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The Weight of The Ocean

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Marcus was having the most delicious dream.

Pleasure was flooding throughout his body, gently penetrating through the veil of sleep and lighting up his nervous system in the most delightful way. He hovered on the cusp of waking, floating on an undulating current of bliss, moaning sleepily, enjoying the ride. Endorphins released into his blood stream, stimulating his groggy brain and adding to his heightened state of arousal. A familiar pressure pulsing from the region of his groin caught his drifting attention, making him focus on the source. His cock was awake and sending waves of feel good to his brain and he thought to himself that this was a pretty awesome dream so far.

The next thing that he became aware of was an enticing scent that teased his senses, making him flare his nostrils, inhaling a lungful of the intoxicating aroma. His heartbeat picked up pace as understanding dawned and he shook off the last vestiges of slumber, curiosity and sudden lust urging him to open his sleepy eyelids just a fraction to take a peek and confirm what his dick was so desperately to tell him.

It took a second for his eyes to focus, but he didn't begrudge the delay because an instant later, his eyes were filled with the most glorious sight he could have had the luck to behold.

Hovering above him, swollen and dripping like an overripe peach, was Tabitha's pretty, pink, little pussy. She was straddling him, facing away, her thighs spread and pressing their warm softness against his arms that lay on the bed at his sides. Her perfectly rounded ass rose before him like twin moons filling his perspective. He sighed, freed one of his arms and reached up to stroke the expanse of creamy skin just to reassure himself that he was, indeed, awake. Warm, soft flesh met his palm and he dropped his hand back down with a happy grin splitting his face.

Best. Morning. Ever. He lay back, looking down his chest where Tabby's breast hung free, pert nipples just barely brushing against his belly as they swung slowly. Past that wonderful view, Marcus could see his cock, standing semi erect and gradually being worked to life by Tabby's talented mouth. Watching his shaft disappear and then reappear all wet and shiny with her saliva was probably one of the most erotic sights he'd ever seen. She had to know he was awake now, but didn't seem bothered that he was watching her. In fact, she cocked her head just enough to look back at him and give him a sultry look and a wink before turning back to focus her mouth on the task at hand.

The mouth in question was currently engaged in a long, slow plunge down his cock, taking his length so deep into her throat that Marcus thought he'd die from the exquisite sensation that was verging on torment. When her tongue flattened against the underside of his cock, sliding with excruciating slowness as she pulled back, Marcus' eyes actually rolled so far to the back of his head that he swore he got a bird's eye view of the interior of his own skull. He sighed in blissful contentment, arching his hips, meeting her in a slow dance, more than happy to let her enjoy herself. Hey, if the little minx loved making use of his morning wood, who was he to object? His beautiful submissive going down on him was a better way to wake up than any damn alarm clock.

Unable to resist the need to touch her any longer, Marcus ghosted his fingertips up the insides of each of her thighs, a devilish grin turning the corners of his lips up. The stretch of delicate skin was one of Tabby's most sensitive erogenous zones and she'd been known to come just from him touching her there. Sure enough, he watched transfixed, as a quiver rippled through her muscles like a shockwave, reaching her pussy and making its petals and opening flare and clench at him in a saucy, "come hither" wink, as if to say: "Come on big boy. You know you want to."

A primal surge of lust electrified his body, rushing up from his groin and blasting into his brain, bringing him from pleasantly drowsy to painfully hard in a matter of seconds. Tabby hummed in delight as his cock thickened and lengthened in her mouth, coming fully erect, making him too long for her to take him fully into her throat. Always prepared to adapt, she took full advantage of the extra length by wrapping her small fist around his base and squeezing him tightly in time to her bobbing head. His brain nearly exploded with the fierce blast of ecstasy that washed over him and he knew that it wasn't going to take him long if she kept that murderous pace up.

"Angel," he groaned, grimacing with the increasing tension in his testicles. "You're gonna end this too soon if you keep that up."

