Accuse

by Nikki Sex

  I think I could fuck her twenty times tonight and it still wouldn’t be enough—but it isn’t only her body that draws me. It’s her mind, or her indomitable spirit.

  There’s just something about her that makes me feel so damn grateful to be alive.

  I’ve spent my life paying for sex—I didn’t want to defile a ‘normal’ woman. I was a monster that didn’t deserve love. I can’t think that way now, not when Renata sees me so differently.

  As I drink my Coke, I study the exquisite woman who’s helped to change my life. A full load of my cum is still there, drying all over her perfect breasts. What a sight! And what an incredible idea it was of hers to leave it there.

  I used to be repulsed and disgusted by semen. Not anymore. My cum looks earthy and primal and right on her. How did she know what I needed when I didn’t know myself?

  “What are you thinking?” Renata asks. Her lips curve in a Mona Lisa smile, while her vivid blue eyes shine with desire and affection.

  “That my cum looks good on you,” I reply, basking in the warmth of her gaze. The woman genuinely likes me—I’ll never get over that.

  “Oh, I agree,” she says enthusiastically.

  Her pronouncement is followed by a quick snort of laughter—an inelegant and unapologetic sound. It makes me grin. Scorching hot and blatantly aroused, or open and playful—Renata is who she is. Why is this so easy for her? How can she so shamelessly be herself with me?

  Tilting her head, she studies me. “What else?”

  “So many things.”

  “Mmm?”

  “I’m happy.”

  I can’t tell her any more. I’m buzzed and I’m in the zone. Forget mind and spirit. From now on, I’m up for carnal urges all the way.

  The air surrounding us is a fog of sexual tension, yet we smile at each other in companionable silence.

  It’s a strangely balmy night in Dallas. A soft, cool breeze flows through my open window. Summer evening sounds of crickets and bullfrogs softly fill the air.

  Today while we were shopping, Renata’s powerhouse of a personality was buried behind a shy exterior. It rocked me, completely taking me by surprise. Meek is not who she is.

  I know the real Renata. She’s sitting on the bed across from me, expectant and ready to play.

  “I see you’re hard again already,” she says, raising an eyebrow and eyeing my cock. “I like that in a man.”

  I laugh and stare at her crotch. “And you don’t need to get caught in the rain for me to know your soaking wet,” I reply.

  “You’re not wrong!” she admits, laughing uproariously.

  “Shall we keep playing?” I ask.

  “Of course,” Renata says, putting down her Coke. “First I’ll have a very quick shower.” Her eyes lower, glancing down to her breasts. “I think it’s time for the semen to go.”

  I chuckle. “That’s OK. It’s served its purpose. I’ll never think of ejaculate the same way.”

  She grins at me with a teasing, knowing smile. “That was the idea.”

  “It was a really good idea,” I say, as she walks into the bathroom.

  I hear the shower running. When I think of cum now, I’ll think of how I sprayed it upon her like bestowing a gift. I’ll also remember Renata’s pleasure in receiving it.

  They say ignorance is bliss, but it wasn’t in my case. Intimacy is bliss. Understanding is bliss. Having the courage to speak out—that is bliss.

  I’m not dirty, ashamed or disgusted. I’ve been with Renata for hours, laughing, flirting and enjoying myself.

  It’s beyond belief. I never thought sex could be fun. Physically, I felt compelled to engage in it from time to time. Afterwards, I hated myself.

  For me, sex was akin to going to the hospital for a surgical procedure: something that had to be done, but there was never any real joy in it.

  Now there is joy.

  I never thought I'd be capable of feeling this way. Something inside of me has shifted. I’m already changed.

  When Renata returns, my cum is gone and she’s still wearing her blue underpants! Too bad. Hopefully, I’ll get her naked soon. She sits down across from me, on the bed.

  “You start,” she says.

  I lean forward and flip my card over. It’s a six of diamonds—too low. Shit. I want to win this one. Will she throw something lower than a six?

  Renata, bless her, flips a two of hearts. Laughter bubbles out of me at my win. I’ve never laughed so much in my whole life combined as I have during this one evening with her.

