SEAL'd Trust (Brotherhood of SEAL'd Hearts)

by Gabi Moore

  “I watched you come before,” came the husky voice over the line. I groaned and felt my cock pulse in my fist.

  “Oh yeah?” I breathed. It was the voice of my fantasies, like the woman in my dimly remembered dreams was calling me from beyond… I had jerked off a million times before, but in this moment it was all new, all different.

  “Yeah. But don’t come now,” she said. Her voice was silky smooth and low, almost hypnotic. I strained my eyes but could see nothing through the opaque glare on the glass in front of me. I was on stage. I was behind a TV screen, stroking myself for her viewing pleasure. I didn’t know exactly what it was – maybe the change in her breathing over the line, maybe in the faint rustle of leaves I wasn’t sure I’d heard – but a thought occurred to me all at once.

  “Are you touching yourself too?” I said, my voice cracking.

  It took an eon for her to softly reply, “uh huh” and the sound alone had my rock-hard cock twitching in my hand.

  “Fuck, that’s hot. But I can’t see you.”

  “Good.”

  I groaned.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all day. You’re on my mind all the time. All I can think about is how amazing it is to kiss you, how good it felt to push my cock all the way inside you…”

  “Shhh… remember, don’t come just yet,” she said when my voice trailed off. I hadn’t noticed how much faster I was stroking now. It would only take a little more to blast me off the edge.

  “I want to come together,” she said through the phone line.

  “Ok… but I need to …I want to come soon,” I said. It’s as though I could hear her smiling.

  “Me too.”

  My cock was red and hard and close to bursting.

  “Kate…”

  “Wait there for me… I’m coming over. And when I get there, I want you to stick that amazing cock all the way inside me and I want you to come, OK?” I was so close to the edge that I felt a violent shiver rush right through me, sending cold goosebumps all over my skin. I couldn’t answer her, so I simply nodded, knowing she’d see.

  The thought of exploding inside her had my body ratchet up to fever pitch. What a delicious torture: knowing she’d be here any second, to sit on my cock and let me come inside that beautiful little cunt of hers was threatening to set me off right now. My hand froze and I could tell I was shaking.

  “No… don’t stop,” she breathed. “I want you to be so ready for me when I get there, that you come the second you’re inside me,” she purred.

  Dutifully I stroked once more, this time touching myself as carefully as you’d touch a bomb that might explode at any moment. I was so turned on it was almost painful. My breathing was jagged and uneven, and I squeezed my eyes shut to gather the strength to hold off on what felt like the biggest, juiciest orgasm.

  “I’m going to come over. Don’t move. Don’t open your eyes. You’ll come when I say.” I parted my lips to respond but she had hung up already. My heart pounded in my chest. The world went quiet for a second and then I heard the front door unclick and open, then close. My eyes closed, my ears zoomed in on every little flutter of sound: her feet on the wooden floor. The sound of her breath. I was so turned on I swear I could even feel the heat of her body as she got closer. I kept my eyes closed, inching so close to the edge I was about to go crazy.

  I jolted as her hand came to touch my knee and then soon after that her other hand followed. I did nothing but relax back into the sofa, my whole focus concentrated into that single, aching hot spot on the tip of my cock. I could feel it in her hands as she lowered her weight onto me, and was instantly hit with the warm, sweet scent of her pussy. She was naked. I lay back and tried to breathe. Her knees settled down onto the sofa beside me and her hands trailed up my inner thighs. Gently, she grabbed the base of my cock and I let my own grip go. I swallowed so hard I could hear it. She carefully pressed my tip into that wet pool and pressed, her silky folds parting easily.

  She lowered her full weight onto me, sinking down onto my hard cock and swallowing me easily. I could feel how turned on she was. Inside she felt hot and swollen and pillowy, like her body was hugging every last throbbing molecule of my cock. The feeling was beyond ecstatic. If I had had any breath in my lungs I would have cried out.

  She collapsed her full weight down onto my chest, nestled her chin into the crook of my neck and I was instantly surrounded in her – her skin, her hair, her perfume. The tight little ring of her pussy slid all the way down my swollen shaft and sealed over the base, till the full length of me was submerged in her perfect body. To my delight I felt her pulse rhythmically against me, her inner muscles stroking over me, even though we both were motionless, folded against one another on that sofa.

  She stroked her lips idly against my cheek, and then whispered into my ear, “come.” Less than a split second later, I did. Beyond all control, my body obeyed and in one fierce wave the fire I had till then held back from engulfed me and I cried out. She came together with me, and every part of her convulsed with me, from the muscles in my thighs to those sweet, juicy places deep inside her that only the tip of my cock could reach…

  We clutched to one another and rode out that deep, violent orgasm together, her bliss blending in with mine and mine blending in with hers. It was gooey and hard and deep enough that it felt like it was shaking loose old, secret tensions in some hidden parts of my body. I came hard, releasing a giant load of cum into her that never seemed to stop. I filled her up, one spurt after the other, as though each pulse of my orgasm was given to her, ridden through to the delicious end and deposited straight into her willing body, like a dirty, wonderful gift.

