Full Life Volume One

by V. Marks

  Her moans hit a crescendo, and when they did, Cassie threw the whip aside. With one long step, she was standing behind Leslie. Leslie looked behind herself, upset the whipping had stopped, but Cassie grabbed her hair and put her mouth next to Leslie's ear.

  "You don't come until I want you to," she whispered. Still holding onto Leslie's hair, she moved her other hand down over Leslie's red ass and, with a thrust, slipped her fingers inside Leslie's wet pussy.

  At first, Cassie was unsure of what to do, but she let memories of exploring herself guide her. She knew she'd hit something when Leslie twisted and moaned. Cassie increased her force and tempo, and was rewarded by Leslie arching her back and screaming. After that, Cassie pounded and pounded, wanting everything Leslie could give, wanting her to go deeper than she ever had and to bring Cassie with her.

  But, too soon, Leslie hit her limit, and when her moans grew quiet Cassie stepped back, panting. As Duke stepped in and untied Leslie, someone handed Cassie a soda. She nodded her thanks and sipped at it. Duke, his cock hard, helped Leslie to a couch, where she sat, shaking, her face still contorting with pleasure every few moments.

  Cassie looked around. Not just Joseph, but the entire club had stopped what they were doing and were staring. The traditional voice in Cassie's head informed her that she was being stared at, while naked, in a room full of strangers, and could she please, please leave.

  But Cassie didn't want to leave.

  She put the soda down on the table, locked eyes with a woman with red hair and pale, enormous breasts, and pointed the whip at her.

  "You," she said, and pointed at the empty straps. "Now."

  Blake met Cassie at the door when she arrived home, exhausted, her clothes wrinkled, a bag full of burritos in hand, the sun about to come up. She realized he must have been sitting nearby, listening for the sound of the door unlocking. Of course he had been – he was a nice guy. She started feeling guilty, but the feeling quickly faded. She was so tired she was unable to feel more than one thing at once.

  "Cassie!" he said, and embraced her. She gave him a much weaker hug back, but he didn't seem to notice. "Where have you been? I've been so worried about you."

  "I'm fine."

  "You're fine?"

  She lifted up both arms, showing off her body.

  "One piece," she said. She felt obnoxious, but her ability to stop thoughts from turning into action seemed to have run off somewhere.

  "Where were you? Why didn't you call?" he asked, anger creeping into his voice.

  Slowly, her mind slogged through her options. She didn't want to lie, but she also didn't want to tell him that she'd cheated. He was a good person, and he'd been with her for so long. But she''d had an amazing night, maybe the best of her life. She wanted more. And she couldn't do that with dependable, pleasant, and totally risk averse Blake.

  But, more than all that, she was hungry, she had bought herself a delicious meal, and the number of times she could be hungry and then eat exactly what she wanted had become finite. So she sat at the table, opened her bag of food, and started to eat. Blake stared at her, shocked that she was being so rude.

  "Blake," she said, around a mouth full of food, trusting that the right words would come. "I care about you. You're a great guy. But you're not right for me."

  "What?"

  "You want a wife. Kids. You want someone to build a future with." Cassie sipped at her soda. "Blake, that isn't me."

  "Are you breaking up with me?"

  "Not really. We're just different people, who, if they met now, would never even start dating."

  "We're just..." Blake said. Cassie took another bite. "Is this about the other night? Because I can try more. I just want to talk about it first."

  "I can sleep in a hotel, if you want."

  "Why don't we go to sleep and think on it in the morning."

  "There's no thinking anymore. I'm sorry."

  "You're tired," Blake said. "Sleep is best."

  Cassie saw that Blake wasn't going to stop being nice. Growing still more tired, she wondered if it would be kindest to just let him give her something.

  "I'll sleep on the couch," she said.

  "You need the bed."

  "Blake," Cassie said, stopping chewing. "Oh, Blake." She stood, and, tears in her eyes, burrito still in hand, gave Blake a hug.

  "You're an amazing friend," she said. Without waiting for a response, she stepped into their bedroom.

  She didn't bother to undress, just collapsed on top of the covers. She felt a little sad, but also right in a way she hadn't been for a long while. With hardly another thought, she drifted off to sleep.

  She hadn't set an alarm, and it was already two hours past the start of work by the time she got up. She ate a bowl of cereal almost overflowing with milk, smoothed her hair, and wiped away the most obvious smudges of eyeliner, but kept it smokier and more dramatic than she usually did for work. She didn't want to change her clothes, so she didn't.

