by A. J. Downey
I groaned slightly and he asked, “Clamps too much now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sit on the edge of the coffee table, spread your legs and lean back on your hands. Arch more, that’s it. God, that’s fucking beautiful.”
I followed all of his instructions and I was completely open to him; he roamed my body with his gaze, looking down at me from where he stood, and slid his hands along the tops of my thighs lightly, a ghost of a touch. He went to his knees between my legs and unclipped a nipple. I hissed as the blood rushed back in and he sealed his mouth over it, sucking. The hiss turned into a cry and I threw my head back, my hair trailing on the table, tickling the top of my ass.
He repeated on the other side and I echoed the cry. He repeated his ministrations and I was so close to coming. I had never been so close from any kind of foreplay before. He reached a finger inside of me, teasing through my wetness, seeking and finding the loop on the balls inside me.
“Relax, let them go,” he ordered and I relaxed my body. He pulled them out and the anal plug was pushed out with them, dropping to the carpet. I looked at him, alarmed, but he didn’t seem to care. Instead, he dropped them with a clatter, trailing his tongue between my breasts, down my stomach and expertly unclamped my pussy lips above my clit and covered the sensitive bundle of nerves with his mouth, sucking on it as he let it loose. I arched harder and cried out in surprise and ecstasy, the cool rush of pleasure flowing completely through my body, my pussy, hot and wet, contracting rhythmically with a light orgasm, a promise of things to come.
He knelt up, capturing my eyes with his own and put his hand on my throat, not squeezing, not hurting, just there, exerting the promise of bad things as he guided his cock to my slick entrance. He thrust into me, his other hand finding the outside of my thigh, my ass, and pressing me further towards the edge of the table, closer to him. I pressed back on my hands and scooted closer, trembling as he filled me and wanting just that little bit more.
15
Yale…
I watched myself disappear inside of her and was transfixed by the sight, hypnotized by it as I slid in and out of her wet and waiting pussy. She arched beautifully, her breasts pushed out in front of my face, her reactions as pure and sweet as sun-ripened, low-hanging fruit. I wanted to pluck them all, run back into the dark and gorge myself on them.
I had been intense on purpose, hadn’t tried to ease her into things slowly and had gone all in because I really wanted her to stop me. I wanted her to deny me and leave, and it was something I was good at; self-sabotage at its finest. But she not only wouldn’t be denied, she had kept up so beautifully. Now, I didn’t think there would be any saving us from my devious nature. I was a war of emotions over it, too, emotions I resolutely shoved down so that I could let myself enjoy this.
I curved my arms behind her back and she took her hands from the coffee table, which both surprised me and didn’t. She was deep in her own headspace and my curiosity led me to see what she would do with it. She slipped off of the edge of the table, into my lap, riding me, and I let out a satisfied, ‘ah’ when she took me in as deep as I could go.
Her arms twined around my shoulders and she found a rhythm, and I let her take her pleasure. I liked my women to be willing participants in my little games, just as long as they understood I remained in control. I had never guessed Ally would conform so beautifully and again, I was a mix of emotions over it; overjoyed and miserable at the same time, as I tried to find balance or at least tried to fall completely in one direction over the other.
She bit her bottom lip in that way I found sultry and alluring; her bright green eyes, heavy-lidded with her passion and desire, met mine and it was as if I were electrified. I watched her move above me, poetry in motion and half-regretted that we were out here and not in my bed… but honestly, that was for the best. Had I taken her to my bed, it would mean I had designs on keeping her, and I didn’t think that possible. Not once she got further down this rabbit-hole with me, and damn me that I wanted to draw her in further.
She touched the side of my face and I refocused on her, her beautiful eyes trapping mine, something passing between us in that undefinable way… Whatever she saw in me made her smile ‒ smile! I almost couldn’t believe it, but there it was, this sweet little smile painting her so-soft looking lips, tempting me to kiss her and seal my fate, and for a flicker of a moment I wondered who was really in control.
