by Gabi Moore
“Jesus, you’re so beautiful,” he said and the ache between my legs kicked up a notch. His cock held snugly between our naked bellies, I rose up on my toes to kiss him, each time finding some new delicious angle I hadn’t found to kiss before. My mind unhooked itself, I let my eyes flutter closed and I yielded to all the wonderful things his hands seemed to be doing over my skin.
But then he pulled away.
I looked at him, confused.
“Kate… that looks so …painful,” he said. I followed his eyes to see he was looking at my various marks and bruises. He took a step back, his eyebrows kinked inwards and he looked at me up and down. I suddenly saw myself through his eyes. The series of fresh cuts and bruises over the patchwork of older, yellowing ones. The long-healed scars all over my arms and legs that were pale, like ghosts of the gaping red wounds they used to be.
“I guess this must look pretty bad to you,” I said, and all at once, the true horror of how I had been living my life till then came flooding into my mind. Compared to his strong, velvety body, I must have seemed so broken. So battered. Looking at the expression of his face was like staring into a new mirror, and I was taken aback: I was in rough shape. It was as though I could only see how badly Derek had hurt me through his eyes.
He took a step forward and traced cautious fingers over my various bumps and scar tissue. I was a broken girl, smashed countless times and put back together again, and forever more people would be able to see the places where I had been split apart.
“Please don’t feel sorry for me,” I said, and set my jaw.
“I just… I don’t want to hurt you.”
I’d had enough. I was tired of being the timid, flinching victim. Tired of hiding and watching from the sidelines. Didn’t I deserve a hot guy and his big cock? Wasn’t I supposed to be moving on?
“Then don’t hurt me,” I said, and I lunged in for another passionate kiss. He staggered backwards and laughed quietly, surprised at the force I had summoned to push him backwards against the wall. My lips delivered ferocious kisses all along his bare abdomen, down the ripples of his belly and then I was on my knees, and soon after that I was planting kisses into that warm, sweet smelling nest of dark coils at the base of his cock. His scent was intoxicating. I grabbed him and guided his purple tip into my mouth and he tasted of sweat and soap and skin and salt and something else primal that woke up deep, animal sensations in me.
I took the length of him into my mouth, wanting to do to him what I had seen him do on the sofa all those weeks ago. I wanted to please him, to taste that pleasure… his fingers knitted into my hair and held me there gently but firmly. I was a devotee, worshipping at his altar. I swallowed him deep down till my lips met the base of his cock and I moaned, the mere thought of how close I was to having him fuck me causing streams of wetness to cover my inner thighs. It felt wonderful to be there, naked and exposed and dripping wet before him, and I got a delicious thrill in imagining what he saw when he looked down.
“Will you fuck me…?” I said after I slipped his fat cock from my lips and made eye contact. He raised just a single eyebrow at me and gave me a look that I was sure would set me on fire. The next instant went so quickly I could barely make sense of it. Max was a master of the physical. He understood the underlying mechanisms of the human form; he had trained himself in those arts to such a level that when he knelt down, grabbed me and flipped me over onto my belly, I scarcely felt it. I just knew I wanted him to keep going…
“Fuck…” he growled under his breath. I had only just cried out at the sensation of having the thick head of dick press me open when he already driving the length of it all the way into me, one hard inch at a time, and just as I had caught my breath he brought his strong hips back into me again, brutally, opening me up all the way inside and sending ripples of pleasure into me that my had even my toes curling.
This was actually happening. No foreplay. No nothing. We were fucking now, and it was raw and animalistic, me flat on my belly on the floor, and him squatting above me, his strong hips curling into mine with each pump. The sensation of him fucking so deeply into me was overwhelming enough that it took me a moment to even realize that he had grabbed a fistful of my hair and was pulling my head back hard. I gasped and writhed under him. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do but lean into that savage rhythm. With each of his hands prying my ass cheeks apart, his sole mission in that moment seemed to be to plunge into me as fully as possible, and with the oceans of wetness, my body wanted the same.
It was too much. It was scary. His body was so much stronger than mine, so much more dominating. Each thrust was hard and uncompromising, masterfully pushing my body to its furthest limits, and I couldn’t help but to follow. I felt like we had both become animals there on the floor, overcome with something so deeply instinctual that all decency flew out the window. The sounds we made were not human. The way he pulled my head back and arched my upper back was deeply primordial. Together, we went to a dark, dirty place, and with each delightfully vicious stroke of that thick cock, I was edged closer and closer to losing my mind.
In a few breathless minutes I felt him stirring up a bright, molten ball somewhere deep inside me that threatened to burst all over his cock. I was afraid, I wanted to hold back, to breathe and wait, but he wouldn’t let me. He picked up the pace, his hard, sweat-slick body screwing into me even harder, so my hip bones ground roughly into the floor beneath me. We were two bodies, pleasing themselves against one another. That quivering ball of pleasure around the tip of his cock grew and grew and he seemed to feel it, pounding into me so hard and fast I lost my breath, and soon I couldn’t help but tumble into a long, bone-shattering orgasm that had me convulsing against the floor and then back up against his heavy body.