  She arrived four hours late. Almost as soon as she'd sat down, she was called into Trent's office. This was good, because she didn't really feel like working.

  "Cassie, please close the door," Trent said. He was leaning against the front of his desk, and started talking before she could sit. "What's going on? First a sex scene for your writing class, which was kind of cutely insubordinate, and now, only a week later, you're late for the first time ever, and, sorry, but you look like you just got in from clubbing."

  "I was at home," Cassie said. "But I was at the club first."

  Trent just looked at her for a few seconds. "What?"

  "I was killing it at the club, but I got tired, so I went home, broke up with my boyfriend, and slept in. When I woke up, I didn't feel like changing, so I didn't. Plus," she grinned, "It would have made me even later."

  "Cassie, you - what? Is something wrong? I mean - sorry I don't know his name, but you and Mr. Broad Shoulders were together for quite a while. Do you need some time off?"

  "That's a good idea. But there's something I want to do first."

  She walked over to his filing cabinet and reached between the paper trays. From a distance, she noticed traditional Cassie feeling very, very horrified. New Cassie however didn't see a reason not to do exactly what she wanted.

  "Condoms, Trent?" she asked, mock horror in her voice as she pulled them out. "Is that appropriate?"

  She took one out and placed it on the corner of his desk with a satisfying flicking noise.

  "Cassie-"

  "Ugh," Cassie said. "Don't you ever get sick of talking? Talk, talk, talk, talk!"

  As she spoke, she walked back to the front of his desk and pressed her hand firmly against his chest.

  "Cassie?" His voice had lost its hard edge, and he wasn't moving away. "What are you doing?"

  "I think it's pretty clear."

  "This is inappropriate."

  "That's fine with me if it's fine with you," Cassie said, pressing herself against his hips. She could feel how hard he was through his pants.

  "Why are you doing this?"

  "You were right. Things were a little too vanilla. I thought I'd sample more flavors."

  At this, she unbuckled his belt, swiftly undid his fly, and pulled him out of his boxers. She got on her knees and put his cock in her mouth. Instead of just sucking like she usually did, she got it way to the back of her throat. Trent still seemed to hesitate, so she took his hands and put them on the back of her head.

  "Make me, Trent," she whispered. "Make me take your cock."

  With a moan, he pushed her head down. She gagged, but it felt good. After a few more sucks, she smacked his hands away and stood.

  "Take your clothes off," Cassie said, "Quickly."

  As he did what he was told, she admired his large cock and well muscled torso. When he was naked, she pushed him back.

  "Move so you're lying completely on the desk."

  Lying down, he knocked several trays to the floor but didn't seem to notice. He watc
hed as she climbed up on the desk and straddled him. She kissed him on the mouth, hard, and with lots of tongue. He tried to move a hand up to caress her, but she shoved it down. When she came up from the kiss, she opened the condom, rolled it onto his penis, moved her underwear to the side, and slid onto him. He groaned, and she put a hand over his mouth.

  "Shh," she said. "This is an office."

  He was even larger than he looked, and she had to move back and forth on him a few times to get warmed up. As she did so, she could feel him pressing against all sides of her. Her entire body was filled with the pleasure of it.

  She ran her hands over her breasts, not thinking about how it would look, just feeling them. First pressing them up, then together, pulling at a nipple as she put her other hand down to her clit. He put his hand up to help, taking her other nipple for a moment, but she grabbed his wrist and shoved his arm down. She moved back and forth on top of him, now warmed up and quickening. He put his hands on her hips, pulling back and forth so that she was grinding on him harder.

  As she got closer to coming, she grabbed the sides of his chest, pulling at him to help her move faster and get him in deeper. There was nothing other than the feel of his cock inside her and the sensation of moving back and forth on firm, muscled skin.

  She moaned, almost but not quite loud enough to be heard through the walls of the office. Although she thought it would be nice, she didn't care if he came. But as she got louder, so did he. She put her hand against his cheek, caressing his jaw bone, feeling how different the oils there were from the rest of his body. On the edge of orgasm, she raised her hand back. In a moment, she saw his eyes dart to her hand and felt him harden even more. Then, she struck him across his face. The sound was sharp, and the sting of it stayed on her hand as the sound rang in her ears. She heard them both moaning, much too loud for the office walls, as they came together.

