by Gabi Moore
Still jammed in her, head still spinning, I linked my arms round her waist and planted dazed and dizzy kisses along her back and neck. She merely hung her head down low, the roots of her long hair wet and dark from sweat, the ends tangled and wild. It must have been a full minute before her body stopped heaving under mine, and the little ripples and twitches inside her body stopped and her breathing slowed and came back to normal.
I peeled myself off of her and knelt back on my haunches.
I was speechless.
She turned to look at me – the most beautiful I’d ever seen her, with buttery eyes and wild damp hair flowing everywhere and her lower lip wet and parted – and burst out laughing. She looked down at the wet patch on the floor. Then up at me, then to my still hard dick.
“I think you… I think you broke me,” she laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh as well.
“I’ve never …do you …have you done that before?” I said. I had never seen a woman orgasm so hard before in my life. She looked as puzzled as I did.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I can barely even remember who I am right now!” and giggled so sweetly I couldn’t help but lean forward and embrace her.
“Didn’t I tell you I could be rough?” I said in my best stud voice. I felt her breasts jiggle in my arms as she laughed.
“Oh well, I’ve learned my lesson now, I’ll never doubt you again,” she said and we both collapsed together laughing, lying side by side, a little giddy.
I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for my heartbeat to calm down. At the edge of my vision I saw a cat slink along a coffee table and then trotting off out of sight. The ceiling was in rough shape, and needed some work. I hated to think of her getting up there to change dusty light bulbs.
“Zack?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay the night?”
“OK.”
Chapter 13 - Madeleine
Some animals are easy. They take quickly to humans and don’t fuss much and will tilt their heads to let you push the needle into the flesh of their necks, knowing somewhere in their quiet animal minds that it will help them somehow.
Some animals are difficult. They kick and scream and bite and hiss, and just when you think you’ve won them over, they scratch up your skin and slip your grasp, making you chase them all over again.
Maisy was one of the easy ones.
That’s partly why it was her I scooped up one sunny Saturday morning to give to Zack when he asked to help with my crazy menagerie. Maisy was a frail white and brown kitten, all heartbeat and bones and eyes, but she melted easily into anyone’s grasp, purring for whoever picked her up and dutifully eating whatever you gave her as though she didn’t know the difference between medicine and food.
“Like this?” he asked me.
Something twanged in my heart to see his big, strong hands cupped lightly around little Maisy, and they both stared back at me with wide eyes.
“Am I holding her right?” he said again. To his credit, Maisy did give the impression that she’d disappear into a puff of smoke if you held her too hard.
“What do you think, Maisy?” I said and leaned forward, placing my ear next to her whiskered face. “Yup, purring like a diesel engine, I think she’s happy,” I said. He beamed and stroked the pad of his thumb against her little head, and her eyes narrowed in pleasure.
“Ready to give her the medicine?”
“Yeah, let’s do it! Maisy says she wants some of the good stuff, please,” he said laughing, and lifting her to his own ear.
These days, Zack took to hanging around my house shirtless. At first I didn’t know what to make of it but now, seeing all six-foot of him standing in my kitchen with a tiny kitten pressed to his bare chest, I didn’t seem to mind so much.
I opened a cupboard and pulled out her formula, took a large plastic syringe from the drawer and then sucked up the correct dosage for her. She had been abandoned as a kitten and this medicine would go some way to replacing the nourishment she would have gotten from her mother. I handed the syringe to him and he took it expertly in his other hand, all of Maisy curled up cutely in his other hand, like a lint ball that had suddenly sprouted eyes.
“Just gently put the end in her mouth,” I instructed him. “Not there, in the corner of her mouth, and squeeze very gently and very slowly. Just like that! She’ll lap it up.”
Little Maisy, sweetheart that she was, tilted back her head and obediently swallowed her medicine, her little muzzle peeling back off her tiny canine fangs.
With supreme focus, Zack depressed the syringe and sent the liquid slowly into her mouth, and all at once her little throat began to pulse up and down as she swallowed. He flashed his gaze up at me and then quickly back down to the task at hand.
“She’s doing it! She’s eating it up,” he said with glee. If he weren’t so engrossed with his kitten, I would have pounced on him with how hot he looked at that moment.
Once the syringe was emptied, he set it carefully aside and then held her up at eye height to examine her, goofy grin all over his face. You can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats things that are smaller and weaker than him. And the way he was smiling and cooing at sweet Maisy turned my legs to jelly. With the end of his pinky finger he wiped her tiny cat mouth and then – God help me – then he gave her a dainty kiss right on her little snout. Completely full of food and with a face stuck in a permanent worried face, Maisy bobbed a little in his hand and mewed, once. He howled with laughter and put her down, and we both watched her scampering off, her little winder wound up for the next few hours at least.
He clapped his hands and looked up at me with twinkles in his eyes.
“So, what’s next? Am I ready to start birthing baby cows yet?” he asked and came over to wrap his arms round my waist.
“Not just yet!” I laughed, and leaned in for a kiss. “Besides, I’m sure I can put you to better use with something else…” I said, and tried to catch his eye.
