by Faye, Carmen
His steely green eyes told me what his voice only hinted at. He wanted me right then and there, and I agreed. I stood and sashayed toward him, lithe like a cat and wearing an inviting grin. He didn’t move as I fumbled with his belt, intentionally letting my fingertips linger on his skin. When I finally got my hand into his pants to grab his hard cock, he let out a heavy breath and pulled me closer by the shoulders.
I lifted my face, and his lips pressed into mine, his tongue parting them and invading my mouth deliciously. I forgot my work on his jeans, giving in and kissing him back so our tongues danced in the most erotic choreography. We shared our tastes, embraced in passion, and his growing cock in my hand reminded me to stroke my palm teasingly over him, putting just enough pressure through his boxers to mirror the heated pressure against my hand.
He ground his crotch against me, and I moaned, feeling his arousal swelling, too large to hold in one hand. I lifted my free hand to help and pulled his boxers down to free the impressive erection. Even now, after months of fucking, I still gasped at the sight of his cock.
His lips twisted in an amusing falsely modest smile. He still carried the teenage boy inside him, and I liked toying with it. I kneeled and teased him with my lips, touching just the tip and careful to pull back before he could lock my head in place as I kept stroking slowly. The pleasure in his eyes mixed with painful anticipation, but he remained still. He watched me take more of his cock in my mouth, using calculated moves and never once looking away from his gaze, until I managed to take most of him into my throat. I started to gag, and he let his head fall back in ecstasy as he pushed my head toward his cock. After a second, he pulled me back, let me breathe, and pushed me down again, deeper this time as he thrust his hips forward.
The inability to breathe, the novelty of it all, and his incredible size combined to instill panic in me, and I dug nails into his thighs, trying to wake him from his hypnotized pleasure so he would let me go. He did, but he had a rhythm, and he pushed again, repeating the motions and fucking my mouth in a way that told me he knew what he was doing.
He looked down into my terrified eyes and whispered, “Don’t panic, baby. Breathe. Just breathe. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
I believed him. It took a few minutes, but I learned to breathe, and I matched his thrusts, swallowing more of him each time he pushed into my mouth. I understood he was teaching me now, and I didn’t mind. I only hesitated to deep throat before because of his length. Even with his help, I couldn’t take his cock to the hilt, but what I managed seemed to be enough for him.
He stopped and pulled me to my feet, kissing me with gratitude. His eyes told me he wanted my pussy, wanted to make me come, and I sighed at how perfect this man was.
So I was surprised when he pulled his pants up and fastened the button. He must’ve seen the question in my expression, or maybe the disappointment, because he laughed silently. With a finger to his lips, he took my hand and led me to his bedroom.
“Oh,” I whispered, understanding now.
“So, it’s not just men who have trouble with reason when we’re driven by sex after all,” he teased, closing the door.
I chuckled. “Don’t talk. Just fuck me.” I surprised myself with my boldness, the courageous dirty talk. It meant I was as comfortable as I ever would be with him, and it made me happy to realize it. I grabbed at his t-shirt and pulled him toward me, eager to show him what I was suddenly feeling.
He didn’t object when I led him backward to the bed and pushed him down. He just stripped his shirt and threw it down. I did the same with mine and bent to peel off my jeans. Slowing down, I attempted to taunt him, stripping methodically, but I couldn’t hold out. I cut it short and dropped my panties in record time, climbing on top of him and trailing my nipples over his skin. He made a low sound as he pulled me up for a kiss, but I pushed his hands away.
“No, baby,” I purred. “Tonight, I do what I want.”
He dropped his head back on the mattress, a big grin telling me he welcomed the idea. I trailed my body over his, heading back down and pulling his jeans off, and then his boxers. We were both naked, hot skin and flushed bodies pressed together, and I was especially proud of myself for playing the slutty role comfortably.
Slowly, I crawled over him, pressing against his erection and stealing a short, invasive kiss. I left him wanting more, and that was just how I liked it. With calculated motions, I ran my palms over his body, enjoying his reaction to me. Eyes closed and breathing heavily, he gave me free rein. I sucked his nipples, nibbled his jaw, kissed his hard stomach, and each move had him grunting and contracting his muscles convulsively. As I slid lower, he attempted to thrust his cock upward, but he only managed to position it perfectly between my breasts.
I pressed them together with a mischievous grin, rubbing my skin against his. The sensation snapped his eyes open, and he watched with avid desire. He made testosterone-driven noises, fighting the urge to overpower me or maybe to just come, and I kissed the tip of his cock in thanks for his tight control. Pre-cum wet and warmed my lips, and I licked it off. He pulled me up to kiss me, but I bit him. He flinched, and I said, “Bad boy!”, making him whimper.
I straddled him, my legs on either side of his waist, and I thought to make the most of my wantonness tonight. I stood on the bed, then knelt over his face, looking at him as I lowered my pussy above his mouth. He licked his lips in anticipation.
