Bishop (A Frat Chronicles Novel)

by B. T. Urruela

“Do you know how wet you’re getting me?” she whispers breathlessly, her weight against me once more, her warmth radiating.

  I pull my head back a little, and looking into her eyes with a grin, I reply, “I’d really love to find out.”

  “I’m yours for the taking, Bishop,” she mutters, flashing me hungry eyes.

  I push her back onto the bed, forcefully, and she falls with a gasp. She lands, and before she can do much more than look at me, I move my hands to her perfectly thick thighs, and I spread them, maintaining eye contact with her the whole time. I want her to know how many aching minutes I’ve spent in that seat across from her, dying to experience this right here.

  She’s already trembling, her legs like vibrators against the sides of my head as I lean down into her. Her moans deepen as my tongue trails circles around her bud, teasing her, making her squirm with desire. I suck in, my tongue lashing against her bud, and with each rapid stroke, her body tenses and relaxes in a cycle.

  My cock is aching, so ready to be owned by her, to feel her for the first time … and I hope to fucking God not the last.

  Standing up straight, I command, “Turn over. I wanna see that perfect ass.”

  “Yessir,” she replies, her bottom lip slipping between her teeth, her eyes just slits. She stands, turns around, and bends over so that her stomach is flat against the bed, her voluptuous ass perked up and awaiting.

  Taking a cheek into each hand, I shake my head, letting out a sigh. “Jesus, woman. You are ridiculously sexy. So fuckin’ wet.”

  “You have no idea how turned on I am right now. I haven’t come like that in—God, just fuck me. Please, fuck me. I need you in in me so bad.”

  “And I need you, but Lord, I’d have to be an animal not to do this first.” Spreading her ass cheeks, I dive down toward her, my tongue out and connecting with her tight little asshole. She lets out a light squeal of both pleasure and surprise as I circle her hole with my tongue. Her subsequent whimpers send surges of pleasure through me, heart-racing pleasure like the kind I felt when I was a teenager just discovering the whole wide world of sex. She makes it all feel so brand new again.

  Her whimpers build to desperate moans, and the sheen from her absurdly—and deliciously—wet pussy, makes my hunger for her impossible to ignore. Not that I’d want to. I stand up straight, my hands still spreading her ass cheeks apart, and I lead the tip of my dick to her pussy, which glistens from the cum and saliva I left behind. Slowly, I work my dick in, the warmth electrifying, the feeling rushing down each limb.

  Working her pussy in slow thrusts, I wet a finger with my tongue and begin lightly circling her asshole with it. Her moans intensify, her breathing heavy. Her whimpers slay me. They will me to work a finger inside her asshole slowly as I thrust my hips harder. She gasps as I settle my entire finger inside her, and each time I pull my dick out of her and thrust back in, I come hither my finger in her asshole, working both holes simultaneously. I’m driven like a madman by her quickly escalating screams of pleasure. When she shouts my name, I can feel my dick pulsate inside her, ready to unleash the cum that’s been building since the first day I sat across from her.

  “Oh fuck, Bishop, I’m going to come again. Oh God. Oh God,” she cries. “Oh my God!”

  She drives her ass up into me, her arms sprawled out like she’s being searched and hands clinching the bedspread as her whole body seizes.

  “Put it in my ass, Bishop,” she manages to say between labored breaths.

  Slowly removing my finger and dick from her, I grin as she lets out a gasp. Leaning down on top of her, I move my lips to her ear and whisper, “Are you sure?”

  “Oh God, yes,” she whispers. “Please fuck my tight little hole, Bishop. I need it so bad.”

  Kissing her neck first, I straighten and meet the tip of my cock with her asshole.

  She gasps already and I’ve yet to do a thing.

  I spit in my hand and wet my dick with it before entering her, one slow inch at a time.

  “Oh fuck!” she cries, her head tilted to the side, and I can see her face is completely flush now.

  I continue until I’m settled completely inside her, and she cries out in pleasure. Just the feel of her tight warm hole surrounding me, even with no motion, stirs the cum in my sack. Never have I felt an asshole so perfect in my life.

  “Start slow, baby,” she says, looking back at me. “And then fuck me up.”

