Chapter Two-hundred Twenty-one: The Low Simmer

Chapter 221

The Low Simmer

Jaxon sat at Percy’s bar, having a cigarette. He wore a leopard print button-down shirt, black jeans, and black Chelsea boots. In a cocktail shaker, Percy added 1 ounce each of bourbon, cranberry juice, and sweet vermouth, and 0.25 ounce of orange liqueur. He shook it and poured it through a strainer into an old-fashioned glass garnished with a cherry. Jaxon took a sip and drew a long breath.

Percy: “I dub this ‘The Low Simmer’.”

He smiled. Jaxon raised his glass.

Percy: “Green Queen troubles, my magical friend?”

Jaxon nodded.

Jaxon: “Yup.”

Percy folded his arms and leaned over.

Percy: “Why don’t you throw in the towel, my Pepper Prince? Miss Piggy did to Kermit.”

He smiled.

Jaxon: “I’m not Miss Piggy, and that chick jumps from man-to-man. First, it was Blair, then Lazaros, and now Jordi. Fuck that.”

He huffed and inhaled a drag. Percy raised his eyebrows.

Percy: “You could argue Celeste is not much different than her piggy pal.”

He teased. Jaxon glared at him.

Jaxon: “I am not in the mood for fuckin’ around, Percy.”

He hissed. Percy smiled and threaded his fingers through Jaxon’s hair.

Jaxon: “I want to have someone like Tristan, but Tristan says I am doing this so I won’t deal with my problems. He deserves better than Deimos.”

He took another sip. Percy gaped owlishly at him.

Percy: “You want to shag my Ice Prince?”

Jaxon rolled his eyes. Percy folded his arms over.

Percy: “Well, darling, he’s not wrong. You want to bang him so you don’t have to deal with your problems.”

He said earnestly.

Jaxon: “I didn’t come to be psychoanalyzed.”

He spat.

Percy: “Darling, you always come here to have a shoulder to cry on.”

He spread his arms out.

Percy: “If you don’t want my advice, why else are you here?”

He smiled.

Jaxon: “So I can drink my problems away.”

He said wryly. Percy smiled tightly.

Percy: “Jiro, sweetheart, listen to me…”

He leaned closer to his face.

Percy: “Celeste cannot be what you want her to be. You cannot change her; she has to want to change.”

His lips stretched to form a scowl.

Percy: “And I wonder if her trauma is so intense that she doesn’t know how to love or how to console you.”

He said and cupped his mouth.

Jaxon: “You were in the military. How did you manage?”

Percy turned to him.

Percy: “I didn’t serve long, darling. But… I saw plenty. I am aware I am far from normal.”

He spread his arms out and bowed.

Jaxon: “No shit, but you console me.”

Percy: “I had trauma before I served, my love. I enlisted because there was no work for someone like me, and the military gave me many opportunities I might not otherwise have had. It led me to this very life I am living!”

He spread his arms out and smiled.

Jaxon: “Ever think of going back?”

Percy smiled sadly.

Percy: “No, darling, that chapter is closed. I can reminisce about ‘the good ol’ days,’ but that’s behind me now.”

Jaxon inhaled a drag and blew out smoke.

Jaxon: “How do I deal with this?”

Percy: “Darling, what Celeste does with her life is outside of your control. She can’t deal with you being traumatized about Chelsea’s death or what Ichiro and your family put you through. You can’t control that, and you can’t force her to see things from your point of view.”

He explained gently. Jaxon gazed at him.

Jaxon: “Percy?”

Percy: “Yes, my love?”

Jaxon: “Why did you take me under your wing and help me out so much despite my… many failures?”

He asked him. Percy locked his gaze on him.

Percy: “Because I believed in you. You were a scared young man, and you needed someone to do that for you. You needed someone to be there for you.”

He said softly.

Percy: “My methods were a bit extreme, but love makes you do crazy things!”

He smiled. Jaxon’s heart hammered in his chest.

