Sex God

by J. a Melville

  I watched it fall off her arms and since the dress was loose fitting to allow for her expanding stomach, it slipped easily down her body until landing in a pool of material around her feet. She stepped out of it and I was confronted with the sight of her standing before me in nothing more than a lacy navy blue thong and matching bra. She was breathtaking and I literally struggled to draw in enough air to fill my lungs as I took in every inch of her.

  “Fuck baby.” The huskily spoken words were all I could manage. Having her so near but unable to touch her, forced a frustrated growl from me. I was so hard for her I ached, my cock throbbing painfully and the blood pounding through my veins made it bob in time to my heartbeat.

  “Like what you see?” She asked, amusement gleaming in her eyes as she watched my dick twitch and leak a drop of pre-cum which dripped onto my stomach.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you really need to ask?” I growled. “I think that’s pretty obvious. Don’t make me wait too long. I need to be inside you.” My voice cracked and another drop of pre-cum welled up and landed on the tense muscles of my stomach.

  Lyla smiled and I pulled on my restraints at that smile. Something told me she was going to drive me crazy before she gave me what I needed: my cock buried inside her.

  Clearly wanting to prolong my agony, she unclipped her bra and dropped it to the floor. Free of any restraint, her breasts which were bigger now from her pregnancy, swung forward as she leaned over just a little, hooking her fingers into the elastic of her thong and working it over her hips and thighs before releasing it, where it too landed on the floor.

  Finally naked, she straightened, and as if to torment me further, she didn’t move, she simply stood there, giving me an uninterrupted view of her beautiful body, now ripe with my child.

  Again, I tested the restraints, knowing I could break free of them if I really wanted to. I did really want to, but at the same time, I was curious to see what Lyla had planned for me. It surprised me that I wasn’t panicked about being tied up. If anything, I was excited, frustrated and crazy with the need to be inside her, but not frightened or stressed, and certainly not threatened by the ties that kept me bound to her bed.

  When she walked closer, the breath I hadn’t even realised I was holding was released noisily. I looked up at her as her eyes moved over me, and I swear I could just about feel them on me like a caress against my skin.

  Shooting me the tiniest smile, she reached out and with one finger, just one fucking finger, she ran it up my cock, from root to tip, both of us watching the way it bumped over the piercings until she reached the sensitive head.

  A frustrated sound welled up from my chest and more pre-cum beaded at the tip, hanging there for a moment before spilling over and dripping onto my stomach.

  With my poor dick leaking and me going crazy, I wondered how much longer she was going to spend torturing me. When she leaned over and licked her way up my erection, circling the head before lapping up the few drops of pre-cum dotting my skin, I grunted, my body jerking and twisting as much as the restraints would allow. I knew if Lyla didn’t do something soon I was likely going to embarrass myself by coming, and I would probably do it with no stimulation either, other than the visual delight of her naked body.

  “Lyla.” I ground out her name, my eyes pleading with her to show me some mercy but she simply smiled, the kind of smile that I knew would not lead to the happy scenario of my cock inside her pussy.

  “Shay.” She replied, mimicking my tone as her smile grew wider and I growled, my hands fisting again with frustration.

  “Baby…please.” I gave up the last of my pride and begged.

  “You’re not very good at waiting, are you?” She grinned and I scowled at her tone.

  “I’ve never been put in this situation before.” I reminded her. “I have all the patience in the world when I’m the one running the show.” I ground out through gritted teeth. “You’re getting a lot of satisfaction out of tormenting me, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t answer me but I felt a wave of relief pass over me when she climbed onto the bed and immediately straddled me. When she didn’t do anything more but sit, watching me, I tensed up, convinced she was going to make me suffer through more of her teasing. Bending towards me, her lips brushed mine, her tongue sweeping across my lower lip, before blissfully, she began to kiss me.

  I opened to her, trying to take over the kiss, my tongue sliding over hers and exploring her mouth, tasting the sweetness that was just her. Her teeth nipped me and before I could react, she pulled back, shaking her head.

