by Gabi Moore
“You’re not going anywhere, you’re going to stay right here and let me keep loving you,” I said in an almost-whisper. “And we’re going to keep doing this…” I added, and let my other hand caress the full slope of her hips and squeeze her ass so she knew exactly what I meant.
I felt the tension in her melt a little.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said those things, I don’t know why I’m so crazy these days, I—”
“Shhh…” I said and gently kissed her cheekbone.
“I’m serious though, Leo, I think I’m losing it. The things I did…”
“What did you do?” I said to her neck, and then carried my trail of kisses down to her collarbone. She took a long time to answer me.
“I …I danced.”
I stopped kissing and looked at her.
“You danced?”
“I danced.”
I took a step back and cocked my eyebrow at her. I had always suspected that Sophia had a little hidden edge to her, a little more than a wild streak but something she was more than capable of restraining. But the look she now gave me had me wondering if she wasn’t well-behaved with a tiny wild streak but more like wild with a tiny well-behaved streak.
“On the …stage? You mean you danced at the club?”
I had vaguely imagined her cowering in a corner, dismayed at the seedy place they’d taken her to threaten me, but this confession immediately changed everything. She squirmed a little and looked as though she couldn’t find the right words.
“They forced you to dance?” I said gently. The idea was awful. Them abducting her, keeping her prisoner and then forcing her to dance was one that filled me with the most white-hot rage. But I couldn’t ignore that that rage was tinged with a sharp little pop of curiosity that still wanted to hear every last detail.
“Well, actually …this is kind of difficult to say…” she muttered and kept staring down at the floor.
“Just tell me, Sophia. Did they threaten you? Did …did anything else happen?” I tried not to allow my thoughts to go too far down the road of what else could have happened there, although some sick part of me wanted it to be bad.
“No, it wasn’t like that. They didn’t hurt me at all.”
“Then what? You can tell me,” I pressed. Had they humiliated her somehow? Is that why she was so reluctant to speak to me now?
“I wanted to do it,” she blurted at last. “I pushed for it. I went on stage and I …I enjoyed it. I loved it, actually.”
Here she frowned and shook her head from side to side, like she didn’t quite recognize herself.
“You …you wanted to dance?”
The look on her face now was devilish.
“They watched me,” she said quietly. “I took everything off, I showed them everything, and they all watched me, and they fucking loved it, and I … I…”
“What? What did you do?” I asked, nearly shaking her by the shoulders.
“I came!”
“What?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but just being up there, I can’t explain it, it was so intense, I felt like I was going to pass out except in the best way possible… and I …”
“Who—”
“No, nobody touched me, I was just …I was on fire. It was like magic. I stepped off the stage and my body just… ” her eyes glazed over and the look of pleasure that washed over her face had the strongest effect on me. Secret, shameful parts of me had imagined her stolen and ravaged. Imagined the sordid things they had done to my sweet, innocent girlfriend. They were thoughts almost too obscene to even imagine, and yet, here she was telling me something even sexier. She wanted it. She really wanted it.
But suddenly her blissful expression collapsed on itself and she was frowning again.
“In any case, I just don’t know what’s going on with me anymore. I’ve spent such a long time rehabilitating, Leo, and all of that shit is in my past now, and it’s behind me now, and I can’t risk…”
I knew she had had a drug problem in the past. I knew she was ashamed of her childhood, of doing the whole foster parent circuit. Of the shoplifting, the fighting in school. I already knew all of that. She continued, little tears growing on the edge of her lashes.
“I just can’t trust myself anymore. I’m regressing,” she sobbed, then flung herself into my arms.
My mind whirled.
“There’s stuff you don’t know, Leo. I never told you. I was too disgusted with myself. I used to be…”
“A dancer? You used to strip? What?” I asked, confused.
“Much, much more than that,” she said coldly.
I pushed her away at arm’s length and studied her.
“More? Like what? You used to …you used to sell yourself?” I yelled. The anger came more quickly than I knew what to do with it.
She was so thrilled by the idea of stripping and being a whore that just the idea made her come, and yet here we were, on a dry spell that was going on a month now? How the fuck did that make any sense? Hadn’t I given her everything? Didn’t we have the perfect relationship? I had assumed I had always pushed too hard, that I always needed to be gentler with her, to be patient, and yet… my jaw clenched down.
She said nothing, only looked at me with those two-tone eyes, pulled wide open.
“You’re right, we should call the wedding off,” I said, and released her. Her lower lip quivered.
“Leo, please don’t be angry, I’m as confused as you are, I want to be honest with you, I wa—”
“Just shut up!” I yelled, and instantly regretted it.
“Did you really actually have an orgasm on stage? Seriously?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, was it worth it?” I said, voice rising again. It was my turn to feel as though I couldn’t recognize her.
She said nothing.
“Well, tell me? Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy being a giant slut for everyone? I can’t believe this,” I said, now leaning up so close to her that she shrunk back in fear. “Tell me, was it really that good? Huh?”