Jaxon crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and rose.

Jaxon: “I’m going home. I can’t be around you anymore. I need to work things out with Celeste or accept I lost!”

He embraced himself as he sobbed. Percy gazed at him.

Percy: “Darling, you can do those things, but you don’t have to avoid me.”

Jaxon: “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

He cried and marched away. He then stopped himself.

He sank to the floor and sobbed.

Jaxon: “No one has ever done the things for me as you did… Not Celeste, definitely not Fabien, or anyone!”

He bawled. Percy knit his eyebrows. He strolled and knelt to him.

Jaxon: “I’m confused?! I thought Celeste was the one, but if I get sad, she bails and goes to that fucking troll, Fabien, and she always wanted Tristan!”

He cried.

Percy: “So, why do you want to avoid me?”

Jaxon looked away and reddened.

Jaxon: “Why are you asking me?! I… I don’t know what I am feeling now. Sometimes I look so hard for something never to find it, but find it’s right in front of me the entire time! If I had stopped to breathe, I could have found it sooner!”

He blurted. Percy gazed at him.

He framed Jaxon’s face. He leaned forward.

Percy: “This is how I felt when we danced under the pale moonlight.”

He whispered, his face drawing closer to Jaxon’s.

Jaxon: “Which one? We did that a lot…”

He whispered.

Percy: “All of them.”

He said softly. Percy reached out, his thumb tracing Jaxon’s chin before tilting his face up. The air seemed to vanish. Then Percy leaned in, and the world finally narrowed down to a single point of contact.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative and questioning, like a secret being whispered for the first time. Jaxon’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a broken exhale, his hands running down Percy’s torso.

As the realization sank in—that this was happening, that it was real—the rhythm shifted. Percy’s hand slid into Jaxon’s soft hair and rested on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss with a sudden, desperate hunger. It tasted like bourbon and cranberries, but mostly it felt like coming home after a long, exhausting trek.

Jaxon felt the solid weight of Percy’s body press against his, grounding him. He let out a soft, muffled sound against Percy’s lips, his fingers tangling in the shorter hair at Percy’s temples.

The world outside Percy's magical manor—Celeste, Fabien, the stress, the endless “what ifs”— dissolved.

When they finally pulled apart, neither went far. Percy rested his forehead against Jaxon’s, both of them breathing hard, their pulses visible in the hollows of their throats.

Percy’s hands wandered with a restless energy, sliding from Jaxon’s neck down to his waist, gathering the hem of his shirt, and tugging it upward. Jaxon cooperated blindly, lifting his arms so the garment could be tossed somewhere toward the floor. Percy unsnapped each button and lifted it off Jaxon. The contact of Percy’s palms against his bare skin made Jaxon gasp, a sharp intake of air that Percy caught and drank right out of his mouth. He traced his fingers over his dragon tattoo.

Jaxon: “Percy…”

He breathed, the name a jagged prayer against Percy’s lips.

Percy: “I got you, my Pepper Prince…”

He groaned. He hoisted Jaxon up onto the marble counter, stepping between his knees to pull him flush against his chest. The height difference vanished, putting them eye to eye, soul to soul.

Jaxon’s legs wrapped firmly around Percy’s waist, locking him in. He placed his hands on Percy's chest, brushing the robe away, allowing him to map the hard planes of Percy’s chest. The friction of skin on skin was electric—a grounding wire for the static charging the room.

Percy broke the kiss to trail a path of fire down Jaxon’s throat; his stubble grazed Jaxon's smooth skin. He found a pulse point beneath Jaxon’s ear and lingered there, his breath hot and ragged.

Jaxon pulled Percy’s face back up to his, his eyes dilated, reflecting nothing but the man in front of him. He didn't say a word; he just tightened his grip on Percy’s shoulders and kissed him with a ferocity that was an answer in itself.

Percy didn't need to be told twice. He kept his arms hooked under Jaxon’s thighs, carrying him effortlessly away from the bar and up the stairs.