  Her words send a signal directly to my balls, letting them know to get ready to fire. As I slowly work my cock in and out of her tight hole in smooth strokes, she drops her face into the mattress and lets out a satisfied moan, which is stifled by the bedspread. Leaning down into her, I reach a hand to her mouth for her to suck, while my teeth nibble her neck, all the while, my hips thrusting in coordinated movements meant to hit just the right spot.

  Her breathing picks up right along with my pace, her whole body red now, her hands white-knuckled as they grip the bedspread. Streaks of red across her back mark where my nails have been

  “It’s happening again. I’m almost there,” she gasps. “Oh my God, I’m going to come again.”

  This time I’m going to come with her. The floodgates have opened, my resistance disposed of.

  As she screams out in orgasmic pleasure for the third time tonight, I unleash a load of cum inside her as I slam down into her hot ass for the last time, settling against her with my cock still inside, the all-out buzz from orgasm transitioning to the usual post-coital numbness that my seizing muscles cause.

  “FUCK!” I’m an animal, my humanity set aside as the orgasm floods me with an electrifying euphoria. I lay beside her, my chest falling and rising with each ragged breath.

  She turns over, kissing me on my stomach and chest, before she lays down on her back beside me, her head upon my chest as she lets out a pleasured sigh.

  “Wow.” She lets the word linger, a wide smile on her face, her eyes closed.

  “You’re tellin’ me.” I chuckle. “I’ve thought a lot about that this the past month. A lot. But never could I have predicted it would be that good!”

  “I haven’t felt anything like that in my entire life. Ever. Not even in the best days of my marriage.” She looks at me and smiles, patting my chest. “I just may have to keep you around once our sessions are finished.”

  “I sure hope you do.” I hesitate before asking, “No regrets?”

  She shakes her head firmly. “Not a single one. That was everything I’ve wanted, everything I’ve thought about for so long. I want more. I want so much more.”

  “The night is young, beautiful.” I smile, motioning toward the sliding glass door that leads to a small balcony. “But dear Lord, do I need a cigarette break. Care to join me?”

  “Absolutely. I mean, I won’t partake, but I’ll keep you company.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” I smirk, standing from the bed slowly, my legs still wobbly as I start to get dressed. “I was hoping you weren’t back on the train at least.”

  “No. I nearly coughed up a lung after that night at the hotel.” She stands too, taking a moment to steady herself, her eyes going wide. “Jesus. I can barely feel my legs.”

  I laugh.

  “I’m serious,” she says, laughing too as she grabs a satin nightgown from a hook on her bedroom door and throws it on. She then leads me out onto the balcony.

  Lighting up a cigarette, I take a puff and eye her through the exhaled smoke. “Can I ask you somethin’, now that we got that first round outta the way?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you have to get an apartment? Why not him?”

  She shrugs. “He has a lot more stuff at the house than I do. His home office. The home gym. It just made more sense for me to move out.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “About four months since we separated. Since I found out about everything.”

  “How did you find out? If you don’t mind.”

  She puts a hand up.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Smiling, she says, “You know, when we first got together, there weren’t cell phones. You had personal ads to meet people, but I never knew anyone who used them. After we had been married for a little bit, and the internet started becoming a thing, I never in a million years would’ve suspected anything. Nor did I know enough about online dating, chatrooms, whatever, to think anything of it. So, I never paid it any mind until, one day, I did. I was looking on his computer for an old photo of mine for a family reunion and stumbled upon some nudes … and not of me! Well, that got me snooping, and I found more than I ever bargained for. Years and years of infidelity.”

  “How long did you stay with him after you found out? The first time, I mean.”

  Her eyes fall to the balcony floor as a look of shame crosses her face. “Probably another five or six months, I suppose. Enough time to find out he wasn’t going to stop. And now, with him knocking his secretary up…” She lets out a heavy sigh, lifting her palms into the air. “What do you do?”

  “Well …” I take one last drag of my cigarette and then dab it out on the metal railing. I exhale the smoke and continue, “He’s missin’ out. Big time.” Kissing her first, I then motion to the bedroom. “Round two?”

  She grins. “Promise to give it to me like you did before? My ass needs more attention.”

