by Melinda Minx
“Shit!” I say, panting for air. “We lost.”
“Nah,” a booming voice says from somewhere over my head. “Chuck there was our last man alive, and I definitely saw you hit him before he got to the beacon. You two bested us.”
I hear a slow, rhythmic clapping start from just above the ladder.
“You slow clapping, man?” someone asks.
“Come on,” he says, still clapping, “They played well. That deserves a slow clap.”
The other guys start clapping as they all enter the clearing, lit only by the beacon’s blue glow.
“We never got your names,” one of them says.
“Dominick,” Dominick says, standing next to me. “And this is Madrigal.”
“What happened to Maddie?” I ask when we’re back in the car.
He narrows his eyebrows at me and frowns.
“You called me Maddie, right before the match ended.”
“Do you want to get a room now, Madrigal?” he asks me.
He’s dodging my question, but I can’t risk souring the date over my name. I’d even started to like the way he calls me Madrigal. I’ve always hated my real name, but the way he uses it has been a turn-on.
Still... hearing him call me “Maddie” in the heat of the moment like that did something. It felt like he forgot that we had an arrangement. In that moment, he wasn’t just pretending for my request; he’d genuinely forgotten.
He drives us toward the city, and we eventually roll into a parking garage in a building that looks like luxury apartments.
“You live here?” I ask.
“Madrigal,” he says. “Do you want to shatter the illusion right now?”
I bite my lip. That means “no.” He doesn’t live here. Whoever employs him provided it to him for the duration of his time with me.
Still, I want to go home with him. Even if it’s not his real home.
He takes my hand and walks me toward the elevator. We go up to the thirty-fifth floor, and then the doors open into a hallway.
He walks me toward one of the doors, and unlocks it.
We step into something that looks more like a hotel room than a man’s living space. Everything is luxurious and immaculately decorated. There’s furniture, an open kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and a gorgeous view of the city.
But there are no “things.” No clutter, no shelves, no framed photos. Nothing about this space reminds me of Dominick, or even who I imagine Dominick to be.
I almost ask him, “Do you even sleep here?” I catch myself though, not wanting to further shatter the illusion of our real date.
“The bedroom is this way,” he says. “I imagine you don’t want to drink anything.”
I shake my head. He’s referring back to earlier, where he knew I only ever have one drink.
After running around in the woods, I could use a shower though. I’ve changed back into my clothes, but I feel kind of gross and sweaty.
“Do you mind if I use the shower?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “Do you mind if I join you?”
My face burns red as he presses me against the wall.
“No,” I say. “I don’t mind.”
He takes a loose strand of my hair into his hand and runs his fingers through it. “Madrigal, Madrigal, you’ve made so much progress. I still remember the shaking bundle of nerves I met at the coffee shop.”
I smile at him, but I shove him playfully. “You’re going to make fun of me? Right now?”
“I’m not making fun of you,” he says. “Were you not a frayed bundle of nerves when you first met me? Shaking and uncertain?”
I sigh. “Okay, yeah, I was.”
“Not that it didn’t appeal to me,” he says. “To bring this calm over you.”
He runs the back of his hand gently along my cheek.
“Not that I will take all the credit,” he says. “You put in real work.”
I put a finger to his lips. “Let's not shatter the illusion.”
He takes me by the hand into the bathroom. It’s huge and covered in marble. The shower has a large, frosted-glass door, which is open. I poke my head in.
“Woah, two shower heads,” I say, we can—
“We can get clean while we get dirty,” he says, a devious grin filling his face.
He begins to unbutton his shirt. I watch him rather than beginning to undress myself. This is probably the only chance I’ll get to watch him like this. It’s not that I don't enjoy him giving me orders, but this is like a small vacation from that. A blip in time that I want to savor.
I watch transfixed as his bare chest and abs are revealed. His abs are chiseled and hard, and his chest is broad and muscular.
He throws the shirt aside, and his impossibly wide shoulders reveal themselves. His bulging biceps draw my eyes as he pulls at his belt.
“You’re just going to watch?” He asks, laughing.
“Yes,” I say, no hint of humor in my voice.
He continues to undress, seemingly not bothered by my decision to watch him or by my overly serious answer.
He unbuttons his pants and pulls his right leg out. His leg is muscular and sculpted, and then I lock onto his cock.
It’s still covered by his boxers, but I can see the outline of it. It must be semi-hard already, because there’s no way a soft dick could be that big.
My eyes widen, and then I realize he’s moving toward me.
I tear my eyes off his dick and look up at him. He reaches out and puts two fingers on my collarbone, then they begin to slowly slide down my chest. “Keep watching me,” he says.
I look back down at his cock, and I see from the corner of my vision his fingers moving along my breasts, just on the edge of my cleavage.
As his hands massage my breasts, I see his cock begin to twitch beneath his boxers. It grows as his strong hands pull my breasts free of my bra and blouse. As my nipples harden from his touch, his cock goes rock hard.
HIs boxers tighten, his cock fighting against the cloth. I can see the clear outline of his head pressing up.
“Let it out,” I whisper, leaning back and sticking my chest out. “I want to see it.”
“Then let it out,” he hisses.
