Spring 1886
Being in the same place with her floods me with memories. I return to the pew, waiting for the service to end so she and I can start anew. As I wait, my mind drifts back to our first meeting in 1886 when I was a local physician in Greensboro, North Carolina—a city bustling with a large population. Despite always going by Gabriel, I've had to change my last name multiple times due to bigotry and racism. Even now, with the last name White, an obvious choice, I find it amusing.
Greensboro, flourishing with over 20 stores, five saloons, and a boarding house, provided me a steady practice. My office in town for about four years earned me the people's trust and some friends. My position granted me knowledge of everyone's personal lives, willingly or not. Rumors circulated about a famous author, Mr. Bauchman, who bought a horse ranch outside town. It was said he was a widower from a wealthy English family.
June days were scorching, and this morning was no exception. Opening my office door around nine am, I allowed the breeze into the reception area. The downtown area buzzed with activity. My typical days involved tending to wounds and stitching cuts, armed with a selection of medicines and herbal remedies, including treatments from Romania that my mother used.
I heard the horses and carriage about two miles before they made it to town. It wasn't until the carriage turned down Main Street that I listened to any conversation. There are men inside the carriage with a young lady and one or two men driving the horses.
"Oh, Daddy, please tell me Winter will be alright?"
"Hush baby, they are tending to the horse; my only concern is for you."
It was silent until they were at my front door. A sizeable Native American man around 6'4 inches was carrying a petite female in his massive arms, and a redhead squat sort of man trailing behind him.
This man must be the girl's father; they both had the same bright red hair. He appeared to be around his late 30s with glasses and flushed cheeks.
"You, Sir, are you the town physician?"!
I nod at him and make my way toward the back of my office, where my exam room is located, ushering the group with me.
"My daughter Anastasia was thrown off her horse after a snake bitted it.
"Was she bit? "
No, just the horse."
He removes a heavy woven cloth from the girl as the tall man lays her on the exam table.
It's then I see the girl's swollen and slightly twisted leg. I cut her pants leg off what I'm sure are expensive handmade leather riding pants. Her boots were off, but she still had socks on. As I unveil her leg, I can see the purple and blue discoloration already starting, and her entire calf was swelling.
"I'm very sorry, Miss, this will hurt a bit."
This is when I first see her eyes; they are mesmerizing. I try and focus; she's looking at me clearly in pain, and tears are already staining her cheeks.
I head to my cabinets, retrieving morphine tablets.
"Put one of these under your tongue; it will help with the pain."
As I carefully examine her leg, starting from her foot and working my way up to her calf, she winces in pain. Noticing a slight protrusion of her tibia at an angle, I continue the assessment, checking her knee and thigh. Apologizing, I place my hands on her hips to ensure stability.
"It appears she's broken her tibia bone, a rather nasty break. I should be able to set it and prevent permanent damage, but I'll have to wait for the tablet to take effect."
I directed the father to the waiting area and asked the Native man, Mr. TallTree, to assist by holding her upper leg still when I set it. He nods and moves to her side.
"Mister TallTree, do you think Winter is okay?"
The massive man reassures,
"She should be okay. John and Alma are caring for her, and they know how to heal snakebites. Miss Anastasia, you worry about your healing now. Winter will be okay."
She seems to relax, finally succumbing to the effects of the morphine after his comforting words.
"The girl seems very fond of you, Mr. TallTree. How long have you worked for them, if you don't mind my asking?"
I motion for him to place one hand on her thigh and one on her knee. Completing the set, I align her foot and ankle, preparing for the risky procedure.
As I pull her leg back into alignment, a small portion of her bone cuts her skin, causing her to scream in pain before falling unconscious. In an unexpected realization, her blood's scent captivates me, and I struggle to focus. Regardless, I finish setting her leg, aligning it well, and bracing it with wooden planks.
Trying to distract myself from the intoxicating scent, I turn to Mr. TallTree.
