by Sam Mariano
It has everything it needs, but nothing more. There’s a queen-sized bed with a nightstand on each side, even though I’m the only one who ever sleeps here. Scout has a dog bed beneath the window on the far side of the room, and right above it is an empty, wooden window seat with cabinets on either side for storage. The only other thing in the room is a pine storage chest wedged in the corner on Scout’s side.
Well, the girl’s side, while she’s here.
“It is.”
She glances at the bathroom door, taking a couple slow steps forward. “Am I…am I sleeping in here?”
“Yes,” I say, looking back at her.
She holds my gaze for a split second, long enough for her panic to register, then she puts her head down and quickly moves into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
I sigh once I’m alone in the room, putting her bag down along the wall by the bathroom door.
It hits me just how tired I am, and I wonder again how I’ll make sure she stays in my bed all night long. Exhausted as I am, what if I don’t hear her get up in the middle of the night? What if she tries to escape and I don’t fucking wake up, so she actually does?
It takes her so long in the bathroom, I start to worry she climbed out the window. My bedroom’s on the second floor so it would be quite a drop, but hell, maybe she’s desperate enough to risk a broken leg.
Rapping lightly on the door, I lean close to the wood and call out. “You all right in there?”
A beat later, she answers, “Yeah.”
Well, I guess she didn’t jump to her death. That’s good.
I’m already stripped down and ready for bed, but I need to brush my teeth. I’m sure she’s just trying to buy herself time, trying to come up with some way out of this, but she’s not only wasting her time, she’s wasting mine.
A little less patiently, I tell her through the door, “It’s time for bed.”
I stand there and wait a minute, but she doesn’t answer. Right when I’m about to break down the door and go get her little ass, the door finally cracks open. She peeks out at me then opens it wider and squeezes through, passing back into the bedroom.
Where the girl tried to take up as little space as possible passing from one room to the next, I shove the bathroom door all the way open so I can barge in.
“Take your nightgown off and get on the bed,” I tell her, no-nonsense, as I walk past her.
I hear her inhale sharply, but she doesn’t follow me into the bathroom to plead her case; she turns and makes her way over to my bed.
I brush my teeth quickly, worried she’ll try to run when there’s half a room between us and reality is closing in on her, but after I finish up and go to shut off the bathroom light, I see her silhouette sitting up in my bed. She’s fidgeting nervously with the sheet. As I move closer, I notice her bare skin beneath it.
She obeyed me, and now she’s naked in my bed.
Maybe this won’t be as much of a struggle as I thought it might be.
I cross to my side and lift the wrinkled sheet, climbing underneath. I never make my bed, so it always looks like someone just rolled out of it.
Alyssa’s still sitting there stiffly, so I tell her to lie down.
She swallows and draws a shaky breath, then she lies down flat with her head on the unused pillow that occupies the empty side of my bed.
Even though she’s scared, the sight of her bare breasts gets my blood heating. I’m too tired and too done with this day to do much to make this easier on her. I just want to fuck her and be done with it so I can get some sleep.
She knows it’s coming, but she still jumps when my hand comes to rest on her bare abdomen beneath the sheet.
“You don’t have to act so terrified,” I mutter, too many years between me and inexperience to remember what this might feel like. “You’ve been fucked before.”
“Not by a stranger,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
Strikes me as funny she’d be picky about that. “No, just by someone else’s husband,” I shoot back, a little sharper than I intend.
She jumps again at the bite in my voice, like I struck her instead of saying something a little mean. “I told you I’m sorry for that,” she reminds me.
“Sorry doesn’t matter,” I inform her, losing my patience but not the fucking hard-on her body keeps giving me. I already let her have peace earlier and decided not to kill her, but I’m not a fucking saint. “I told you earlier: make yourself worth the headache you’re giving me, or you know the alternative. It was nice of me to give you a choice in the matter, wasn’t it?”
She doesn’t answer me, and I’m done talking to her about it.
