Duodēcim

​"I passed."

​He said to himself. A part of him knew he was lying. He wasn't sure whether or not he had spoken up. Like everyone had had what he did say.

What everyone? He wasn't sure whether or not the Nymph heard what he said. Even if she heard, of course that was the deal.

Wasn't she testing him? Wasn't she tempting him? Wasn't it obvious? He could rip off the stance and make meaning of its stance.

And hell sure he was about quite the sways of emotions reaching for the cleavages of her heart. He didn't even know whether or not he was thinking straightly.

Looking into the eyes of the lady was something. He couldn't call it a spell. He had lost focus quite the numbers of times he had looked into the eyes of the lady.

He couldn't be sure why but of course he knew that twas no good sign. She was beginning to sweat over him and they were yet to feel each other within.

A drip of her sweat traced a dark dribble across the suburb of his lips as the trained tongue caught hold it. Oh! It tasted like honey.

He didn't even know whether or not he was sane. Another dropped again and he tasted. Twas even tastier and sapid than the first.

His motive was thereby fleshened and he was bent of making meaning of her.

But the Nymph seemed to have no answer to the question he had asked as she resumed her nozzling.

Then he needed no soothsayer to walk him through some spiritual subway of what was happening.

He knew exactly what was happening and he could play things out. He could make the scenes out. His rage was merged with passion.

He then knew that the lady was not in some test for him. She was burnished in desires.

He had no idea why she had stopped, halted or paused in the first place, but that simply wasn't the best thought.

He hadn't known what had kept her back in thoughts some whiles back before she had disrobed herself and gotten on him.

A figment of his consciousness whispered that she was delayed while walking towards him because she was caught in the claws of thoughts she was perpetrating at that moment.

Twasnt much or hell of a business. His rage kept feigning as his instinct warned him of the implication which was looming.

He would fight the feeling as long as possible. But was it worth it. He didn't know. He couldn't be sure. Was fighting for it really worth it.

How about if he didn't return to earth, what would he be doing? What was there to think? Wasn't it better for him to keep abreast every new discovery he made in the felon fantasy.

When he would return to earth, his wife of course must have gotten to another man and probably would understand his plight if he could play the right words around taunted time at the right time.

But the Nymph was even indifferent. She was hungry as she worked. He was familiar with such task. Of course he was.

She caught hold of his lips again with hers and taunted them mercilessly. She sucked the sanity of his tongue.

He could feel his erection struggling blindly for the wet well. She wasn't ready to have him in her. She yet wanted to taunt him.

She wanted to make pain ooze and puke its fluid on his consciousness. Enough of being rigid and indifferent. He should give in.

He had knuckled under the appropriate thing to do and he was already on it. He had dilly-dallied on getting on it, but he was finally on it.

He allowed the blows of her lips locked into his to have the best part of his sanity. He allowed her saliva which were like hoisted honey of bounty bees to make delicate feast on his mental Ken.

He responded her calls and sucked her harder than she had him. He needed to show her that he was quite the master of such arts.

He was the giver of the arts. Her responses were suicidal as she moved her body rhythmically over him. A part of him thought his erection would cut outta excitement.

Twas simply being taunted,it wasn't having the best part of the deal. That was quite suicidal for it. But of course he would handle that.

He allowed the nimble of his tongue in her mouth to hum some hymns in her, but she seemed quite the obstinate.

Then it seemed he heard her say something. He wasn't sure of what he did hear.

But of course, his oblongata could yet snap at information and make meaning of them, even if his instinct had been smothered by pleasure.

What he had heard seemed to be:

​ "There you go."

​But he really wasn't sure. Then he halted the ploughing of her lips with his ruthless mouth.

Twas hard in the first place, but he had no choice but to. He didn't look at her face. He didn't want to look into them.

They seemed suicidal and obviously, he wasn't ready for any death sentence. He wasn't ready for anything close to such.

Then he pushed her away from him as she fall on her back on what look like an advanced berth. He didn't care what the thing was made of.

All he cared about was how to soothe his erection. That was all that actually mattered to him, all that had ever mattered to him since he had gotten on her. Her tits were comely. He knew that.

No man would see them and ignore. Not when their graces and glories were made known to the eerie earth. He sorted his thoughts.

He needed to be sure which to start with. Was he to start with the bounty boobs or resuming plying her mouth or run his erection through her well.

He didn't know of which he should and he wasn't in a haste.

But the Nymph was and pulled his face closer as she gave her best in sucking indecision outta his mouth. Ah! He was more than wet!