by Sage, Aubrey
“Well, today we don’t need to do any talking about football. Let’s talk about Patricia. I Want to know more about you.”
She blushed and slid a piece of her shimmering red hair behind her ear. “What would you like to know? I’m kind of boring to be honest.”
I arched my eyebrows. “I don’t believe that at all. How about school? What are you going to do now that your graduation is over?”
“Well, I really like to help people. I was actually hoping to go to UCLA myself to study nursing.”
“Wow, that’s cool. Not an easy subject to tackle.” I suddenly drew a blank. I didn’t know anything about nursing.
“You know I was valedictorian of my class, right?”
“No, I had no idea.”
“But you were at the graduation yesterday. You didn’t hear my speech?”
This girl was sharp. I wasn’t used to picking up smart girls or girls who made obvious observations.
“Oh… umm,” I stuttered. “To be honest, when I saw you on the stage, I couldn’t stop looking at you. How could I pay attention to your speech when you looked so cute?”
Patricia gave me a playful slap on the shoulder and then crossed her arms. “Oh, stop it,” she clucked.
Thankfully, flattery seemed to work even on smart girls.
I drove her to a chic, cozy restaurant nearby called “Mackavelli’s.” I heard that they had a mean roast turkey sandwich and had been anxious to try. I parked the car and walked to Patricia’s side to open her door then led her into the restaurant to be seated.
There was only enough seating capacity inside for about 20 guests I judged, and the fine Venetian décor gave it a very exclusive feel. I ordered the roast turkey with a side of vegetables as I anticipated, and Patricia ordered chicken salad. We continued our chat while we waited for the food.
“So why did you ask me out yesterday?” Patricia questioned as the waiter brought us our drinks–iced tea for Patricia and water for me. “I’m sure you have pick-of-the-lot at UCLA.”
The truth was that it was spur of the moment. There’s plenty of good-looking girls on campus, but I don’t discriminate. When I see a girl of the caliber of Patricia, I just make my move. “I guess there was just something about you,” I said and twitched my eyebrow playfully. “Why did you say yes?”
Patricia stirred the straw in her drink and looked down. “I don’t know. I guess because you’re cute.” She grinned shyly and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear again.
“Are you a shy girl?” I asked.
“A little bit…”
I pushed forward in my chair, grabbed both of her hands and held them in mine over the table. “Don’t be shy. I’m just here to show you a good time.”
Patricia locked eye contact with me for the first time since I picked her up, and she beamed a sweet smile. It was then that I realized how truly beautiful that she really was. I had never been with a natural redhead before, and she had the slightest bit of freckles on her cheek that made her look soft on youthful. They contrasted perfectly with her green eyes.
I couldn’t wait to fuck her.
“You know you’re a lot different than what I thought you would be,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that you’re really sweet. I thought you were going to be a cocky asshole and just try to sleep with me.
If she only knew. I swallowed when I heard her words and began to feel a little bad for what I had planned for her. I didn’t really want to just try to sleep with her, but my choices were limited. In another world, I could see myself genuinely interested in a girl like Patricia, but ever since the accident–ever since I made that fateful deal–my only option was to fuck ‘em and leave ‘em. If she like me any more than that, it would hurt more for us both.
“I’m glad that I’m better than that,” I lied.
Our food arrived, and the roast turkey was better than I expected. Patricia also seemed to enjoy her meal, and as far as I could see she enjoyed our conversation as well. I found out that she was a single child, was an expert piano player and had a Chihuahua name Porky. Her last boyfriend was well over a year ago, and she broke up with him when she caught him trying to meet other girls via the internet.
“How did you catch him doing that? Did you look through his phone or something?” I asked.
“Oh no. I totally trusted him the whole time we were dating. He ended up sending a canned message to one of my friends, and she recognized him. I was shocked when she told me.” She bit down on one of her last bits of salad. “So when was the last time you had a girlfriend?”
“I haven’t had a girlfriend since high school.”
“Oh really? And why did you break up?”
“Because Satan made me.” I’m not sure why I told her the truth, but I knew she wouldn’t believe me and I wanted to see the reaction I’d get by being honest.
Patricia laughed. “Oh really? And why did Satan make you break up with your girlfriend?”
“Because I made a deal with him– in exchange for my life.” I realized I was getting too deep and didn’t want to ruin the mood if she questioned me further. I shook my head as if I was rattling myself out of a haze and tried to change the course of discussion. “Really, it was just time for us to go our separate ways. I couldn’t give her what she needed anymore, and I needed to be alone.”