“I don’t think you’re heartless,” she murmured dreamily, her fingertips dropping to graze my ribs and the ink under my skin there.
“You don’t know me, yet…” I growled, and I turned her to lay her down on the carpet. Her legs wrapped around my hips and I palmed hers, driving into her and pulling her down onto me at the same time. Powerful, driving strokes that made her cry out, those luminous eyes of hers closing, her bottom lip captured between her teeth. I drew it out with my thumb in a light caress and pressed it firmly, but gently past them. She sucked on it like I wanted her to, teasing the pad with her tongue while I drove into her, over, and over, and over again.
I dragged my fingertips over her body, rearing up to look down at her and used my thumb to tease her clitoris gently. She cried out again, arching, heavenly. So beautiful, she came around my cock and as she bent beneath me, I fully expected pure white wings to erupt from her back.
She was perfect, she was everything in that moment and more, and if I didn’t already think I was a devil, the way she looked at me may have convinced me of an exalted angelic status I didn’t possess. Of course, then I might believe myself capable of falling.
Who are you kidding, a voice of betrayal whispered in the back of my mind. You’re falling and you’re falling hard for her. She’s perfect.
I placed my lips above her heart and would devour it if she weren’t careful. She spasmed around me, jolting in my arms, and I died the little death in tribute to her, filling the condom as pleasure rushed out from my center with the power of a nuclear blast.
She clung to me, her arms around me, her head on my shoulder, lips pressed to the side of my neck as we knelt on my living room’s area rug, panting. I didn’t want her to let me go. She felt so good, curled in my lap. Like a purring kitten. Adorable.
You can’t keep her…
I wanted to, but she deserved better than a depraved bastard like me. I eased her back, holding her firmly by her upper arms and with a shuddering breath she sat up and met my eyes.
“Go turn on the shower. I’ll join you, and then I’ll drive you home.”
She nodded, eyes glazed, body limp and it took a few tries and some assistance on my part to get her to her feet. She stood for a moment, trembling, looking well-fucked, and it gave me such a sense of satisfaction that I could almost feel my ego swell with pride at a job well done.
“Go get in the shower,” I ordered again, quietly, and she nodded and moved cautiously in that direction in a trance-like subspace. She would need some aftercare, some time to come back to herself completely, and then I would have to let her go.
I took the few moments I could to clean up out here, dumping the toys in the kitchen sink and disposing of the condom and wrapper in the trash. I probably could have her clean them, but she was beautifully shattered in all of the best ways and I was reluctant to put her back together too quickly. She should enjoy it while it lasted.
I went down the hall, calm and collected, and went into my bathroom. She stood under the gentle rainfall showerhead, face tipped up, eyes closed, and I could picture those missing wings of hers. I wanted to snap a photo and commit this moment to something more permanent than just memory, but I didn’t. Instead, I opened the door and stepped in, joining her.
Her eyes opened and she startled when my hand touched her hip and I smiled asking her, “Where did you go?”
“I don’t know, but I didn’t want to come back… not just yet.”
I knew that feeling. I knew I would have to go back to real life soon enough and I wasn’t ready to
leave this moment, right here, with her. I pulled her arms around my waist and smoothed her hair back from her face. The water collected like a constellation in her long lashes and the way her makeup ran in tracks like tears, was painfully exquisite. It was also painfully provocative. I resisted the urge to put my lips to hers. I didn’t wish to lead her on, and for me, a kiss was something far too intimate – yes, even beyond fucking, for me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked and her fingertips came up to trace my features. I closed my eyes and let her touch me, enjoying the light and inspired feeling of her hands on me.
“Nothing,” I murmured, covering my true thoughts. “A bit tired.”
She smiled a little, sympathetically, and murmured, “I can take a cab home.”
“I said I would drive you, and I will. The least I can do is see you safely home.”
“I don’t want to rush this,” she confessed, and I smiled.
“That is something for your journal,” I said.
“Which you’re going to read anyway, aren’t you?”
“True, yes.”
“So what does it matter if I tell you rather than write it?”
