by Alex Wolf
The second she gives her consent, I pick up her petite frame and toss her over my shoulder, then walk through her door.
“Oh my—”
I step into her entryway with her. “Which way?” The commanding tone of my voice even surprises me a little.
Meadow immediately points down a hallway. “First on the right.”
My heart races at how quickly she responded with the words, like she couldn’t get them out fast enough.
I take huge strides, power walking with her over my shoulder until I reach the door and take her inside. My eyes scan the room, taking in every detail. Single Queen bed, art print on the wall, dresser and mirror. She’s definitely a minimalist, but I’ll make it work.
The furniture is super nice, but sleek with clean lines and only essentials.
It’s crazy in a way. I never thought I’d meet anyone with a mind for quantitative analysis like mine. In that respect, I’d say Meadow and I are almost identical. However, I see stories in everything. On the surface, my possessions look like excess, and some are. But everything I own has a story behind it, a history that I know intimately. Meadow is all about functionality. I think that’s where we contrast the most. That’s what I love about her. We can be so alike and so different, as to remain a mystery to one another.
I walk over and toss her down on the bed. I think it damn near knocks the breath out of her because she gasps. She doesn’t have time to react because I’ve hiked her skirt to her hips and yanked her legs apart.
There’s no need to say anything. I want my mouth on her pussy, and that’s what will happen. Meadow’s eyes are huge when I glance up to them.
I’ve always maintained eating pussy is a forgotten art form, and I pride myself on being the master of it. Like any art, it must tell a story, follow the structure. There’s intrigue and mystery in the beginning, as the action slowly builds. The climax is well, the climax, then the conclusion. What she doesn’t know, is I plan on this being a series. When one story ends, the sequel begins, because I plan on fucking her until I can’t breathe.
I take my time, staring into her eyes as I remove both of her shoes from her feet and toss them onto the floor. Fuck me, her legs are soft and smooth. I want to wrap them around my face, feel them squeeze around my head as she comes undone.
My cock has been rock-hard since she chased after me at the building. If I don’t fuck her soon, I might need medical attention. I’m already worried I’m going to blow in a matter of seconds as it is.
As I work down her legs, kissing, licking, I watch Meadow’s reactions, her body language. I want to know every single thing she likes, and what she doesn’t, log every bit of data possible. I work my way between her legs, teasing up next to where I know she wants my mouth, so much her fingers rake through my hair, tugging me closer to where she needs me.
I fight back against her hold, even though I can feel the heat from her pussy next to my face. It’s almost unbearable, the urge to rip her panties in half and fuck her with my tongue.
Right when I finally graze her clit, I rise up and take my shirt off.
Meadow’s eyes roam up and down my torso.
I reach down and slowly remove her skirt first, then come back and remove her panties too.
She’s perfect.
I get the first glimpse of her pink pussy, her legs spread apart, moonlight filtering through the window illuminating it perfectly.
My nostrils flare. It’s going to take an act of sheer willpower to refrain from shoving my dick into her until after I get her off with my tongue.
Repeating the process from earlier, I work down her legs again, with a little more urgency this time, allowing the tension to build inside her. Once I’m almost there, I grip the backs of both of her thighs and shove them toward her shoulders, angling her right up to where I want.
“Hold your legs.”
Both of her hands fly forward, like she’s given up trying to fight any of this. She’s a damn ticking time bomb, and it’s going to be glorious when she goes off.
When she has her legs held in place, I grab each side of her hips, lean down, and graze her clit with the tip of my tongue, just to see what happens.
“Shit.” She draws out the word, and her legs already start to tremble.
She’s so close already.
“I could exhale across your clit right now, and you’d get off, wouldn’t you?” I use my thumb to barely stroke it this time.
Meadow’s head rolls to the side, and she bites down on the pillow, like she’s doing everything she can to hold back. “Mmhmm,” she groans while nodding her head up and down.
Without warning, I push two fingers inside her, even deeper than before.
Meadow’s eyes fly open, and her entire body constricts. I don’t know what it is with her, but I almost don’t even need to see her reaction to know what it will be. It’s like I’m already living inside her brain. Like I already know every single thing she likes and doesn’t. I can sense it.
My tongue flicks across her clit as I work tiny circles around the ridge deep inside of her. She fights back every bit of pleasure, because, well, she’s Meadow. Slowly, I work small circles, increasing the tempo as I go, incredibly aware of how close she is to her orgasm.
“Holy shit.” Her hips buck against my face.
I push her so close, I worry if it may have gone a little too far. When she starts to convulse, I bite down on the inside of her thigh, hard enough to leave a mark there.
“Fuck.” She draws out the syllable, and her nails dig into my scalp.
It’s amazing how responsive she is.
“Not yet.” I growl the words against her leg.
For the next few minutes, I do the same things I did before. Push her right to the brink, then bite down on the other side.
This time she tenses even harder, but I can tell she loves every goddamn second of it. Her body is practically humming with energy, damn near nuclear.
“I’m so close. So fucking close, Covington. Don’t stop.” She groans as she says it, short of breath, biting down on the sheets again.
