When wrong feels so right

by Mia Ford

  And just as I came close to coming, he grabbed my ass with both hands, lifted my hips up higher and ravaged me with such intensity that my orgasm hit like a hurricane. Legs shaking, moans bordering on screams of pleasure, fingers pulling at his hair as my body seemed to stiffen and relax at the same time.

  “That was beautiful,” I whimpered to the empty room.

  But Kyle was there. In my mind, he was always there. I could see him looking up at me with a wide smile on his face, slowly crawling up my body until his eyes were only inches from mine, where our lips gently grazed each other’s, a forbidden kiss I wished could be real. I reached down between us, grabbed his cock gently in my hand and stroked it. Slowly. Passionately. Knowing that having him inside me would be more pleasurable than anything I could ever imagine.

  He kissed me. Traced his lips down my neck. Squeezed my breasts and hungrily sucked at my nipples. My hand moved faster, a part of me wanting him to do it already, to stick his cock inside me and give me the fuck of a lifetime. I played it out, kept my hand where it was, and just lost myself in what he was doing to my breasts.

  “Fuck me, Kyle,” I whispered. “Do it now, please, now!”

  He pushed inside me with one long thrust, his cock spreading my pussy wide, my breath catching in my throat. He pushed deeper, filling me up completely, my pussy squeezing down on him in an attempt to keep him inside forever. He began to move, slowly at first, his every inch sending bolts of electricity through my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, the heels of my feet pressed against his ass, pushing him back into me every time he pulled out.

  His pace quickened, his thrusts become deeper and faster, until he was pounding me for all his worth. I screamed in pleasure, lights flashing on and off in my head as he fucked me. His urgency turned me on even more, and I pulled him to me, hugging him and scratching at his back. The bed springs sang out in blissful harmony as we moved, and a part of me thought that he would fuck me so hard, the bed would collapse underneath us. He was good. Very good. Incredible, even. And I was hit with one orgasm after the other.

  “Fuck me, Kyle!” I screamed, and he was more than eager to comply. I had no idea how long we would go, but in my mind, it lasted all night. He would stop in the middle, giving me a chance to catch my breath, teasing me with his cock before ramming it inside me again. And it went on and on, as if there would be no end to the pleasures I was feeling. I bucked my hips up against him, took him in deeper when I could, begged him to fuck me harder and faster. In my head, he was always willing to give more, to do more.

  My last orgasm hit me so hard, I felt the world around me spin out of control. My head swirled, my eyes rolled back in their sockets, and my body shuddered. Waves of pleasure washed over me, embracing me in their warmth, the heat of my body forcing me to sweat into the sheets despite the ominous chill that lingered in the house. I felt incredible.

  When I had finally caught my breath, I slowly opened my eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning. The lights were out, the only illumination coming in through the window from the streetlights outside. My body was drenched in sweat, my breaths uneven and my heart pounding in my chest.

  I was gushing. My fingers were buried inside me, my panties now a wet mess I would have to change. I pulled my hand back, a quick shudder hitting me when my fingers grazed my clit, and I slowly allowed my body to relax. I closed my eyes again, allowing this short bout of bliss to envelope me completely before I knew I would have to get up and change.

  My cellphone rang, the shrillness scaring me and bringing me back to the real world a little too quickly. I rolled over and grabbed it.

  “Where the fuck are you?” Dennis screamed from the other line.

  “I’m sorry, I was–”

  “Save it!” Dennis interrupted. “Get your ass over here and pick me up. This asshole won’t give me my car keys.”

  He was drunk, his words slurring and forcing me to concentrate just to understand what he was saying. A part of me had wished he would actually find some slut at the bar and spend the night with her in a motel, away from me, leaving me to enjoy one peaceful night alone.

  “Did you hear what I fucking said?” he screamed, and I winced.

  “I’m on my way,” I whispered.

  “Hurry the fuck up!”

  He hung up. I sat in bed for a few seconds, my mind racing until tears began to flow down my face.

  I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t take another night of abuse. I knew exactly what would happen. I knew that, if the verbal abuse didn’t kill me on the drive back home, the physical one would be too much to bear. He was already angry, and it was typical Dennis to take that anger out on me. Picking him up meant delivering myself to a beating. Not picking him up would probably be worse.

  Then get the fuck out. Leave. He’s not coming home any time soon. There’s a window of opportunity here.

  I bit my lip, trying to control my sobs, and briefly glanced at the closet. In five minutes, Dennis was going to call me to make sure I was on my way. It would be another fifteen minutes before he called a cab, seething with anger on the ride back and ready to bash my skull in with his fists.

  I had less than half an hour.

  I hesitated for the briefest of moments, unsure of whether or not I should finally listen to the small voice in the back of my head. Then I quickly jumped out of bed, pulled my suitcase out of the closet, and began packing in a hurry.

  I had half an hour.

  Chapter 4: Andy

  Hannah showed up at my door just as expected. Early, impatient, and immediately scanning my apartment for signs of last night.

