She does it, offering up her pink, wet pussy. I slide my cock underneath her, soaking up her wetness that's streaming down the insides of her thighs.
I grab her hair once more and lean in, biting on her earlobe. I want to hear her reaction to what I'm about to do.
"Is this what you want?" I tease the tip of my cock against her clit.
She nods, her eyes closed.
"How do you want it?" I slap my cock up against her wet mound. "You want it hard? Like a little whore?"
"Uh huh." She nods again.
I grip her hair tighter and turn her head to face me. "Look at me and tell me."
Her eyes open and I slap my cock up against her clit. They roll back and she moans, before they lock onto mine again. "Please. I want you to fuck me like a little whore."
"Whose little whore are you?" I line my cock up with her entrance.
"I'm your little whore."
"Goddamn right you are."
I turn her head back toward the wall, and lean in next to her before shoving my cock into her wet cunt. Her gasp and squeal is music to my ears as I lean back and start a punishing pace, pumping into her while her ass slaps against my thighs. Leaning back, I keep a tight grip on her hair. I grab her chin with my free hand and turn her head to me so I can see her eyes.
"Look at me when you come."
Tension builds in my balls and I can't hold out much longer. She keeps her eyes locked on mine as I pound her to the hilt.
Her moans grow louder as I increase the tempo.
"You gonna come for me like a good little whore?"
She nods, still staring at me.
"Whose little whore are you?" I use my hand that's on her chin, and slap her playfully on the cheek.
"I'm your little whore."
I grip along the top of her shoulder and dig my fingers into her soft skin, then start yanking her back to me while I pump into her.
She squeals. Loud.
"Yeah, you like it hard, you naughty little bitch. Come on this fucking dick."
I thread my arm through hers and grab hold of the other, then yank her up towards my chest. My other hand slaps on her clit and I work it in rapid strokes.
She gasps as I fuck up into her as hard and as fast as possible, and her body starts to tremble under my touch. She squirms and tries to push away, but I tighten my grip on her arms and lean up next to her face.
I growl into her ear. "That's it. You take every inch of that fucking dick and you come all over it now."
Sounds of my thighs punishing her ass cheeks with each thrust, coupled with those of my cock pistoning her wet cunt, ring out through the closet.
"Fuck." She's getting fucked so hard her words vibrate from her lips.
"You gonna come for me?"
She nods, unable to speak.
"Look at me when you come on my cock, you dirty bitch." I smack her on the ass and somehow manage to speed up my hips. I feel my balls tighten and my load start to build. I slap my hand over her mouth and she screams into my palm, looking me dead in the eye, as I fuck her so fast and hard she won't walk straight tomorrow.
Her eyes roll back and her warm walls clench around my shaft as her body seizes against me. She finally recovers a few seconds later and I release my hand from her mouth.
"Where do you want it?"
"My mouth." She's panting and I barely make out her words.
I never get tired of hearing that.
"Naughty bitch. Get on your fucking knees." I slip my cock out of her and start pumping it as she drops down and tilts her chin up. "Stroke that cock off in your mouth."
She takes my dick from my hand, wraps her lips around just the head, and starts pumping it furiously with her hand. I stare down into her eyes and my load builds in the tip of my cock.
I grab her by the hair and fight the urge to fuck her face while I blow in her mouth. I nod to give her a warning, and finally, it's too much to take. I grunt and let loose, emptying my balls in her mouth as she sucks on me and flicks her tongue across my dick, still jerking me off until she gets every drop.
She starts to pull me from her mouth and I push it in another inch.
"Swallow it you little slut." I tighten my grip on her hair.
She moans on my cock as she gulps, then finally slides me out of her mouth and opens up so I can see that it's gone.
"Good girl." I give her another playful tap on the cheek and she smiles.
I'm standing there in a euphoric state, a little dizzy from the intensity of the orgasm. Brittany stands up and starts to get dressed.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp pain of anxiety and regret stabs me in the stomach. I know what's causing it, but I can't admit it to myself. What have I done?