I whimpered and in a heartbeat I felt him pull out, grunt deeply and curse under his breath as a few hot, wet spurts fell onto the skin of my lower back. I could hear my heart pounding so hard in my ears I wondered if I was about to die. My breathing and his came in irregular rasps. I felt electrified, like a series of fireworks wired directly to my clit had been set off and now all my fuses were blown. I was so exhausted I could do nothing but collapse under him, the tension that was in my muscles a moment before melting out.
I regained consciousness like someone woken from sleepwalking. He lifted his immense weight off me and I turned to see him kneeling behind me, his still hard cock thumping heavy against his toned thigh, his deep chest heaving slowly. He caught my eye, and in that split second we stared at one another, him still painting, a sheen of sweat on his brow, and it was even more intimate than …whatever the hell we had just done.
“Kate…” he said, the naughtiest smile creeping in on one side of his mouth. I realized I was still flat on the floor, and staggered to get up and regain my composure, feeling a blush coming on for some stupid reason. I found my way to my knees and he reached forward to clasp my hands and kiss them, then he found my gaze and smiled at me, with a look on his face that seemed a lot like astonishment.
“Max, I’m sorry, I…”
“Sorry?”
One kiss for my left hand, one for the right.
“I don’t know what got into me,” I said. It had never been like that with Derek. Ever. In fact, the whole experience seemed so strange and unbelievable I didn’t know what to do about it but apologize.
“What got into you? Oh, I think I know,” he said, giggling and smiling, and I couldn’t help my eyes trail down to gawk at that glistening, still-stiff cock of his, standing straight up in his lap like the most obscenely delicious half melted ice lolly. I laughed, the warm smile on his face putting irresistible butterflies in my stomach. My face felt warm. I tried to suppress a smile and then looked away, gathering my limbs into a ball and holding my knees against my chest.
“Hey, are you OK? That was kind of…”
“Crazy…”
“Yeah a little,” he said, tracing fairy-light fingers along my shoulders and arms.
“I’ve wanted to do that to you for so long,” he said, his head tilted tenderly to the side. “I wasn’t expecting… well, I didn’t think you’d be so… oh I’ll just shut up now, I’m not real good at this kind of stuff,” he said with a laugh.
“Oh, you’re good alright,” I said and then our eyes locked again. How could it possibly be that merely looking into those hazel eyes of his was turning me on all over again? How could it be that every little stroke of his fingers was stirring something again in me?
He leaned in for a quick peck on my cheek, touching seeing as we were both drenched in sweat, naked, and I in particular had a few dribbles of cum sliding slowly down my back at that very moment.
“Thank you for trusting me like that,” he said, and gave me another peck.
Trust. Is that what I was doing? Is that what this new feeling was? I grew silent and traced my own fingers over his skin, feeling the heat there, feeling the electricity in the moment slowly dissipate like heat waves above a dying fire.
I looked down at my body again. At the jagged scars on my knees, my forearms, on the side of my ribcage… but now they looked different. How could this destroyed body feel something so wonderful? How could this soldier, this killer, this man built and trained for violence, do such mind-meltingly sweet things to me? I didn’t know.
We sat together in silence for the longest time, wondering at the line we crossed and what strange new world it had carried us into.
Chapter 13 - Max
I had forgotten. And she had reminded me.
Maybe it was because I had for so long looked at the body as a weapon only, something to train and optimize and drill into perfection, so it could more efficiently work and be worked. I had forgotten that… the body could also be used for other things.
I couldn’t keep my head straight all the next day. She was just everywhere. I could have sworn I could still smell her on everything, hear her voice behind me, could still even feel her perfect body move and respond to me. The truth was, I wasn’t sure what gotten into me, either. One moment we were doing what we always did and the next moment something began which we both seemed unable to stop. It seemed laughable to me now that I had ever been so angry at her. I used to wonder whether that whole review stunt was just her sneaky way of getting us to this point, but then, hadn’t I happily gone along with it as well?
It had been so long since I had felt a woman, and being with her that night… it unlocked something in me that I hadn’t realized I had locked away in the first place. Had she noticed how nervous I was? Was I obviously and embarrassingly inexperienced, compared to all the other men she’d probably been with? What many people don’t realize about career tough guys like myself is that we’re no less petrified about things in life than anyone else, we’re just better at acting like we aren’t. A beautiful woman like that? I was already punching about my weight with her as it was, and the thought that she could tell how rusty I was proved enough to make me break into a cold sweat.
The classes at the gym were so full I needed to set up more. People were in there all the time now, and the place was getting a reputation in the area. I hadn’t taken a security gig for months and didn’t need to. We had a glossy new brand image, a few freshly renovated mirrored rooms, a part time accountant; two dedicated cleaning staff and someone for the front desk. Things were growing and to my surprise, the money was rolling in steadily but surely.