"So, I've been here several years, and I don't think I've ever seen you before; are you from this area?" The giant man brushes the girl's hair from her face, explaining his longstanding connection to the Bauchman family.
"No, my mother, sister and I have always been with the Bauchman family. We're treated like family. We all do something around the ranch: cooking, sewing, cleaning, and tending to daily tasks. My sister Dove is just a few years older than Anastasia, and we've watched them grow up like sisters. My mother says Dove has more white blood in here than Navajo.
"I chuckle at his statement, and he continues to distract me, and I care for the girl's leg. He expresses fondness and a very positive view of Mr. Bauchman.
As I clean up, burning the rag with her blood, I walk toward her father.
"Miss Anastasia won't be waking up for four to six hours, and she'll need more medicine. I advise that you head home; I'll watch over her tonight and return tomorrow morning to check on her."
Mr. Bauchman sticks his hand out and takes mine in a firm handshake.
"I don't know what we'd do without you. My baby might have never walked right again or worse; I will bring my payment tomorrow morning first thing."
I smile at him as I shake his hand and pat him on his shoulder.
"Why don't you see her before you leave? payment isn't my concern right now, Sir."
They return to the room with Anastasia, and her father whispers to his daughter.
"Ana, my baby, it's Daddy, and I'm going to head home, but I'll be here first thing tomorrow morning, my angel."
He kisses her cheek, and she stirs just a bit and falls asleep again. I notice Mr. TallTree touches her hand and says a Navajo prayer as he walks out of the room cautiously as if not to wake her but to have left her comfort. I reassured them not to worry and to get rest.
After they leave, I return to Anastasia and check that she is sound asleep, and once I'm confident she is, I unwrap her wound and cut my finger, allowing three small drops of blood in her injury. I'm cautious, only to give a small enough amount to heal her bones entirely, and possibly it'll heal sooner than a usual break. Her break was not straightforward, and I could sense she would eventually lose feeling and blood to her lower leg and foot because of damaged nerves and blood vessels. I just couldn't let this happen to her, not after the gaze into her eyes, even if it put me in danger.
A few hours after her father and Mr. TallTree leave, she wakes up groggy and tries to move. I'm at her side in seconds.
"Miss Anastasia, please don't try to get up. I've set your broken leg bone, and it's going to take time before you can put weight on it, ma'am." She looks up at me with those mesmerizing, most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen and smiles at me, and my heart explodes.
In a soft, weak voice, she says,
"I'm thirsty, please, doctor."
I fetch her a cup of water and hold her head so she can drink. Her hair is like the red of a sunset before a snow, and it's soft as silk. She smiles at me and whispers thank you.
"Are you in much pain, Anastasia?"
she nods yes, and I let her know I will give her more medicine and that I will be taking care of her personally all night and not to worry, rest.
"My father, Mr. TallTree?"
"I sent them home to rest and return in the morning."
She nods and closes her eyes, and soon is fast asleep. I administer more medication to help keep her pain at bay. She sleeps very well, considering everything she has been through, and I sit and watch over her all night. I do not need sleep, but I sometimes sleep to keep up my human façade and sometimes to pass the time.
Anastasia woke up around four in the morning. She was stammering, and I was worried for just a bit until she finally whispered,
"I have to make water."
I'm glad her stammering wasn't from a head injury and only from embarrassment. I moved to her side with a bedpan, and I was very thankful we'd removed her pants earlier.
"Miss, I'm going to lift you, and once I do, place this pan on your bottom side, and it'll collect everything. Once you finish, call for me."
That went surprisingly well and with as little embarrassment for her as possible. Afterward, I asked her if she was thirsty or hungry, and she nodded politely. I brought food the day before she came because humans expect to see me buying food. As she ate some cheese and apple propped up on the exam table, we chatted again.
"What is your name so I don't have to call you doctor all day?"
"I'm Gabriel Smith."
I was about to slip and tell her my actual sir-name, Dăscalu, and I'm not sure how I explain that one.
