Slammed

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Slammed Page 8

by Teagan Kade


  I push my butt back against his cock, pivot my hips so he can better angle his hand, fingers shoveling into my pussy. There’s a warm wind running under the door, but still I shiver at his touch. My nipples are pressing through my shirt. They jut out like stiff diamonds to the mirror.

  There’s a sound in the distance, a cat-call, animal, people perhaps, but such things sit at the periphery of my mind he pulls my hair back, my eyes snapping to the peeling roof and his lips falling hot on the side of my neck.

  Just the thought of him gripping his cock, the image of my body in his head as he spends himself, sends a raging fire spearing to my pussy. I reach back and rub his cock behind me, whimpering into the open air as I run my fingers over its contours, right up to the bulbous head.

  I am yours. Take me however you want.

  My head starts to fill with cotton wool as his fingers brush past my clit and back into the slick folds of my sex.

  I close my eyes. My mouth opens, my jaw strained, trying to close but pried open by this new pleasure as his fingers play in my wetness, sliding into my slit, rubbing the sensitive entrance.

  Short, sharp kisses down my collarbone. His teeth graze my flesh where it’s most tender as his fingers dip into me below. I’m so hot, burning up inside and out.

  Nate pulls my shirt aside and finds a spot on my shoulder, an inch-wide section of skin. I go absolutely crazy when his lips press down upon it. He does it gently at first and then sucks harder as one of his fingers burrows inside me.

  I writhe and buck between him and the edge of the basin, losing control of my body, handing it over to more instinctual urges.

  I’m fully awake, completely electrified as he finger-fucks me, his thumb on my clit and my jaw snapping open again in delight.

  He lets go of my hair and undoes my jeans. I reach down and help him, gripping the top and managing to push them down until they are halfway down my thighs, panties stretched inside, my sex exposed to the humid desert air.

  I’m dizzy. My eyes roll up into the back of my head when the pressure on my clit increases, my labial folds opening up like an exotic, pink flower under his touch. My body prepares itself for him, for his beautiful, glorious cock.

  I can’t stop the moaning and mewing that’s escaping my mouth. I try as hard as I can but fail.

  I spread my legs a little wider, pushing my ass out until my jeans stretch like a rubber band between my knees.

  Nate lets out a breathy sound halfway between a gasp and a heart attack at the sight. He’s standing back, admiring my butt.

  “God, I…”

  His scorching rod falls between my buttocks, sliding there in the crack of my ass. He humps my back, smearing himself over my ass cheeks, the substance chilling fast against my skin.

  One of his hands moves under my T-shirt, running easily under the snug tee and into under the left cup of my bra. His fingers brush against the underside of a breast, snaking upwards to the nipple, pinching and rolling it until sensation floods through my body. I bend forward, leaning against the basin and pushing back into his cock.

  He pulls a condom out, holding it to the light, but I swat his hand away. “No, I want you to feel you—all of you.”

  He needs no more encouragement. He reaches down and presses his cock into the swollen banks of my pussy, right against my sopping hole. I want him more in that moment than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life.

  “Fuck me,” I beg.

  He thrusts home, gasping soundlessly in the mirror, chest heaving, as he hilts his full length inside my wetness.

  There is no gentle lover this time. This is dirty, raw fucking. He hooks me around the waist with his powerful arm and ruts forward, filling me completely.

  We’ve been fucking less than a minute, but already it seems endless. Holding his arm, I go with him. We begin to move as one. Our sense of synchronization is natural. We connect there, his cock running into me, blankets of pleasure that clamp and twist around his cock.

  He reaches a hand forward, cupping my mound, his forefinger running over my clit.

  Already the edges of sanity will to implode. My orgasm is a certainty, rising up so strong my legs tremble and shake with each thrust.

  He mumbles against my throat, drooling down my top as he fucks me. I bounce back into him, no longer caring if someone stumbles upon us, if we’re arrested.

  Let them see.

