by Gabi Moore
“I …I haven’t been able to get your cock out of my mine…” she breathed and I kissed her hard for saying so.
“Oh yeah? So …what else do you want?”
She sighed and giggled. “I don’t know, fuck, I’m just done making decisions,” she said and kissed me again.
I grabbed her firmly and lifted her onto my lap. In the darkness we fumbled till she sat straddling square over my lap, her glorious hair hanging down like a veil around us, her deliciously warm crotch pressing down lightly onto me and it was all I could do to not lose my mind at this alone. I reached up and stroked her cheekbones, and her delicate chin, then pulled her down into another deep kiss.
She pulled back in surprise and looked at me, then down into my lap.
“Is that…?”
I grinned devilishly and ground my hips up to meet hers in response. She bit her lip, a wild look in her eyes.
“See, no wonder I’m scared of you!” she said.
I loved how neatly her little waist fit into both my outstretched hands. How light and quick she felt on top of me, even with nearly all her weight perched up there.
I stroked long, voracious hands all the way down the length of her and felt her body tighten and roll under my touch. My fingers came to that bit of white fluff on her thigh.
“This thing,” I teased, sliding my finger under the elastic and pulling it back so it came snapping down again, “this thing has got to go.”
She flopped back onto the dashboard, legs splayed wide, and extended her leg out long, toes pointed, the dress gathering at her hips.
“Then get rid of it,” she said.
I thought about peeling it off slowly. I thought about pulling it off with my teeth and burying my head close to that heady soap and skin smell I remembered so clearly from the time before. But I didn’t do that. Instead, I reached out, took the thing in my hands and tore, hard. The flimsy fabric ripped in two, beads flying, and I tossed it aside.
Her hands went up to cover her mouth as she howled in laughter.
“I can’t believe you did that!” she squealed.
“Yeah well, you said you didn’t like any of your old clothes…”
The look in her eyes went dark and naughty.
“Now tear something else,” she whispered.
I gave her a smoldering look and lunged at her, gripping the collar of her dress and yanking hard down in one brutal movement, ripping straight down the front of the cotton to reveal her heaving, bare chest and stomach underneath. She shrieked with laughter.
“I can’t believe—”
“What else should I tear?”
She was already shrugging the remains of her dress off and revealing soft, lily-white arms and two twin swells on her collarbones that made me feel strange just to look at. Her laugh was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. I took her smiling face in my hands and kissed it. I wanted to always make her this happy.
“Now you,” she said, and soon she had peeled off all my clothing, one awkward piece at a time, hands and knees bumping the car door, both of us giggling like horny teenagers. She went quieter and quieter and then paused, her little hands splayed on my naked chest, staring down at my rock-hard cock.
“You know, when I first met you, I just had a feeling you were going to hurt me.” She gave me a cheeky smile. She was hovering above me now, her plump little pussy even juicer than I remember and so soft and hot against me I nearly broke my back arching up my hips towards her. Like she was hypnotized, she slowly slid herself down and then up my length, generously dousing me in that sweet honey of hers, till I thought I’d go crazy.
She was changing before my eyes. The little mischievous glint in her eyes became fully brazen, and her hips were moving more quickly. I groaned and held her there in my lap, hands on her waist.
“Yeah, it’s going to hurt,” I said, breath hot in her ear. “But I’m only ever going to hurt you just exactly how you like it.” At this she moaned and squirmed.
I slid my hand over her taut belly and stroked slow circles there, landing my thumb at her opening, then pressed down and gently stroked tiny, insistent swirls over her ripe little clit. Her body went limp as she relaxed into it. She lowered her lips more and put her full, wet weight on my cock, and together we moved like this, all breath and whimper and tiny, tiny movements that the whole world suddenly seemed hinged on.
My fingers were soon drenched, as was my stomach. I loved how fucking wet she got. I momentarily regretted that we weren’t in the studio. That I couldn’t cuff her. Tie her. That I couldn’t watch the pink of my whip left behind on her ass cheeks…
“I want it to hurt,” she said and flopped down onto my chest, her hair cocooning us.
I growled and sunk my fingers deeper into the flesh at her waist. She didn’t need to tell me twice. I was aching for her. Both hands on her inner thighs I pressed her open even further, then touched the head of my cock against her little wet hole. My hips shuddering, I guided my way into her, her snug body stretching around me, till she gasped out and held out a hand to halt me.
“Holy shit…” she breathed, her eyes half-closed and mouth hanging open. “Holy shit that’s a lot… that’s…”
I adored the feeling of her little pussy fluttering and tightening all around me. Screw it, I didn’t need any cuffs or ropes or props. This was enough. Every inch I slid inside her told her exactly who was in charge. Slowly, in silence, I eased her onto the next inch, and the next. She exhaled loudly. Her face was beautiful, wincing up in delicious pain, her eyes squeezed closed as she tried to adjust to being opened up so wide. To being dominated.
“That’s …only halfway,” I teased.
She looked down and her eyes widened.