I felt his lips move over me, and I quivered. I couldn’t help but grind my pelvis against the most perverted kiss imaginable, and he brought a hand to my ass, helping himself with the other. He lapped expertly along my slit, tasting the moisture like a starving man, and his finger snaked inside intermittently, intent on bringing me to the edge of climax. My knees weakened, strained by pleasure and pressure, and Dawson had to support my hips with both hands to continue his indulgence in my core. His tongue penetrated deep and fast, and I couldn’t hold on any longer. I came furiously on his tongue, a sharp scream escaping my mouth.
I lowered my ass to his chest, taking a moment to catch my breath, and he chuckled, enjoying how good I felt. I was spent. “Am I heavy?” I asked, concerned I might be compressing his ribs or suffocating his lungs.
“Maybe a little,” he said, a flicker of a joke dancing in his eyes.
I gasped dramatically. “Are you calling me fat?”
He laughed. “Gracious no! You’re light as a feather.”
I playfully slapped his shoulder and moved to the side. “Well, I guess you don’t get to enjoy the rest of the evening,” I threatened, lying next to him with finality in my voice.
“No! I take it back!” he insisted, wrapping his thick arms around me and kissing me passionately.
“I guess that’ll do,” I sighed, and when he let go, I pushed him to his back again. He watched with interest as I climbed atop him, lower now, and hovered over his cock. He slapped my pussy with it, and I gasped, taken by surprise, and then I giggled. My cheeks heated in a flush, but I didn’t want him to have the upper hand tonight. I took hold of his cock and impaled myself slowly.
I felt every inch of him penetrating me as I pushed down, my inner walls clenching from my first orgasm. He focused on the space between us as it narrowed and growled as I picked up the pace when I had him enveloped halfway. I dropped my hips and took him in fully, causing shockwaves of pleasure as he went deep, reaching spots that had never come to life before. I moved y hips in circular motions, not for pleasure but to fit him better. He didn’t thrust, waiting for me to accommodate his size, and then I bent to kiss him. I slid up and down slowly, playing with his lips as I closed in on them, nibbling his nipples as I pushed back to take him in.
He grabbed my thighs, mesmerized by my rhythm and wanting more. I rose to give it to him, felt him stretching me, but there was no discomfort as I bounced, feeling every bit of his length. He licked his lips and trailed his hands higher up my legs. I offered him a full show, letting my tits bounce wildly, sitting erect and whimperin
g eagerly as I quickened my rhythm. I lifted a hand from his stomach and fondled my breasts, and he followed my lead. I hoped he wouldn’t push into me harder, not sure I couldn’t handle anymore.
I didn’t have time to think on it. He finally clutched my hips and drove into me, pulling me down hard, and it sent a sharp pain through my body that ended in a release of fireworks. I couldn’t see straight as he rammed into me, faster and harder. I let gravity hold me down, his thrusts so strong they bounced me up effortlessly.
The searing pain as I felt him almost in my stomach was trumped only by the pleasure. I let my head fall back as the waves of climax slammed into me, and it spun as my breathing failed. The orgasm was stronger than I’d ever had, and I was in the midst of it when he came. I welcomed his seed as his hips ceased to move, locking him in deep as he filled me. But I felt the need to move and clench, my stomach trembling with the effort and the need.
He growled, his cock sensitive to my every move, and new, thunderous waves of ecstasy washed over me. It was the first time I had experienced this sort of multiple orgasm, and burning tension made my eyes pop at the realization that it was possible. My lungs seized, and my skin stung like I’d been whipped. I suspected tears ran down my face, but I couldn’t feel them through the heat of my explosion.
When the pressure in my chest simmered down, I took in deep, uneven gulps of air. I gazed down at Dawson to find him watching me in fascination, his mouth half open and his hands still on my hips. I met his eyes, searching for an anchor to pull me back to earth. My breathing and movement calmed as I found control, and I realized my nails were buried so deep in his abdomen I had tissue under them.
He said nothing, too stunned to speak. He just hugged my tired body as I collapsed on top of him, and I dozed for a couple of minutes. Still unable to move normally, I slid to the side, searching for his eyes. He kissed me tenderly, caressing my breasts, my back, the swell of my ass. “That was beautiful, baby,” he whispered at last, consumed with gratitude. “I’ve never seen you like that. You looked…like you were in another dimension.”
I laughed softly, tracing my fingers through his chest hair. “I think I was. I’ve never felt anything like it.” My voice was weak but filled with my happiness.
“I want to see more of that,” he said, kissing my nose. “You think you can do it again?”
“Really?” He nodded, and I saw how my pleasure fed his, giving him everything he needed. I thought about it. “I don’t know. You have to participate, too. We just have to try more, see if it works.” My voice was clearer, my strength returning.
He chuckled. “Maybe I’ll swing by your place more often this week.”
“Why don’t I stay here for the week? And the next one. And the next…” I suggested shyly.
“We’ve talked about this,” he answered, his whole demeanor changing in a split second as he pulled back. He grew defensive, like he concealed something terrible.
I scowled. “No, we haven’t talked about this. We haven’t even mentioned it. More like I let you take the lead and never questioned your motives. I don’t see how things could be worse if we lived together. I already deal with neighbors gossiping behind my back. And a move like this could change how I managed my job, too. The school can’t forbid me from living with my boyfriend. Maybe they would move Ginger to another class, but we could manage it. What arguments do you have?”
