The memory of the grass and the copper taste arrived again and he drove it forward into the current moment with the next thrust, and Jennifer received it with her whole body and cried out, and her pussy gushed again, and Gareth slept through it.
He came.
"Haah... Fuck."
The release arrived not as the usual patient, considered wave but as something harder — the specific, sharp intensity of a man discharging not just his body but his 'mood' into the nearest available vessel — and he drove forward one final time and held there, his cock buried at maximum depth, his balls pressed against her soaked cunt.
The warmth flooded her.
Thick. Immediate. The full, substantial load of it filling the passage that had been shaped to receive him and now received him with the trained, devoted clutch of walls that knew this particular shape and had stopped having opinions about being given it.
Jennifer's eyes were wet.
She looked at her son's sleeping face as Raven released inside her.