  “Truth or dare?” I immediately ask.

  “Dare,” she smirks. Renata already knows what I want.

  “Lose the panties,” I say in a throaty growl.

  Chapter 15.

  "Your mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer."

  — William S. Burroughs

  ~~~

  Grant Wilkinson

  Directly in front of me, Renata stands up and stretches gracefully. She acts so innocent, but her tits are almost right in my face, the mischievous tease.

  Shoulders back, hips swinging, she gracefully saunters to the center of the room and positions herself into a tempting, provocative pose.

  What the hell is she up to now?

  Captivated by her performance, filled with anticipation and excitement, I turn toward her, shifting to get comfortable in my chair. A flush of warm pleasure rolls over me as I focus my attention on her.

  “You want me to lose my panties?” she asks, regarding me innocently from beneath her lashes. “Do you mean… you want me to take my panties off?” Her voice rings with shock and surprise.

  Renata’s index finger inches up to touch her moist, parted lips. Her expression is priceless—she looks so modest and unsure of herself.

  Yeah, right! She's wholeheartedly enjoying the ‘nervous virgin’ act. The woman’s in her element.

  Her eyebrows arch with a shy question, giving the impression that she’s a little flustered. “Do you…” she says shyly, “do you think I should?”

  Her behavior is so unexpected that I throw back my head and laugh out loud.

  Renata grins, gives me a playful wink as she begins a very slow and sexy striptease. You wouldn’t think she could do much, not with only one tiny article of clothing to take off—but she easily draws it out.

  Years ago, I saw a striptease at a friend’s birthday party in the VIP section of a club. Not that I blame the stripper, but the woman’s sexual interest wasn’t even remotely authentic. Quite frankly, it seemed so forced, fabricated and sleazy that it seriously turned me off.

  Fake sex.

  False love.

  These things disturb the still, dark waters of my mind. They muddy my thoughts, stirring up monstrous and humiliating images of betrayal. When I fall into this kind of mental quagmire, I usually run away in a fruitless attempt to escape my past and clear my mind.

  Unfortunately, no one can escape their past. How can a person run from themselves? Wherever you go… there you are.

  What Renata is doing is nothing at all like what the stripper did. Sure, she’s play-acting for fun, but she genuinely cares. Her interest in me is real.

  She’s real.

  Turning around to show me her shapely back, she bends over. With her butt up in the air, pointed toward me, she slowly pulls her undies down. My blood boils when I see her sweet naked ass. Those creamy white globes are firm, round and fucking gorgeous. She flashes her tempting backside, swinging her hips suggestively side to side.

  I groan in loud protest when the tiny slip of cloth covers her up again.

  Renata laughs and swings her head, tossing her blonde hair over to one side. Her eyes sparkle with mischief when she looks at me over her shoulder. That sassy grin of hers is captivating. So is her teasing, wanton enjoyment.

  “You’re making me feel things I’ve never felt before,” I say, in an unexpectedly harsh voice.

  “Reeeally?” I can tell this idea pleases
her. “Like what?”

  “Like, for the first time in my life, I honestly want to give a spanking.”

  “No! Seriously?” The look she gives me is a strange combination of distaste, mild interest and curiosity. I don’t think she’s ever had a spanking before. That’s fine by me because I’ve certainly never given one.

  Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Do you want to punish the naughty girl?”

  I give her a one-shouldered shrug. “I’d much rather fuck her.”

  Nodding her head in what appears to be approval and relief, she laughs. “Good to know.”

  Her stimulating erotic dance continues with both of us grinning and laughing. When she finally lowers her panties, taking them off entirely, I stare at her crotch. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open. I’m unable to hide my shock.

  “What?” she asks.

  “You shave,” I say hoarsely and then swallow hard.

  “Laser, baby. I got rid of my pubic hair years ago. I have the perfect skin for laser treatments. Do you like it?” she asks, spreading her legs slightly to more completely display her hairless sex.

  My cock pulses violently—I barely prevent climax.

  Unable to speak, I clear my throat. “It’s… ” I pause, mentally grasping for an adjective to describe her pussy. “It’s… very pretty,” I manage to choke out.

  Renata giggles outrageously. “Thank you,” she says. “The skin of my mound is really soft and smooth. When you’re ready, maybe tomorrow—you can touch it and find out for yourself.”

  I mutter a soft oath and she laughs.

  Renata continues doing her naughty striptease, using her panties to hide her private parts, such as her nipples. She swings and drapes the thin strip of cloth over herself and then trails them over me while continuing her sexy dance.