She stared at me mutely, eyes big. I wanted to shake her.
“Well?”
“Yes! I fucking loved it!” she hissed back.
I was stunned.
“Then dance for me,” I said.
Our eyes caught for a moment, brown with blue, blue with brown, locked together in that way that only we could look at each other. Fuck, I loved this woman. And in this moment, I wanted to hurt her.
“Do it,” I said more quietly, my voice choking up. “Dance for me. I want to make you feel that too.”
“I can’t,” she said eventually and shook her head, but I grabbed her shoulders and pulled me towards her.
“You can, and you fucking will,” I hissed. The shock on her face made me instantly hard. I couldn’t explain it. Hate and love and fear and lust and confusion and delicious, delicious desperation all mixed together. I didn’t know what I was feeling. I only knew it was intense.
“Do it. Strip it all off and dance for me like you did when you were playing the whore, since you clearly love it so much,” I said with steel in my voice. She wanted to play with fire? She had a dark, kinky side? Well, so did I.
She opened her mouth to protest once more, but I cut her short.
“Do it.”
Her eyes hardened at me. She took a step back, and then that glazed expression went over her face again. I could tell her hands were shaking as she ran them over her body. She was demure, awkward. She took a step away from me. I could see the lump dip and rise again in her throat as she swallowed. I flung myself into a chair, spread my legs wide and watched her, hands laced on my lap. I loved how nervous she was. I loved that she was shaking.
“Don’t hold back, baby. You want to play with this kind of thing? Then do it. Fucking show me,” I said. And slowly, very slowly, the moment morphed from angry and painful into something delightfully hot. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and arched her back, and gradually, s
he started to move like something molten, like a flame but in slow motion.
She was beautiful.
Without looking at me, she stroked her tight midriff, snaking her hands down and all the way up her tight little body. I could still scarcely believe that a few hours ago I had given her the thorough fucking I had. I couldn’t believe what my body had done to hers. And that she had loved every second of it.
I watched as she gyrated and twisted her hips, rose up onto her toes to stretch out and then let her perfect breasts sway from side to side right in front of me. She was my girlfriend. My fiancé. But she was possessed. This wasn’t just another side to her that I was just now seeing. It was a whole extra dimension.
She moved silently, then slipped off her clothing, first her shirt, then her jeans, taking her time. It was the same body I had dominated the night before, but the way she held herself now made her seem utterly different. I wanted her, badly. Though I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, I felt my body tighten and harden at the mere sight of her. I had felt raw and exhausted after what we had just done together, but it didn’t seem to matter. I wanted more.
She peeled her eyes open and gazed heavily at me, daring me to watch her more closely, a voluptuous, almost challenging smile on her full lips. She could tell what she was doing to me. There were no words. There didn’t have to be. The space between us became electrically charged somehow, filled with the wordless conversation that we were having, a carnal call and response between my body and hers. It took every fiber of my will to not reach out and grab her again, and show her just exactly what I was capable of doing to that teasing body of hers…but I held back, transfixed by her gaze, by her silky movements and full, swirling hips.
“Touch yourself,” I ordered. Without skipping a beat, her fingers spread out against her flanks and slid down, down toward that now naked triangle between her legs. I worshipped Sophia’s cunt. It was the like the cup of a goddess; like a spell in the flesh. She slid her fingers down and over the soft fuzz, so gently and gingerly that it was as though she was afraid she’d frighten something away, afraid she’d spill something or break the spell.
Her fingers were shaking again. But then, so were mine. I watched as one long finger slipped inside those folds and my whole universe folded in on itself and went right along with it. She stroked slowly in and out, following the erotic rhythm she had in her own head, and I could see how soaked she was, how frictionless it was for her to dip into and out of that dripping spot, teasing herself, knowing all the while that it made so hard I felt ready to explode.
“I want you to come for me,” I said, my voice nothing more than a low growl. Obediently, she tilted her hips and picked up the pace. Her other hand was clutching at her breasts; squeezing and rolling in precisely the way my own hands were itching to. But I just watched.
“I want you to come just like you came when you were showing your body off to them. Make yourself come and let me see it. Let me see exactly what a little slut you are,” I said quietly, and her fingers sped up.
Her chest began to rise and fall with jagged breaths, and her movements became less coordinated. Her long brown hair fell in waves down her back and shook as she pleasured herself, completely naked before me, on full display and revealing a secret to me I had never known was inside her. Her face rippled with little movements of pleasure, and her lips parted and came together again as though with a life of their own.
I knew she knew I was watching her intently, but her eyes were closed and she was in a world of her own. It was a sight to behold. So this is what turned her on. This was the secret button that unleashed her.
I unzipped myself to release my cock, now aching and rigid, and stroked myself idly as I watched. Just the slightest movements were almost too much – she had turned me on so much already that it felt like it took every gulp of air and every muscle in my body to hold off from bursting.