"Are you asking me to stop, Daddy?" She giggled around the length of his shaft, the vibrations very nearly making him lose control. Then the little temptress lowered her ass until it was just inches from his face and gave it a salacious little wiggle. It was just enough movement to cause a drop of dew to fall from her glistening pussy and land squarely on his lips, as if she had planned it that way. He felt the drop splash on his bottom lip and he flicked out his tongue to lick it away. The salty sweetness of her taste blossomed on his tongue and his willingness to submit vanished with his need to take control of his mischievous little submissive.

Big hands latched onto her ass cheeks, their fleshy weight settling into his palms and almost disappearing underneath his spread of his hands. He wanted to eat her alive and licked his way up her thigh until he reached the underside of her ass. He teased her with his tongue, sucking some of the flesh into his mouth and then biting down hard enough to make her yelp. Her startled sound quickly deepened into a shuddering groan as the sharp pain transformed into a pleasure so profound that her breath caught in her throat robbing her of the ability to breathe. He pulled back and admired the twin crescent imprints of his teeth embossed into her skin, his chest swelling with alpha male possessiveness.

Gripping her ass cheeks roughly, he spread the two halves apart, exposing the sweet, succulent center of his woman, all his to be plundered. He raised his head and pulled her down towards him, overcome by a ravenous need for her. His greedy mouth collided with her wet center and he growled with caveman satisfaction as her juices coated his tongue. Screw expensive wines. He'd take Tabitha's pussy ambrosia and die a happy man. His tongue speared into velvety softness, lapping at her folds and teasing her clit, making her quiver and jerk. She was so wet that he could feel trickles of moisture sliding over his chin and down his neck and it spurred him to attack her with renewed vigor, driving her crazy. She let out a deep feral sound and ground down onto his face, his cock abandoned as she lost control and surrendered to his will. He was so lost in her scent and taste that he barely registered the sound of her cell phone rattling and blaring out some obnoxious ringtone from the nightstand beside his head.

One minute, he was feasting like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet, the next, his mouth was empty, his meal having suddenly vanished. Tabby scuttled over him and bounded off the bed before his befuddled brain could engage and prevent her escape.

"What the fuck?" He growled in irritation, glaring at her as she grabbed her phone and skipped out of his reach. "Leave it and come back to bed!"

The phone started in on another round of the ringtone and Tabby laughed at him, "I have to take it! It's my mom." She made a sign for him to shush and put the phone to her ear, her thumb sliding over the phone's screen to accept the call.

"You're killing me here, baby girl," he groused, flopping back on the bed, sounding like a boy who'd just dropped his ice cream on the ground. He swore he wouldn't whine but fuck, his cock was aching and his was so ramped up that he could barely think past the driving imperative to claim his woman and get himself inside her. Mouth, pussy, ass. He didn't care, so long as it was hot, wet, tight and His.

She waved at him to be quiet and waited for the call to connect. "Hi mom," Tabby said brightly, stifling giggles as Marcus pointed at his ramrod stiff cock and made crude hand gestures to her. She started to smile back at him but the happy expression suddenly stalled, half-formed on her face. Concerned, Marcus sat up in bed, alarm diffusing his aroused state as if he'd been doused with a bucket of ice water.

Bad news. Shit! It had to be bad news.

Marcus didn't need a flashing neon sign to figure out that somehow, an innocent incoming call had just derailed the normal course of their life in the blink of an eye. He felt the shift vibrate into his soul, the innate sense that fate had just diverted them onto an express track into Shitsville. This feeling of dread was confirmed by the stunned, shocked look on Tabby's face that spoke volumes, even though she hadn't uttered a single word after greeting her mom.

Blink.

When he opened his eyes next, the playful smile on his face dropped into one of confusion, his brain stuttering and tripping as it tried to figure out what the hell had changed. The sense that his reality had just been profoundly altered, left him feeling like he'd been suddenly thrust into a real life 'spot the difference' puzzle and he couldn't put his finger on what exactly had changed. He floundered, stuck trying to mental compare two instances in time so fast that it made him dizzy.

Tabitha stood in the exact same place she had been a split second before, but now it was as if a stranger had taken the place of his beautiful lover - a stranger that had the same lush curves; the same long, chestnut brown, curly hair; the same flawless, naked skin. He could even see the same crescent shaped bite mark he'd left on her ass, just begin to bruise.