  She was like a bloodhound. Could smell pussy from a mile away, and always managed to call me out on my sexcapades. It didn’t matter if I had been fucking a girl last night, or a week before. She always knew, and to be frank, it scared me sometimes. There were nights I imagined Hannah standing by my bed while I slept, knife in hand, ready to cut off my cock. Why I had gotten myself involved with her in the first place was beyond me.

  Because she’s great in bed. And has the breasts of a Greek goddess.

  Both true, but not enough to make up for the Pandora’s Box of craziness that was lodged somewhere in that head of hers. The first time I had introduced her to Bobby, he had waited patiently until she excused herself to go to the bathroom, then turned to me and told me to get out while I still had all my body parts. I had laughed it off. In retrospect, I probably should have taken him much more seriously.

  “Where is she?” Hannah asked after a quick inspection of the living room. It had taken her only five minutes and one room to figure it out. I was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and almost spilling half of it.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “The hussy you were with last night.”

  I turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “What hussy?”

  Hannah pointed an angry finger at me. “Don’t start with me, Andy. I know you had someone here last night.”

  “You’re imagining things again,” I shot back, already beginning to fume in frustration. I shouldn’t have been acting this way. It was none of her fucking business who I brought home. We had agreed a long time ago that we wouldn’t be exclusive, but apparently, she had come to the crazy conclusion that the rule only applied to her. And I was playing along.

  “Stop treating me like I’m some nutcase,” Hannah hissed. “Just man up and tell me who she is. Another college student? Were you drilling holes in younger fields, Andy?”

  “Okay, first of all,” I said, turning around and shooting her an annoyed look, “where I drill holes is none of your fucking business. Second of all, you’re the one who wanted an open relationship, remember? It’s not like you’re fucking Mother Teresa, okay.”

  Hannah screamed in frustration and threw her purse at me, narrowly missing my head as it hit the cabinet behind me then fell on the coffee machine. I jumped back when it toppled off the counter and smashed into pieces on the floor, coffee spreading ev
erywhere.

  “What the fuck, Hannah?” I yelled.

  “You asshole!” she screamed at me, racing past the kitchen counter and throwing punches at me. “You fucking bastard! I do everything for you, and you don’t even have the respect to tell me you’re fucking other women!”

  I grabbed her wrists, turned her around and pulled her into an embrace that left little room for her to move. She fought my hold, reminding me that she was a lot stronger than she looked, but I kept her in place.

  “No one was here!” I yelled at her. “For fuck’s sake, just calm down!”

  “You’re a fucking liar, Andy!”

  “I said, calm down!”

  She struggled a little more, but eventually gave up completely and just stood there limp in my arms. After a few seconds of silence, her shoulders began to shake, and I could hear soft sobs escaping her lips. It wasn’t like Hannah to show weakness, and although she was crying now, she would do everything she could not to show it. I didn’t dare turn her around. She’d scratch my eyes out if I let her go.

  “Nobody was here,” I said, kissing her head. “I promise. Just you, baby.”

  She sobbed a little more, sniffed loudly, then nodded. “Let me go,” she whispered. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, still hesitant.

  “Let go, Andy,” she said. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have.”

  I believed her, so I let her go.

  She pushed away from me, hit me with her elbow for good measure, then walked back into the living room. She kicked off her shoes and began pulling her shirt off.

  “Woah, slow down,” I said.

  She stopped and turned to me, her shirt around her neck and giving me a full view of her beautiful breasts behind a lace, black bra. I felt myself start getting harder instantly.

  “I have to be at work in half an hour,” I said.

  She dropped the shirt and shot me an angry glare. “Since when did that stop you?”

  “Since the Chief’s started giving me crap after last night.”

  She frowned. “You’re a hero,” she said. “The great Andy Stetson.”

  “The Chief seems to think otherwise,” I smiled. “I think he used the word reckless and hotheaded a few times, too.”

  Hannah looked at me, her eyes boring into mine, trying to figure out if I was lying or not. The truth was, last night had taken me out of it, and if she did drag me to bed, she would tell instantly that my mind and body weren’t into it.

  Hannah clicked her tongue, pulled her shirt off and threw it onto the couch, and began unbuttoning her jeans as she made her way towards the bedroom. “You have two minutes to get your ass inside,” she said.

  I sighed, ran a hand through my hair and looked down at the mess on the floor. One day I was going to have to find a way to get rid of her without having to worry about being run over while crossing an intersection.

  I shook my head and followed her into the bedroom.

  ***

  “She’s got your balls in a jar by her bed,” Bobby joked.

  The station was usually quiet during the nightshift. Mansfield wasn’t a town prone to sudden fires, last night being an exception to the rule. So, most of the work was slow, usually devoted to cleaning the trucks, inspecting the equipment and making sure everything was okay, and of course lazy card games while half the crew dozed off. Of course, on the nights when the Chief was around, we all brought our A game. Fortunately, this was not one of those nights.

  “I resent that remark,” I said, closing the hood of the engine I was inspecting and cleaning my hands on a rag. “I’d like to think it’s pity. That’s why I put up with her. Pure pity.”