"It's very nice to meet you, Gabriel Smith. I'm Anastasia Ruby May Grace Bauchman, and because you saved my life, you can call me Ana."
I like the southern accent she says her name with—a true Southern Bell.
"Now that's a long but lovely name, Ana. Do you know the history behind such a name? Something so special has to have a good history."
Her laugh sounded like tinkling bells as she said,
"Well, indeed it does! My mother loved the name Anastasia ever since she'd befriended a girl with the same name as a child. Ruby is my grandmother's name on my father's side, May is Mr. TallTree's mother's name, she is who delivered me, and my mother loved her dearly, and Grace was my grandmother's name on my mother's side."
I'm already so drawn to her, and every word she says only draws me in more.
"Well, I think it's a beautiful name with an exceptional meaning. Your ancestors are proud to have such a lovely lady carrying on their names."
She blushed, and as I cleaned up her dishes, she asked me questions about myself and where I'd come from, and I hated lying to her. I pulled my chair next to her bed and asked if she was comfortable or in much pain.
"I'm in a bit of comfort and a whole lot of pain,"
and then giggled.
Laughing, I replied,
"I don't think I've heard such an honest answer before."
She told me how they had moved from North Texas. She told me about how her momma had passed away, she talked in detail about the TallTree family, and then it was nonstop horse talk, and it's a good thing I've had several hundred years to know just about everything pretending to horses. We were talking when her father knocked on my office door. I'd completely lost track of time.
It was close to nine in the morning, and once we stopped talking, her pain hit her pretty hard. One of the benefits of my abilities is a rise in dopamine. I should have thought about that and medicated her to prevent her pain.
Her father came in with a hearty greeting, filling behind his a small Native woman I could only assume was May TallTree; both were so happy to see her awake. Her father flooded her with questions. I prepared medication for her, and after she was treated, I moved to my waiting room to give them time together. After ten minutes, May came out of the room; she wore a hand-woven tribal match coat. Her skin was light brown, her black and silver hair in a series of braids and pinned up. I guessed her around the sixties, and as I was thinking this, she sat down next to me.
"It's not nice to guess a woman's age, but since you took a few years off, I won't be too angry."
I was stunned, and I guess it showed on my face, and she smiled and tapped her finger to her forehead.
"We have seen your kind before: the ageless, the drinkers of blood."
It was then I realized she was saying this inside my head. I was fascinated and worried all at the same time.
"Hush, child, do I look like a threat to you, the predator? Now, let me talk before Charles comes out. I see much in you, but I do not see a ruthless killer. I see a very young but very old man who respects humans and has never killed someone he believes doesn't deserve to die. My Ana is special to you; already ach'ooni. I see you know my language and many, many more. What are your plans for my Ana? I will not see her lose her níłchʼi."
She thinks I'm going to turn her.
"I would never turn her; her soul sings to me. It sings to the place where my soul once lived. She nods at me, and for some time, she looks at me.
"So...you see the two of you together; her old like me, and you still young and ageless."
I'm confident she can read my mind, which fascinates me.
"Boy! Pay attention; I need an answer now! And yes, I can read your mind; I can read your emotions and emotional memories, too, a lot stronger than humans. "
I don't know what this attraction to her is. Never have I had anything that feels like this, not in my hundreds of years.
"I am certain I will allow nothing to hurt her in any way for the rest of my life."
May stands up and smiles at me. She puts her hand on my forearm and motions me to bend down. When I do, she takes the back of my head in one hand, places her other palm against my forehead, and speaks several words in Navajo very quickly; the only words I made out were love, eternal, and either path or trail.
Ana slept off and on all day, and I stayed at her side, giving her medicine, food, and water as she needed it, and she gave me the gift of her conversation. We repeated this routine for another day, and she was requiring less and less pain medication. I informed her father that I believed Ana could be taken home the day after tomorrow if all went well today. On the third day, I was confident she would be able to go home the next day, and her father was thrilled and said he would have everything ready for her arrival.