The woman standing there looked like his Tabby.

Yet, at the same time, he didn't recognize her.

He squeezed his eyes closed, opened them up and sure enough, the imposter was still there. A thief had snuck in and taken his vivacious, sexy girl, leaving him a cheap, two-dimensional imitation of her in her place. He knew that this was an outlandish conclusion but he was in such a state of shock that it was the only plausible explanation his stunned brain could come up with.

The woman he knew - whose taste still coated his lips and whose scent was still making him hard - that woman had just simply disappeared.

Tabby's muscles had stiffened, losing the sultry, fluidity that had never ceased to turn him on. He loved to watch her move when she was naked, petite as she was, she moved with the grace of a dancer, especially when she was trying to seduce him. Now though, her movements were rigid, as if her joints had suddenly aged forty years in the five minutes since the call had come in.

Swallowing hard against a rising tide of dread, Marcus watched helplessly as she listened, her eyes gone flat and dark and the lusty blush dripped away from rosy cheeks, leaving her chalk white. Her lips, narrowed to sharp lines, parted and an abrupt intake of air rushed in to fill the sudden vacuum in her lungs. The cellphone, which she'd been so excited to answer, was now cradled like a live grenade in a hand that had gone white as sun bleached bone. The protruding knuckles on the back of her hand, a testament to the death grip she had on it. She was clutching the device so hard that he could see fine tremors shaking her arm from the tension in her muscles.

His mind did a mental 'What the fuck?' unable to take in the startling transformation occurring right before his eyes. The urge to violently shake his head, in hopes of jarring himself out of this bizarre alternate reality, came over him but his muscles wouldn't obey. Instead he just sat there, frozen in disbelief.

For several minutes, she listened to her mother speak while he anxiously waited, straining to overhear some tidbit of information that would explain the suffocating shroud that had befallen their room. He shuddered as her face went from sheet white to ash grey and her other tiny hand fisted against her chest, unconsciously trying to protect herself from the stabbing pain of the news she was receiving.

"Tabby?" he called out, trying to get her attention. He was concerned and more than a little bit frightened. "What's happened?" She just shook her head dismissively at him and moved further away, putting as much space between them as she could without exiting their bedroom. She turned her back to him and in her naked state, the pallor of her skin combined with the stiffness in her muscles, making her look like a goddess chiselled from marble.

"When?" The whispered, lost sound to her voice sent a flurry of cold shivers crawling over his naked skin like a horde of insects, biting and stinging as they skittered. Even her voice was unrecognizable - emotionless and brittle. She had gone from sounding bright and alive like brilliant summer, to the cold, lonely death of winter.

"Tabby!" he barked, more forcefully this time, getting to his feet. The bed sheet fell like a snowdrift from his lap, puddling on the floor in a pool of expensive, Egyptian cotton. She had begun pacing, ignoring him while she spoke quietly into the phone. He took a step towards her and the movement caught her attention, making her cast an agitated look over her shoulder. If the sight of him standing gloriously naked had had any effect on her, she didn't show any sign - she looked at him as if he had become a stranger to her as well. She spun around, thrusting out her hand, palm facing him in the universal signal to stop and halting him in his tracks. His brow furrowed in confusion and concern, silently begging her to loop him in. She shook her head, acknowledging his wordless question and then she spoke the words that brought brutal clarity crashing into him like a semi-truck hitting him at highway speed.

"When is the funeral?" Her steady gaze nailed his feet to the floor and he couldn't move. The sense of unreality deepened and he swayed slightly, his internal center of balance suddenly shifting faster than his inner ear could compensate. He actually stared down at his feet to see if the rug was still there and fully expecting to see that it had been pulled away.

Someone had died.

Someone close to his Tabby.

Fuck! What the hell was going on?