“Oh god…”
I gripped the hair at the base of neck in my fist, then pulled her quivering body down, further down onto my cock, one delicious breath at a time. She went limp in my arms, her head falling back easily. She groaned low and long as I ploughed into her right to the base, so deep inside that her little pink pussy lips kissed against the flat of my belly. I bounced inside her and felt her entire body recoil from the sensation.
I could feel her excitement. Her body twitched and rolled in waves around me. The fit was tight enough that I felt I could come, just like this, just being so far inside her. From the delirious look on her face, I knew that she was close to coming too. Well, for the first time, that is.
I leaned in to kiss her softly folded belly, her nipples, but she was out of it. Her head was loose and she was somewhere far, in a reverie.
“I’ve never …I’ve never…” she muttered.
She didn’t need to finish. I knew exactly what she was saying. Her body was telling me right that instant. I would have loved nothing more than to grab both her wrists in my hands right then, pin her down and fuck her savagely until she couldn’t see straight. But I could tell how intense it was for her. I could tell how overwhelming it was to have such an immense beast crammed in right to the hilt, and what can I say, I felt bad for her.
So instead I moved very, very gently. I flexed hard, making my cock bounce inside her, and held her close to feel her reaction. I swear to god she was nearly purring.
“You like that, huh…?” I said quietly, as she shuddered around me, and then I bounced again. She was loving it. Just as she began to moan I pressed deeper into her, driving the full strength of my hips up in her little body, pressing her wide open.
She cried out.
“Does that feel good? Hm? Shhh…”
“I’m going to…” she said, nestling into the crook of my neck.
“Do it. Fucking do it. Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” I whispered.
She screamed as she came. From somewhere deep inside her, her body pulsed once, hard, and then again and then again. But I was holding her down. I was filling her up. She couldn’t go anywhere. She could only stay, right there with me, and come with me still inside her. I gripped hard on her shoulders and pulled her down.
&nbs
p; “Shhh… shh …now come let’s do another.”
The sounds she made were indescribable.
She cried out as I pulled the full, glistening length of my cock out of her, and perched herself high up on her haunches, her pretty cheeks now glowing with sweat. Swollen head still tucked inside her, I pulled her back down again, so slowly it took us nearly a dozen breaths to travel an inch, then another to go the next inch…
Almost instantly she was fired up again. I could feel that she was ready for more. Could feel how badly she wanted me. Her warm, wet cunt gave less resistance now, and I swear I could still feel the faint convulsions of her last orgasm. This time, her hands clutched eagerly at my biceps as I slid in. She was warming up.
And so we went like this. Fucking in slow motion. It was enough just to be in her. And judging by the way her toes curled and clenched, it was enough for her just to feel it all being slowly stuffed inside. When I was nearly all the way inside again, in that warm, gorgeous hole, I saw her twitching and tightening up again.
“Ready for another?” I said, but no sooner had I spoken had she started to scream again.
I watched in wonder as she came, again, so hard I could feel her clenching down on me. I grunted and thrust up hard into her, and after a moment she flopped down onto me again, sweat in beads in her hair, face flushed and a look of pure bliss on her face. I couldn’t believe it, but she felt even more swollen inside, even more open and hungry for me. Just the thought sent lightning bolts through me and before I could stop myself I was coming hard, too, squirting hot shots of cum deep inside her body, crying out as I filled her with every last drop I had.
“Again,” she said, with me still buried in her.
She was like magic in my lap. The more she orgasmed the more she seemed to want. To my surprise, I was rock hard again. That had never happened before. I pulled out again, watched her face contort briefly, and then, head still in her, I started again, guiding myself slowly, slowly, slowly into her body, both of us so sensitized we seemed to respond to even one another’s breath, to the slightest movements we made.
I don’t know how long we went like this. We clasped each other tightly, and in silence I slowly, slowly, slowly packed myself into her, each fraction of an inch pushing her closer, filling her to the brim with the most delightful pressure, so much so that by the time I was all the way in, she came again. And so did I. And then I’d slide out again.
I lost track of the time. I only knew that it was dark, that her car had misted up with our breath, and that every muscle in my body ached. I only felt the cum pooling up somewhere inside her, and the unbelievable heat of her on top of me.
I don’t know how many times it had been when we finally collapsed for the last time on one another. But I knew that I had never experienced anything like it in my life. Each stroke, an orgasm. It was like a dream. I was swollen tight inside her she could do nothing for a moment but lay on top of me and pant until her breath became more regular.
I eventually softened enough and she pulled off of me. It nearly hurt, to be outside of her. Like it was wrong, somehow, like I missed her body already.
With a goofy smile, she backed up and laid herself awkwardly in front of me, wedged between the glass and the dashboard. One knee raised to her chest and the other down long, she showed off her pert, pretty ass.
I then saw something that I would never forget.
She was filled. Completely filled with cum. I stroked her ass cheeks, not believing how exquisitely open she now was. It was like her body was a cup, and inside the cup was everything I had given her, white and perfectly contained inside her. It was like a miracle. I kissed her knee and smiled at her.
Eventually, her weight shifted and she sent a long, sticky stream of white out and over her thighs.