After what seemed like a lifetime, she came. It started somewhere at the base of her spine, right at the swell of her perfect ass, and ripped through her like a string of dynamite tears through the side of mountain. Almost instantly her chest came jerking forward and her mouth fell open, and the sweetest, hottest little gulp emerged from her throat, followed by a little whimper as she pushed herself over the edge.
Her knees buckled and clamped closed over her hand, as she shuddered and shook against herself. Soon, she was on her knees, eyes shut and flickering, both hands shooting out in front of her to steady herself against the spasming in her shapely hips. I couldn’t resist. I yanked down my jeans, sending the belt buckle clanging away to the ground, and thrust my hips toward her, cock straight up.
“Suck it,” I commanded her.
She had barely made it through the last of the shudders of her orgasm but obediently crawled over and took me in her already open mouth. Fuck. My head fell back and I pressed into her, shoving the tip deep into her wet, warm throat. It was heaven. Her puffy lips closed tight around the shaft and sucked me all the way in without the slightest resistance. She usually never did it like that, but at this moment she seemed …opened. Completely opened. Like her hard come had loosened something deep inside her and so now she was more than ready to swallow the full, hard length of me, till her pretty lips pressed right to the hilt.
I can’t say what happened from then on. In a way, I wasn’t even there when it happened. The rhythmic dance of her slinky tongue and wet lips all along my cock stroked me off to another world, where I could only see stars, could only feel fireworks exploding against my skin.
I glanced down to see her still fingering herself, a greedy little hand working furiously over her swollen clit while she serviced me. When I came, she opened her mouth wide and thrust my cock right to the back of her eager throat, swallowing me whole and gulping down every last shuddering spurt that burst from me. I clutched down on her hair and cried out. I roared out and felt myself pulse and empty out into her greedy mouth, her lips pressed right to the tight brown curls right at the base of my cock.
It was a surrender. A complete submission to her tongue.
When I eventually calmed down, she had scooted closer to me, feet still tucked under her, and then placed her head in my lap as I lay there. I stroked her hair idly as I tried to come back to earth. Her head rest sweetly on my hipbone, my softening cock close enough next to her to receive the little kisses she gave the tip, her eyes still closed.
I had known Sophia for years. But in many ways, that was the first time we ever truly met.
***
“…and then it slowly dawned on me what had happened. It was all a huge setup, right from the start. Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think I’m just the biggest chump to have fallen for it?”
She looked at me with deep concern in her eyes. I mean, I certainly felt like an idiot. “What? No, of course not. Oh my god, Leo, you should be glad that you’re not like those men.”
I smiled as I thought that, in many ways, I was showing her a side of myself that she probably hadn’t seen before. She was capable of dancing naked in front of strangers – and relishing it – and I was capable of killing a man. And the weirdest secret of all was one that we had invisibly had as a couple all along: that not only were we OK with the dark, but it had been the missing piece of the puzzle all along. The thing that had been magnetizing us to one another all along, even though we mostly had pretended it wasn’t there.
I had fucked her twice again before morning. She had still felt slick against my skin, still open and still hungry from the time before, and I had fucked her again, and then again once more when just the memory of her body gliding hot and desperate around me was enough to make me want her all over again. We smelled of one another. The house was turned upside down and various pieces of clothing, sheets and towels were strung all over the place in honor of the sex bomb that had just exploded inside it.
As we had taken off one another’s clothes, as we had stripped away at all the masks we had worn for the other, and eve
n the masks underneath those, we were slowly piecing together something else, something darker. I had killed him. The cold, hard fact was there in front of us, and now we had some hard choices to make.
“But you say you didn’t actually see any cameras when you were inside? There’s still a chance he’s just bluffing,” she said.
I shook my head. No, this much was clear: they wanted to frame me, and I had played right along, literally stepping into their trap and doing their dirty work for them.
“And you have no alibi for that night,” she mumbled, thinking aloud.
“Well, that might have been you, but you were at the strip club, and I’m sure quite a few people could confirm it,” I said and laughed cynically.
“Oh my god, nobody can ever know,” she blurted.
I smiled and hugged her.
“Relax, baby, they’re not really after you. In fact, I don’t think they were quite banking on you being so …unpredictable.”
“You’ll be a wanted man soon,” she said. And it was true. If it hadn’t already happened, a case was likely being built up against me as we spoke. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the police were already on my tail. But here my mind went blank. What could I do? Run? I had already vowed to myself that I wasn’t ever going to do that again. No, I couldn’t explain it, but I wasn’t going to run anymore. In fact, I was going to turn and fly straight into the hurricane.
We lay together for a moment, trying on the feeling of being naked, cuddling fugitives, when she shot up and gave me a wide-eyed look.
“We have to go back to that house,” she said.
“And then?”
I looked down at her pretty face and could see her thinking. Then quick as a fox she sprang up and went to rummage in her coat pockets. All at once she held up something triumphantly and then rushed over to the bed to show it to me.
A notebook. A small one, so worn at the edges the paper had gone soft, and filled with so many scribblings and scratchings you could almost smell the ink in it. I flipped through it quickly to see lists, records of numbers. A lot of numbers.