The door to the bedroom hit the wall with a dull thud, but neither of them cared. Percy lowered Jaxon onto the mattress. He didn't pull away for even a second. He followed him down, a heavy, tethering presence that blocked out everything else in the room.

Percy: “You’re sure?”

He whispered, a final beat of hesitation born from wanting this to be perfect. Jaxon didn’t answer with words. He arched his back, reaching up to fist his hands in Percy’s hair and dragging him down into a kiss that was deep, slick, and possessive. It was an emphatic yes that vibrated through Percy’s entire frame.

Percy removed Jaxon's boots, pulled off his sheer socks, and unbuckled his belt. He slid his pants down past his hips. When they were finally skin-to-skin, the sheer contact felt like an explosion. Every inch of Jaxon felt sensitized; the slide of Percy’s thigh against his, the weight of a hand on his hip, the heat of Percy’s chest pressing against his own.

Percy moved over him with a slow, deliberate worship. He mapped the curvature of Jaxon’s ribs with his split tongue, his hands memorizing the dip of his waist. Jaxon laughed a bit as his tongue glided across his ribs.

Jaxon: “HeheheheheheheaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Jaxon’s head fell back against the pillows, a low, guttural moan escaping him as Percy’s touch turned more intimate, more demanding. He felt himself coming apart at the seams, the friction and the heat weaving together into a tightening coil of tension. He reached down, his fingers finding Percy’s, interlocking them against the sheets.

Jaxon: “Percy…, please…”

He strained, his voice a broken thread. Percy leaned up, hovering just inches above Jaxon’s face. He looked at him—really looked at him—with an intensity that felt more intimate than the physical act itself.

Percy: “I’m right here.”

He promised, his voice thick with emotion.

Percy: “I’m not going anywhere.”

He cupped Jaxon’s chin and kissed him deeply, their hardened cocks pressed together, sending an electric sensation from Jaxon’s head down to his member and to his toes.

Percy reached into his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of anal lubricant. He squirted some on his hands and slathered it over his hardened penis. Jaxon smiled at him with desire and yearning for this man to enter him and connect with him on a deeper level. Jaxon spread his legs, signaling Percy that he wanted this as much as he did.

Percy settled between Jaxon’s legs, sliding his manhood into Jaxon’s tight anus. Jaxon moaned loudly and clutched onto the sheets as he felt himself clamp around Percy’s manhood. Jaxon’s arms reached out to hold Percy close to him. He wanted to feel him as he connected with him on a deep level. He moved his hips in rhythm to Percy’s thrusts, feeling his arousal soar.

Percy groaned into Jaxon’s ear, causing Jaxon to laugh a bit in between his moans. He held Percy close to him as his thrusting hastened. Jaxon’s moans vibrated with each thrust. He wrapped his arms and legs around him, as his balls slapped against Jaxon’s.

Jaxon threw his head back as he felt himself on edge. He never felt so exhilarated or overjoyed in a while and doesn’t recall the last time he felt this way.

Jaxon: “Please don’t stop!”

He begged through moans. Percy broke out into a sweat as he picked up the pace. Jaxon threw his head back and yelled as he climaxed. Percy gave one final thrust and climaxed, followed by a hoarse shout.

He pulled his dripping wet cock out, grabbed Jaxon’s head, and unleashed his load on his face and into his mouth. Jaxon enjoyed the feel of his hot cum on his face and swallowed everything, loving and savoring the taste. Jaxon’s face was red, and his body was hot to the touch. He smiled up at Percy, who smiled back at him. He traced his face with his hand. Jaxon closed his eyes, feeling a sense of safety and bliss.

~

After the two men showered, Percy lay in his bed smoking. Jaxon stepped out wearing his red silk dragon robe. Percy raised his eyebrows.

Percy: “You’re not returning home?”

Jaxon untied his sash and dropped his robe.

Jaxon: “No.”