  He bellows and fucks me harder, playing with my nipples, my pussy, my clit, searching out every inch of my body he can access, trying to map me out and capture everything he can with his fingertips as sweat breaks on my brow, armpits itchy as I push off the basin against him, my breath coming in hulking gasps.

  A finger slides down the crack of my ass, the pad of it pressed up against the tight buttonhole of my anus.

  No, that’s too far, but I remain word-less as the digit slides past the tight ring of my sphincter and deep into the heated dark of my most private orifice.

  I explode. My orgasm slams its way through my body as my clit rides up against the porcelain. I let it come, welcoming its devastating arrival and throwing my head to the sky when it hits.

  He has to hold me upright I come so hard, my juices running around his cock, my pussy hugging him, clamping and releasing his member as I convulse, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, wondering if this amazing feeling will ever end, if I have just died and been transported off the earth itself.

  Through it he doesn’t stop, continuing to stroke into me with frantic measure and pace. I want to feel his release, uninhibited. I’m on the pill. It’s safe. I turn and whisper, “Come inside me.”

  Like I’ve just pulled the trigger myself, he thrusts in to the balls and detonates inside me. Dimly, I feel his balls emptying out, a wet heat running down my thighs between us as he spasms at my back with each ejaculation, pumping his cum deep into my body.

  He grunts aloud like an injured animal, continuing to softly stroke in and out of the mess below, my pussy stretched and used around him.

  He takes up the slack one final time as my muscles clench and squeeze him dry. There’s another wet surge inside me, a last spurt of seed.

  We both slump to the floor, his finger and cock still inside me, my cunt and ass continuing to convulse around them.

  I don’t care the floor’s wet, dirty with who-knows-what. I don’t want to separate, but I know we must. I simply want to stay here locked together.

  His hand runs over my belly, which rises and falls against it. It’s like I’ve just run a marathon. His chest is the same, expanding and deflating against my back.

  “I can’t even… I’ve never…”

  We come apart organically, his flaccid cock spilling from my pussy. I run my hand over my top, my nipples still rock hard with the ghost of his touch upon them.

  I think of all the sexual acts I have to catch up on. The world bursts with possibility.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NATE

  I can tell Dana the shrink is excited because she places her clipboard down, her cell on top.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she beams. “What’s changed?”

  I momentarily consider whether to tell her, but fuck it, I’m happy. I want to tell the world. “I met a girl.”

  She leans back, her eyes sparkling with inquisition. “A girl? Good for you. And your relationship, it’s working out?”

  I think back to the restroom, Lucy’s hands gripping that basin for dear life as her orgasm took her. “You could say that.”

  Dana sits forward, full head-doctor mode. “New relationships are a wonderful thing, Nate, but you do have to find a balance, set boundaries, feel each other out.”

  You don’t know the half of it, Dana.

  “I’m happy for you, but you must remember why you’re here and the incredible opportunity you’ve been offered. Your studies must come first.”

  I don’t mention Lucy is my tutor. I’ll already given Dana plenty to work with, enough to fill her black book for weeks.
<
br />   “Are you listening to me, Nate?”

  “Studies first. Got it.”

  “Good. Now we’re opening up, why don’t you tell me a bit about your time in juvenile detention?”

  “You mean why I was in there?”

  She taps the clipboard. “I already know, but I want to hear it from you, your interpretation.”

  Why the fuck not? “Okay, here goes. You know my original foster father was abusive.”

  She nods.

  “Bastard could throw a punch. Knocked me clean out one day.”

  “That must have been difficult.”

  You think?

  “Tell me what happened,” she glances at her notes, “on the night of the twenty-third.”

  “Christmas Eve, not that it was different from any other day in that shithole. He had money, though, don’t know from where, but he was in a good mood… until one of the other kids spilt her cordial. Was he pissed. Jesus, I could see him getting ready to pounce, pummel her into a pulp, so I got in his face, made him turn on me instead.” I stop, the pain suddenly real again, the struggle.