Don't shit where you eat, Joel! Goddamn.
"Oh fuck, Quinn." My brain to mouth filter doesn't catch the words before they escape my lips.
Joel, you stupid bastard, how could I do this to her?
Wait a second. I didn't do anything to her. She's not my girlfriend, or my wife.
Fuck her.
I immediately feel bad for thinking that last bit.
"Joel, Joel."
Brittany's words are like gibberish in my ear as I stand there with a blank stare on my face. I'm oblivious to her. All I can think about is Quinn, now more than ever. My body tries to trick me into thinking I've betrayed her. Why? It doesn't make any sense.
I think I might hurl everywhere. This woman has taken up residence in my head, despite the eviction notice.
"Joel!" Her voice is one level below a scream.
"Yeah, what? What is it?" I snap out of my daze.
"Who the fuck is Quinn?"
"Who?" Maybe I haven't completely snapped out of it. I put my pants back on.
"Quinn!" Her arms are folded and her lips are mashed together, her jaw clenched.
"Nobody. What? What are you talking about?" I buckle my belt.
"You said her name, twice. God, she's your girlfriend isn't she? Or your wife? Jesus Christ, you're married aren't you?"
She looks at me the way kids look at vegetables on their plate.
"I don't have a fucking girlfriend."
How am I going to get out of this? I can't even focus.
"Yeah right, you fucking asshole." She storms out of the room.
I'm in shock. I can't believe that just happened. Goddamn, she's going to tell people I'm a cheating bastard. I honestly feel like one, but it's simply not true.
What have I done? I'm like Buckner in the World Series. This has to be a bad dream.
QUINN
"SO WHAT DO you think about Tommy?" I ask.
"He's so much fun. We've hung out almost every night this week." Megan grins sheepishly.
"Well, go on. Give me the details."
It's Monday at the office and people are bustling down the halls of the firm. It smells of coffee and depression. Some people look hungover, some sad, but not Megan. She's been smiling a lot this past week and that means Tommy must be doing something right.
"We're taking things slow, just having a lot of fun. I haven't laughed so hard in my life. He's absolutely brilliant too."
"Go on." I nudge her with my elbow, and she blushes.
She leans over to whisper. "It's going very well."
So much for getting some juicy details. She's obviously not going to give them up. She hasn't said a thing about Joel. I know she's met him. I have to stop thinking about him. I hope he's doing better.
Get your shit together, Quinn.
"Well, I have to get going. We have a consultant coming in. I might just blow my brains out." I put my fingers next to my head and pull the trigger.
"Okay, well let's grab lunch later this week. Or hang out. We haven't done that in forever."
"I know. I need a girls' night so bad." I adjust my purse on my shoulder.
"Let's do it then. Just shoot me a text and let me know when works for you."
"Sounds good." I turn on my heel and walk through a
row of cubicles full of people trying to look busy.
A couple of guys look up to check me out. I look like a mess but they don't seem to mind. I woke up late and pretty much threw my hair up and slung some clothes on. I forgot that I would be in meetings all day.
I see some of the ladies from my department standing around whispering to each other. It's usually the same gossip—who's cheating on their wife, who's sleeping with who for a promotion, who the bitch of the week is, or the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy. It's always pretty boring and petty, but I like to stay on their good side. The last thing I want is them talking about me.
I refer to them as the bitch brigade—in my mind of course, and never to their faces. I walk up as they all point and snicker.
"So, what's the dish? Come on, I want the deets!" I want to slap myself hard for saying "deets." It's what I have to do to survive in the workplace though. It makes life less complicated.
The leader, Madeline, and the hideous mole on her upper lip respond.
"Oh, you haven't seen the consultant yet? Delicious!"
Oh goddamn, please don't lick that disgusting mole on your face. She always does this thing when she sees an attractive guy, where she sort of licks her lips and tilts her head back. She has to be pushing 60 and calling her rotund is putting it nicely. Fuck me, there goes the "tilt 'n lick" maneuver. I try not to vomit.