She had a point. Of course, reading things was often times easier than experiencing them firsthand. She took a deep breath and laid her head on my shoulder and I cuddled her close. She sighed out, breath rushing warm over my skin and I fought not to shiver from it. It felt good, standing under the warm shower spray, but all good things must come to an end, even if it is reluctantly so.
“Will I see you again, like that, or was this a one-time thing?” she asked, when I pulled up in front of the project building that she lived in.
We hadn’t spoken much between the shower and now, and it had been an entirely too comfortable silence, our energies combining in that perfect way that you only found a handful of times in your time here on earth – or so I liked to think, considering it had happened so infrequently.
“I don’t know,” I told her truthfully, and caught the flash of disappointed pain in the glass of my passenger door.
“Okay,” she murmured without a fight and I felt like scum. She doesn’t know what you can be like… the voice of reason whispered. Her voice interrupted my thoughts; she cleared her throat and said, her voice even and strong, “Thank you for a lovely evening, Mr. Parnell,” and then the door opened and she was gone, striding up the walkway to her building’s steps, up into the courtyard beyond the open iron gate.
“Dammit, Parnell,” I muttered, and smacked the steering wheel of my Mercedes. I sucked in a breath and let it out in an angry sigh, before pulling smoothly from the curb and back around towards Old Town.
16
Ally…
My Monday wasn’t going well. I made it to work and Millie needed me to work half the afternoon past my quitting time, the afternoon girl had food poisoning. I agreed because Millie was in a bind, but that meant that I would be late getting to Mr. Parnell’s… which meant he would likely be home tonight while I cleaned.
I wouldn’t have minded after our last encounter, but I had done what he asked. I had written down everything, how it made me feel, and I had given it to him in a sealed envelope the next morning when he had come in for his coffee, and then... nothing.
It had just been simple, quiet pleasantries and business as usual for the rest of the week. He hadn’t come home early, and I did my cleaning – per usual. Cameras off and in the nude the following Monday from our dalliance, but when Friday arrived, I suddenly felt unnerved and had gotten dressed again twenty minutes after I started. I had felt guilty about taking the extra pay and so I hadn’t. I’d left a note, telling the truth: that I had begun cleaning but then had gotten dressed and I’d left fifty dollars of my pay behind with it.
The weekend had been spent with Dawnie and my gran and had been good, but Dawnie, damnably perceptive as she could be, had pestered me nonstop with questions I couldn’t answer. It had quickly turned stressful and had ended in us fighting. Which then led me to not be as happy as I usually was when I saw Gran, which upset her, and it just felt like a domino effect of awful.
I went through my day at the café and if I could have afforded it, I would have begged off going to Mr. Parnell’s today, but I couldn’t. I needed the money. So instead, with my apologies, I left the café at five instead of my usual two-thirty, begging Millie’s forgiveness for not being able to stay longer but she completely understood.
I was on my third bus in the crush of the peak of rush hour when the day just seemed to want to get worse. I had my headphones in, but they weren’t on. It was just a thing I did to keep guys from hitting on me. Of course, it was just my luck that not just one, but two of exactly the wrong kind of guys decided that I looked interested despite my intense effort to look anywhere on the packed bus but at them.
“Hey baby, you look fine…” one of them said, drawing out the word ‘fine’ like he was slick or something. I switched hands on the railing and turned my back, hitching my tote bag higher on my shoulder but, unfortunately, that just put me facing his friend.
“Oh! That was cold, girly. Why you gotta be so rude to my friend? Corey here was just trying to give you a compliment.”
I pulled one of my earbuds out of my ear, mouth dry and said, “I’m sorry?” as if I hadn’t heard either of them.
“Aw, quit playin’, baby girl.” Corey was entirely too close for comfort, and I hunched in on myself. I was effectively trapped between them, and I didn’t like that.
“What’s your name?” the one I faced asked.
“Please, I don’t want any trouble. I’m really not interested, guys,” I tried to be as polite as I could when I said it.
“Come on, baby. We just asking your name.”