He climbed into bed with Percy, draping his arm over him and resting his head on his chest. Percy beamed and traced his fingertips over his shoulder. Jaxon shivered at his touch. He gazed up at him with his almond brown eyes.

~

Tristan was in his bedroom as Lena slept on his bed. He was on Fabien’s Bungle Server when he saw a message from “Tengu” containing several pictures of Jordi and Ashley sleeping together.

BlairDonati: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!! I WANT TO BE IN A COMA NOW! SOMEONE COME TO MY HOUSE AND DO IT! PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY!!!

BlairDonati: WHY DO GIRLS HATE NICE GUYS SO MUCH?!

BlairDonati: WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO MEEEEEEEEEEE?!

DeimosK: You want to be in a coma so badly? I can arrange that, you whiny fucker.

BlairDonati: NO MORE MR. NICE GUY!

DeimosK: Oh, thought you wanted to be in a coma?

Tristan gazed at the message from “Tengu.” Is that who I think it is? He wondered. Lena stirred in her sleep, and her eyes fluttered. Tristan turned to her.

Tristan: “Lena?”

Lena’s eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright, cupping her mouth.

Lena: “Oh my goodness! Did I fall asleep?!”

Tristan nodded and rose.

Tristan: “Yes, you did. Don’t worry. I carried you up here and put a blanket over you.”

He reassured her. Lena blushed and fiddled with her locket.

Lena: “I’m sorry.”

Tristan smiled.

Tristan: “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Lena beamed and held her hands to her chest.

~

She was in the passenger’s side of Tristan’s car.

Lena: “Thanks for driving me home, Tristan.”

She smiled.

Tristan: “I wanted to make sure you arrived home safely.”

He nodded. Lena blushed.

Tristan: “Lena?”

He flicked his gaze at her.

Lena: “Yes?”

Tristan: “So, uh, I was notified that Jordi and Ashley are sleeping together.”

He said slowly. Lena’s eyes grew large.

Lena: “What?!”

Tristan: “I know. Ashley just broke up with Lazaros, and they have already slept with Jordi.”

He said with strain.

Lena: “How can they move on so quickly?!”

She embraced herself. Tristan knit his eyebrows.

Tristan: “Well, Lena, I’m not certain, but Ashley and Jordi both have this pattern of moving onto partners hastily and don’t allow room to breathe.”

Lena’s eyelashes dipped.

Lena: “I don’t want them to hurt my brother…”

Tristan paused and sighed.

Tristan: “Lena, I will ensure that doesn’t happen.”

She brightened a bit.

Lena: “Really? Can you find them a place to stay?”

Tristan pursed his lips.

Tristan: “I don’t know, Lena. Ashley has to want to leave, and Jordi did invite them to stay.”

Lena looked away.

Lena: “Sometimes he can be too kind.”

Tristan glanced at her and nodded.

Tristan: “I agree.”

~

Tristan walked Lena up to her doorstep. She got her key out of her purse and unlocked the door. She turned to Tristan with a smile.

Lena: “Thanks, Tristan. Good night!”

Tristan: “Good night, Lena.”

He smiled. She stepped into the house.

Tristan walked away, and Deimos landed before him.

Tristan: “I curse the day you took that spirit water.”

He growled. Deimos hung his head.

Deimos: “Even though I saved you from that richonoid?”

Tristan drew a long breath.

Deimos: “Can I have a lift home?”

He knit his eyebrows.

Tristan: “Fly home, Deimos.”

Deimos stood in front of him.

Deimos: “No. I want to be with you.”

He said firmly. Tristan looked away.

Deimos: “Please?”

He said beseechingly.

Tristan sighed and nodded. Deimos smiled at him.

~

Deimos sat in the passenger’s seat as Tristan drove home. Tristan was smoking as he drove.

Deimos: “So, did you see Blair’s tirade?”

Tristan nodded.

Tristan: “I am more concerned about who this ‘Tengu’ is than Blair’s usual tantrums.”

Deimos pursed his lips.