“Put your hand on my dick,” I tell her.
This abrupt command startles her, and for a moment, I think she might refuse.
Then her gaze slides my way and she reaches toward my lap, hesitantly lifting my side of the sheet so she can slip her hand under it.
Her cool hand touches my thigh. She leaves it there for a second, then slowly inches over until she finds my dick.
At first, her fingertips just barely brush it, like she’s afraid to grab hold of it. She gets over it quickly, though, and wraps her hand around it.
As her soft grip tightens around my thick length, my eyes drift shut, and a shudder of pleasure travels straight through me.
“Is that okay?” she asks tentatively, seeking direction.
I’m not at all used to tentative lovers.
Maybe it’s her age, maybe it’s the circumstances; whatever the reason, I don’t mind it in her.
I sigh with pleasure as she begins stroking me. After a couple minutes of her handiwork, I’m ready for more. Since she seems to be awaiting further instruction, I reach over and slide my arm around her, hauling her close and commanding, “Kiss me.”
“On…on your mouth, or…?” Rather than say it, she nods toward my dick.
Fuck, she had to go and fill my head with the image of her lips around my cock. For some fucked-up reason, my mind chooses that moment to bring Theo’s words from the bar back to me, the part of his story where he told me she gave lousy head.
“Did you suck any dick before my brother-in-law?” I demand.
She has the grace to look embarrassed. “One other guy. Only once, though. We didn’t date for long.”
Inexperience. Theo could’ve taught her how to do it instead of insulting her skill level. Everyone probably gives shitty head when they don’t know what the hell they’re doing.
Well, might as well see just how shitty she is.
“Suck my dick.”
After drawing a fortifying breath, she looks down at the bed sheet. Underneath, her hand is around my cock, but she stares at it like it’s something more daunting than it is.
“Now,” I tell her, gently but firmly.
Her gaze darts to mine in mild alarm then returns to where I’ve demanded her attention. She licks her lips real quick, pulls the sheet back, and climbs down between my legs.
I don’t know why she looks up at me with those big eyes like I’m her savior and maybe I won’t make her do this, but she does. When she gets nothing from me, she finally lowers her head and gingerly takes the tip of my cock into the warm, wet haven of her mouth.
Closing my eyes, I let my head sink back into the pillow and enjoy the admittedly unskilled strokes of her tongue. The main problem is, while she’s trying to figure out what to do with her tongue and my dick, her hand isn’t doing jack shit. She’s holding my cock at the base like the bottom of an ice cream cone when she could be working me instead.
“That’s good,” I tell her, hoping to encourage her. “Now, lick it all the way down to the base, get the whole shaft wet with your mouth.”
She takes more of my cock but stops about halfway there. Then she pops off and looks up at me. “It doesn’t fit.”
“Hold it in your hand and run your tongue up and down my length. Once it’s all wet, you can pump my cock with your hand while you su
ck me.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head and trying again.
It takes her a few minutes to find a groove, but once she runs her sweet little tongue over every inch of my sizeable cock, she gets a little more daring. Once she gains a bit of confidence and starts doing the things I tell her to do, she loses the timidity that came along with not having a damn clue what she was doing.
“Fuck, Alyssa,” I murmur as she runs her tongue around my head and sucks like she’s been doing it for years. She pumps me while she does, and as good as it feels, I decide it’s time to cut her off and move things along. “Mm, you’re good at that,” I tell her, reaching down and rubbing the back of her head affectionately. “A little too good, though. You can stop now.”
She pops off my dick, giving it one last lick, then looks up at me with a strange gleam of hope in her eyes. “You really thought I was good at it?”
I nod wordlessly, but I don’t like that look. “Someone tell you otherwise?”
Dropping my gaze again, clearly carrying some embarrassment about it, she says, “Theo said I wasn’t good at it. He said it like he was joking, but I…I don’t think he was. I couldn’t be sure.”