  “No Shay.” She warned and I heard the audible snap of my teeth coming sharply together.

  Impatiently I watched as her head lowered again, bypassing my lips this time and finding that sensitive area on my neck. From there, she began a slow, sensual trail to my shoulder, licking, nipping and kissing me. Shifting her body further down mine, she continued teasing me. Over my chest, stopping briefly to flick her tongue across my nipples, and then down my stomach, following the narrow pathway of hair that led to where my poor, neglected, aching cock waited for her to show it some kind of attention.

  As she drew closer to where I needed her most, my hips bucked up and my heart hammered frantically behind my ribs. Her eyes met mine for a moment and she smiled, a wide smile, just before she lowered her head and finally, blissfully her lips closed around me.

  My eyes closed, my body tensing as I fought not to thrust up and risk making Lyla gag on my cock. She felt so good sucking me in deeper. Her mouth a warm, wet haven and I groaned when she took me to the back of her throat before lifting her head and licking me from root to tip.

  Suck, swallow, lick, she repeated the actions until I thought I would go crazy if I didn’t get inside her soon. When she pulled away, my dick fell heavily against my stomach before bouncing back up, swaying as if beckoning to get her attention. If I wasn’t tied up I’d probably be joining it, doing anything I could to get her to stop this endless torture.

  When she moved back up until her pussy was above my cock and reached for it, holding it steady, I growled her name out; making it clear from my tone and the tension in my body that I was done with the teasing, and she’d better be about to impale herself on me.

  Smiling, she lowered, and watching the broad head of my cock disappearing between her folds was a sight I knew I’d never grow tired of seeing. Once she had taken me as far as that tight little pussy of hers could, she began to rise again and I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of me emerging, all wet and glistening from her juices.

  Up and down, she repeated the process, her movements slow and measured. It was torture for me. Watching our bodies so intimately connected, as close as two people could be, and yet she purposely denied me enough to push me to orgasm. In fact, the gentle friction provided by our bodies kept me on the edge but wouldn’t give me the release I desperately wanted.

  Dragging my gaze away from where our bodies were joined, I raised my eyes to Lyla’s face and watched the affect it was having on her to fuck me. She looked so beautiful, sexy and so fucking hot. The passion in her eyes mirrored mine, turning her irises into the blue of a turbulent sea.

  “Sexy girl.” I whispered as I watched her and she responded, her inner muscles clenching and clutching at me, forcing a groan from my lips.

  “I want to come.” She said, her voice breathy.

  “Take your pleasure from me baby. I’m here for you to fuck. Use me anyway you want me.” I encouraged her.

  She responded by increasing her pace, rising and falling on me faster and faster until she was riding me hard, her breasts bouncing.

  I ground my teeth together, determined not to come until she’d found her pleasure first, but she wasn’t making it easy. Her tormenting and teasing before and the painfully slow fucking had pushed me dangerously close to my release.

  “Let me go. Let me fuck you.” I begged, wanting suddenly to be the one controlling our orgasms.

  Lyla hesit
ated, her rhythm on me faltering slightly before she stopped, reaching forward so her breasts swayed temptingly in my face, and I sighed with relief when I felt her untying the scarf from my wrists.

  The moment I was free, my hands settled on her hips, lifting her, and as I tossed her onto the bed beside me, I rolled over, pulling myself onto my knees, reaching for her again.

  “Put your hands on the headboard.” I told her and she leaned forward, doing as I asked.

  I shifted forward until I was behind her and with one hand guiding my cock, I pressed between her legs, sliding back into her wet and welcoming pussy.

  Lyla moaned, my answering moan drowning out hers. The feel of her around me was intense. I needed to make her come. I needed to come, and with my fingers buried into her hips to hold her steady, I fucked her the way I wanted to fuck her: hard and fast.