Deimos: “How did he or she take pictures of Ashley and Jordi?”

Tristan: “This is what I would like to know and what their goal is.”

He inhaled a drag.

Deimos: “So… I rescued Celeste from the rubble… and tried to get that dumb dog out.”

He started. Tristan glanced at him.

Tristan: “Thank you, Deimos.”

He said earnestly.

Tristan: “That didn’t work on the dog, though.”

Deimos: “Well, I don’t know how to get a dog to go. I never liked them.”

He huffed.

Tristan: “Me neither. I think if you got that donut from Craig’s underwear and tossed it, it might have worked.”

He chuckled.

Deimos: “Yeah, put my hand down his panties and give Craig hope. I don’t want my name tattooed on the other side of his chest.”

He rolled his eyes.

Tristan: “I was teasing, Deimos.”

Deimos smiled a bit.

Tristan: “Are you going to put Blair in a coma?”

He asked wryly.

Deimos: “The thought is tempting.”

Deimos gazed at the building passing by and saw a chip truck ahead.

Deimos: “Wanna get something to eat?”

Tristan paused and shrugged.

Tristan: “Okay, but you’re paying.”

Deimos: “Deal!”

He smiled.

~

Tristan and Deimos sat on the picnic table by the chip truck, eating fries.

Tristan: “And when June hits, the June bugs will fly out and I won’t be able to eat like this.”

Deimos nodded.

Deimos: “I know.”

Tristan: “So glad I was born in July.”

He muttered.

Deimos: “Why?”

Tristan: “No June Bugs? And I love summer!”

He replied.

Deimos: “And July 23rd is your birthday!”

He extended his hand out.

Tristan: “That’s right.”

He folded his hands and sighed.

Tristan: “And that thing’s birthday is the day after mine.”

Deimos paused.

Tristan: “She never liked that… Hated it. Claimed I stole its spotlight.”

He said grimly.

Deimos: “Kinda like my mother, I guess… Her birthday was June 29th. But she never claimed Lazaros or me stole her spotlight, but she wasn’t happy either.”

He munched on a fry.

Deimos: “I get sharing a birthday with Lazaros as he’s my twin, but I have to share one with Blair.”

He groused. Tristan chuckled.

Deimos: “So, uh, I noticed Jasper is around your dad a lot. How do you feel about that?”

Tristan shrugged.

Tristan: “I found he was boring, but he’s a good man with a good heart, and he makes Papa happy. That makes me happy.”

He said sincerely.

Tristan: “He’s ordinary, but maybe this is what Papa needs after everything he endured. Bastien is against it, but he’s talking to Narcisse…”

He pursed his lips.

Tristan: “I often wonder and second-guess taking him from that place. He seemed happier with Narcisse than with us.”

He stated.

Deimos: “Stockholm Syndrome.”

Tristan nodded.

Tristan: “Yes, where insanity is his normal. I fear he will remain this way as long as Narcisse is alive… I thought we were making progress. He opened up to me about being asexual.”

He explained.

Deimos: “Look, no one gets having a fucking annoying little brother more than I do. An annoying little brother who refuses to fucking face reality. Lazaros is younger than me by ten minutes, but still.”

He huffed. Tristan smiled a bit.

~

When Tristan arrived home, he and Deimos stepped out of his car as Deimos walked him to his door.

Deimos: “Thanks for driving me home… and letting me buy you dinner.”

Tristan opened the door, and Deimos entered.

Tristan: “You’re very welcome.”

Tristan removed his shoes, revealing his sheer socks. He glanced at Deimos.

Tristan: “Did you need something?”

Deimos hung his head. I was hoping for a good night kiss, he thought.

Deimos: “No, just making sure you’re all right.”

He nodded. Tristan smiled.

Tristan: “I am. Good night, Deimos.”

He nodded and went through the kitchen.

Deimos: “Night, Tristan.”

He waved and gaped at the door to the laundry room.