“Oh?”
He hovered his gorgeous full lips above mine and his teasing breath lingered there for a moment, with that naughty smile I was beginning to know and love.
“Yes, if you want to make yourself useful, maybe you can stop talking for a second and kiss me instead.”
“Useful? Yes, ma’am…” he growled and closed his warm, delicious lips around mine for a long, lazy kiss. I staggered a little as the full weight of his body pressed against mine, and soon found my back pressed flat against the refrigerator. With hungry kisses, his tongue explored my mouth, my lips, my neck…
I was still zinging inside from our recent morning romp, my hair knotted up into a shaggy pile on top of my head, wearing his shirt and still pink in the face from all the things he had done to me before it was even 7 o’clock. I thumped my head back against the fridge and let him kiss me, and my poor body responded instantly, wet within seconds at the touch of his lips, opening up to him like I hadn’t already gone twelve rounds in the ring with that magnificent, merciless cock of his, just a few hours ago.
I liked what he did to me. When I was with him, I was no pushover. I bit him back. I bucked and moaned and thrashed and made as much noise as I damn well pleased. I made a mess. A big mess. And he let me.
Soon he was planting a trail of hot kisses down my collarbones and then he hoisted the shirt up and over my head, revealing my breasts, still warm with sex-smell and the cotton of his sweatshirt. He buried his head in my cleavage and I smiled down at him, hands resting on his head. Beatific. Like Our Lady of the Glorious Tits, smiling sweetly down at one of her worshippers.
“Spread your legs for me,” he mumbled, already nestling his way into that tender V between my legs.
I obeyed.
He was kneeling down in front of me now, and I could make out the strong muscles in his haunches as he positioned himself to kiss me. Not quite what I imagined when I suggested we head to the kitchen for something to eat, but again, I’d take it.
I sighed
loudly and let my head fall to the side.
How could this man, this man who was tenderly parting my pussy lips and sending the sweetest, most careful tongue onto my swollen clit, this man who was dabbing the curious tips of his finger against me, this man who knew how to melt my body inside with just a look… how could this man have ever hurt anyone? I would ask him about his past. I couldn’t avoid it forever. But later…
I wasn’t sure if I trusted him … or just wanted to trust him. All I knew was that my doubts and fears never lasted long. We were never more than a few hours away from some sizzling glance, some sweet, dirty whispers, some electrifying touch or a full out session in bed that left my head whirling and my body crackling like it had been hit by lightning.
I would ask him. I had to. But I would do it later. Right now all I could focus on was the delightful torment of his tongue flicking over that desperate ache, and the juice pouring out of me as he toyed expertly with that little nub, kissing and licking me to some sweet, quivering point.
I grasped at his wild, coily blonde hair and tried to pull him deeper, but he pulled back a little and looked up at me with a wicked smile.
“Now, Maddy, I’ll drown and die if you try pull another stunt like you did this morning,” he said in a graveled voice, then went back to work. A moan escaped my lips and I felt the cool metal of the fridge behind me against the goosebumps on my back.
“If you keep doing that, well, I can’t promise anything,” I breathed, and it was true. Still raw and turned on from this morning, I didn’t need much to get me right back to that sweet, sweet point of no return.
“Doing what my dear?” he asked, as though he were speaking directly to the slippery folds of my hopelessly turned on body. “This?” As he spoke, he licked the full, firm tip of his tongue once, all the way up against the length of my shuddering pussy, just exactly in the way he had recently learnt. A few more of those licks and I’d be a wild, quivering mess in no time.
“Yes, that,” I said and playfully slapped his bare shoulder.
“Yes ma’am.”
God I loved the way he said that, and I looked down to see his strong pecs and shoulders working as he placed his hands on my hips and pulled me deeper down onto him. My toes were shaking, barefoot on the kitchen floor. My loose bun was beginning to come undone.
“I won’t do this again,” he said, and with the word “this” he stroked his long tongue again all the way up, sending my body jerking a little.
“Naughty. I said don’t do that…” I muttered, my breath coming in gasps now as I tried to steady myself against the swelling waves of pleasure pulsing over me.
“What? I already told that you that I won’t do this…” A third stroke came over my swollen clit, and my hips jumped and jerked with the pump of pleasure it sent through me.
“You bastard,” I said, the edges of my hair coming loose now and hanging low over one side of my face.
The first time it happened was on the sofa. The first time we fucked, he has dug his thick, hard cock into me and forced out strange, new sensations, feelings that washed over me and melted me completely. He still liked to tease me about the carpet cleaner we needed to rent to get rid of the enormous mark on the rug the following day. The second time it happened was even more wickedly delicious than the first. He had thrown me down on the bed, hoisted both legs high up and held my ankles in one hand, split my pussy lips open and pounded me so hard I saw stars and squirted violently all over him.
The third time, he was making a game out of ‘breaking me’. He knew precisely which buttons to press, and which pulleys and levers to activate to open my floodgates and have me a drooling, bumbling muddle within 15 minutes. Since then, I had lost count of the times we had played this game with one another. He seemed to know exactly what to do to me. And all I knew was that I wanted more and more.