  It didn’t take long and she cried out, her body shuddering, her pussy clenching and squeezing around my cock as she came. The feel of her milking me pushed me over the edge and I gave myself over to my own orgasm, coming hard inside Lyla.

  I thrust a couple more times, grinding against her ass as I pumped my release into her and when I was done, when we were both spent, satiated, drained by the intensity of it all, I pulled out and together we collapsed on the bed, arms clutching at one another, bodies dampened with sweat and the room filled with the sounds of our laboured breathing.

  Only then, replete, complete, we drifted off in one another’s arms. Sleeping the sleep of the truly sexually satisfied.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Lyla

  “Will you come with me to the funeral home?” Shay’s question a few days later took me by surprise. I expected him to want to go alone. Maybe even retreat within himself like he was prone to doing when things were emotionally hard on him. For someone who had been so closed off for so long, it was huge that he wanted me there, clearly for moral support if the worried look on his face was any indication.

  “Of course I will.” I assured him, pressing my lips to his cheek. “So your father died from a heart attack? It seems kind of disappointing that something so…so-“ I stopped, struggling to find the right words.

  “Mundane? Uneventful? Unfulfilling? Unsatisfactory?” Shay supplied. “Yeah, I thought someone might eventually come after him for money or something. Given his track record with money and the way he loved to spend it and then borrow, I pictured him finally being taken out by a bullet to the head or perhaps that stone cold fucking heart of his. Not that it would just give out. It’s kind of an anticlimax.” He sighed. “Still, now his body has been cleared, I just want him dealt with as soon as possible. He’s not going with my mother. I’ll be fucked if I have him anywhere near her. I need to see him though. I need to see for myself.”

  I knew what he meant and I kissed him again. My lips lingering on his cheek as I subtly breathed in the scent of his Brut aftershave. “You need to see he really is dead? Is that it baby?”

  He nodded, pulling me into his arms and resting his chin on the top of my head for a moment. “I need you there because I-“ he stopped. “I just need you there.”

  “I understand Shay. I’ll be there.”

  The following morning, he drove us to the funeral home where his father’s body was being held. He didn’t speak for the journey and I didn’t push him, understanding that he needed me there, not necessarily that he needed me there to fill his head with useless chatter.

  When we arrived we were shown into the viewing room and we were left alone with the open coffin that contained Shay’s father. As we approached it I could feel his hand becoming clammy in mine and his steps faltered, his breathing heavy as if he’d been running.

  Hearing him like that and knowing his anxiety was rising over a man who was dead, broke my heart. To think that just the prospect of seeing his body did this to Shay demonstrated just how horrific the abuse had been that he’d suffered.

  Of course, I knew it was bad. Not just what he’d told me, but what I’d witnessed. His distress, his fear and pain. If the bastard lying in that coffin wasn’t already dead, I reckon I’d have a go at killing him myself.

  As we drew closer to the open coffin, I felt a bit nervous about looking at the face of the man who had cruelly abused his own son. I’d had a bit of time to try and imagine what Shay’s father would look like. Given what he’d put his son through I expected to look at the face of a monster, but when we finally got close enough to see him, he was nothing like I imagined him to be.

  In fact, he didn’t look like anything really. His hair was a dark blonde, or it had been at one point. It was peppered quite liberally with grey. He was a slim build with none of his son’s height or strong frame. Overall, he looked disappointingly ordinary. No horns, no harsh lines and wrinkles and nothing that looked even vaguely like the face of evil.

  “What colour are his eyes?” I whispered, wondering why I was whispering. The man was dead. He wouldn’t hear me.

  “Grey, a steel grey. Intimidating, frightening.” Shay turned to me. “He doesn’t look like me does he?” Worried silvery blue eyes searched mine.

  I knew what he wanted. He wanted reassurance that he was nothing like his father. It was easy for me to nod my head because he really didn’t look anything like him.

  “No. Do you take after your mother?” I asked.