  “Keep going.”

  I take a breath. “I got angry, couldn’t take it anymore, kicked him right in the nuts. He took a bottle—empty—smashed it against the side of the table. That was new. He always used his hands or feet, never anything that could cut, leave a scar.”

  “What did he do with it?”

  “Lunged at me, got me good right here.” I hold my hairline back, show her the mark. “I snapped. Somehow I managed to wrestle him to the floor. The bottle was just lying there, begging me to do it, so I did. I picked it up and stuck him right in the neck.”

  I notice Dana draws her legs together a little tighter at my cold, detached tone. “I couldn’t get off scot-free. State wouldn’t allow it no matter how much I told them about the abuse. All the others were too young, never understood what was happening. They couldn’t back me up. So, six months in juvie. Longest days of my life.”

  “You resent the people that put you there.”

  She’s pushing me. A week or two ago I would have taken the bait, but I think of Lucy, of calm. “The past is the past. I’ve moved on.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Always stay in the present, Nate. Remain mindful.”

  But I’m already thinking about the future, of Lucy and me together, the NBA—anything seems possible right now.

  *

  I’m not exactly thinking mindfully walking to the library, though. People are calling out to me as I pass, but I don’t react. I’m still thinking about the home, that fucker. I went to his grave once. It’s in a little cemetery next to a power station, every plant in there dead or dying. I spray-painted ‘cunt’ on the tombstone, the smell of acetone from the stacks looming over. He deserved a lot worse than the end I gave him.

  The sanctuary of the library is welcome. I leap up the stairs two at a time to the third floor where I know Lucy will be waiting. I thought I might have gone too far in that restroom, the finger too much, but she loved it. Not such a Disney princess after all.

  I’m coming up to the study room, but there’s no one inside. I check it again, face pressed against the windows, but there’s no Lucy.

  “Psst,” comes a small voice from the stacks.

  I turn, unable to see anything at first and then the outline of a figure down the back. “Lucy? I whisper.

  She steps forward a little more into the light and waves me over. I look back towards the stairs. I saw two staff downstairs, a handful of students. None of them looked like they were headed up here.

  I move into the shadowy world of the stacks and meet Lucy. I finger my way along the shelves beside her.

  Kama Sutra

  The Joy of Sex

  She smiles. “Fitting, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Why are we here?”

  She takes hold of my shirt. “Mr. Serious all of a sudden.”

  “Tough session with the shrink.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” She takes my hand and guides it under her sweater. She’s not wearing a bra, a nipple hardening into a tight pebble against the palm of my hand, her areola dimpled.

  Leaving my hand there, she reaches underneath her skirt and hooks a finger into her panties, drawing them down her legs and standing on one foot to pull them off. Looking down the aisle, she lifts her skirt up, her now bare pussy on display.

  “Wow.” It’s all I can get out.

  I take the lead, removing my hand from her sweater and pushing the garment up on top of her milky breasts.

  I hold her wrist and draw it up to rest on the shelf above her, her arm outstretched to the side. I repeat the process with the other, her breasts winged out right under my eyes.

  I place my head on her shoulder and speak. “You’re wet, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” comes the whimper. She blushes, color clear in her cheeks even here in the dim light of the stacks.

  I close the distance between us until we’re nose to nose. My breath is hot against her lips. My jacket brushes against her bare breasts, the material catching on her strained nipples.

  Her breathing turns harsh and haggard, arousal thick in it.

  I shift a hand into the heat between her legs. I clamp a nipple with the other, a soft moan coming to her lips.

  I saw my fingers back and forth in her wetness. “Tell me what you want.”

  She closes her eyes, mouth open. “Your cock.”

  “Say please.”

  “Please,” she begs, breathless. She bites down on her lip, face twisted and a pained sound escaping.

  I force my tongue into her mouth and she responds, our mouths falling and collapsing in desperation, my fingers floating through her folds. She presses down against my hand.