Deimos pursed his lips and shifted his eyes. He made a beeline for the door and entered. He spotted the laundry basket near the washer and dryer and opened it. He rummaged through the dirty laundry and pulled out Tristan’s worn underwear, a pair of blue briefs, and smiled widely.

Deimos: “My precious!”

He inhaled the underwear, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

He heard a noise and spun on his heel to see Bastien standing there, his mouth ajar. He wore a green plaid robe over his green pajamas. Deimos rushed past him and bolted out of the house.

~

Celeste was in Fabien’s house. She gazed out the window at hers and Jaxon’s place. She flicked her gaze to her boots by Fabien’s flip-flops. She pulled off her stockings and tossed them in the laundry basket.

Celeste: “Guess he’s not coming home?”

She knit her eyebrows. Fabien was smoking a cigarette at the dining room table.

Fabien: “He’s probably whining to Percy about you not being attentive to him or some bullshit.”

He drawled. Celeste furrowed her eyebrows.

Celeste: “Well, Seashell Cove was a while ago! It’s time to move on, don’t you think?”

She huffed and paced around.

Fabien: “I dunno. I was almost raped by Finley Lloyd, and his shitty dog almost ripped my arm off. Somehow, life goes on.”

He laughed bitterly.

Celeste: “Finley Lloyd is dead! A client hired me to kill him, and I stuffed his body in some Barry Bear fursuit and dumped it in the ocean.”

She nodded.

Fabien: “Yeah, and that was my cue to stop delivering pizzas for Pizzas, Gyros, and More. Finley was the final nail, but the pay was shit, some customers were assholes who didn’t pay or didn’t tip, and you get weirdos who order pizza at three o’clock in the morning.”

He drawled.

He flicked his gaze at her.

Fabien: “Life goes on. If you don’t keep on trucking, you become Blair… or Craig.”

He grimaced.

Celeste sighed. Fabien smashed his cigarette in the ashtray, rose, and embraced her from behind.

Fabien: “You came to save me. You knew something was wrong.”

He kissed her head. She reached up to place her hands on his arms.

Celeste: “Yeah, I know your habits, and your boss left a message on your machine.”

Fabien laughed.

Fabien: “Gary will understand. A crazy lady kidnapped me, so I couldn’t come into work.”

He said wryly.

Celeste turned around and hugged him.

Celeste: “I was scared, Fab.”

Fabien paused and put his arms around her.

Fabien: “...Me too.”

He admitted, thinking of how Minerva fondled him, and then Craig’s dog showed up.

Celeste rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Fabien: “Wanna wait up for Jax?”

Celeste shook her head.

Celeste: “No.”

She locked her gaze on him.

Fabien didn’t answer with words. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a reverent slowness before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered there, cradling the back of her neck, his touch firm and grounding.

He leaned in, giving her every second to retreat, but Celeste met him halfway.

The kiss was tentative at first—a soft, questioning press of lips that tasted of cream and anticipation. It was the feeling of a long-held breath finally being released. But as Celeste’s hands pulled him closer, the hesitation vanished.

The kiss deepened, turning hungry and certain. It was the kind of kiss that felt like a quiet collision, blurring the edges of everything else until there was only the heat of her mouth against his and the steady, rhythmic thrum of two hearts trying to beat in sync.

When they finally pulled apart, neither went far. Fabien rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his breath hitching as he tried to find his footing in a world that suddenly felt very different from the way it had five minutes ago.

The shift in the air was instantaneous—the playful tension snapped, replaced by a heavy, magnetic pull that neither of them wanted to fight anymore.

Fabien’s hand slid from the nape of her neck to her waist, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her back into him. This time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was deeper, hungrier, fueled by the sudden realization that “enough” was no longer an option.

Celeste made a low sound in the back of her throat—half-sigh, half-gasp—as she backed him away from the dining room table. Her hands abandoned his plaid shirt, sliding up to cup his face, her thumbs tracing his jawline before winding into his hair.

He broke the kiss for a fleeting second to trail a path of stinging heat down the column of her throat, his breath hot against her skin.