I reach down with impatience, and without touching his cock, I simply hook my fingers between his chiseled v-cut and the top of his boxers. I tug down, but his cock is so big and sticking out so far that they don’t come off. I pull more, and it just catches on his dick, pulling it down.
“Harder,” he says. “You won’t hurt me.”
I tug hard, and watch in awe as his thick cock pops up. It slaps hard against his abs, and then it springs back and forth a few times before settling back against his stomach.
“Jesus,” I whisper. “You’re huge.”
“What does it make you want to do?” he asks.
Without answering, I fall to my knees. He reluctantly lets go of my breasts as I fall down. My knees press against the cold marble, but I don’t care, because I have Dominick’s body to warm me.
I scoot toward him, locking onto his thick cock. His balls are clean shaven, and the rest of his hair is well trimmed. I take hold of him in my hand, and I realize I can barely close my fingers around his girth.
Maybe the secret to curing my infertility is just a big dick? I can’t imagine a cock this big failing to knock me up.
I squeeze him, and I feel his veins bulge and press against my skin.
“Mm,” he hums. “Madrigal, look at you.”
With growing impatience I open my mouth and press my full lips to his rod. I let the warmth flow to my lips, and then I press my tongue gently against him. I run my lips and tongue up his length while I cup his balls in my hand.
I work my way up his length slowly, leaving a light trail of saliva as I go. When my tongue and lips run across the lip of his head, he shudders and moans, and then I move faster, like a snake gaining speed.
I swallow him down, and I open my jaw as wide as I can manage.
I try to take him all down in one go, and his girth stretched my lips and cheeks. I cover my teeth with my lips and take him down deeper. Drool drips down past the corners of my mouth, and I start to suck.
“Fuck!” He shouts, and I feel his hips jerk, which presses him deeper into me.
I feel an urge to gag, so I pull my head back reflexively. I suck him as hard as I can, and then I swallow him down again.
I bob my head back and forth as I suck him. I feel the loose strand of hair he stroked earlier fall down across my cheek, but I’m not willing to move my hands. I’m squeezing his beautiful, muscular ass with one hand, and I’m playing with his balls in the other.
I suck him loud, slurping him down. I’d have felt ashamed of doing this before I met Dominick, but I use the exercise from earlier and imagine how he perceives it. He hears that loud slurping, and it makes him know how much I crave his cock. How much I want to taste him. I suck so hard that he can hear it, and that sends him over the edge.
“Madrigal,” he whispers as I blow him for all I’m worth.
It’s not like I can answer him with his cock going down my throat.
“I don’t mean to—agh—I don’t meant to shatter the illusion, but I decided I can’t cum until it’s inside you. I’ve been saving it for you. For your pussy.”
Jesus. Jesus. Could that be the absolute hottest thing anyone could ever say to me right now? Could there possibly be a bigger turn on?
I pull back, and my lips break suction with a loud pop. I taste his salty precum in my mouth, and some of it drips down the corner of my mouth.
I look up at him in astonishment. “Really?”
He nods.
“And I was going to make you cum in my mouth if I kept going, right?”
He nods again.
I realize that we’ve both forgotten the shower entirely. I like the smell of his sweat, and I don’t have the patience to shower now.
“Then fuck me,” I say. “I can’t wait any longer.”
He moves toward me like a lion on the hunt, and then he snatches me up off the ground. He carries me in his arms, and once I’m stable and have stopped giggling, he takes me out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom.
I see the bed as we enter the next room. The sheets are so neatly folded it looks like no one has ever even used the bed. He carries me to the edge, and then plops me down on my back.
He looks down at me with hunger.
“It will work better if you cum first,” he says.
“I want to cum all over your cock,” I say, out of breath and unable to wait another moment.
“You will,” he says, tugging my skirt and panties off at the same time, and then he grabs me by the heels and pulls my legs back.
Without warning he’s on me. His tongue presses against my outer lips, and he slurps loudly as he licks across me and tastes my juices.
I knew that this night would likely end up here, but I hadn’t expected to feel so much closer to Dominick by now. Before tonight, he’d been this giant, sexual presence. I’d been attracted to him—lusted after him. There had still been an emotional connection of sorts, but it was all tied up in his sexual energy.
Tonight I felt what he’s like as a man, and now that he’s making me cum again, knowing both of those sides of him strengthens everything. It paints a complete picture of him. One I want to frame and hang on my wall and never let go.
I gasp and moan as he works my pussy. His tongue runs up and down my wetness, and he taps and teases my clit every few moments. Just barely grazing it each time, but it’s enough to make me crazier and crazier each time he touches me there.
His hands run up and down my body, and I sense a hunger in him. He’s touching me just to touch me, not as a calculated move to remove my block, but rather an instinctual and animalistic urge to touch my body… to lay claim.
He squeezes my flesh as his tongue presses firmly against my swelling clit. My back arches up and my body shoots skyward. Dominick moves with me, never breaking contact with his tongue on my most sensitive place.
My head is thrown back and my eyes are closed, and suddenly I feel a finger slide inside of me. He licks my clit and runs his tongue along me in circles as his finger slides deeper and deeper. The penetration is exactly what I need, and I grunt and moan in response.