  I find her clit, the sound she was bracing to exhale catching in her throat as I knead the swollen bud.

  Her hips tip towards me, the hot scent of her sex rising between us. She thrusts forward and down against my fingers fixed solely on the sensation. I edge her closer until her legs are shaking, her thighs quivering. She wants the release. She’ll do anything to get it.

  I ease up on her clit and slide a finger into her drenched pussy. I add another and then a third, finger-fucking her hard. She clutches the shelf behind her, head tilting back, panting.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” I whisper.

  She starts grabbing at my crotch, drawing my zipper down and fishing out my cock. I lift one of her legs up, her pussy parting. Her shoe struggles for purchase on the second shelf, but my fingers are firm under her thigh.

  I press the rubbery head of my cock against her opening. She’s moaning, practically screaming at the intensity and danger of it all. I press my cock more persistently against her. “Please,” she begs, clutching my shoulders, “I want you inside me so bad it hurts.”

  I smile, nuzzling against the soft down at the back of her neck. I drive up hard, filling her from the first stroke.

  She gasps loudly, burrowing her face into my neck and biting down.

  I draw back from her slickness and thrust up again, her whole body shifting with the impact and my shaft running deep into her molten center.

  Her hipbone slams against the shelving, a textbook entitled The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality falling open on the floor.

  I fuck her harder, slam up into her body.

  “Yes,” she moans into my ear, this one word sending me into a flurry, her whimpering mixing with the sound of my balls slapping up against the underside of her ass.

  Teeth gritted, I stroke inside her until her fingers dig into my flesh and she begins to tremble and spasm, my release jetting hard into her heated depths.

  I hold her pinned to the shelves, our breathing synchronized.

  Suddenly, I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairwell. I pull free and stuff my cum-streaked cock back into my jeans. Lucy picks up her panties and places them in my jacket pocket with a pat of her hand.

  “Keep them,” she wi
nks, moving out from under me and pulling her sweater down.

  Suffice to say, it’s hard to study with the warm ball of her panties in my pocket, the knowledge that under her skirt she’s naked, ready.

  It’s starting to rain as we come outside later, the cold front that’s been building for days finally upon us.

  “You know,” I tell her, pulling her close and not giving a damn who can see us, “you’re becoming rather naughty.”

  “Horse pucky. I’m a good girl. That other girl, Lucinda, the one in the stacks. She’s the one you have to watch out for.” She gives a little growl and I crack up.

  I run a strand of hair over her ear. “When can I see Lucinda again?”

  She leans over and whispers, “Whenever you want, King Compton.”

  “Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. Lovely Lucy in the sky with diamonds.” We both turn at the sound of the voice.

  Lucy stiffens up beside me. I see panic in her eyes. She told me there’s been a guy harassing her. I remember him from the stadium, the way he was watching me.

  He approaches with his hands in his pockets. I’ve been around enough to know that’s a very bad thing.

  I place my hand out. “Hey, buddy, you better back up, you hear me? Lucy wants nothing to do with you.”

  The guy’s creepy in the extreme, his hair slicked back like he’s Tony Montana, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. He looks at me like I’m a turd on his shoe. “We’re meant to be together. It’s fate.”

  “It’s nothing. Beat it.”

  Still he keeps coming, Lucy moving to my back. “Nate, let’s go.”

  But I know this psycho will keep coming. I can’t protect her twenty-four seven. No, this guy needs to know this isn’t acceptable.

  He puts his arms out and keeps walking, the fucker.

  “One more step and it’ll be your last.”

  He stands right up to me, so close I can smell his fetid baloney breath. He pokes me in the chest. “What you going to do about it, King Compton, or should I call you the court jester?”

  My arm snaps up and I knock the prick to the ground. He whimpers there, clutching the side of his face.

  “Nate!” Lucy screams.

  “Don’t you dare fucking get up.” I raise my foot to show him what he can expect if he does.

 

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