Patricia dropped one eyebrow, clearly confuse as to why I switched gears so suddenly, but then she just nodded and we finished up our food. Thankfully she didn’t press me any further about Sam or the reason why we broke up.
“What’s with all the tattoos?” she asked. “What do they mean?”
“I used to hate tattoos.” I explained. “But after the accident, I realized you only live once. Why not just go all out? Now I get one ever time I win a game.”
“That would explain why you have so many.” She chirped.
When we were both satiated, I took her to a park nearby where we walked around and talked some more. I didn’t feel that I had quite worked her up to the point that I should bring her home, so I needed to continue working on her. We circled the walkway of the park and commented on the various people who were walking their dogs and shared stories about our lives. Most of mine were stories that occurred after the accident, stuff about football and my plans to join the Seahawks someday.
After we circled the first time, Patricia grabbed my hand.
It was cute. I hadn’t held someone’s hand genuinely like that since when I was with Sam, and in a strange way I liked it. The touch of her tiny fingers turned me on and made me feel comforted, but I started worrying the minute that it happened. If I was going to sleep with her, I needed to do it as soon as possible. It was clear that she liked me, and I was really starting to like her, but the more that we continued, the more it would hurt when I let her go.
“Do you have anywhere to be today?” I asked.
“No, I’m free.”
“I was thinking that maybe we could go hang out my place if you have the time.”
Patricia thought for a few seconds as we continued to walk. “Where do you live? Is it far from here?”
“No, not at all. About 10-minute drive. I can take you back home whenever you’d like.”
She sucked in a big breath of air and then let it all out. “Okay, I’ll go.” I felt the pressure on her hand squeeze increase when she agreed.
I could tell that she knew I wanted sex. She wasn’t dumb. And part of me wanted to tell her to run away, go home, forget about me. I was The Wrecker, and the only possible outcome from all of it was that I was going to wreck her heart.
But another part of me wanted to rub my hands over her lanky, 18-year old body, feel her feminine skin, see if she was hiding a bush in her panties that matched the red on her head. It had been too long since I dipped my wick, and I needed a release.
We got back in my car and Patricia continued holding my hand the entire way, stroking it slightly with her thumb as if she we
re petting me in some way. No one had ever done that to me before.
I pulled into front of my house, shut off the car, and we both got out.
As soon as Patricia stepped on to the cobblestone driveway, she stretched her arms out and eyed my abode up and down. “Well, I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I expected nothing less from you.” I walked inside the entrance and Patricia followed me. “Your place is amazing.”
“Thank you,” I said. Would you like something to drink?
“No, I’m okay.”
I motioned towards the living room. “Go ahead and make yourself at home. I’m going to grab myself a bottle of water. I’ll be right back.”
Patricia trotted off towards the living room and I headed for the kitchen. I opened my subzero refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Dasani. As I walked back towards the living room, I chugged on my drink and considered my game plan moving forward. I thought I’d turn on the TV and slowly cuddle in close to her to warm her up, but when I returned to the living room, my plan changed.
Patricia was gone.
I sat my Dasani down and walked down a hall until I found her standing stationary, admiring one of the hallway paintings that I had purchased, a mostly black and red abstract painting that one of the UCLA’s art students had been selling on campus. I thought it was good representation of my personality, strong but chaotic.
“It’s beautiful,” Patricia said as I pulled up behind her.
“Yeah, it is. I like it,” I replied. “But not as much as you.”
Patricia turned around with glistening eyes, and I threw all thoughts of warming her up further out the door. I pressed her against the wall, causing the painting to rattle, and pressed my lips against hers hard. At first she seemed shocked, inhaling a heavy breath through her nose as our mouths intermingled. Her hand stretched out, grasping for the wall, and it mistakenly hit my painting, causing it to fall to the ground and shatter the glass frame.
I didn’t care.
Patricia’s soft hands reached up and grabbed my face, and she purred as my tongue burrowed into her. She reciprocated, looping her tongue against mine, creating a whirl inside each other’s mouths.
I was so turned on that I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to take her right there. I pulled away from her and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to spin around with my hands, pressing her face-first against the wall.
My hands whipped around to her front and unlatched the button on her short shorts, then I squatted slightly and yanked her shorts down towards her ankles, the force causing her panties to slide off at the same time.
Finally, I could see her pale, white ass. It was dying to be spanked, and I did just that. A single hard smack on her left ass cheek caused her to jump and yelp.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day,” I hissed in her ear, and I could hear her panting heavily, maybe even a little scared.
