Ero-Game: Power and Sword

“What should I tell him?” I wondered aloud on the rickshaw ride to his house.
“What’s that, boss?” The rickshaw puller asked.
“Ah, nothing.” I shook my head and kept my thoughts to myself. There was nothing to tell him. He couldn’t come with me; there were still so many places to go before returning home, and he wasn’t the type of man you could bring along. Especially if he was going to get upset about a missed dinner. So I have to be blunt, I thought, but I wasn’t good at  being blunt. As we got closer to his home, my heart rate rose. I didn’t know what to tell him. With the cold container on my lap, I looked to the passing buildings and the people on the streets for inspiration, but nothing came to mind.

I paid the rickshaw puller and walked up the steps to his front door with a heavy heart. The cold container in my hand an admission of guilt. I took a deep breath and knocked on the wooden door. Exhale. Inhale. My palms felt cold and clammy. I stared at the round coloured glass window, tense about facing him. And I was kind of revealed when his sister opened the  door. “Ah…”
“I’ll go get him.” She nodded and left the door open.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. And while his sister ran up the stairs, I took off my shoes and waited in the vestibule. I froze when he appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked great in short shorts and an off-shoulder t-shirt. His expression was cold. His footsteps sounded like a judge’s gavel. “Hey,” I gulped.
“You haven’t eaten it.” He stated, his gaze lingered on the container in my hands.
“Ah, I just got back.” I smiled. “I didn’t have time to.”
“Hmm…” He was upset. “Then I’ll heat it up.” He yanked it from my hands.
“Oh, no. I’m not really…” He didn’t listen to me but went into the kitchen. I followed behind him and said, “I’m not really hungry.” He refused to listen to me. He took out a pan and turned on the stove. He ignored me. So, with a sigh, I took a seat at the dining table. I rested my chin in my hand and watched him reheat my dinner.

He dropped the plate of reheated chicken and mushrooms in front of me. “Eat,” he commanded.
“I’m going to need a knife and a fork.” I showed him my empty hands. He narrowed his eyes but shuffled to a cupboard and got me the utensils I needed. After handing me the fork and knife, he sat across from me and watched me eat. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I already had breakfast.”
“Me too. I’m not really hungry.” I looked down at the big plate.
He crossed his arms and demanded that I “eat.”
Frowning, I stabbed into the chicken.

***

I felt stuffed, but he made sure I ate all of it.
“How was it?” He asked, taking away the plate.
“Ah, good.” I groaned.
“Good.” He smiled. A wry smile passed through my face.

While he was washing the plate, I crept up from behind and wrapped my arms around him. I kissed the exposed shoulder with nibbles. My hand caressed his abdomen and slowly wandered lower… First, I stroked his thighs, carefully avoiding his privates. I pushed up against his bum and, rising slightly on my toes, nibbled his neck.
“My hands are wet.” He whined.
“Hush.” I moaned.
He struggled against me and managed to dry his hands on the kitchen cloth. He then bent against the counter, his breath broken, face flushed, and flesh straining against the short shorts. He quietly endured my wandering hands. Finally, I grabbed his throbbing sex. He hissed. He was rock-hard under the shorts. I lovingly stroked him from root to tip. A wet spot appeared on his shorts. He was leaking pre-cum.
“You’re messing me up,” he groaned.
I released his warm, swollen flesh and took hold of his arm. “Come on, let’s go to your room.”

“You’re such a stud.” He moaned.
I giggled and pulled him up the stairs.

***

Our clothes fell to the floor as we danced to his bed. We collapsed onto his bed. I climbed on top of him and sealed my mouth over his. His erection was notched between my pussy lips. I rocked against him, creamy and ready for more. I stroked my clit up and down his thick length and masturbated until he begged, “Put it in.”
I obliged. I lifted my hips, grabbed his manhood, and pushed him inside me. He pushed up to meet me. I stared into his eyes and thrust against him. Our harsh and uneven breaths filled the room. My face rested on his while my hips moved restlessly. Keeping a tight hold of my ass, he thrust up in rhythm to meet me. The bed creaked. The orgasm came like a warm bath, spreading from my core and all through me. I moistly moaned into his face. I ground into him, flexing my ass. He had a silent climax, spilling his fluids deep inside me.

***

The sheet covered our lower halves. I laid on my side with his head nestled in my bosom. My fingers were playing with his soft brown hair when he rolled his eyes up at me and asked, “What should I make for dinner today?”
“Ah…” I planned on going to the amusement park later. “I’ll be busy, B. You shouldn’t come over tonight.” He pushed away from me and turned the other way. After casting a sigh, I spooned closer to him. I propped myself up with an elbow, held my temple in my palm, pressed my breasts against his back, and gently ran my fingers along his side. Down his arm to his waist and circling on his hips, I drew my fingers back up… So I gently stroked him, enjoying the feel of his skin. Cautiously I asked,  “What do you want from… us, B?”
“Nothing.” He moaned.
“Really…” I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t know what to say. “I have two boyfriends in Delaron.” I think I had already told him this part before. “But I won’t be going back there for a while. I’m on a… long journey.”
“I’m not leaving Greinne.”
“Hm…”
“I know you’re an adventurer and that you need to travel. A lot. I don’t want that.”
“I see…”
“I don’t want a relationship where I have to worry about what hole my girlfriend might die in. I need someone that’ll stay home with me, Sherrie. Someone who’ll help me take care of the kids.”
“Hm…”
“I know you’re not that.” He sniffled. What was I to say? I couldn’t find the words to say anything. There was nothing to say… “You’re not going to say anything.” I listened to the sound of his little nose… The sound of him holding in his tears. “Leave,” he choked. “Leave.” His tone was biting. He curled up and hogged the sheet in the process.
Without a word, I stepped off the bed and found my clothes. After getting dressed, I stood at the edge of the bed and looked down at him.  He refused to say anything, so I leaned over, kissed his temple, and  whispered, “Goodbye, B.” And walked out of his room, house, and life.