  I held her down hard as she shuddered on top of me. Her body tightened and then relaxed over and over again, the clenching of her limbs mirrored inside with the desperate little flutters of her pussy, until her orgasm subsided, and she collapsed completely against me. We lay like this for a moment, molten, swollen and knotted together. Sliding out of her again sent a little aftershock through me and I winced as she pulled off and settled her slick, hot little hole against my thigh instead. In little whimpers, she kissed my neck. Still seeing stars and fireworks in my field of vision, I could only kiss the top of her head back absentmindedly, amazed at how hard two people could come.

  “That was incredible,” she said a few times between kisses.

  It felt so damn good to see her like that, like her little pleasure circuits were fried and all she could do was mumble incoherently. It made me feel more accomplished than I had in years. I held her in my arms like a trophy – her super-relaxed, sweaty body proof of… I don’t know what. I felt lit within by a light. I might have been grinning. The thought of that gorgeous pink slit of hers pumped full of my cum at that moment stirred something deep and primal in me, a feeling I hadn’t experienced for a long time.

  I took her face in my hands and searched her expression. She was a little shy, looking away, a coy smile plastered all over her flushed face.

  “Could you really be this beautiful?” I said.

  She giggled.

  “Oh go on, I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “All the girls?” I said and laughed. She curled up neatly onto my chest and I lay back further. I couldn’t describe the sensation it gave me to look down and see her there, perfectly held in my arms.

  “Oh, come on, don’t be modest, I’m sure the ladies are lining up around the block for you.” She had a drunken, rosy look on her face, like she had just had one too many glasses of champagne. I squeezed her tight. The sweat on her skin smelt fresh and warm and wonderful.

  “Um, there’s only one crazy girl lurking around my house, as you know,” I said with a laugh. “I haven’t been with anyone since… well, since before I was last deployed,” I said, and then wondered if I’d said too much. She tilted her head up to me and gave me an unconvinced look.

  “That can’t be true,” she said. I squeezed her again.

  “It is.”
<
br />   Silence.

  “That’s… surprising,” she said at last. My skin felt a little cold. Was she judging me?

  “I guess that must seem surprising to you. I bet you have hordes of guys beating down your door though,” I said, trying to deflect. She sighed.

  “Just one guy actually. And it’s not my door he wants to beat,” she said quickly. Almost immediately she sat up and gave me a weird look.

  “Shit, I’m sorry, that’s a bit dark, even for me. Forget I said that.”

  Again, she was avoiding my eye contact. I grabbed her hands in mine, pulled her back down to my chest and held her there. A moment before I had held her as she rode out her orgasm. I wanted to hold her again now, through whatever this was.

  “Kate? Whoever he is and whatever he did to you, that’s all in the past now. If he ever lays a hand on you again…”

  “It’s OK,” she blurted. “He just went to prison.”

  Chapter 14 - Kate

  My hair was all tousled and wild. I was sweating slightly, a little sunburnt, and wearing an old cotton sleep shirt covered in dusty blue paint. But as I passed by the newly hung mirror in the hallway, I saw something I hadn’t noticed before: I actually was pretty.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, paint can in my hands and a few loose strands falling in my face. I had stared at my reflection for years, I had done my makeup countless times in the mirror, I had examined my reflection so many times I was sure I knew all my features and flaws inside out. But the stranger smiling back out from the mirror was such an unexpected sight she stopped me dead in my tracks. A young woman, active and smiling. She looked healthy. She even looked …happy.

  I walked closer up to the mirror to verify what my eyes were seeing. I wasn’t wearing makeup and by all my old standards I was a mess, and yet… there I was. Is this what he saw? Did this carefree, bright faced woman looking at me even exist a few months ago?

  “Hey, did I hang that wrong? Too low?”

  I turned to see Max standing in the doorway, a similar can of paint in his hands.

  “No, no it’s perfect. I was just…” I pretended to wipe some dust off the surface and then smiled at him. He returned the smile and then gestured for me to follow him to the other room. This weekend, we were repainting the bedroom cornflower blue. I suppose it made him feel better that the reason I was sleeping over at his bedroom so often these days was simply because of the renovations. I didn’t mind. I smiled every time he found another thing to fix in the house that meant I absolutely couldn’t stay there. And in that case, I might as well come over and crash at his place then, right?

  Max had a very material intelligence. Watching him manipulate objects and tools was like watching a maestro conduct an orchestra. He was a man of ordinary words but when he sat down with a toolbox or when I saw him sketch out a bookcase he wanted to build for me, he suddenly seemed like a poet. His compliments took one of two forms: either he stared into my face like a dazed puppy and told me over and over again how beautiful I was, or he did quiet little things that I had to learn to recognize in the first place. He’d subtly position himself between me and any strangers walking on the street, I think without even him noticing he did it. He’d make little excuses to stay longer at my place, or keep me at his, even though he’d swear up and down we were ‘taking it slow’. He was a strong, determined, principled man, and I seldom saw him without his guard down – except, of course, when we were fucking.

  When we had sex, Max changed. His eyes softened. He became intense and passionate and completely irrational. Somehow, it felt easier for me to change, too. I felt myself demanding things I had never realized I wanted before. I did things with him and to him that would have embarrassed me before, but which I felt a strange pride about now. I don’t know why, but I felt more in control of myself and the world when I was screaming and coming hard in his arms than I ever had in my life before.