But after that day none of that held my interest for very long. When I chatted to the front desk about the new fob system we installed, all I could think about was the delicious way her ass jiggled with each thrust. When I planned out the class layouts for the upcoming weeks, all I could think about was her face as she turned around to look at me, lips parted, my cum on her back. When I had a meeting with the zoning official from the council I couldn’t hear what he was saying, because all I could think about was how fucking perfect it was when her hair fell slightly into her face as she kissed me and how she would peek out at me from behind that blonde curtain.
And now after two days of a kind of torture I had never trained for or experienced in my life, I was waiting for her, at my home, in my living room. I’d wait for that familiar crunch of the gravel as she walked up through the communal garden and into her apartment, give her a minute to settle down inside, then call her. I had played over the plan in my mind a dozen times that day already. But something about the memory of the taste of her lips, about how she had so freely given herself without any fear, something about it made me want to take risks for her. It made me feel fearless. I heard a car pull up outside, and her footsteps on the gravel. I checked my watch. She likely thought I was still at the gym, which at this time I usually was.
Heart pounding madly, I stilled my breath so I could hear each movement. I heard the dull wooden thud of each of her steps up onto her narrow porch, and I heard her jangle her keys and let herself in through the front door, then shut it behind her. I waited a few moments, and, sitting legs outstretched on my sofa, the curtains in front of me wide open, I reached over and grabbed the phone. I dialed her number and tried to still my hands.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
Her quiet breath carried more information than any words she could have spoken just then. It was easy to be right back in that moment again, to fast forward straight into that memory of her beautiful gaze stuck in mine. I don’t know how, but she seemed to know that I hadn’t called for chit-chat. She said nothing, and I said nothing.
“So, you watched me,” I said. Though she said nothing, I could almost feel her response through the phone line. Through the layers of brick wall and shrub that separated us now. We might as well have been in the same room for how easy it was to hear the excitement in her breath.
“Yes,” she said, simply. Not an admission. Not a boast. She had alluded to it the other day, before she raced out of my house, and yesterday as I passed by the shrubs edging the side of my house, it all clicked into place.
“Watch again,” I said. Whole conversations shot back and forth between us in that moment, I was sure of it, like little invisible radio waves rich with far more meaning than our brief conversation. After a few moments, the phone disconnected on her end and the line fell silent. I set the phone aside. I unzipped and took a deep breath.
I don’t know why, but something about the way she had trusted me made me feel that the favor had to be returned. I wouldn’t have been able to explain the logic in words, but I wanted her to trust me even more. I wanted to show her that I didn’t care how deep or painful her scars were, the fact that she had opened up to me at all was a kind of bravery I had forgotten to look for in people anymore.
I gulped as I heard her front door open again, shut behind her, and the gravel steps again. Except this time they were coming towards me. The steps became irregular and I strained my ears to hear; I imagined her crouching down into the bushes, and was instantly hard at the thought that she had ever done something so… I don’t know. The whole thing felt slightly absurd, slightly dangerous… and extremely exciting.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the phone rang again. I answered without saying a word.
“I’m here,” came her voice through the phone, secretive. “Show me.”
It was remarkable how well concealed she was in the bushes. The glossy sheen on the big windows caught the light in such a way that it was difficult to see much of anything through them. But, she was there. I swallowed hard again and snaked my hand down to the bulge in my pants.
It was skirting right on that edge of terrifying and hot. I had never done something like this before – except, of course, for the time I’d done it already, apparently, but didn’t know it. I thought it was awesome what a little perv she secretly was, underneath all that uptight makeup and indignation. I loved that she had watched me, and now not only was she going along with it, she seemed even more sure of the whole thing than I did.
I took my time lifting my rapidly hardeni
ng cock from the slit in my pants and angling it so she could get a full view. I stroked slowly and deliberately, every movement for her benefit, my fist closing carefully around the red knot at the tip, guiding it slowly all the way to the base and then teasingly up again. I didn’t know if it was more of a tease for her, or for me.
“I like that,” she said, and I had almost forgotten she was right there on the phone with me. Her words sent a juicy thrill all through me, and I grew even harder. I had expected to be a little shy, but this was easy. Too easy, even. Trying to imagine what she thought of the things she was seeing was making my breath catch in my throat. I pulled a smooth, delicious ribbon of pleasure out through every stroke, surprised at how easy it was to reach that point when she was here with me again, as though just her voice activated some deep memory in my body. Because I couldn’t see her, my mind filled in the blanks and constructed her internally – and I was surprised at how vivid a picture was there at the ready. It was as though I could smell her again.
I leaned back further in the sofa, let my head fall back, and my knees fall open wider, and thrust my hips forward. It felt good to let go, to let loose, to show myself, naked, vulnerable in my pleasure. She had watched me in secret once before, and now it was as though the delayed thrill of that taboo was catching up with us both. I was used to being the one calling the shots. But maybe a guy could get used to this.