Later that afternoon, Ana was sitting up smiling, eating a fried eggs and bacon sandwich, which she said she'd been craving, and of course, I had to make it for her. I also made her tea, which she was so excited it wasn't just water. Yesterday, May had come and washed her beautiful flame-kissed hair and body. She dressed her in a white cotton dressing gown and a light blue robe. Our conversation continued to flow effortlessly, with both of us talking about various topics. Then I saw the passion ignite in her; she began to talk about her love of horses and told me how Winter was recovering.
Engaged in conversation about horses, I found myself captivated by her, utterly struck by her stunning presence. It dawned on me that she noticed my lingering gaze.
"Gabriel, didn't your mother teach you it's not polite to stare?"
She is smiling at me, and without thinking, I say,
"Yes, ma'am, she did, but you are so magnificently beautiful it's hard for me to take my eyes off you."
I didn't even realize what I'd said until I noticed her face turning bright red.
"Ana, I am so very sorry that was so unprofessional and inappropriate for me to have said to a proper lady like yourself."
She begins to return to her normal color and takes my hand, and I jump, a bit surprised at her touch. In a soft voice with those intense eyes, she says,
"Well, Sir, I am not a proper lady, and your words were so innocent because you had no intention of speaking them; they just fell out. Besides, you're not hard on the eyes."
I don't think she intended to tell me that. The silence between us lasts several minutes, but she doesn't look away, and I run my thumb over her hand softly. As the silence thickened, it carried with it an unmistakable tension, a brewing exchange of both serious and inappropriate feelings that lingered between us, adding an unspoken layer to the atmosphere.
I squeezed her hand softly, brought it to my lips, and kissed it gently.
"Well, I believe I promised you I would teach you to play a few card games."
I stand as I say this, trying to keep my composure. I walk out of the room, yelling back at her that I'd return in just a moment with cards and drinks.
Upon reaching my upstairs apartment, I inhale deeply, adopting the breath vampires take, although it's not necessary for us. It seems to be a natural, ingrained action that lingers with us. I am hoping she didn't notice the massive bulge in my pants as I stood up.
I find myself sitting on the examination table, my broken leg feeling as fragile as fine china, while my entire world has been set ablaze like a tree struck by lightning. The fact that Gabriel is attracted to me, of all people, leaves me in disbelief. I'm just a scrawny redhead with freckles on my face. What could someone as flawless and beautiful as Gabriel see in me? His words and the touch of his lips on my hand leave me breathless, wishing they were on my lips instead.
The thought crosses my mind that he could kiss me. At that moment, I realize I don't care about anyone's opinions or judgments. If he were to walk back into the room and try to kiss me or even ask for permission, knowing him to be a gentleman, I would eagerly respond, "By all means, Sir. I have saved these lips just for you. They have never been touched by any other. I want yours to be the first, the only, and the last ever to kiss me."
These thoughts and feelings swirling in my mind shock me, causing my face to turn beet red. I don't know much about sex, and to be honest, I've never really felt the need to explore it. But since meeting Gabriel, I've had these feelings that make me curious. I remember bits and pieces about how men and women come together to have a baby. One of the rancher's wives was pregnant, and May explained it to me, comparing it to what horses do but in a different and special way.
That was the last time I thought about it until now, and suddenly, my whole body tingles, my heart races, and I feel a wetness between my legs. It's too early for my period, so what could this be?
Curiosity consumes me, and I lift the blanket slightly to check for blood, but it's not there. Cautiously, I run my finger down and notice a slightly opaque substance. As I bring my finger back up to inspect it, I feel a pulsing sensation, like touching a sore thumb after slamming it into a door. But instead of pain, it's a rush of electrifying energy coursing through my body in a strangely captivating way. These unfamiliar sensations confuse and overwhelm me. I also notice that my nipples are hard, even though it's not cold.
I can hear Gabriel moving around upstairs. I run my hand over my breasts and touch myself again, discovering that I'm incredibly wet. There's a throbbing bump between my legs, and each touch sends electrifying waves throughout my body.
