The Game – Part Six: The Finale

Rhiannon rolled over. She was sore, her body aching all over from her hair follicles down to the tips of her toes. Sore but very satisfied. Her eyes fluttered open.

She stared at the ceiling. This was her last day with him. Their time was up. She would be on a plane tomorrow, heading back home. Her heart felt heavy as she turned her head.

Phil was lying next to her fast asleep, his mouth slightly parted, his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. She stared at him, tempted to run her fingers through his dark hair. Instead, she snuggled in closer, feeling his arm wrapping around her protectively.

Her hand rested against his chest as her eyes closed briefly. Her breasts were pressed against his side and as her hand explored the plains of his belly. She watched with glee as the sheet that sat upon his waist began to rise. Her eyes began dancing with delight at the sight of his risen package. Yes, the sex had been amazing, something that she had needed, but she loved him. She didn't want to return to her life back in Australia.

Phil's eyes opened, slowly blinking. He watched her golden blonde hair drape across his chest as her hand rubbed his stomach in a circular manner. Her strokes were smoothing and loving. His hand reached up, massaging her shoulder.

She turned to see him staring at her, his brown eyes shining with lust. She bit her lip before leaning in for a tender kiss. “Good morning,” she greeted as they parted.

Phil returned the greeting, propping himself up on his elbows. He was tired. For almost two weeks they had been going at it like rabbits, their bodies interlocking, grinding against each other for the ultimate satisfaction. And while Phil had been back at work this week, his mind hadn't been on the job at all. It had been in bed, with her, doing all kinds of naughty things.

Rhiannon stretched, her black tipped fingers flexing. “Oww,” she said as she settled back down against him. “That hurt.”

“You OK, baby?” Phil asked, running his hand through her hair. She nodded and just explained that she was a little sore. She wasn't use to a two week straight sex session, no matter how much she wanted one. He kissed her forehead. 

Rhiannon sat up, the sheet falling from her body. Phil cringed as he saw the red marks on her back from where he had used a riding crop on her when she 'disobeyed' him. They looked like angry wounds. He ran his hand over one of them. Rhiannon flinched, pulling away from him. She glanced over her shoulder, her normally blue-green eyes were grey.

“I'm going in the shower,” she announced, standing and walking swiftly to the bathroom, stopping only to grab some clothing. 

For a moment Phil thought about joining her. He threw the sheet off, his erection released to the cool air. He walked over to the door in time just to hear her lock it. Phil placed his hand on the door, knowing that she wanted some alone time. He threw on a pair of shorts and ripped the sheets off the bed. Might as well put on fresh ones while no one was using them.

He was still making the bed when Rhiannon emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her freshly washed hair. She had put on a short skirt and a simple white T-shirt. He could see the outline of her bra under the T-shirt. It had been a while since she wore one. 

“Can I help?” she asked, standing by the far corner, awaiting his command.

“Sure.”

It didn't take them long to finish making the bed. Phil watched as Rhiannon fluffed his pillows and waved her hand over the bottom sheet to remove any creases. She stood up. “Done,” she said, flashing him a warm smile.

Phil smiled and picked up his sheets before moving out of his room and down the stairs to his laundry. Rhiannon followed, holding a pillow case that he had dropped. Phil had dropped the sheets on the floor. Rhiannon walked past him, her body brushing against his. His erection was still there and it painfully reminded him so.

She glanced around the small room before taking a seat on top of the washing machine. “Nice size,” she commented. Phil's head snapped up as he looked at her. She gave him a perplexed look before waving her hand around. “The laundry,” she said. “It's a nice size.”

Phil shook his head. He had sex on the brain. He picked up the sheets before realising that she was sitting on the machine. “Sweetie, you might want to move,” he said.

Rhiannon stared at him. “Why? It's a front loader. You can access it with me sitting here.” She folded her arms across her ample chest in defiance and Phil couldn't help but laugh. He may have been her master a week ago, but now it was a different story.

She parted her legs as he opened the machine. He glanced up as he loaded the sheets. His cock pulsed and throbbed when he saw she wasn’t wearing any panties under that skirt. 

Her pussy glistened, the scent of her arousal flooded his nose. 

“See something you like?”

Her voice broke his train of thought. Phil glanced up at her. Her eyes had turned jade green as she licked her lips. Phil stood up, closing the washing machine before turning it on.

It vibrated and shook causing a moan of surprise and pleasure to escape from Rhiannon's throat. Phil placed a firm hand on each of her thighs, holding her down, letting the vibrations of the washing machine pulse against her clitoris.

Rhiannon threw her head back, her hair falling free of the towel, tumbling down in soft, wet waves over her shoulders. Her eyes were closed and her hips rocked against the machine. Phil watched with interest as her tongue slipped out of her mouth and wetted her body lip.

Phil leaned in, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck as they passionately kissed. Removing one hand from her thigh, Phil awkwardly removed his shorts, dropping them to the ground.

“Are you OK to do this?” he asked, dusting light kisses on her jaw line. “Not too sore?” Rhiannon shook her head and to prove she was more than ready, she pulled off her T-shirt discarding it to the side. Phil smiled and kissed her deeply as he entered her aching and willing flesh.

Rhiannon whimpered. She was wet, willing but very sore. The old saying of “there's a fine line between pleasure and pain” came to her mind. She had found that line. Phil's rock hard cock stroking in and out of her was setting her on fire. Every nerve in her body was alive and the friction of their bodies grinding against each other hurt. But it was a good hurt. Her state of arousal grew, her moan of pleasure were music to his ears.