My blood runs hot for an altogether different reason. “Theo’s a fucking asshole, and you should forget anything he ever said to you.”
Holding my gaze with a strange kind of intensity, she nods her head. “I will.”
Hit with a little swell of tenderness, I reach for her and cradle her face in my hand. Her gaze remains locked with mine while I do, and I have the thought that if I’m gonna kiss her, now’s the time to do it.
Strange a thought as it is, I don’t really know this girl well enough to kiss her. Instead, I shift our positions until she’s flat on her back and I’m on top of her, planted between her legs with my dick prodding her thigh.
Even though she just sucked my dick without too much complaint, now she looks panicked again, and I’m too tired for it. With a sigh of defeat, I tell her, “Roll over on your stomach.”
She searches my face, but she must not find what she’s looking for. Slowly, as if maybe I’ll get so tired of waiting I’ll decide fucking her isn’t worth it, she rolls over onto her stomach and grabs a pillow.
Since she’s already pregnant, I don’t bother with a condom. I forgot to grab the lube out of my bathroom cabinet, too, and I’m too tired to go get it. My dick’s already lubed up with her saliva, so that’ll probably suffice.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her.
She starts to obey, but then she stops, looking back at me over her shoulder. “Do we have to do this? Couldn’t we—I’ll suck your dick again, finish you off.”
“Alyssa, I swear to God, I put you on your stomach for a reason. Look at the mattress, not at me.”
She sighs heavily and faces down again, squeezing her pillow tighter.
Heaving a small sigh of my own, I reach down and guide my cock between her spread thighs. I line it up at her entrance but stop just short of pushing inside her.
It’s not the labored way she’s breathing or even the mild sounds of distress emanating from her that give me pause. It’s just that I haven’t so much as touched her pussy, and I’m second-guessing my lazy decision not to go get the lube. I don’t want to hurt the girl, and as nervous as she is, I highly doubt she’s wet.
After a few seconds’ thought, I let go of my cock and push a finger into her tight little cunt instead.
She gasps sharply in surprise as I invade her body. My blood heats with anticipation as I slide my finger into the tight space between her walls and imagine how incredible this tight heat will feel wrapped around my cock.
Her hips shift as I explore her body, naturally trying to move away from the foreign intrusion. Rather than withdraw like she wants me to, I slide my finger deeper into her.
Sure enough, I find some arousal pooled deep inside, but I doubt it’s enough to ease the passage of my cock. I try to spread around what’s there, then I pull my finger out of her body and bring my hand to my face.
I catch a whiff of her womanly scent as I spit on my index and middle fingers, and a sharp jolt of arousal goes straight to my cock.
This time, I make quick work of pushing my fingers into her, doing my best to lube up her tight little hole. I spit on my hand again and wet the tip of my dick, then I bring it to her pussy. This time, before it has a chance to dry, I push the tip inside her.
Alyssa gasps and cries out softly, strangling the fluff right out of my poor pillow as I push the head of my heavy cock into her. If she darts another look back at me and ruins this for me, I swear to God, I’m gonna beat her little ass.
I make a point of not looking at her just in case she tries it, but then as I inch deeper and deeper into her incredibly tight channel, I lose the mental capability to focus on anything else.
Holy fuck, she is tight. I have to go in slowly, so as not to stretch her too fast and hurt her. The slow claiming is fucking torture, too. With every fraction of an inch I push in, it gets harder and harder to breathe normally.
I close my eyes when I finally get all of my cock shoved inside her. I have to strain to keep myself in, because her body seems to be resisting my invasion, trying like hell to squeeze me back out.
The friction is fucking incredible, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Inwardly, I mutter a litany of fucks as I ease back slowly then push back in again, savoring the way her tight little pussy squeezes the life out of my dick as I do.
Holy shit.