  “Fuck, I can certainly comply. Happily.” I smile, tapping her ass with my hand. “Now, hurry up and get in there.”

  She passes me a playful look, scurrying in as she the gown slips from her shoulders to the floor, that beautiful ass beckoning me again, willing me into the room after her.

  MY PHONE RINGS, ANNOYINGLY WAKING me from my slumber. Rubbing my eyes first, I check the time on Carleigh’s alarm clock: Two o’clock in the morning.

  I grab the phone, spotting Sarge’s name, and press answer.

  “Hey, Sarge. What’s goin’ on, man?”

  There’s silence over the line.

  “Sarge?”

  I hear a sniffle and some rustling in the background. “Yeah,” he mutters.

  “What’s wrong, man?”

  There are more sniffles across the line. He clears his throat. “I just, it’s … I don’t know how to say it.” He breaks down crying.

  “I’ll come over, bro. Whatever it is, we’ll work through it. Okay?”

  He hesitates before muttering, “Okay.”

  I hang up and race to put on clothing. Carleigh stirs in her sleep next to me. I lean in toward her, kissing her forehead, and she wakes with a smile.

  “Are you okay?” she asks in a raspy tone, her eyes just little slits.

  “Yeah, something’s goin’ on with a friend. I’ve gotta go see how he’s doin’.”

  She sits up, leaning on an elbow. “Who is it?”

  “Sarge. My Big Brother in the fraternity. He’s a military guy too. Former Army Ranger. Didn’t tell me what’s up, but he’s not one to call for just anything.”

  “Oh okay. Drive safe, please.”

  “I will.” I smile, kissing her lips and then her forehead again. “I’ll text you when I get there. Keep my spot warm?”

  She’s on her side now, the blanket falling and exposing her beautiful breasts. Patting the spot next to her, she says, “It’s all yours. We both are.”

  She winks, and my dick throbs in my pants at her words. I yearn to stay, to fuck her silly and then hold her all night, but I need to be there for Sarge, whatever it is he has going on, just as he’s been there for me.

  “Talk to you soon, gorgeous,” I say, blowing her a kiss before I make my way out the door, down the steps, and out of her apartment, walking with a purpose and desire to make sure my buddy is okay, all while a raging fucking hard-on still pushes angrily against the denim.

  After a short drive, I reach Sarge’s apartment, and park the Jeep. Hopping out, I hurriedly walk to his front door and knock.

  There’s no answer.

  I knock again.

  Nothing.

  Trying the door handle, I see it’s unlocked, and I cautiously open the door.

  “Hey Sarge, you in here, bro?” I call out into the darkness.

  Nothing.

  Taking a few steps inside, I call out again, “Sarge, buddy, it’s Bishop. I don’t wanna get shot today, man. You in here?”

  “Back here,” his gravelly, tired voice responds.

  I walk down the hall, toward an open bedroom door at the end. Peeking my head inside, I see Sarge seated on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and an empty bottle of vodka beside him. Another is smashed to bits on the carpeted floor, along with a few broken picture frames. Looking closer, I see all the pictures feature Sarge with the same man. I’m assuming it’s Jonah.

  “Fuck, what happened, bro?” I tiptoe past the scattered glass shards, making my way to the bed. Moving the vodka bottle over, I take a seat beside him and place a hand at the nape of his neck. He takes heavy, congested breaths, his eyes puffy and red, his cheeks glistening.

  “There have been signs for a while now. That maybe he wasn’t happy,” Sarge responds, sniffling and wiping an arm across his face. “I guess I’ve noticed them and just didn’t want to believe it.”

  “Did he break up with you?”

  “Worse.”

  “Cheated on you?” I ask.

  He nods. “Has been for some time now.”

  “Fuck, Sarge. I’m sorry, man. I know you two have been together a long time now.”

  “Five years. Five years wasted. And he was fucking around on me for two of them. God, how could I be so stupid?” He scoffs, dropping his head into his hands. A new wave of tears takes hold.

  I give his neck a good squeeze. “Fuck him, man. If he’s gonna fuck around on you, he’s not worth your time or your tears.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. He doesn’t want me anymore. He said he fell in love with this Chaz guy.”