“Oh crap!” she said, and scrambled to get up and stop from spilling everywhere.
“Messy business,” she said, all flustered, and grabbed at her torn dress to mop things up and smile sheepishly at me.
“I think I love you,” I blurted.
She dropped the torn dress on the seat and laughed and laughed.
“Mark, what the fuck just happened?”
“I don’t know, but I want to do it again.”
Chapter Seventeen – Kat
And we did do it again.
I had been a dry, dead-looking chrysalis all my life and now a great, big, juicy butterfly was unfolding from deep somewhere inside me. My body hurried along and my mind staggered behind and tried to keep up. I was like a nun waking up in the body of a sex-fiend. I was like a superhero discovering her newfound powers in a movie montage, wide-eyed at all the new things her body could do.
It was as though nothing I had done till now even counted as sex. With him, I never needed any foreplay. None. It was as though just knowing him, just being aware that he existed at all was the foreplay, and even the shadow of a thought about him had me soaking wet all day, so that when we finally did meet up, I fell into his arms like someone who’d been waiting for hours for release.
My body was always frenzied with him, always ripe and bursting and impatient. It was like discovering a never-ending river of orgasms: pulling one out from the well just meant another one came gushing into its place. And then another. And another.
I suddenly hated any item of clothing that constricted or held me in. I wanted loose, flowing robes and nothing to clutter my movement. My high heels suddenly seemed worthless, when the ground felt so good underneath my feet. Everything in my life looked cheap and clunky and excessive. And so I threw it all away. One bin bag after the other, my home emptied out. And with every meeting with him, I emptied out too. There could never be enough room to contain all the bliss he had to pour into me.
“I’m just shocked by this sudden change of heart,” she said, and gave me a weak smile.
“There’s nothing sudden about it. It’s been a long time coming.”
“But you’re …you’re like the most principled person I know, Kat. I thought this work was important to you.”
And there it was. I knew my manager would have a hard time swallowing my resignation, and part of me knew that yes, she’d pull the guilt card on me. I just hadn’t expected her to be so blatant about it.
“I still am principled. And this work still is important,” I said, choosing my words carefully. The slatted blinds in her office had been drawn but I swear I could feel the rest of the office eavesdropping just outside the window. “But it’s not my work anymore.”
She gave me a strange look.
“Is it the salary? Let’s be frank about--”
“It’s not the salary.”
“Then what?”
I could see the frustration in her eyes. I knew that keeping this center afloat was a daily miracle, and I knew that she’d have trouble finding someone willing to do for this place what I had done for the last five years. I hated to put her through the ordeal of finding someone else… but I was done.
What could I tell her? Why was I really leaving? Could I possibly mention that I had undergone a transformation this last month that had turned me inside out? That I had experienced a moment of true clarity, and felt like I had just for a moment touched something divine, and now, looking at everything my life was, none of it could possibly satisfy me anymore? That I needed to kill everything I used to be and start over again? That I was changed and I would never, ever, ever go back to the person I was before?
“Please don’t take offense. It’s not the salary. You know I’ve enjoyed working here. But …I need to leave. I need to move onto the next thing.”
“You have something else lined up?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
She lifted and eyebrow at me and then smiled.
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with the old Kat?”
I smiled wryly and blushed.
“The old Kat’s dead and buried.”
She nodded her head, shrugged at me and then got up, extending
her hand for me to shake.
“It took me around five years before I burnt out, too, you know. It’s OK if you need to take a break. Stay away as long as you want. But just tell me you’ll come back, though? Please?” She held my hand firmly in hers and pinned me with her gaze. I smiled and pulled myself free.
“I’m not burnt out. I feel better than ever. But thank you.”
I left her office with a thrilling sense of triumph. I was crazy to leave without another job in the pipeline. But if I didn’t want to jump from one marriage to another, why would I want to jump from one job to another? I had never asked myself whether this – any of this – was what I really wanted. And if I didn’t ask myself that now, then when would I?
The answer was no. I didn’t want Anthony. I didn’t want my boring, stifling job. I didn’t want my old, constricting clothing. I didn’t want another kid. I didn’t want to buy grocery store wedding magazines and pretend like any of that meant anything to me. I didn’t want a husband. I didn’t want a boss. I didn’t want an ordinary life. Not anymore.
On my walk back to my desk, he messaged me.
Mark: It’s all set up. You still OK with everything?
I simply texted back a long, ridiculous string of emojis and hearts.
Mark: Good. Very good. You have the address. I’m excited.
I sent another emoji-filled message, this one with more hearts.
I made a few phone calls when I got back to my desk and then glanced at the clock. I was due to meet up with the girls in a half hour. Annie had been promoted and wanted to throw a little thing for the group, and so we’d meet at our regular bar and have a chat and then afterwards …but I was too excited to think about that now. I didn’t know if I was ready for it yet, but it was going to happen, one way or another. Weird parts of me were still stuck in the chrysalis. If what I was going to do tonight with Mark didn’t finally release me from those last threads of my old life, I don’t know what would.
Annie, Kara and Lily were all seated and waiting for me, already one drink in from the look of things.