I reach around, shove her blouse up, and grip both her tits in my palms. It’s the first time I’ve felt them, and like her, they’re perfect. I want to bite and mark every inch of her body, tell the whole world she’s off limits.
I focus my tongue on her clit, pushing her higher and higher, tweaking her nipples when she gets close. She’s so fucking wet I can barely stand it. My hips grind against her bed, dry fucking her mattress, just to mildly satisfy the need to fuck her. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out.
It’s time.
I ready myself, because I want to remember every minute detail of the first time I get Meadow Carlson off. My arms wrap around her legs, fingers digging into her thighs to hold her in place as I work her clit. She tries to squirm, anything to give her some kind of relief.
I don’t fucking think so.
I hold her in place, my mouth capped over her clit, tongue relentless.
“Oh God, Wells.”
She seizes up, body convulsing, and both of her hands bunch the bedsheets up in her fingers. Her chest heaves up and down, but I hold her legs in place, riding out her orgasm with my mouth sucking, licking, stroking her every way possible.
Her hips try to fly up from the bed, and it takes a herculean effort to keep her pinned down.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Finally, after several long, beautiful waves, she exhales a giant sigh. She tries to say something but can’t. Her legs are like Jell-O, goosebumps pebbling all over her body.
I don’t even give her a chance to catch her breath. With one smooth motion, I flip her over onto her stomach and pin her down with my chest to her back.
She starts to say something, but she can’t.
My mouth in her ear, I say, “Nobody else can make your body do that. And nobody else will ever fuck you the way I’m about to. Remember that.”
“Holy—”
I unzip my pants, and the sec
ond she hears my zipper, I know her heartbeat spikes even higher. I yank my pants down halfway, freeing my cock, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. I lean back from her, but she doesn’t move. She wants this just as bad as I do. I know it in my heart, feel it in my DNA.
The connection between us is undeniable. This is what we were meant to do.
I stare down at her pussy, barely peeking out under her ass, and my nostrils flare again. I’ve never wanted to fuck someone bare so bad in my life. I want to shove into her and come deep inside her, mark her as mine every damn way possible.
Somehow, my brain can still function, and I pull a condom from my wallet and roll it on. Parting her lips with the head of my cock, one last time I say, “You sure?”
I want the confirmation. I need it. It would be so easy to just fuck her, no questions asked, but my heart needs to know she hasn’t changed her mind. Eating her pussy was phenomenal, but fucking her changes everything. I’m about to feel things I’ve never felt before, and not just in a physical sense. It’s out there, swirling around the room, this magnetic field between us.
“Yes.”
The second I hear the word, I push into her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It’s even better than I imagined. Meadow’s walls squeeze tight around me and I’m already so fucking close. I don’t even care. Time stands still in this moment, like it could go on infinitely. My brain etches the data in, piling it all away somewhere, specifically for Meadow. Every memory, every sensation. She owns a part of me now, a part of me that will never go away.
I push in deep, then pull back, then push in once more. If there is a heaven, this is it. This is fucking it.
Once satisfied I won’t hurt her, I lean up over her, and clamp one of my hands down on her collar bone, digging in my fingers.
Meadow constricts even harder around me.
In her ear I say, “I made a promise. I always keep my word.”
“Holy fu—”
My hips surge forward, crashing into her ass as I fuck her deep and hard.
She reaches back and digs her fingernails into one of my thighs, pulling me even harder into her. Her nails threaten to draw blood.
It speeds my hips up even more, as wet skin slaps on wet skin, the sound echoing through the room.
“Fuck, Meadow.” My words come out on a groan, her nails fueling me even more.
“Shit, W-W-Wells.”
I fuck her so hard her words vibrate.
Right when I don’t think I can hold off any longer, I slip out of her and flip her over onto her back. I struggle with my pants, wanting to rip the fucking things from my legs. I don’t want to be apart from her for a split-second longer than necessary, but at the same time, it helps stave off the load building in my balls.
I roll to my back and yank my pants down my legs, taking my shoes off in the process. Once I’m free, I flip back over, and my mouth is on her pussy instantly.
“Oh God.” She gasps.
We both know I’m stalling, trying to hold off and keep myself from coming early, but she doesn’t say anything.
Once she’s close again, I lean upright and angle my dick down to her pussy once more.
I reach down and lightly wrap my fingers around her throat, her eyes widening as I do it. She must see the look in my eye because I feel her pulse speed up against my palm.
“You’re coming on my dick this time.” It’s not a question. I flat out tell her that’s what’s happening.
Her eyes flutter closed, and I push inside her once more. Immediately, I’m about to blow.
Fuck, how does she do this to me?
Both her hands fly back to the headboard, looking for anything to grab onto. I release her throat, and take her hips in my hands, yanking her into me as I thrust back against her. Her blouse is still wrapped around her shoulders, and her firm tits start to bounce loose from her bra.
“That’s it. Fuck me, Covington.” She bounces herself back into me as I thrust into her.