I look over, and Tommy is standing there.
What in the hell?
He's an accounting consultant. There's no way he's here for the marketing department. He spots me and comes walking over at a brisk pace, and he's glaring.
"Well, you can't even let Megan go to work. Can you? She's got that ass whipp—"
He cuts me off mid-sentence.
"We have epic fucking problems, woman."
My mind races. Tommy is attractive and brilliant, but he's not hot enough to elicit a "tilt 'n lick" from the cunt sorceress. All of the neurons in my head begin to fire in a meaningful sequence, and it hits me just as he walks around the corner.
Joel.
Fuck me. No wonder Tommy is here. But why? These bean counters shouldn't be consulting with marketing. They should be down with the number jockeys, making Excel jokes and talking about taxes and shit. Actually, most of the people in accounting are really sweet, even the guys. They're mostly introverts though, so it's fun to fuck with them from time to time. I would take them over the bitch brigade any day.
My body is yanked out of Joel's view before he sees me.
"Jesus Christ, Tommy." I pause for a moment and stare at him. He's sweating bullets. "What the hell is your problem? She making you go to war to get in that skirt or what?"
He starts to lecture me and then chuckles. "Yes, she is actually. But that is beside the fucking point. Joel is here."
"I know. I just saw him. Has he gained weight? He looks a little puffier than I remember."
I start to look around the corner and he yanks me out of view again. He's about to get knocked out.
"Will you fucking focus. Just stop for a second and connect the dots."
I stare at him blankly, and my face heats up. "Look man, I haven't even had my goddamn coffee yet. What the hell kind of quantum entangled conspiracy theory do you have cooked up in your brain right now? I'm worried about you."
"I came to see Megan and I ran into Fatty McGhee out there."
"He has gained weight. I told you. He's still gorgeous though. Bastard." I fold my arms across my chest.
"Well, he's going to meet Megan. He will see you. You get what I'm saying?" He's still staring at me like I'm an idiot.
"Yeah, he meets your girlfriend, and he sees me. It seems pretty obvious. He will talk to women he knows today."
"Man, I swear. Get your shit together. He's going to know I met her through you. Which means he will know I've been hanging out with you. Which will send him flying off the deep end and he will close the goddamned Haagen Dazs factory for good this time." He tugs at the collar on his shirt.
"That's quite a stretch. I mean c'mon."
He's still standing there, staring at me like I'm stupid, and he's about to get dick kicked across the room. It's as if he can sense it too. His knees turn to jello.
"He's my best friend, okay? I should've told him about this shit. I didn't."
"Okay, what do you want me to do? Pretend to be sick and go home?" I shrug.
"That's not a bad idea. Occam's Razor at its finest."
I have no idea what the fuck Occam's Razor is, so I just nod.
"No, no, I have to tell him. I'm just going to tell him. Holy tittyballs, has that lady seen that goddamn mole on her face?" He stares at Madeline and it looks like he just bit into the sourest lemon on the planet.
"It has hair growing out of it. Doesn't it?"
He looks at me and grins. "Yeah it does. That is a hairy fucking supermola. That thing collapsed on itself at some point and blew the fuck up. Stage four shit. Am I right?" He giggles. "She needs to go see George Lucas and have the Death Star laser that fucking thing off. I might puke."
I'm about to choke trying not to laugh, and I'm afraid my cheeks might explode. "You need to watch some new movies. You're going to run out of references."
"You need to watch your mouth. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go send Joel into a tailspin of chicken wings and filth."
Poor guy. I feel bad for Tommy. I can tell he genuinely cares, but Joel needs to get over it. What? Tommy can't talk to me anymore? If Joel is that petty, Tommy needs a better friend. It's not like I dated him for a year and then dumped him. It was just a little joke. I'm irritated at myself for doing it, but he has to have hurt other women as well. Women who didn't just fuck him in a bathroom of a bar, having their hair pulled and all their wildest fantasies come true.
Jesus Christ. Get it together, Quinn. You have to face him this morning.