While I am upstairs, I take a moment to collect myself. I practice a quick meditation and gather my cards before heading downstairs. Just as I'm about to enter, a scent fills the air, unmistakable and filled with desire. Cautiously, I peek around the corner and catch a glimpse of her pleasuring herself. I can see it's her first time by the expression on her face. My arousal intensifies, pressing against my pants so intensely it feels like they might burst open. I can't tear my eyes away from her. I can't see what she's doing beneath her blanket, but I can sense it, and I know my office is locked, ensuring all privacy.
Unable to resist, I free my cock and begin to stroke it fervently, watching as she bites her lip and moves her fingers over her clit.
I can hear the blood rushing to her clitoris, and a primal urge builds within me. I have to control myself from entering the room, pulling off her blanket, lifting her gown, and burying my face in her. I know she must taste like honey. I try to focus on stroking my cock, but I can't help but imagine licking her over and over until she orgasms all over my face.
Then, unexpectedly, rather quickly climax; it usually takes longer, but my mind is consumed with the thoughts of licking her clean during her cycle, savoring her blood in my mouth. And with that, I orgasm, releasing a massive amount of cum all over my hand and the wall. It's been a long time since I've cum that hard. I head back up the stairs to clean myself up and grab something to clean the wall from my mess.
As I return downstairs and start cleaning the wall, I glimpse her visibly frustrated and almost miserable expression. I assume she's still worked up, but without practice, she's not skilled enough to bring herself to orgasm. And damn, if I'm not hard again thinking about going in there and teaching her. Damn it! I need to regain control of myself!
To not embarrass her, I call out from the stairs, letting her know I'll be right down so she can compose herself. "I have to water my plant." As I walk back into the exam room, I can't help but think? "Water my plant?" She smiles at me, and the look in her eyes mirrors my feelings. We play cards, talk, and laugh until we hear her stomach growl. We look at each other and burst into laughter. Most girls would be embarrassed, but not my Ana.
"How about I get us some dinner from the boarding house?"
I suggest I get food from Mrs. Thomas, who runs the boarding house. She is a fantastic cook; she feeds her residents nightly and often tells me to join them. She's a sweet older woman. I always try to pay her, but she refuses, and each time, I leave money on her counter by the backdoor and tell her that pork chops don't grow on trees. Ana laughs at this and agrees that it would be amazing. As I make my way to the boarding house, it hits me. I referred to her as my Ana. I know it may sound unbelievable, but in all the years I've lived, I've had many partners, both men and women and while some stuck around for a while, I've never loved anyone. But this feeling, it feels like love.
Ana and I indulge in a delicious meal of fried okra, greens, and fried chicken. I'm amazed at how such a petite person can eat so much. We engage in deep conversation, talking until the late hours of the night. Surprisingly, she wins a few games of Spades effortlessly. We laugh so hard that I fear she'll tumble off the bed while I share stories about my patients. I conveniently leave out the fact that some of these stories date back several hundred years. In return, she regales me with hilarious tales of the adventures she and her father have experienced over the years.
It appears that Mr. Bauchman is quite the adventurer, while my Ana has a knack for accidents. I promise to work with her and improve her coordination, ensuring she won't trip over her own feet as she recounts the story of how she bruised her forehead three months ago. I assist her with her nightly routine, helping her use the bathroom and making her as comfortable as possible before tucking her in. I pull up her blanket and secure the makeshift rail, relieved that I took precautions considering her predisposition to accidents.
I can't bear the thought of her falling off the bed, well, unless it's into my arms. I gaze at her angelic face, bringing her hand to my lips, and whisper a tender goodnight to my sweet Ana.
Once Gabriel leaves, I give in to the overwhelming surge of joy and suppress a squeal. He called me his Ana! I'm ecstatic and can't wait to share this news with Dove. She won't believe it, and I can't blame her. Gabriel feels like a dream, and sometimes I wonder if all of this is just a fever-induced hallucination as I slowly succumb to the infection in my broken leg.