  I can almost hear music accompanying her erotic display.

  One hand holding them in front, one hand in back, Renata moves them back and forth between her legs, rubbing them against her pussy in a seductive, hip-swinging motion. It looks as though she’s riding that damned underwear.

  “Giddy-up cowboy,” she says with a saucy grin while ‘riding’ her panties.

  My jaw clenches.

  I hunger for her with ferocious need. An intense urge to capture her, hold her down over my knee and spank her returns with a vengeance. Would she fight me? Would I be forced to overpower her? I wouldn’t want to do it if she didn’t like it. Why does the mere thought of it excite me?

  Is it that perhaps because a spanking would stop her mischievous teasing? Or because her tight, round ass looks so alluring.

  I long to possess her, own her, and spank her silly. After reddening her backside she’d collapse, limp with exhaustion and wet with desire. Then Renata would give in fully and completely—but only to me.

  My cock twitches and I shake my head. Where the hell do these thoughts come from?

  Yet, the ideas remain and they are… compelling.

  Parting her legs while bending over, she moves her ass and hips in a manner that mimics the in and out action of fucking. My heart hammers against my chest while the blood in my veins begins to boil. Renata is taunting me to madness. Every inch of me is as tight as a coiled spring. My sexual tension has built to an impossible level.

  I think I’m going to explode.

  Her eyes sparkle with lust. The naughty mischief maker enjoys teasing me. When she comes closer, without any warning, I snatch her panties from her in a quick-fingered grab.

  Renata blinks and her lips part—she didn’t expect that.

  I love that I surprised her.

  I look her straight in the eye as I put that tantalizing blue strip of fabric against my nose and inhale deeply. Oh my God. The damned thing is drenched. The woman smells fantastic.

  Her eyes widen and her legs begin to tremble. For once, she’s speechless. She sure as hell didn’t expect that, either.

  I think she liked it. I’ve turned her on.

  This satisfies me on a deep, primitive level.

  “Wow,” she says, “You’re fast.”

  “I can be slow, too,” I murmur suggestively, keeping a completely straight face.

  Renata gets my joke instantly. The sound of her uninhibited laughter makes a smile curl my lips.

  Everything inside me vibrates in a primal need to take her. Mouth dry, pulse pounding, my breath fast and shallow—my body reacts to her heady scent and sexual responses. Wet and willing, this beautiful, intelligent woman wants me.

  I still can’t believe it.

  When I see her laughing and smiling, the polar ice I have inside of me melts. I want my body to fill hers. I need to fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her some more. Renata drives me wild and tests my self-control.

  With her in my life, I’m more alive than I’ve ever been before.

  I’m not a normal guy, especially when it comes to sex. A lifetime of self-doubt and self-loathing made me see myself as a monster.

  Intimacy makes me nervous.

  I don’t kiss. I’m uncomfortable cuddling. I don’t want hugs and I doubt if I could ever sleep with a woman. How do people do that? How do they deal with another person in their bed, right there intimate and up close while they sleep?

  I can’t imagine a future with Renata in it.

  Yet, I can’t imagine a future without her.

  I’m only sure of one thing—I care about her more than I care about myself. There isn’t anything on this earth I wouldn’t do for her.

  Despite the solid evidence of my arousal—in the form of my throbbing cock—I calmly tuck her panties behind me on the chair and lean forward. I force myself to be composed and businesslike, reach for my half of the deck, pick it up and flip another card.

  “Ace of clubs,” I announce. My heart skips a beat because the ace is a winning card. I can’t lose.

  My body burns at the thought of what I want from her.

  Renata slouches down gracefully on my bed and picks up her half of the deck. Her lips twitch with humor as she stares at my card and then at me. Her blue eyes are full of erotic promise.

  “Hmm,” she muses. “Unless I throw down an ace, you win.”

  My throat tightens and my aching cock throbs. “Yes,” I murmur.

  My mind reels with all the things I want to see, not to mention the things I want to do if I get up the nerve to risk it. I don’t want to sink back into usual mental shit, so staying touch-free is still a good plan… at least for tonight.

  And tomorrow? Well, if I don’t go to jail, who knows what I might be capable of?

  Renata flips over the ace of spades, and I curse under my breath.

  “What happens now?” I ask.

  Her expression softens at my obvious frustration.

  “Can’t you tell?” She grins. “This is a win-win, hon, because now we both get what we want.”

  Chapter 16.

  “Vice, virtue—it's best not to be too moral. You cheat yourself out of too much. Aim above morality. If you apply that to life, then you're bound to live life fully.”

  — Movie, Harold and Maude