Celeste: “Fab…”

Fabien: “I got you…”

He muttered against her skin, his voice dropped an octave, rough and certain.

He found the knob to his bedroom door behind her without looking, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed the door open. They stumbled back into his darkened bedroom, the moonlight cutting a silver path across the carpet.

The door clicked shut, sealing out the sound of the city and the scent of patchouli. In the sudden shadows, every sensation was magnified: the slide of his palms against her tank top, the frantic rhythm of her heart against his chest, and the way the world narrowed down to the heat of the person in front of them.

He lifted her easily, her legs instinctively locking around his waist as he carried her toward his bed. There was no more talking—only the frantic, beautiful language of skin on skin and the shared urgency of two people who had spent far too long pretending they didn’t want exactly this.

He shrugged out of his plaid shirt. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. She pressed her dark hands against his ivory chest. She pulled her tank top over her head and unbuckled her belt to slide her denim skirt past her hips. He smiled and followed suit, unbuckling his belt and unsnapping his jeans to slide them down. He saw her wearing only her purple bra and panties. He hardened through his green briefs. She bit her bottom and traced her fingertip over it. Fabien shivered and jolted. He couldn’t handle it anymore.

He pulled her toward the bed, her large breasts pressed against his chest, his hardened cock grinding against the lacy barrier against her vulva. His left hand traced her curves while his right hand slid against her back and unclipped her bra. He slid her straps past her arms and tossed the bra on the floor with the other discarded articles of clothing.

Fabien gazed at Celeste’s large breasts and her taut brown nipples. He leaned closer, licking her nipple and sucking on it. Celeste giggled as his tongue teased her nipple, and she laughed.

Celeste: “HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT TICKLES!”

He smirked and used his free hand to tickle her other nipple. She shrieked with laughter.

Celeste: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!”

She caterwauled. Fabien kissed and sucked on her neck as he tickled her boobs. Celeste laughed and shook her breasts.

Celeste: “AHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

He tickled her tummy, and she laughed loudly.

Celeste: “FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAB!!”

She laughed and whined. He grinned as he slid her panties down.

Fabien: “Wow, your pussy is so wet…”

He beamed and tossed her panties on the floor. He scribbled his fingers over her vulva, and Celeste laughed loudly.

Celeste: “WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!”

She screamed with laughter as her mascara ran down her cheeks.

He stopped tickling her and hovered over her. She panted and gazed at him through teary eyes. He cupped her face and lifted her head to kiss her. Celeste’s inner core tightened and tingled with anticipation.

Fabien: “Do you want this?”

He asked softly, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. She smiled and nodded.

Fabien pursed his lips as the wet tip of his dick pressed against her wet, feminine core and slowly prodded it. Celeste tensed as she felt the crown of his penis pressing against her. Celeste reached up, wrapping her arms around him as Fabien settled between her legs and slowly entered her. Celeste welcomed him inside with soft little gasps as the sensation of him filling gained momentum.

His hands tightened on her hips. He gasped as he felt her warm wetness against his skin. He began a slow rhythm that sent shivers of delight through her body. She turned her head and moaned as he filled her. Celeste held onto Fabien tightly as he thrust deep. His rhythm was ferocious and wild, and she couldn’t get enough. She clutched onto him as he rocked her hips against him. Celeste moaned into his ear as her arousal soared. She loved this, craved this, and wanted him to push her to her limits. Celeste groaned as her core clenched.

Celeste’s moans and gasps caught in her throat as the climax ripped through her. She sagged against him as he continued to thrust. Fabien drove into her. His rhythm grew faster and harder. The bed shook with each demanding thrust. Another climax came from Celeste—harder and hotter. He shouted as he found his release. Celeste inhaled sharply as she felt his hot cum inside her, and she loved it.

He pulled out and collapsed on top of her.

Fabien: “I love you.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth in an agonized whisper. Celeste went silent, and her eyes grew large.