Since we moved here, Dove has met a local man who serves as a deputy in the town. He's only twenty-four and has a stable job and a home. I suspect the deputy wants to marry Dove, as he mustered the courage to ask John TallTree for permission to court her. It takes bravery, even with a gun, to approach someone like John.
I struggle to fall asleep. Thoughts of Gabriel and his lips consume my mind, and I can't help but feel sinful for wondering what he looks like without clothes. I fantasize about his touch against my naked body. I bring my finger back to the sensitive bump between my legs, and everything feels wet. I assume it's normal, but I'm uncertain. The tingling sensation returns, and I focus on that spot, imagining Gabriel kissing me. My heart races, my breath quickens, and I begin to feel something, but as soon as I adjust my finger, it's gone. I've tried this a few times without any success. He's here, asking.
"Ana, are you in pain?"
Then, an indescribable expression crosses his face in the candlelight. He gently moves my hair aside, wipes away my tears, and softly asks,
"Ana, may I kiss you?"
He's here standing shirtless, his chest is muscular, and he's so well defined; he resembles an angel who fell from heaven and casually placed before me. I affirm with a nod; he leans down, and as his lips meet mine, it's as if my body ignites. I gasp, and he delicately guides me through the art of kissing, a lesson I quickly grasp. Our kiss seems to stretch into an endless moment.
I can feel my gown get wetter in between my legs. He begins to kiss my face and then says,
"Ana, is this acceptable? Can I continue kissing you?"
I vigorously shake my head, prompting a smile from him. He proceeds to kiss my lips, then my neck; I moan as his hand traverses my side and ascends my waist. Breathless, he reaches my breast, seeking my consent with a glance before whispering affirmation. As he kisses my neck, unties my gown, and moves the rail, I glimpse a sizable bulge in his pants. Panicking, I avert my eyes, feeling my pulse surge.
"Ana, how much do you know about anatomy?"
I stammer, admitting my limited knowledge. He suggests,
"Would you be open to me providing a lesson?"
He grins at me with a smile I learn later is called a devilish smirk. I nod yes.
"Well, Ana, I'm a firm believer in hands-on learning."
He leans in, kisses me passionately, and says,
"Those beautiful lips lead to your mouth, which is called an orifice, and this here is your carotid artery."
He's licking and kissing my neck and then my collarbone.
"This bone is your clavicle, and you have two; see, this is the other one I'm kissing; now we call that term bilateral."
I can barely believe this is happening, and I think... I know I would die if he stopped now.
Kissing her is pure madness because I know I have to be careful and respectful and not frighten her, but I want to ravage her. I want to drink from her; I want to give her my blood so that I can feed off her more. She is now moaning, and the devil inside me is enjoying making her so wanting. I can hear the blood rushing to her clit and smell the wetness between her legs.
I am teaching her anatomy, and she is a very attentive student. I run my tongue over her sternum, and I pull her gown down as I peek up to make sure she's still wanting my attention.
"Should I continue?"
Her attentive gaze shadows my every motion and a soft...
"Yes, please."
Slips from her lips. With care, I lower her gown, exposing her breasts. I half anticipate a blush, considering her innocence, yet to my surprise, there's no hint of embarrassment—she faces the situation calmly.
I run my hands over her bare breasts and softly teach her the parts of her breast, first with my fingers, then with my tongue and mouth. When my tongue touches her nipple, she gasps and arches her back. I begin to suck on her breast, suckling it and cupping the other breast, and I softly pinch her other nipple as I move down her stomach, and then I'm back to her lips again, kissing her as the world will end moments from now.
"Oh my sweet, beautiful Ana, Is this too much? Should we keep going?"
She nods and whimpers oh yes, Gabriel, yes, and hearing her say my name like this is more than I can handle. I adjust myself, feeling the undeniable arousal, and her gaze follows downwards. Taking her hand, I guide it toward the bulge in my pants, causing her to appear somewhat apprehensive. She's touching it softly.