  For a moment, she lay forward onto him, and he hugged her tightly. But then, finished, she held the condom at its base, extracted herself, and climbed off the desk. She smoothed her clothes down. They were a little better looking than they'd been on the way in.

  "So," said Cassie, "I think I'll be out for a few days."

  "I think we should talk about this," Trent said, sitting up, the condom hanging off his penis. Flaccid, Cassie thought he looked silly.

  She picked up a box of tissues and threw them at him.

  "For cleaning yourself up," she said. He took a tissue and wiped around his cock. "I'll call you when I'm coming back. And Trent? You did good. Next time, you can touch my tits."

  With that, she turned and left.

  The traditional voice was frantically telling her that she needed to fix things with Blake and Trent and everyone else however she possibly she could. But she was getting good at ignoring it.

  Wanting to be alone, she drove home, changed into sweats, pulled a beer out of the fridge and started drinking. She was still sleepy, and she was thinking about taking a nap when she remembered that she had class that night, and had to write a sex scene.

  She sat down with her pens and paper. She fiddled with the pens. She adjusted the paper. She thought about making coffee.

  And then she thought, fuck all that. She was going to die. She didn't have time to screw around anymore.

  She started writing about whipping Leslie. She wrote in first person. About how the club had looked, its scent, how woman after woman got in the straps for her, exposed themselves, gave themselves over to her.

  She finished with a section where her protagonist was walking home, thinking about what had happened. The great thing about the night, Cassie wrote, was how in the moment she'd been, how connected she'd felt to Leslie and everyone else. She hadn't experienced something fully, savored things in the moment like that, for years now. A moment like that felt worth months of what her life had been lately.

  She paused, looking out the window. She wanted so many more moments like that. But how many did she have left?

  Suddenly, powerfully, with her whole body, she began to sob.

  In class that day, things were oddly the same. Cassie sat next to Mel. Lamar lectured for thirty minutes on plot development and the next week's assignment. They all gathered into a circle and shared their homework.

  "I was bad," she said, looking at Joseph, "And didn't have time to do this week's assignment. But, Lamar asked me to rewrite last week's and I did."

  "That's fine Cassie," Lamar said. "Go ahead."

  Cassie began. As she started the description of the club, she saw Melanie looking up at her sharply out of the corner of her eye. When her protagonist started using her whip, she could sense Mel, along with a few other classmates, leaning away from her. She knew she had Joseph's and Lamar''s attention though. The writing wasn't perfect, but everything in it was real.

  "Much better," Lamar said when she was done. "I knew you had it in you. Good job using sex to bring out deeper emotions." Lamar moved onto a few organizational matters for the next week's class before dismissing it.

  As Cassie was packing up, Joseph passed her on his way to the door. "Good work," he said, not stopping.

  "Joseph," Cassie called, a few of her classmates hearing and turning to see what she was going to say, "A drink?"

  He smiled at her, looking straight at her with his green eyes, and said nothing. Old Cassie would have worried. New Cassie wanted a drink.

  She was heading down the hall and hoping she could catch up to Mel when someone grabbed her hand. She turned; Joseph had snuck up behind her without her hearing. Before she could say anything, he pulled her into an empty classroom and shut the door. He turned towards her and she grabbed the back of his neck. They kissed with all the passion she'd felt last night.

  He broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes unfocused, breathing heavily. He moved his hands down her face, over her breasts, and down her side, finally grabbing her hips and pulling her into him, marveling at her body.

  "I want you, Cassie," he whispered.

  "Then take me," she said.

  Hi! This is V. Marks. I wanted to sincerely thank you for reading this piece. I wrote Full Life because I wanted to have a conversation about two things that are very important to me - how people deal with dying and people exploring their sexuality. But if no one reads my work, it's not really a conversation, and it means a lot to me that you took the time to download this and read it.

  If you'd like to read more, and I really hope you do, please sign up for my mailing list, where I'll be sending out updates as I publish more work, both paid and free. The link is http://eepurl.com/PoG15 . As a thank you, if you do sign up, send me an email letting me know, and I'll send you whatever story you would like for free. Or subscribe to either of my blogs - sexhaikuoftheday.tumblr.com and sexhaikuotheday.wordpress.com , where I post at least once a day.

  Finally, I'd like to have this conversation with as many people as possible. I know this is asking a lot, but if you have a minute, please review my work. It's the absolute best way for me to reach more readers, and I cant express how much that would mean to me.

  Thanks again,

  V. Marks.