I thrust myself back into the surface of the fridge and tried to still my buzzing mind. But all at once I felt him sink one and then two fingers easily into my hungry little hole, driving them up into me right to the knuckles, so swiftly I couldn’t help but yelp with pleasure. But I couldn’t go anywhere except down, onto his fingers, and deeper into that delicious ecstasy. I was close now, so close, and I suddenly felt that familiar, watery bliss boiling inside me, threatening to break loose and drench us both.
He momentarily looked up to me and smiled at my sweetly tortured face.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.
“What?” I could scarcely contain myself. My knees started to shake.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, this time more firmly.
“I’m… I’m thinking of…” I started to say, and felt my face blush hard.
“Don’t be shy. Tell me. Fucking tell me,” he said again, this time jamming his thick fingers deeper into me, stroking my hot, twitching body towards its inevitable orgasm.
“I…” I squirmed against the fridge, thrashing my head side to side, clutching down hard on his shoulders.
“Say it.” His voice was dry and dark and deep and pushed me closer just as surely as his fingers did. My toes curled and clawed at the floor as the room started to spin.
“Say it!”
“I’m going to fucking come! I’m going to fucking come all over your face!” and the last thing I saw was the naked, knotted muscles in his bicep as he pulled my body down, hard, to stop me from bucking and jerking away from him. My eyes slammed closed and something from deep inside me swirled and spun and broke loose, and soon I was coming hard down on his fingers, trying to scream but my voice bubbling out in jagged rasps as I tried to breathe through each wave of a hot, juicy orgasm.
He yanked out his fingers and I exploded, my hips curling up and sending a huge stream of liquid spraying onto his chest and chin. Before my eyelids flittered closed I looked down to see his naughty face, smiling back up at me with a wild expression of astonishment.
He released me. I shuddered and cried out. Then with a long squelch my naked, sweaty back slid down the surface of the fridge door and I crumpled down into a heap on the floor, legs still convulsing. I heard his knees crack as he stood, his tall frame like a monolith over me. He had reached in deep somehow and found one single, glorious thread running all through me, a thread that started at my throat and ended at the little buzzing nub of my clit, and he had somehow pulled, and that thread came all undone, leaving me unseamed, orgasming so hard my stitches had come loose.
Eyes closed, I reached out for him and my hand touched his hard, hairy shins. I opened my eyes to see him standing tall over me, his turn now to look down at me. I smiled; relishing what was coming, and tried to stand up. He easily put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down again.
“No, you stay down there,” he mumbled, and then pulled down his pants.
Chapter 14 - Zack
Ben flicked his wrist and the fishing line glinted in the sunshine and went plinking into the pond in front of us. It was a fancy move, for a guy who never caught a damn thing.
The late afternoon sun was hazy and golden; a kind of aimless day that made you overlook the fact that time was passing. A man could forget he had a past at all, with the light falling on the water the way it was falling just then.
“It’s going to come and bite you in the ass is all I’m saying,” he said, chewing his lower lip.
Man did I hate fishing. To make things worse he had already told me that same line three times already.
“I know …but I feel like I missed my chance already, you know?
“At some point, buddy, it’s just lying. You’re just straight up lying to her.”
I hated it when he had a point. It was really inconvenient that a bonehead like my brother was right so often.
“She’s asked me why I went to prison, so I’ve never told her. I didn’t think much would come of the whole thing anyway, to be honest. I thought she’d run screaming on the first date. I didn’t expect us to hit it off so well.”
&nbs
p; “It’s gonna bite you in the ass, Zack. You need to tell her.”
“I wasn’t sure what we were even doing, you know? So I never went into detail. I’m not going to spill this big sob story to a woman I just met, you know? A woman I barely knew.”
“But you know her now.”
“I know. But that means it’s even harder to tell her.”
Ben chuckled under his breath. Not being completely honest with Maddy was eating me up inside. But the thought of telling her just how bad my past was felt even worse somehow.
“You two both deserve each other, I swear,” he said. “She’s the monkey who doesn’t see, and you’re the monkey who doesn’t tell. You’re honestly telling me you’ve never even looked Maggie up? Asked around about where she got to and what she’s doing?”
I shook my head.
If daggers could kill, Maggie would be a deadly assassin. She had let me know in no uncertain terms that she wanted me out of her life.
“I spent two years trying to forget about her, why would I go looking for her now? What would be the point?”
“Because maybe she’ll come looking for you?”
I watched my own line disappearing into the still water and frowned.
“How’s ma?” he said casually, realizing my patience was wearing thin.
“Ah, you know. Getting old.”
“I know, right?”
“She’s so forgetful these days. She used to be so sharp.”
“Tell me about it.”
“She’s taking care of that little kitten I got her.”
“Oh yeah? The one Maggie got her?”
“Dude. It’s Maddy.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said and caught my eye over the fishing line.
“Forget about it.”
“Hey, Zack?”
“What?”
“You should tell her.”