Shit.
I suddenly remember how I look today. Of all the days he would see me, I look like this. I'm trying to think of some way I could make myself look presentable, but nothing comes to mind. Fuck it. It's not like we're going anywhere anyway.
I walk back over to the bitch brigade.
"That man is delicious with a capital D. Word is he knows his way around the bedroom too." Madeline rakes her hand through her hair.
"Who told you that?" I say it before I realize the words have escaped my mouth.
Natalie, who I refer to as Madeline's bitch—in my mind of course—responds. "Someone heard it from the boss lady in IT."
Relief washes over me and I have no idea why. Megan must have told someone. Which I'm sure she found out through Tommy, or me. I can't remember. At least I know he hasn't fucked anyone from the office. It's hard enough walking around my house knowing he's banged his way through half of the inhabitants.
"I would let that man do whatever he wanted, to whatever he wanted," says Madeline.
I've had about all I can take when I look up and see Joel piercing me with those beautiful green eyes. My chest caves in. If my heart is capable of fluttering, it does that too. It's like a weight is pushing down on the top of my head and anxiety, fear, and excitement are all coursing through me, penetrating every organ in my abdomen. I've never felt this way about a man, ever.
Joel and Tommy walk toward me.
I keep telling myself that I need to get rid of these feelings, because there will never be anything between us. I have to play it tough. I can't let him know that there is any part of me that wants him. That shit is like gold to manipulators like him.
"Quinn." He nods. "Nice to see you again."
I stop breathing when I hear his voice.
Fuck.
Tommy smiles. I look down, and he's tapping his foot up and down rapidly. Say something, Quinn. Why can't I speak? Don't sound like an idiot for the love of god. I glance up at Joel trying to burn into his soul with my retinas.
He returns my stare and then turns to Tommy. "Well, I was nice, Tommy. Like I promised." He turns back to
me. "You have a great day, Ma'am."
Tommy's face goes into his palm. My face is on fire. This prick is not going to talk to me like that. Ma'am? Goddamn it! Ma'am? You, arrogant fucker.
I snarl at Joel's back as he starts to walk away. "The kitchen is that way." I point in the opposite direction of where he's walking. "We laid out a gluten free spread. Some of the women get a little bloated around here. If you're worried about that type of thing."
That's right, dick. I fold my arms over my chest and stare at his back as he freezes. You're being an asshole to the wrong chick.
Tommy looks like he's trying not to giggle.
Fortunately, the bitch brigade is out of listening range. But those women are experts at reading body language.
Joel turns around slowly. A forced grin is covering his beautiful face. He walks back and leans in next to my ear. "Well, personally, I find gluten free food to be a tease. I prefer eating the real meal at the other table. While the gluten free finger foods sit jealously, at their lonely table, watching me devour their friends who provide an entire, satisfying meal."
"Oh fuck," whispers Tommy.
Joel leans in closer and I know he can feel the anger radiating from my body.
"Fuck me, please don't—" Tommy whispers again.
"In fact, I might just have to go back for seconds. I don't think I'd have any problem grabbing another plateful." He pushes some stray hair back over my ear, and I want to melt into his hand. Then he opens his fucking mouth again. "I love your hair like this, very natural. Like a messy, working woman type vibe. It suits you."
He smirks and I lose my cool. My eyes wander around the room and nobody is looking. Without realizing it, my fist clenches and I rear back and pummel his balls with a right cross. It's an instinctive self-defense maneuver my dad taught me when I was very young.
He drops his papers all over the ground as he doubles over at the waist, somehow managing to hold onto his laptop. Tommy is damn near catatonic, and then his face turns bright pink and he is covering his mouth, trying not to laugh. Joel is bent over at the waist coughing, trying to figure out what just happened.
I'm still shaking, but the shame of what I just did is building up inside me. This fucking prick just knows how to push my buttons. He gets under my skin like nobody ever has. He makes my blood boil, to the point it's uncontrollable.
The Panty Whisperer: The Complete Series Page 11
