I couldn't get her voice out of my mind. I couldn't get her face out of my mind either. I couldn't stop thinking about how good she felt. I can't stop thinking about how quickly she had brought me to climax. I can't stop thinking about my feelings for her…
And yet, with all this thinking, Alma not once came to my mind. She had come into my mind every day since I've been here and I soon realized today was the first she hadn't. I wasn't sure if it was a good thing that the pain was eased by Grace, or if I felt unfaithful. We were still married, after all.
But of course in a moment like that, you can't think. Can't think at all, not when a woman is kissing you as passionately as that. Not when you want and need and crave nothing more than to melt into one. I lie down in my bed in this prison cell, this insane asylum cell, and think about the one good thing that's come to me…the best thing that's come to me…my manhood pulsating with arousal as my mind recalls the events of just a few hours ago…
"What am I, crazy or sane?" I grab her neck with my hand uncontrollably, in an attempt to frighten her, but she doesn't budge. "Am I a killer?" I question, not really expecting an answer but still seeking some assurance. If was going crazy then I must have been crazy already; I wouldn't murder my wife. If I had done something as hellacious and macabre as that…I would've remembered it. But how am I supposed to explain the creatures I saw…and the light…? Maybe I was a murderer, though; my fingers were wrapped around Grace's neck. The one good person in this shit hole, and I had her neck in my hands. What if I was evil…?
"I don't care what you are," she says calmly, eyes not averting from mine, innocent, beautiful eyes, "I'll be with you," she swears, sincerity and not an ounce of hesitancy in her statement. I knew it must be true. I can't help but drown in her eyes, in the sudden strikes of lighting that zapped the core of my body, shifting my entire existence. I leaned in to kiss her.
It was as if I had been shaken. It was like when the creatures took me, a feeling of fear overwhelmed me and yet I had been calm in some small part of my brain. Some part of me was telling me that it was going to be okay, because there was a plan. Now, this woman in my arms was that new plan. I had to protect her, keep her safe from harm.
Our lips moved together perfectly, she was so warm and so beautiful, and the passion only built up growing need to pull one another closer. She was suddenly on the table, and we were moving so fast, the need suddenly clear and situation presenting itself. We were moving fast to remove our clothing, but I needed her now, and she needed this as well, so it was only the clothing in the way. It was evident now; we were to join.
It has been so long since I'd felt pleasure. I couldn't think thoughts like that while being accused of killing my wife, while thinking she was dead. Just before everything had happened we'd made love, and since then nothing of that nature ever came into my mind.
So as I pulled out my manhood to guide to her in a rushed state I couldn't help but gasp slightly, surprised. I put myself at her entrance and slid into the wetness, feeling her warmth. It felt like heaven, but we needed more, so we repositioned ourselves and I wrapped my arms around her, and god she felt incredible. It must have been a while for her too, but it still caused no restraint when it came to this feeling. We were too engulfed in the heat of the moment.
I started pushing further into her, moaning in response to her whimpers, her beautiful sounds… It was those damn sounds and the way she felt pressed against me that pushed me so close so fast. I hadn't had an orgasm in months, getting off wouldn't be hard.
She fell back against the table and cried out with the immense pleasure, me gripping her hips and thrusting as hard as I could. I was moving so fast, it was like my body was doing all the work and we were both just enjoying the ride. There was so much pleasure, she felt so damn good! I was going too fast, and with no warning I released it all and spilled into her. I fell against her shoulder, groaning a low guttural sound with the sudden spasms of muscle causing me to shudder in ecstasy.
We only had a few moments to even our breathing and process what had just happened when we heard the click of a door opening behind us, snapping us out of our post-intercourse haze and bringing us violently back to the real world, still intertwined with each other.
Now I felt like that man who I'd seen in the common room, the one they called a chronic masturbator. Of course I knew I wasn't the first person aside from him to masturbate here, but I may be the first to scream. The thoughts in my mind were too vivid and just like that memory I kept my clothes on. It was just my hand inside my pants moving along my length, imagining Grace's heat pushing me closer to the edge. I didn't want anyone to see me, so I'd moved and sit by the wall so that no one could see if they'd looked in the window through the door.
I moved faster, desperately craving this release. I couldn't moan, just breathe fast, trembling in my clothes. I didn't expect it to take this long, but I soon got wrapped up in the pleasure and it became something more. My mind raced and I missed doing this, I missed being a normal man. The sweat poured down my neck and chest, making things so much harder for me. I couldn't make sound, and that was something I've always struggled with.
Finally my body became merciful, and the pleasure reached that unmistakable point of no return; I was about to climax. Since no one was around my door or in the cells next to me currently, I let myself cry out with orgasm, squeezing my eyes shut and slamming my shoulders back against the wall, jaw clenched and groaning between my teeth when I'd realized I'd been a little too loud. It hit hard, like going eighty miles an hour on a motorcycle towards an electronic billboard. God damn it Grace, what are you doing to me…?