She clawed his back, her nails leaving slick marks on his sweat-soaked skin as the washing machine went into its second cycle. The vibrations of the machine against her clitoris intensified. She gripped Phil's shoulders, biting the flesh as an orgasm rushed over her.

Phil could feel her body convulse, her muscles tensing, gripping him as she came. He could feel the vibrations of the washing machine as he penetrated her deeper with each thrust. The combination of her tight, wet, warm body and the machines vibrations was enough to send Phil over the edge. He called out her name as he came deep inside her.

Exhausted, they lent on each other for support, the washing machine still moving. Phil pulled out of her, and Rhiannon released him from her grip.

“That was....intense,” she said, gasping for air, sliding off the washer. Phil smiled, grabbing his shorts, pulling them on. He wrapped her up in his arms, holding her still shaking body, running his hands through her damp hair. “It sure was,” he said, kissing her forehead.

She stared up at him with big blue eyes. “I love you,” she said, her eyes blinking back tears. “I don't want to leave.”

Phil felt his heart ache inside his chest. He closed his eyes. “I love you too, sweetie,” he told her, pulling her in close.

He didn't want her to leave. Their two weeks together had been the most intense yet satisfying experience of his life. He had never met someone who he connected with so well. Yes, their sex life had been nothing but fireworks, but also their love of interests outside the bedroom had given their relationship a new level of foundation.

“Marry me,” he said.

Rhiannon pulled back from him, her eyes wide. “What?” she asked, not sure if she heard him correctly. Maybe he had actually said “Mary Lee.”

“Marry me.”

To prove he was serious, Phil got down on one knee in the middle of his laundry room. “Rhiannon, will you marry me?” he asked.

For the first time since he met her, he wasn't able to read her expression. Her eyes were wide, their colour flicking from blue to green and back again. Her hand covered her mouth and for the faintest of moments, Phil felt like his heart had stopped.

“Yes.”

Now it was his turn to presume he was dreaming. “Say again, love?” he asked, giving her hand a squeeze.

Rhiannon nodded her head. “Yes, of course I will,” she said again, blinking back tears.

Phil stood up, wrapped her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground. He kissed her passionately, his tongue massaging hers, his moans of delight and pleasure mixing with hers. She pulled back. “You do know that I want a proposal that's a little different?” she teased.

Phil laughed. “I know, darling. Tell you what, how about we go upstairs, make love one more time, get dressed then we'll go out, buy you a ring and tonight, while we're at dinner, I'll make a scene and propose in the restaurant? Is that OK with you?”

Rhiannon flashed him a sly grin, her eyes turning deep emerald green. “You had me at make love,” she teased.

Phil grabbed her pulling her into him, his cock straining against his shorts. He unzipped his fly, releasing himself. He guided himself into her waiting body, pushing her against the wall. Her gasps and moans got louder as the washing machine shook violently.

Rhiannon wrapped her legs around Phil's body, allowing him deeper access to her body as she writhed in pleasure against the wall. She licked her finger before snaking it down her belly towards her clitoris. A loud, groan escaped from her as she began to rub the delicate little bud. That familiar fuzzy, tingling feeling was building up in her lower abdomen.

Phil shifted his weight. With Rhiannon's back firmly pressed against the wall, she couldn't escape. He pushed her hand away and began taking over rubbing her clit. First he started with smooth, slow circles before upping the pressure and intensifying his rhythm. Rhiannon's gasps were music to his ears. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted and her hips were grinding against his. Her body was glistening with sweat, their combined love juices seeping down her thigh from their first coupling. Her cheeks were flushed, her nostrils flaring.

Her eyes shot open as her body began to shake, that familiar tingling feeling washing over her. Her eyes rolled back as she came hard, clenching her inner muscles, trapping Phil deep inside her. Phil stayed still, his thumb still pressed against her clit as he watched her orgasm take control. 

He pulled out of her, his cock brushing against her clit causing her to jump. Her legs were like jelly so she collapsed in a satisfied heap on the floor. Her mind was fuzzy as he helped her to her knees, his cock pressing against her lips.

Obediently, she opened her mouth, sucking the head of his cock deep into the back of her throat. Her tongue swirled over his length, her hand stroking the base of his shaft, her eyes glazed. She wanted to taste him, to feel his pulsing member erupt in her mouth.

Rhiannon's tongue massaged his swollen head, tasting every inch of his cock as it slid in and out of her mouth. She tickled the underside with just the tip of her tongue before taking his full length into her warm and inviting mouth.

Phil's fingers ran through her hair, gripping the blonde tresses. He could feel his orgasm building. She could too as his cock pulsed and throbbed inside her mouth. 

She increased her grip on the base of his shaft, her other hand cupping his balls, squeezing them gently as his thick, creamy load exploded into her mouth. If she hadn't have taken that last breath, she would have choked on it.

She squeezed his cock harder, making sure she got every last drop from him. She licked her lips as he pulled his cock away from her. 

The washing machine stopped humming. Phil craned his neck, his eyes uncrossing. “Wash is done,” Rhiannon announced getting to her feet. Phil turned back, his eyes softening as he stared at her. “I think it could use another cycle,” he said, as he looked her up and down, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don't you?”