"Mom," her voice broke and she nearly lost the strangle hold she had on her emotions. "There wasn't anything you could have done...that any of us could have done." She took a moment to close her eyes and breathe then continued in a resigned tone. "We knew that this day was coming...had been ever since Dad died. I guess his demons finally got too big for him to fight." She listened a moment, her beautiful green eyes dulled to the colour of moss. "Don't cry, Mom. Please...he's..." He saw her swallow hard and take a deep, tremulous breath. "He's finally at peace, Mom," she whispered. A lone tear glistened at the corner of her eye, before tracking down over her pale cheek. She brushed it angrily away with the back of the hand that was still clenched into a fist. It was the first sign of emotion he's seen since she'd answered that call, a microscopic crack in her armour that Tabby quickly sealed up before the tear drop had had time to fall off her hand.

Troy. Dear God in heaven. Something must have happened to her twin brother. His heart ached in his chest - not for the troubled young man, whom he'd only met once, but for his beloved baby girl and the heartrending loss that she had just experienced. This was going to rip her apart, he thought. The shock of Troy's death explained the walls he could feel and see her erecting around herself at lightning speed, drawing further away from him with every breath. Circling the wagons and retreating was her way of dealing with overwhelming situations and she was in full defensive mode now.

"Have Jason call me as soon as the coroner releases the body. I'll fly out as soon as I can. Okay. You too. I love you." She pressed the button to end her call and turned away from him.

Dawn chose that moment to break and a shaft of early morning sunshine spilled through the parted curtains that hung on either side of the bay window in their master bedroom. Sunlight fell upon her naked body gilding her in molten gold and his body reacted instinctively. The erotic picture made his breath catch and he stared at her brilliant silhouette in a state of rapt amazement.

The sight completely short circuited his brain and unbidden lust rushed into his cock. And didn't that just make him a heel? She had just found out that her twin brother had died and all he could think about was how fucking beautiful she looked right now. He groaned inwardly letting his eyes feast on the soft curves of her breasts, illuminated like golden globes in the sunshine. His gaze took a long, slow journey down her body, taking in every delectable curve and hollow, silently thanking God that she was his.

He wanted nothing more than to walk up to her, bend her over and sink his straining cock into her heat, giving her his strength and taking her pain. Somehow, genius that he was, he knew that she would not appreciate being ravaged, so he just stood like a dummy, watching the woman he loved disappear before his very eyes.

God! She was just so tiny compared to his hulking six and a half foot frame, that even from half the room away, he still felt gigantic in comparison. It still amazed him how perfectly they fit together. He had been so scared of hurting her, the first time he'd taken her, but fit they had. Her body stretched and she took every inch of him as if she'd been expressly made just for him. It had taken awhile for him to get over the fear of hurting her every time they fucked or he took her into his playroom, but in the course of their play, he had seen what a warrior his woman was, begging him for more, and he fell even more in love with her.

Without warning, his erection gave a forceful jerk - that s.o.b. had a one track mind and a piss poor sense of timing, making him feel even worse than he already did. Not the time, you idiot! He chastised himself, closing his eyes and forcing himself to imagine anything other than how good it would feel to lose himself inside her slick depths. He recited a grocery list, ran through the times tables and made a mental 'honey-do' list in his head until the pressure between his legs began to subside. The last thing she needed to see was him aroused. It would make her hate him and that was the last thing he wanted.

She was so strong that he had believed her to be unbreakable, had taken her resilience for granted even.

Until the phone call.

The strength that he had admired in her had turned against her now, shoring up her defences such that nothing could hurt her. Locked in behind those walls, nothing could get out either. Rage, tears, screaming - these things he could have dealt with, been there to comfort her and help her through her grief. This emptiness though? This he couldn't understand and had no way to deal with.

When he cracked his lids again, she was still standing in the same position, staring out the open window, heedless of her nakedness or who might happen to see. Her blank expression and dry eyes raised all sorts of alarm bells clanging in his head, warning him that something was very wrong with this situation.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" he asked gently, taking another step towards her. The sound of his voice seemed to shake her back to reality and she blinked rapidly before staring forlornly down at the black screen of the phone in her hand. Her eyes narrowed and for a minute, Marcus thought that she was going to hurl the device at the wall. Instead, she dropped it on top of her dresser and turned to face him.

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