Another finger slides in, stretching me wider and making me absolutely crave his cock inside of me.
He begins to slide his fingers in and out, but I’m so wet that there’s no resistance aside from my natural tightness. The sensation is too much, and I start to thrash against him.
He grabs my hip with his free hand and pins me down flat, then thrusts faster and faster into me, going knuckle-deep each time.
My wetness becomes audible, and he starts to apply suction on my clit as his tongue flicks back and forth with furious speed.
“Ahh!” I scream, and my voice catches in my throat.
My hips begin gyrating involuntarily, and my inner walls clench and pulse around his fingers as they slide in and out of me.
My heart pounds so loud I hear it between my ears. I feel the blood pumping through me and burning at the very tips of my ears.
“God, Dominick!” I scream, “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”
And he doesn’t. He speeds up. He licks harder, and he fingers me deeper and more forcefully.
I squeeze my tits so hard it feels as if they’ll pop, digging my nails in, and the orgasm hits me so hard my eyes roll back into my head. When I look back down I see Dominick’s dark eyes looking up at me, studying each line of my face as I cum and scream for him.
I fall down flat on the bed. I continue to writhe and whine even though the orgasm is dying down. He slides his fingers in and out more and more slowly, and his tongue moves more gently along my clit.
I breathe gasping, hungry breaths. My chest and breasts heave up and down, and Dominick runs his hands gently up and down my body as if I were something precious.
He falls down next to me, and I feel his steely cock press hard against the soft flesh of my ass. I feel the throbbing heat of it digging into me.
“You cum so good,” he whispers softly into my ear, and then he bites my earlobe and runs his tongue along the soft cartilage.
“What would you normally do next?” I ask.
“I’d tie you up,” he whispers. “And fuck you.”
I lock eyes with him. Do I want him to tie me up?
“You’ve already tied me up,” I say.
We break eye contact. I don’t know why I said that, but it’s clear as soon as I say it that we both know exactly what I meant by that.
He sits back up, grabs my hips, and pulls. He flips me over so that I’m on my stomach, and he slaps my ass. Harder than just being playful.
I cry out, mostly in pain, but not totally.
“You want me to tie you down?” he rasps.
“I’ll be good,” I say, and to emphasize my point I pull my knees forward and stick my ass up for him.
I still feel the sting from when he spanked me, but then I feel his lips press against my ass cheek, and he kisses me with a small contact from his tongue.
“Good,” he says, pulling away.
I look over my shoulder and back at him. He’s on his knees and just behind me now. His thick cock is hard and just inches from my pussy. He grabs me by the hips, and then he thrusts his own hips forward.
I feel the tip of his cock rub against my pussy, and he slides it up and down along my outer lips. I’m still soaking wet from when I came, and I feel his cock dipping into my cum and sliding it around my skin.
“Put it in,” I say, looking back up at him with pleading eyes.
He just nods, and I feel an intense pressure. I look down and press my face into the pillow as his impossibly thick dick splits me in two.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re so tight, Madrigal.”
“You’re just so damn big,” I mutter into the pillow, voice muffled entirely.
> It feels like he’s barely in. I doubt even his head is entirely inside me. I try to loosen up, thinking suddenly about “the block.”
He presses deeper in, and there’s a sharp pang of pain, but then I feel my wetness surge as he plunges deeper inside. As his cock gets deeper in, my wetness helps it slide further in. I still feel intense pressure where his cock first enters and before it dips into my wetness, but the pleasure of him filling me up so good overpowers the pain.
Just when I think I’ve got a handle on him, he pushes in with a dominant thrust. Pain rips through me, but even as the tears well up in my eyes, a flood of wetness runs through me, and pleasure dances across my body, all starting from each square inch of skin where his cock makes contact with my inner walls.
My pussy tightens against him even as the pain surges, and he presses all the way in, until I feel his balls up against me. Then I realize that it’s not just my pussy that’s tightening; his cock is throbbing within me.
“God, Dominick,” I hiss.
Then I wonder, with sudden dread, what if Dominick isn’t even his real name? This apartment isn’t his, and the people who employ him seem to tightly control everything I learn about him. So why would they let him use his real name? What if even this date, this pretense of a real date, isn’t even real?
Then his cock slides out and pounds back into me. He pounds the doubt right out of me with his next few thrusts. If this isn’t real, what is?
He pounds me so hard that his hips slam against my ass. I feel it shake and jiggle each time he pounds deep into me. The sore skin from when he spanked me stings just enough to enhance the sensation.
“Spank me again,” I hear myself say.
I didn’t think I liked it when he spanked me, but now I crave the pain once again.
He hits me so hard and fast with his hand that he must have already been thinking about it. My request just triggered him to finally act on the temptation.
I yelp as the pain rocks through me, but the feeling of his cock stuffing me full is so good that it takes the true edge off the pain. Rather than feeling the part that hurts I instead just feel the sharp intensity. I feel the stinging hit me just hard enough to make my body release adrenaline and for my eyes to produce more tears, but the true unpleasantness of the pain is blocked out by all the endorphins flowing through me.