  “Fuckin’ Chaz. Who the fuck names their kid Chaz?”

  “I think it’s short for Chester.”

  “Well, fuck me, that’s even worse. Chester? When your name’s so bad that the best alternative you can come up with is Chaz, well, you might as well just off yourself. After killin’ your parents, of course, for givin’ you such a stupid fuckin’ name in the first place.”

  Sarge laughs, shaking his head. He snorts back through his congested nose and says, “It is a stupid fucking name.”

  “You wanna put bologna on his car?”

  “What are you, twelve?” Sarge asks, a judgmental arch in his brow. He hesitates before adding, “You have to use cooked spaghetti. It works better.”

  We both laugh loudly.

  His eyes scan the nearly destroyed room and he shakes his head. “Fuck, I really lost it. I’m sorry I called you, Bish. I just didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  “Dude, don’t even mention it. Anytime. Anything. Anywhere. You holler. Now …” I stand, surveying the room. “Let’s get this place cleaned up and plot out some good revenge.” My lips curl into an evil grin.

  With the room reasonably clean now, and our plan in place, Sarge and I sit at the computer, working up the first part of the plan.

  “So, do we wanna go all out here? What should I put?” I ask, looking over at him.

  He grins, responding, “Let’s make a few. We’ll link one to his cell number and the rest to his emails. Click the personal ads, right there.” Sarge points to the screen where Craigslist.org sits. I click the personal ads and a list comes up. He points to one that says, ‘Casual Encounters.’ “Yeah, click that one. And click on the Male for Male section, then ‘New Post.’”

  I do as he says, and a post template pops up.

  Sarge smiles. “Okay, put twenty-three-year-old twink looking for daddy to use and abuse my asshole. I like fisting and wet sports. Particularly interested in some Kentucky Klondike Bar action.”

  I stop typing and look over at him with furrowed brows. “What the fuck is that?”

  He laughs out loud. “Freezi
ng a shit and fucking someone with it.”

  I pretend to gag. “Is that a real thing?”

  He shrugs. “It’s a real term. Fuck knows if anyone actually does it. I wouldn’t doubt it though. Had to come from somewhere.”

  “Holy shit. He’s gonna get some real superstars hittin’ him up. This is gonna be epic.”

  “Fuck yeah. That one’s good. Post it and let’s do another one.”

  I press the post button and then open a new one, awaiting directions.

  “Alright, for this one put, DL Army guy, thirty-two, looking for CBT, FF, and scat play.”

  After typing what he’s just said, I look at him, grinning. “It’s like another fuckin’ language. Translate, please. For those of us who ain’t in the know.”

  “Fist fucking, cock and ball torture, and shit play.”

  I crack up laughing. “I like the DL Army guy addition. Should be quite popular.”

  “Oh, he’ll have every queen from here to Pittsburgh contacting his ass.” He motions to the screen. “Let’s do another one and make his address a gloryhole meetup spot.”

  “Oh my God, fuck yeah!”

  He hesitates, a look of shame crossing his face. “Wait, are we really doing this?” Sarge asks, his hands on his hips. “It seems so immature.”

  I pause for a moment, looking toward the screen and then back to him. “Maybe just keep it up for an hour?” I ask, shrugging.

  He grins. “Might as well make it two.”

  I NEVER DID GET AHOLD of Carleigh after leaving her house for Sarge’s place. I assumed she fell asleep, being as late as it was and all, but she didn’t message until Monday morning. I’d messaged her three times by that point like a fucking amateur. She let me know she had a great time, was looking at her schedule for the week, and that she would find some time for us. She asked about Sarge too, and I told her he was okay, that I’d tell her more about it when I saw her next, and that I couldn’t wait.

  It’s now Thursday, 10:59 in the morning, and I’m moments from arriving at her office having not seen her since our night together, and having not heard another word from her since that Monday morning message. I fought the urge to message her again after my ‘Good morning’ text yesterday, and it was a close one. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since the morning I left her house, my mind running through not only the hours we spent fucking in every way imaginable, but also running through our dates, and our sessions, the time I’ve spent with her, the admiration that has grown since we first met.