I do exactly what she says. So hard her headboard crashes against the drywall and vibrates the wall. I don’t give a single fuck about any noise we make at this point. My focus is singular; feeling her come all over my cock.
I take one hand and circle her clit as I pound into her.
“Shit.” She looks like she’s about to come so hard it puts her in a coma. Her legs wrap tighter around me, her hips grinding up and down uncontrollably.
I take my free hand and grip her chin, squeezing her cheeks so hard her mouth forms a big O. Her eyes fly open and she stares right at me. My finger circles her clit even faster as I fuck her harder and harder.
“Look at me when you come.”
She nods against my hand and clamps down on me so hard my eyes squeeze shut.
It feels so fucking good it’s almost unbearable. My balls tighten, and I do everything in my power to hold it off.
“Oh my God, Wells.” She convulses and her words trail off.
I shove into her as deep as humanly possible, groan, and blow into the condom, wishing I was coming inside her. It’s the most intense orgasm of my life. It comes in waves, and I groan and grunt, over and over, until she’s milked every last fucking drop possible.
Fuzzy stars dance in front of my vision, and I’m in a daze. A pure euphoric daze, like an out-of-body experience. When some semblance of consciousness returns, I hear myself mumbling, “Meadow. Meadow.”
I shake my head and look down at her. Her eyes are locked on mine, her chest rising and falling in huge waves as she catches her breath. Finally, I bend down and stare into her eyes, for what feels like an eternity, before our lips meet. It’s not a passionate kiss. It’s just a recognition.
It’s a recognition that something just happened between us that neither one of us can explain, that will probably set us both on a course for a massive collision, but we don’t care. We’ll run headfirst into it, heads down, no caution, because the universe is strange like that. Humanity is illogical, and as smart as both of us are, we can’t stop it. Nothing can.
Neither of us say a word, just have an entire conversation with our eyes.
I look down at her. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen every beautiful thing the world has to offer. At least I had, until I met her.
Finally, I slip out of her and walk off toward the bathroom. I can feel her eyes burning into my skin the whole way. I dispose of the condom, then walk back and lie down next to her in bed, spooning her with my left arm.
We both lie there, wondering what we just did, what it means. I know every thought going through her head right now. It mirrors my own.
How will this work? What is this connection? Do I have time to do this correctly?
It doesn’t matter. It is happening.
Eventually, I break the ice. “A bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
I can see her smile in my mind before she turns her head and shows it to me. “Can’t wait to hear this.”
I laugh and push a few sweaty strands of hair from her forehead. “Storming out of my place, when you’re up here, living the good life.”
This time she laughs, hard. “Like my place is anything like yours.”
I glance around at the room and raise my eyebrows. “Still, you’re not living in a cardboard box, and I don’t have a Bluetooth lock on my door.”
She gives me a little shove, but I yank her back into me, even closer than she was before. She nuzzles back against my neck, and it might be the most comforting thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life. “Yeah, you have a human to open it for you.”
I smile again. “Doesn’t matter. Nothing fucking matters but this.” I kiss her on the back of the neck, and we both fall asleep.
Meadow Carlson
This doesn’t mean anything. Not a damn thing.
I wake up in my bed and nobody is next to me.
Maybe it was all a dream.
No, it was definitely not a
dream. I can still feel him between my legs, feel his arm wrapped around me, his fingers on my throat.
It was just sex. Just a way to release all this rage about Mom. That’s all this was. You could’ve done far more reckless things.
I say these things to myself over and over, but I know they’re not true. Yes, it was an escape from dealing with Mom’s situation, and with my father. That doesn’t make what’s happening any less real, though.
What the hell?
I don’t know if I’m upset about what I did, or the fact I left Mom’s side to deal with Covington and made one horrible decision after another.
I’m pretty sure I hear singing. Did we leave a radio on?
I get up and wrap a sheet around myself, then yawn as I make my way toward the kitchen. The smell of frying bacon lands in my nose, and the singing grows louder.
It’s Covington, and he’s tone deaf. Honestly, it’s nice to know he has at least one flaw.
I should record it on my phone and post it to Twitter. He’d never live it down. Would definitely make the news cycle or end up on TMZ. I sneak over to the corner so I can peek in at him. He sounds so happy, even if he can’t sing for shit. Despite everything, I grin.
I love knowing I’m the one making him smile. He’s always brooding, always on, nothing but business. This feels like a quick glimpse at another side of him, possibly his real side.
We all wear masks to shield who we are from society, and I’ve learned, the more money you make, the more famous you are, the thicker the mask. When I spy him around the corner, he’s even happier than he sounded. Grinning from ear to ear, cooking on my stove.
It might be the first time it’s been used in, well, forever. I can’t believe he knows how to cook breakfast like this. I always had this picture of him as a kid, eating eggs benedict from a butler or something. Right now, he looks like he could hold his own working in an IHOP kitchen. He flips a couple pancakes at the same time without missing a beat.
“I see you watching me.” He smiles but doesn’t look over at me.
“Listening more than watching.”
“Yeah, I never did master that art form.”
