Flood

. . . her quiet, controlled manner suggested to me that an orgasm would only manifest itself as tiny ripples on the surface, which I might simply fail to notice.  And she was much too delicate a creature for me to expose her to any stress by asking.  That was why I was totally unprepared for what happened.  I sensed I had to stop but allowed myself a final hard poke.  And sensed that I had hit something deep inside.  Her body stiffened as her eyes and mouth were thrust open wide.  This was followed by some trembling and for one tiny insane moment I was afraid I had induced an epileptic fit.  Then I felt something hot, even hotter than her vagina, enveloping my genitals, and then a tidal wave washed against my stomach, hips, and balls.

I levered myself up with my arms and stared in disbelief and horror at the point where our bodies were conjoined.  Her lower abdomen was contracting as if she wanted to eject me, she gave a deep groan, a kind of lowing I had never heard before, and then came the next wave.  The water poured out of her, spurted out between our hips and ran down into the mattress that still had not succeeded in absorbing the first wave.  My God, I thought.  I have poked a hole in her.

~ Roger Brown
from Jo Nesbo’s Headhunters