"Doesn't that hurt?" she asks, concerned.
I meet her eyes and respond,
"Only if you stop," eliciting a smile from her. Slowly, I begin to reveal my erection, keeping a watchful eye on her. Her expression widens in surprise as she takes in its size.
Taking her hand once more, I proceed to educate her about my anatomy, this time focusing on my cock.
Demonstrating with my hand over hers, I show her how to stroke it, and she cautiously follows suit. Her touch is gentle and careful as she works her hand up and down my shaft. Once again, I guide her hand with mine, illustrating the way I pleasure myself, surprising her with the intensity and speed. I release my grip, and she becomes more confident, her actions becoming more assertive.
My pleasure becomes evident through moans, and she remains fixated on my cock, never taking her eyes off it. Ana continues to stroke, doing her best to encompass its girth with her tiny hand. Finding a good rhythm and grip, my breathing quickens, and I moan once more. Now, she looks deeply into my eyes, and in that moment, I am overwhelmed with love for her. Again, it is a feeling I've never had, but I'm confident it's what I feel. Unable to contain my emotions, I cup her face and kiss her passionately, leaving us both breathless.
"Ana, may I do something that might seem unusual and inappropriate? I promise it won't hurt, and I desire to do it so desperately."
She gives a nod of approval, and in an instant, I guide her to the edge of the bed, carefully keeping her injured leg elevated. Raising her gown, I act swiftly, not giving her a chance to feel self-conscious. My tongue finds its way to her wetness, and she gasps,
"Oh my...oh GOD, Gabriel!"
Her hands grip my hair, and her moans fill the air. I focus on stimulating her pulsating clit, refraining from any penetration. Her breathing becomes erratic, and her body tenses as she cries out,
"Don't stop, please, Gabriel, please."
There is a hint of panic in her voice, fearing the fleeting nature of this pleasure. Determined, I increase my pace, feeling her back arch off the bed. Her moans grow louder, and I worry about the possibility of someone overhearing. With relentless intensity, I continue to pleasure her throbbing clit, and as she reaches climax, she pulls my hair and joyously screams, releasing herself onto my face and into my mouth. I moan in response, savoring her sweet essence. She pants, uttering,
"Gabriel, oh God, Gabriel, it's incredible."
Tiny movements begin in her hips. I can tell she is at that too-sensitive point, but with one hand firmly gripping and stroking my cock, I persist, aware that she is trying to maneuver her overstimulated clit out of my reach. In response, I use my free hand to hold her hip, and I ravish her once again. And soon enough, she moans with delight, pressing against my face and moving her hips as if she's riding one of her beloved horses.
The thought of her dominating my face one day is an exhilarating vision, almost pushing me to the brink. I sense her thighs locking around my head, and she repeats my name, pleading for me not to stop. I respond by licking her with increased speed, feeling her entire body tensing up in response. Finally, she reaches her peak, surrendering to an orgasm that leaves her petite body trembling and moaning deep primal moans.
As I gaze up at her, she watches me intently. Standing up, I make sure she can see my actions as I grasp my hard cock in my hand. I've been working on it for some time now, and I can feel it building inside me. Moving closer to her, I stroke it forcefully and rapidly. Her eyes widen, and she bites her lip. It is so tempting to cover her beautiful face with my cum, but instead, I aim away from her. With a deep, animalistic moan, I come forcibly. She is stunned but sees the pleasure on my face, responding with a mischievous smile.
This look will become familiar throughout our lives, signifying something wickedly wild. I then join Ana's side, grabbing a towel to clean myself up. She looks up at me, her face filled with countless questions. I ask for a moment to tidy up since she's caused quite a mess. She giggles as I leave the room, my pants halfway down.