I’m so swept up in how unbelievably good she feels, my world shrinks. It doesn’t matter how she came to be here, it doesn’t matter who she is—it doesn’t even matter that I have to fuck her face down so I don’t have to see any negative emotions that might be playing out on her face.
All that fucking matters is the mind-blowing sensation of my cock pumping into her. All that matters is the way her body grips mine and drives me out of my mind. All that matters is this pleasure and making sure it continues until it can’t anymore.
Just because I can’t look into her face while I fuck her doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy all the delights her body has to offer, so as I drive my cock deep into her pussy, I reach around and grab a handful of one of her breasts. She makes a noise when I do—surprise or dismay, I can’t be sure.
Her nipples are hard. As I finger the tight nub pressed against my hand, another little noise slips out of her. This time, I’m pretty sure it’s surprise.
I fuck the girl until I absolutely can’t anymore, and even as I feel myself drawing close to orgasm, I want to put it off. Once I come, I have to leave her body, and I don’t want to. I want to stay inside her forever, suspended in the torturous pleasure prison of fucking something that feels so good but never finishing.
As the pleasure ratchets up in intensity, I release her breast and grab her hips, holding on tight as I pound my cock into her. Her movement momentarily steals my attention as she grabs overhead for something to hold on to. She doesn’t find anything, but I don’t care.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, absorbing the noises she’s making but not processing them. Are they pleasure, pain, or distress? I can’t tell, and I can’t care right now. I fuck her harder with long, forceful strokes, greedy for every bit of sensation her sweet pussy has to offer.
When I finally come, I thrust deep into her velvety heat and unload every drop of cum I can fit inside her.
At the tail end of my orgasm, I’m dimly aware of her saying, “Ouch.” I don’t immediately understand why she’s grabbing at my hand, but then I notice when I came, I dug my fingers into her hip. I must be hurting her.
I release her hip and collapse on top of her, completely boneless. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I murmur against her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she says quietly.
I can’t move. I can’t see. My eyes are closed, but I don’t think I’d be able to see even with them open.
I’ve never felt anything like her
pussy before, and I’ve also never had an orgasm ripped out of me the way that one was. I was a man possessed. If anything had gotten in the way of that orgasm, I would have blown right past it. I’d kill without hesitation, without regard for guilt or innocence. I’d give up all my worldly possessions if that were the cost to keep fucking that pussy.
Yep, I’m in trouble.
Dread settles over me, but it doesn’t feel as heavy with the bliss of my orgasm still wrapped around me. I’m too fucking spent to move much, but I haul my weight over so I’m not crushing her and scoot back to my side of the bed.
I start to drift off, but I’m pulled back by the sound of her soft voice.
“Can I put my nightgown back on now?”
My head’s too heavy to move when I try to shake it, so I offer a slurred, “No. Come here.”
She tentatively moves closer as I reach out my arm to grab her. I pull her into my side, enjoying the way her soft breasts press against my skin. Been a long damn time since I went to bed with a woman.
It feels nice to hold her, but after a few minutes when my brain starts to leave my cock and return to my head, I realize I can’t just go to sleep. I’m too tired; I’ll sleep too heavily, and I can’t risk her getting away—especially after that fuck. She might not have reported Theo the other night because she had some lingering feelings for him, but I added abduction to the list of sins against her, and she doesn’t give two shits about me. If her little ass escapes my house tonight, she’s going straight to the cops with a pussy full of my cum, and I’m going straight to jail.
That’s a sobering enough thought that I let her go and climb off the bed.
She watches me as I grab her nightie off the floor then pick up the bag of clothes I told her she could bring. “What are you doing?” she asks.
Without answering, I return to my side of the bed and open the nightstand drawer, drawing out a small silver key. Then I walk over to the hand-carved wooden chest in the corner and unlock it. Finally, I drop her clothes into it on top of some ammo and an extra handgun I keep locked up. I secure the chest, check the lock, and head back to bed without explanation.
Gaping at me, she demands, “Why’d you just lock up all my stuff?”