  “Yeah. We have the same coloured hair but she had brown eyes. She was Spanish. She was beautiful. An exotic kind of beauty.”

  I smiled. “I can imagine. You have that exotic beauty about you too Shay. There is nothing ordinary or mundane about you.”

  His eyes lifted from where he’d been staring at his father. “Can we get out of here now?”

  “Of course.” I took his hand, squeezing it. As we turned to leave the viewing room, I shot a final look at Shay’s father and silently cursed him to an afterlife of agony, in the fiery pits of hell.

  Three days later after Shay’s father had been cremated, we made our way back to the funeral home to pick up the ashes. From there, we were going to the house where he’d been raised. When the container of ashes was handed to us, all I could do was stare at the surprisingly small foam box. One horrible, cruel man reduced to so little that he fit into something a bit smaller than a shoe box. Kind of a fitting end I suppose.

  As we headed towards the house Shay had grown up in, he explained that there was no way in hell his father’s ashes were being scattered anywhere near where his mother was buried. Instead he was going to scatter them at the home where his father had lived for the past twenty- five years.

  Shay didn’t want the house. He didn’t want anything that was a reminder of how much he’d suffered, and he was confident his father wouldn’t have left him anything anyway. He’d been waiting for the will, convinced it would be all there in black and white, that he was to receive nothing. He was adamant that suited him. That he wanted nothing anyway.

  The shock had been finding out from the solicitor that there was no will. Clearly, Shay’s father hadn’t allowed for his own mortality and planned ahead. With no will, everything would be in probate while it was determined there were no others who were owed money or who might step forward to make a claim on the estate. With no will, it made Shay the beneficiary despite his vehement rejection of anything to do with his father’s home or assets.

  While everything was in limbo for now, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t go to the house at all. His only real interest in going there was to deal with his father’s ashes, or so he said, but I suspected he was after closure of some kind. It was only fitting that he find some way to make peace with all that had happened to him.

  The home was set on ten acres and was a huge sprawling sandstone residence. To some it was probably beautiful but to me it just looked imposing and not particularly welcoming. Of course, my feelings towards this place were probably tainted with the knowledge of what had gone on here, and how much Shay had suffered.

  When we parked in the sweeping driveway
, I climbed out, stretching the kinks out of my back. Wide steps rose before me, leading up to a large verandah that ran the length of the house. I turned slowly, looking around, glad to be out of the car. Clearly a sentiment shared by our baby when I felt him or her kick enthusiastically, the movements so much stronger now as my pregnancy advanced. It was hard to imagine that in just a few short months we would meet our child for the first time.

  “You ok baby?” Shay’s voice cut into my thoughts and I smiled at him as he watched me from over the roof of his car.

  “Yeah. It’s just someone is glad to be out of the car I think. Things get a bit squishy when I have to sit for a while.”

  I walked around the car to him and he placed a hand on my stomach, sliding his palm over it in a soothing caress. I watched his face as he touched me, pleased to see he was looking more relaxed or perhaps it was just that he was more accepting of becoming a parent now. I was sure it still freaked him out at times but I was freaked out too. We were going to be parents. Parents. A daunting prospect.

  “So I’ll try to make this quick. I have no desire to hang around here long. This house doesn’t exactly bring forth my happy thoughts.” He said, his eyes moving from me to stare up at the imposing looking house.

  I reached for him, rubbing my hands up and down his arm in what I hoped was a comforting gesture.

  “What are you going to do with his ashes?” I asked and Shay sighed.

  “I know what I’d like to do with them, but there’s a part of me inside that worries that if I do something stupid, he’ll find a way to make me pay.” He turned worried silvery eyes to me. “I believe in an afterlife and if I do something childish.” He lowered his voice as if worried he’d be overheard. “He might haunt me forever and I can’t risk that.” A blush tinged his cheeks and my heart felt shredded seeing him like this.

  “Baby, I understand.” I told him, reaching up to place my lips against his cheek. “Where do you want to scatter the ashes?”