As Gabriel tends to his monstrous member, I try to recall what he called it - a penis. I've seen those before, in dogs and horses in heat on the ranch. I've witnessed them on baby boys during nappie changes, but I never knew that their small little "dinglies," as I used to call them, could grow to such a size! I'm quite skilled in mathematics, and if I were to estimate, it must have been around ten inches in length. Then, a thorough runs through my mind. If stallions insert themselves into mares, does that mean Gabriel's penis will find its way into my vagina?
Gabriel returns to me, smiling, and asks,
"Ana, what's on your mind, my love?"
My face must turn crimson because he chuckles and whispers,
"Ah, now you're blushing! Please don't be shy; tell me what's on your mind, my love?"
It's difficult to ask this bold of a question. I don't want him to think I'm a child. In an unintelligible string of words, I ask.
"Does your penis go inside my vagina?"
He takes a moment to process my unexpected question, bursts into laughter, and gently touches my face. With a serious tone, he replies,
"If I'm fortunate enough, one day, I hope it does find its way inside your vagina."
I'm stunned for a moment, and then we both burst into uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down my face.
"Gabriel, you're so naughty, and I love it! But I do wonder if you'll fit inside me. We have smaller mares who can't mate with larger stallions. I'm a small mare, Gabriel, and well, you're a massive stallion compared to me."
He's leaning over me again and kissing me softly all over my face. He moves to my ear and says,
"When you are ready, my love, I will take you so softly and so gently, taking all the time in the world; humans' anatomies aren't too different than horses, but the small mare is not bred with the big stallion because the horse does not wait and do not take care they force themselves into the mare ripping her, but you my love have absolutely nothing to fear I will take as long as you need and only do what you allow me to do. I will only ever bring you pleasure. I promise my life I will never hurt you."
The warmth of his breath on my ear and his sweet reassurance have me wet again. I blush; he moves his hand between my legs. "I would like to continue our anatomy lesson if you would like to?" I nod, and he lifts my gown. His finger finds my bump. "Do you remember what I called this?" I shake my head no. "Well, I would have been surprised if you had because I had you a bit distracted." He runs his finger over the outer part of my vagina, bringing up my wetness. He puts his finger on me again and says,
"This is your clitoris or, in slang, commonly called a clit, and when you rub it like this in a way that feels good to you, it will make you cum, and this is what I did with my tongue. I licked your clit over and over until you reached your peak, and then you jumped off the edge and landed in several big orgasms, or you can use the other term for it and say you came." By the way, I loved the taste of your cum, and I want to tease you again and again."
He's taken my hand during all this and put my two middle fingers on my clit and moved my hand around until I got the motion. I am working on myself as he continues to talk to me.
"Yes, my love, that's good; rub your clit for me, show me what you are feeling down there. Do I make you wet, Ana?"
I moaned and whispered,
"Oh God, yes!"
He smiles that devilish smile, and in a silky smooth voice, he says,
"That's so good, love,"
His voice becomes firmer, and says,
"Then cum for me! Show me how much I make you wet. You saw how I stroked my cock how hard you had made me, how big you made me, and I came for you. Do you know I wanted to cum all over you?"
I gasp and moan loudly in pleasure at the thought of having his white milky cum all over me.
"Oh, Ana, you like the thought of me cumming on you?"
"Yes, Gabriel, oh yes!"
His smile spreads, and he growls,
"Cum for me!"
He takes to my breast sucking one running his tongue over my hard nipple, and watches me. I am so close I feel it, and now I know what this is, and I know what to do.
"Yes, my Ana, yes, cum."
When his mouth sucks on my nipple again, I moan loudly, my body hitches and spasms, and I cum until my body collapses. I'm breathless; my body is limp. I think I'm dreaming, and then his tongue is in my mouth and kissing me so sweetly, so passionately, all at once.
"I love you, Gabriel."
He plasters my face with kisses, looks into my eyes, and says,
"You...you love me?"
He looks so caught off guard that I wonder if I said that too quickly or if I shouldn't be the one saying it. Is that something a man only says first?
"Oh, my Ana, my perfect sweet angel."
This is love, and she feels it too!
"I love you, Anastasia, and I will love you for Millennia."