The magic was broken, and I was sincerely deflated by his attitude. Being kept so blatantly in the dark and distant made me feel unimportant. Like I wasn’t worthy of complete trust.
He frowned. “I can’t talk about this. I asked you to trust me. Can’t you see I’m trying to make the best of a shitty situation?” He gazed up at the ceiling, searching for words, but he gave up. “I don’t like things coming between us,” he concluded and tried to touch my shoulder.
I wasn’t done and rose from the bed. “I don’t, either. I’ll sleep with Ginger tonight. Maybe we can use the distance. It’s not like my presence in your bed makes any difference, since I spend such little time here.” I grabbed his bathrobe and left the room.
I heard him beg, “Mari, please! Why are you being like this?”
But I didn’t turn around. The tears already escaped.
In Ginger’s room, I lay beside her, and she shifted to hold me. I smiled at her peaceful face, hoping I would forever have her close. But then, how could I keep doing this? Where were her father and I headed?
Snuggling against her, I could still feel Dawson inside me, his scent invading my nostrils. But I had never felt so alone. I fell asleep with tears in my eyes, soaking Ginger’s Disney pillow with my bitterness.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
I woke later than I wanted, so I gently nudged Ginger and told her to get ready for school. She seemed pleased with the fact that I spent the night with her and complied without comment. I rose from the bed and tiptoed to Dawson’s room. He still slept, and I fought the urge to touch him. I gathered my clothes and took a quick shower before searching for Ginger. She was dressing.
“Let’s hurry, baby. We’re running late. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Mommy. I’ll be ready in a minute.”
My insides warmed, melting all the negative energy from the previous night. “I suppose I could spare a minute to make some breakfast,” I offered, checking my watch.
Tummies full, we carefully snuck out and stopped by my house fifteen minutes later. I needed my bag and all the papers for today. As I fumbled in my purse for the house keys, one of my neighbors passed with her tiny dog. I nodded a silent good morning, but she turned away, nose in the air, like she wouldn’t acknowledge someone like me. Blood rushed to my face, and I wanted the ground to swallow me. All I could do was run into my living room, grab what I needed hurriedly, and get back to the car to drive off.
The humiliation of being so blatantly dismissed didn’t lessen on the way to work. It hadn’t even cooled as I stepped out of the car. I took Ginger’s hand and walked toward the school, my eyes fixed on the ground. I could barely reply to kids and colleagues greeting me.
I dropped Ginger at the classroom and went for coffee, hoping it would bring me some strength. But my luck failed as I ran into Miss White, the school nurse, who was also the principal’s unofficial right hand. “So, are teachers at this school performing babysitter duties now, too?” she asked in an uppity, chain-smoker rasp.
I blinked at the plump woman, struck by her over rudeness. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
She shrugged. “Oh, well, a person has to do what’s necessary in this tough economy, I guess. How much does Mr. Holt pay you?” Her tone insinuated something else entirely, and humiliation washed over me anew. She smirked. “Don’t worry, hon. You can tell me. I don’t need to steal your side job.”
Now, the blatant innuendo pissed me off. “What are you saying? Are you insinuating that I’m sleeping with Ginger’s father for money? Prostituting myself?”
She hissed sharply, not expecting me to voice the matter. “Oh, that’s preposterous. How could you even accuse…” she started, playing the victim.
I cut her off. “What I do in my free time is none of your business, and it’s especially not your place to imply something so degrading. From a woman of your position, I would’ve expected better,” I threw at her venomously. I left without any coffee.
During the morning’s first lessons, I could hardly concentrate on anything around me. I felt more and more drained, like something sucked my energy or a faulty wire shorted the circuit inside me. I fought through until recess, and I was startled as I sat at my desk by the door opening hastily, the principal sticking his head in. “Oh, I thought there was a teacher in here,” he said, shaking his head and leaving as fast as he came.
I stared at the closed door, gaping, my brain incapable of processing the incident. Then it hit me.
Tears burned my eyes, and I blinked to stop them as I stood, almost wobbling to the door. The frustration rising
inside caused physical pain, and I I knew I couldn’t battle it long. I looked around to see if he was still watching me, but I focused too hard on not crying, causing my vision to blur. I almost bumped into some of the older kids as I ran the last few feet to the restrooms. I locked myself in a stall and let the onslaught begin, crying my sockets out.
The tears fell on the dirty floor, an unsuccessful attempt at washing away my mortification and hopelessness. My job, the pleasure I took in it, had been tarnished in the most painful way. With one remark, the principal had marginalized me as less than a teacher in his eyes. I fumbled with the tissue paper so harshly it turned to paper snow around my feet.
It took several minutes to settle down, and I looked around to clear my head and get presentable. I stepped out of the stall and moved to the sink. As I looked up and saw myself in the mirror, I cringed. My fair complexion was blotched with ugly red, my lips inflamed, eyes congested and swollen, and my ponytail had slipped low. I suddenly felt the need to wail, to break the glass and destroy the miserable image.