  I had known Max for only a few months. We were both damaged people, in our own way, and had no idea how to communicate about any damn thing. So we fixed up my rundown apartment, instead. I don’t think either Max or myself knew how to explain what was happening between us, but we could slowly improve the house, and install shelves and fix broken appliances. So that’s what we did. At some point, we’d probably have to decide what exactly it was we were doing. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t jump into another relationship again so quickly, that I would get better first. But now what? I wasn’t quite sure.

  I followed Max and we worked and chatted happily, smoothing that fresh, gleaming blue color all over the walls. Everything in the room was covered in white sheets so we stopped here and there to sit down, have a “kiss break” then continue on with our work. He was cute. I felt great. There was a strong, gorgeous man in my house helping me out and later, maybe he’d do that thing with his tongue again. It was the perfect day.

  Until the phone rang.

  I balanced my brush on the edge of the can, gave him one last kiss, wiped my hands on my shirt and went to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Honey, it’s mom.”

  I shifted my weight and wiped the tendrils of hair from my face with my elbow. I could immediately tell from her voice that something was up.

  “Honey, do you remember the girl I told you about? That Derek put in the hospital?”

  The bright cornflower blue mood of the day suddenly vanished at the sound of his name.

  “Yeah, I remember,” I said. How could I forget? The woman who could have been me. A parallel universe version of myself, one where I didn’t escape.

  “Well I was just on the phone this morning with her mother. I won’t say we’ve formed a friendship or anything like that, but she had some questions, so I didn’t think it was out of line to talk to her, and one thing led to another and anyway—”

  “Mom, what’s going on?” I blurted.

  A long sigh.

  “She passed away, honey. She came out of her coma but the damage was already done. There was a problem with her brain, and they said they didn’t know what else to do to help her.”

  My throat was dry.

  “Kate? You there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  Silence.

  “Honey I just thought you’d like to know, that’s all. Nobody here seems to know what this will mean for Derek’s sentencing though and if you ask me—”

  “Mom, I have to go.”

  “Go? Where? It’s a Saturday morning.”

  “I just don’t want to hear about Derek’s sentence, or about Derek, or anything that he’s done…”

  “Honey, I understand it’s hard for you, and—”

  “It’s only hard because I’m trying to forget about it and you keep reminding me,” I snapped.

  More silence.

  “Mom, I’m sorry, I know you’re just trying to help.”

  “No, I understand, honey, I do. It’s good you’ve moved on, really. I’m glad you’ve…”

  “Kate?”

  I turned to see Max standing in the doorway, upturned paintbrush in one hand. He silently mimed the words you OK? I smiled.

  “Honey? Who’s that?”

  “It’s uh… that’s Max. He’s helping me paint the walls in my bedroom,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “Oh.”

  Didn’t I want to tell everyone about this man? Yes, he was painting my bedroom walls, but he was doing much, much more than that. He was helping me trust again, not only others but myself. He was teaching me things I didn’t know I needed to learn. And some of the best lessons so far involved those sweet lips of his, his veined forearms and his cock.

  “Yeah.”

  “Ok, uh, I’ll call some other time then honey. I love you, OK?”

  “I love you too, mom.”

  I hung up and caught Max’s gaze. He looked at me carefully.

  “Everything OK?” he said.

  I walked over to him and ran my hands down over his chest, feeling the now-famili
ar shapes of his muscles under the worn cotton of the old shirt he had chosen for our painting task this morning. I walked with him back to the bedroom and picked up my paintbrush again. It was easier to talk to him when I didn’t have to look into those soul-burrowing hazel eyes of his.

  He seemed to understand, and we painted together in silence for a moment. After a while, I let my paintbrush trace some swirls and shapes on the unpainted white portion.

  “Derek’s girlfriend died in the hospital,” I said at last. His paintbrush paused for a moment, but then carried on painting.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, and he genuinely did sound sorry.

  “Do you… do you think that… so the problem I’m having is that I should have done more to stop him from hurting others, you know? I took his shit for years before I spoke up. And maybe it was too late. I should have done something more, and sooner.”

  “You feel like you’re partly responsible for her death,” he said. I was a little taken aback. He didn’t leap in with platitudes and clichés. The paintbrush just kept stroking over the walls.

  “Yes.”

  “You wonder if you could have taken some different course of action, one that would have resulted in her living instead of dying.”

  “Yeah.” I was waiting for him to dive in and tell me it wasn’t my fault, and I wasn’t to blame. But he didn’t.

  “I understand that, Kate. Believe me. Maybe you could have done more, maybe he would have done what he did regardless, you can’t know,” he said. He was using a tone of voice I hadn’t heard from him before.

  “Well, if I had filed more reports against him, maybe he would have gone to jail sooner, and maybe he would never have met that girl…”

  “And maybe he would have put you in the hospital instead,” he said. He never took his eyes away from the smooth, even stroke of the paintbrush, which made a wet, sticky sound as he laid the brush tips onto the wall again and again.