  ~~~

  Grant Wilkinson

  “You first,” she says. “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.”

  Renata takes a long swallow of her Coke. “OK,” she says. “Hmm, looks like we’re both going for a dare. What do you dare me to do?”

  I hesitate a moment before I answer, mainly to regain my self-control. I’m desperate and my balls ache. How does she do this to me? I only just came, yet I’m hard as a rock and downright uncomfortable.

  Words fall from me with breathless urgency, “I want you to masturbate in front of me,” I say, in a low, harsh voice. “I need to see you play with yourself again, only this time without those damned panties blocking my view. I need to see everything. I want your legs spread wide so I can examine every bit of you. I dare you to play with yourself until you come.”

  Eyes shining, she laughs. “You haven’t had enough of tha
t yet?”

  “I’ve barely gotten started.”

  “Is that right?” Renata arches a brow, while her smile takes my breath away. “Funny thing. What a coincidence. I was going to play with myself again, but I was going to dare you to watch, while telling me your fantasies. I want to know what gets that big, gorgeous cock of yours so fucking hard.”

  “I can do that,” I answer. Her nasty bedroom talk gets me hotter. I didn't think that was even possible.

  “But that isn’t all,” she adds. “While I’m doing what you want, you have to play with yourself, too.”

  I smile, put my hand on my dick, and lightly stroke it. “No problem.”

  “And I dare you to come, but this time, I really want to suck you off.”

  Sharp pain stabs me in the chest and suddenly I’m short of breath. Shit! I can't let her do that! I want to please her but I can’t. I can't.

  All at once those shitty associations from my past are back. Sick to my stomach, I break out in a cold sweat.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  André told me there is nothing wrong with me. The canvas is fine, I just need to repaint the picture, change the players and adjust the scenery. Yeah, right. That’s on my friggin’ 'To-do' list.

  As soon as I figure out how, I will.

  Renata frowns. “Grant? Are you OK? That was a trigger for you, right? You look totally freaked out.”

  I sigh. “Yes. I want my cock in your mouth and I don’t want my cock in your mouth. I know it’s commonly done, but it’s one of those stupid things that make me feel dirty. On the other hand, a big part of me really, really fantasizes about it.”

  “Wait, Grant, are you saying that you’ve never had a woman suck your dick?”

  My face heats and my body stiffens in an instant, involuntary response. Am I aroused, embarrassed or ashamed? It’s probably a combination of those things and more, all battling for supremacy within me. I'm uncomfortable. I don't like discussing or even thinking about this.

  “No,” I respond in a wooden voice.

  Her eyes widen with surprise but I see nothing that seems negative or judgmental.

  Now I’m torn. I could simply keep my mouth shut, but I promised Renata that I wouldn’t lie. Is not telling the same thing as lying? If I keep quiet, she’ll believe an imperfect truth. Curiously, I find the idea of silence abhorrent.