  “Right,” Bobby winked. “I mean, I’d be devastated, too, if I had to have sex with her every day to keep her calm. The amount of effort that goes into something like that, I mean, really. So much hard work and devotion.”

  “Fuck you, Bobby,” I smiled.

  Bobby laughed and slumped down on the couch we had propped against one wall of the station’s garage. It was a haggard, old thing, a save from an office fire a few months back. The only thing that hadn’t gone up in flames, and we decided to adopt it. It was a survivor, much like the men who worked in this station, and some of us saw ourselves in it.

  “So, she had no idea about college girl?” Bobby asked.

  I shrugged. “She guessed it, was pretty damn sure about it for a while.” I pulled up a chair and propped my legs up on the couch. “Besides, I think I rose to the occasion pretty well.”

  “Took her down with your fire hose?”

  “You need to remember that we’re not in junior high anymore,” I said.

  “Speaking of which,” Bobby yawned. “What are you going to do about the reunion? Show up with Boobs McCrazy?”

  “I’m thinking I might just pass on going altogether,” I admitted.

  Unlike common belief, I had never been a popular guy back at school. Sure, I played football, might have been considered a jock by some, but I had mostly stayed to myself. Bobby was the only friend I had come out of school with, and I think the fact that we were both firemen kept that friendship going. A lot of the old class were still in Mansfield or around it, and I had lost touch with everyone. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing anyone again.

  “Come on,” Bobby smiled. “Town hero that you are, I’m sure you’ll have crowds flocking to you.”

  “Flex my muscles a bit and make the women swoon?”

  “Precisely,” Bobby laughed. “And if worse comes to worst, I can always step in and make you look good.”

  “Forever the devoted wingman.”

  “I know my strengths,” Bobby shrugged. “Won’t try to hide it.”

  “So, you’re actually going?”

  Bobby shrugged and stretched. “Might be fun,” he said. “We’re completely different people now, man, you and me. Would be interesting to see how everybody else’s changed.”

  “Let me make it easier for you,” I smiled. “The cheerleaders are probably married with kids and bored out of their minds, the jocks are definitely working their way up the blue-collar ladder, and the nerds will be driving in with Mustangs and Bentleys.” I leaned in. “You and me, we’re going to get lost in the crowd and probably go home early.”

  Bobby winked. “Maybe hook up with some of the bored housewives.”

  “Knowing you, you’d probably by them a drink and listen politely while they tell you about how their husbands ignore them.”

  Bobby chuckled at that and was about to reply when his cellphone rang. He looked at it, frowned, and quickly got to his feet. “Gotta take this,” he said.

  I watched him disappear behind the truck, just a little curious as to who was calling. Bobby rarely took a side when answering his phone, and I began to toy with the idea that maybe he had found a new love interest or something. He definitely deserved it, especially after the crap he had gone through with his parents’ death. Sometimes I worried about him, and I knew that living alone in that house was getting to him. There were times I’d catch him taking on extra night shifts, and I knew it was because of the company and not the job. I couldn’t remember the last time I called him and found him at home.

  It’s not like you’re any better.

  Which was true. I had learned to stay the hell away from any home a long time ago, back when my father was a drunken ass who could still piss standing up, and my mother was the mousey housewife who always forgave him. I used to listen to him hitting her from my room upstairs, balling my eyes out and hiding under the bed. When I was old enough to take a proper beating, but still too young to fight back, he came for me, too. It was junior high when I finally stood up to him.

  I remembered the day clearly. I had been in my room, and my old man was going about his usual late-night beatings downstairs. I had tried to shut out my mom’s cries, had tried to ignore the gamut of insults he was throwing at her, but in the end, it had been too much. I guess it was anger, maybe fear, b
ut definitely a loathing towards how much power the man had over me and my mom. I remembered screaming at him from upstairs to stop. I remembered the anger on his face when he came up after me. I remembered the rage that had given his fists an extra bit of strength as he slammed them into me.

  And I remembered being so pissed off and scared that I had fought back and pushed him down the stairs.

  My old man died in a wheelchair from a heart attack. My mother disowned me, which I thought was a fucking hoot. When she died, I didn’t even attend the funeral. All things considered, I didn’t have a family. The people who called themselves my parents were only two idiots who brought me into this world, probably by mistake, and had left me with nothing when they left. The station was my home; the men and women who served in it my family. I had made my peace with that a long time ago.

  I turned around just as Bobby made his way back around the truck, a look of concern mixed with what I could only assume was anger on his face. It was a foreign look to me, and immediately put me on edge.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s Andrea,” Bobby said.

  I stood up quickly. I had hardly known Bobby’s little sister, but I had heard enough to make me take the look on his face a lot more seriously. Bobby had told me about her marriage, the abuse she was taking, and how, like my mother, she didn’t seem to want to do anything about it. I knew Dennis Canfield. We went to school together, and despite the good looks and charm, he was a Class A asshole.