Berries and Greed

But what Beryl and I had done… I’d been nothing but a bundle of nerves, not having to think, not having to worry that I wasn’t pushing back enough, trying hard enough to get the upper hand, because Beryl didn’t want me to. She wanted me submissive and pliant and eager to follow orders.

Honestly, I’d almost cried after she finally let me come. It had been the most satisfying orgasm of my life, not just because she’d made me wait for it, but because she’d been in control of it. Of me. I’d been blissing out the entire time, despite the desperate unfulfilled need to come that had wracked my body. But that had made it so much better.

Beryl had cupped my face, given me a long kiss and told me she was going to get changed—or, at least, redressed in different clothes—before gently suggesting that I have a bath to unwind. I’d needed one anyway, my skin sticky with patches of dried cum despite Beryl using her shirt to clean me off. I’d grabbed it before she could, saying I’d throw it in with my washing later.

I almost fell back to sleep in the tub. I usually smoked while I was in the bath, but I’d already felt languid and relaxed, my mind still blissfully blank. After getting out and putting on some sweats, thick socks and my onesie, I’d wandered out of my room to find Beryl.

She’d been in the kitchen dishing up two big bowls of stew, which smelled amazing. My stomach had grumbled immediately, which had made her laugh as she jerked her chin toward my reheated coffee waiting for me on the counter.

We’d retreated into the living room with our dinner and curled up on the couch, spending about ten minutes trying to figure out what to watch before settling on a zombie movie. Beryl was tucked up into my side, and we were sharing the same blankets.

This was the freaking best.

Beryl peered over at my bowl as I shoved in another mouthful of stew. She chuckled. “You must be liking it, because you’re even eating all the vegetables in there.”

I grunted. “I’m liking vegetables more, I guess.”

Seeing as a piece of lettuce had been the catalyst for Beryl kissing me for the first time. Thank you, lettuce. Pretty sure I’d never thought that before in my life.

She perked up. “That’s good, because I really want to try making ratatouille.”

I paused. “Isn’t that just vegetables, though?”

“Yeah.”

That sounded… less good than a stew that also had meat and gravy. But I cleared my throat and mumbled, “Sounds nice.”

Beryl chuckled, as if she knew I wasn’t so keen on that, then leaned forward to set her empty bowl down on the coffee table. “That was really good. I never knew how satisfying it was to eat a meal that you’ve made yourself.”

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t know. The last time I attempted to cook was…” I cocked my head. “Trying to make shade brownies a few years ago. They were fucking awful. I don’t know what happened, but they did not get me high.”

“Well, my one attempt at baking didn’t go so well,” Beryl said thoughtfully. I stayed silent, trying not to remember the taste of those breakfast muffins. “But maybe I could try making shade brownies for you.”

“You don’t have to.” I scraped up the last bit of stew and leaned forward with a groan to put my bowl down, grabbing my smoking tin before sitting back. “Um, is it okay if I smoke?”

“What?” Beryl’s brows twitched. “Of course it is. You don’t have to ask for permission, Greid.”

I fiddled with the tin. “No, I know, but…”

Were we going to have more sex tonight? I wouldn’t say no to more sex. I’d forgo getting high for more sex.

As if she could tell what I was wondering, Beryl chuckled and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Smoke and relax, Greid. You need a good night’s sleep.”

Okay, so no more sex tonight. Not that I felt like I needed it after how hard I’d come earlier, but… you know. That didn’t mean I’d turn it down if she made the offer.

I rolled a few joints for the rest of the evening, then lit one and waved the smoke away from Beryl as I let out a contented sigh. As we watched the movie, I shifted around at her insistence until I was stretched out along the couch and she was tucked up into my side, her head on my chest. I felt her ruck up my onesie until she could slip her hand underneath and rest it on my belly. She hooked a leg over my thigh, the press of it a pleasant weight against my balls, making my cock twitch lazily with interest. But I was happy just to lie there with her, warm and comfortable under the blankets.

God, I was so freaking happy.

When the movie ended, I felt around in the folds of the blankets for the remote. “What time are you working tomorrow?” I asked as I started scrolling through DemiTV.

“Late shift. Seven ’til one.”

“I’ll make sure I’m there by one to meet you.”

She lifted her head to smile at me. “You don’t have to. I know you’ll be working hard to get that headpiece finished tomorrow, so you might be tired. Ron and Kayr always offer to walk me home when they’re working, and I think one of them is tomorrow.”