I glanced frantically at the other passengers for help, but no one would even look at me. I got that sinking feeling in the center of my chest and swallowed hard. Fine. If no one was going to help me, I would just stand up for myself.
“I don’t want to tell you my name, and I’ve already told you I’m not interested. Now, if you’d please leave me alone,” I said firmly.
“Stuck up little bitch, would you listen to her?” the one in front of me said incredulously.
The one behind me grabbed my ass and I stomped down hard on his foot, just as the bus lurched to a stop at my stop. I shouldered past the one in front of me and checked my hip hard against the little divider by the door getting around it. I leaped over the two steps and started walking briskly up the block towards the corner.
“You little bitch!” I heard behind me, and I didn’t look back. I ran.
I pelted up the sidewalk and reached the corner and only then did I look back. They were far closer than I liked and I looked between them and the moving traffic, and as one of them reached for me, I stepped off the curb. Tires screeched along the pavement, horns blared and I dodged in front of a taxi, checking my other hip on the brush guard on the front bumper. I yelped and ran up onto the other curb and made a sharp right. I pounded up the sidewalk and as soon as he was in sight. I sucked down a hard lungful of air and screamed, “Mr. Clive!”
He turned from the street, eyes wide, and I reached out even though I was still almost a half a block away when one of them crashed into my back. I cried out and went down hard on my knees. I was wearing shorts and a sharp pain went through my knees. I screamed and struggled, and one of them went to punch me in the back of my head but glanced off it and punched the sidewalk instead.
“Ally!” I heard a man’s voice bellow, and I looked up, expecting to see Clive, but it was Mr. Parnell getting out of the back of a cab.
“Mr. Parnell, help me!” I shrieked and he was suddenly there. I swear I hadn’t even seen him move. I heard a grunt and the man who had me around the ankle let go and the other shoved me down into the sidewalk, pushing off of me by the back of my head. My chin scraped the pavement painfully, and I rolled onto my back and tried to crab-walk away, towards the safety of the dark green canopy in front o
f the Calvert building.
“Look out!” I screamed, as Damien Parnell leaped back from one of my attackers who now held a knife.
Like some movie martial arts dynamo, he whipped his suit jacket over his head, hands still stuffed in its sleeves and wrapped it around our assailant’s forearm. He pulled the man towards him and it was a flurry of activity too confusing to my eyes and so fast I almost didn’t trust what I was seeing.
Arms reached under my armpits and I yelped, but it was Mr. Clive, saying “Come on, Miss Ally; come with me, this way now. Police are on their way.”
I stood up and went with him, and winced, my knees tight and painful. I moved up the block with him and let him sit me on the bench outside the building’s front door.
“It’s okay now, you’re okay… Here's Mr. Jimmy.”
“Is he okay, is he all right?” I tried to look around the corner, but Mr. Clive and Mr. Jimmy were in front of me, fussing over me. A police car coming from the wrong direction screeched up to the curb, and two uniformed officers got out, leaving their doors swinging wide and I sagged with relief. They went pelting up the sidewalk, and I looked up to Mr. Clive and demanded, “Is he okay?”
“Ally.” My head jerked at the commanding tone and I turned. Mr. Parnell standing there, chest heaving and without his suit jacket, but fine.
I burst into tears of relief, my insides turning to water and my gag reflex working overtime as my stomach rolled. I held up my arms, and he didn’t even blink, he came to me and knelt beside the bench and offered what comfort he could in front of all these people.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed brokenly, breath hitching through the words. “I’m so sorry.”
“Mr. Jimmy, could you please bring up her things?” Mr. Parnell asked over my head, and I heard the old man agree. His shadow over us disappeared, and before I knew it, I was up off the bench and moving across the parquet floor. The gate on the old fashioned elevator rattled and we boarded and then we were moving. I couldn’t even care I was in the deathtrap little box. I just wanted to be as far away from those thugs as possible. Mr. Clive had left his post for me, operating the elevator and then opening the door to Mr. Parnell’s apartment for us.