I spanked her again, this time on her right cheek, and she inched up on her tip toes as she gritted her teeth in agony.
My right hand kept her pressed against the wall, while my left hand unzipped my pants. My cock was throbbing when it was set free, and I reached my hand down on to her pussy to help guide myself to her entrance. I could feel how wet she was–no matter how much of a good girl she tried to pretend to be, she was waiting for the cock; I was sure of it. Perhaps she was anticipating it all day.
I slammed my cock into her from behind, causing her to scream and shutter against the wall. For a moment, I stayed like that, fully submerged inside, feeling her warmth and her pussy stretching to accommodate its most recent guest. She was tight, and I could smell the slightest bit of sex that was driving me further into a sexual rage.
Again I slammed into her, and again, and then I began my deliberate strokes. I reached my hand around to her face and forced it to turn around just enough that I could suck on her lips while I fucked her. “Your pussy feels so good,” I murmured.
Her face was red and she was breathing heavily, but she was so quiet.
“Does that feel good?” I asked.
She scratched her hands against the wall but she didn’t reply.
I pulled away from her lips and pounded harder into her, slamming against her ass, sending her a message, telling her that she better talk to me or else. “Is that how you like it?” I asked.
Still silent.
I grabbed her tightly by the hips and crashed against her, almost as hard as I could, but also paying mind not to harm her delicate body.
Her fingers scratched against the wall again, and she lifted herself onto her tiptoes, feeling almost as if she was trying to run away. Her legs tensed, and I could feel the pressure in her pussy shifting. “You going to come, baby?”
She bobbed her head slowly but didn’t say a word, and then her body began to writhe and heave below me. Her legs trembled as she came and eventually went completely limp to the point that the only thing supporting her was my hands holding her by the waist.
I looked down to the sight of her soft ass splashing against my cock, and I could see the little whisks of tiny red hairs poking out from her pussy. So cute. So helpless. I could feel my balls tightening and I hammered into her a few final forceful times before I pulled out and spewed jets of white magic all over her back and crack.
I breathed heavily, and Patricia fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding the broken glass. She lay there staring with wide-eyes at the ceiling, panting, her chest heaving heavily. I surveyed the destruction–scratches on the wall, glass everywhere, a ruined painting and a girl fresh out of high school who looked like she may never walk again.
They call me The Wrecker after all.
“Are you okay?” I asked to Patricia.
She shook her head yes, but her face remained blank and she didn’t move.
“Do you want to shower?”
She shook her head no, but she still didn’t move a muscle.
I pulled up my pants and headed towards the nearest bathroom to grab a towel. When I returned to the hall, I reached out my hand and helped Patricia to her feet. “Be careful not to step on any glass.”
When she stood up, I wiped my cum off of her and she seemed like she was starting to regain her senses a little bit.
“Can I use your restroom?” she asked.
“Yeah, of course.”
I lead her down the hall to the bathroom, and she gave me a slight smile before she closed the door.
While she was in the bathroom, I grabbed a broom out of a nearby closet and started sweeping up the glass. What had I done? I felt incredibly relieved to have fucked Patricia, but I felt incredibly bad as well. She was a great girl–certainly not like the girls that I picked up at clubs, and the truth was that I really liked her. I could see myself growing into having a genuine relationship with someone like her someday.
I took the scraps of broken glass and my tattered painting to a trash can near the living room, and when I sat them down Patricia returned from the bathroom.
“Hi,” she said shyly and slid a piece of hair behind her ear. Her face was blushing, and she was looking off to the side.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing… I just…” She paused and finally faced me. “Does this me that we’re together now?”
My heart sank. She looked so small and vulnerable standing there in front of me, asking such a naïve question, and I wanted to just step closer and wrap my arms around her.
Destroy her, a voice hissed.
It was him. It had been so long since I had heard his voice, so long since I met anyone of interest.
“Don’t make me do this,” I thought to myself, knowing that he’d be able to hear me.
Come on Wrecker. Wreck her heart just like you wrecked her pussy. Do it, you bastard!
“I don’t want to do it. Don’t make me hurt her.”
You don’t have a choice. We had a deal.
I decided to ignore him. Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe I was hearing voices
just because I had hit my head during the accident. Besides, what could he really do to me?
“Come on, babe. Let’s go talk about things in my garden.” I gave her a warm smile and reached out to grab her hand.
The moment I touched her was the same moment a large shatter of glass could be heard through from the back of my house. It was so loud that both of us ducked.
“What the fuck?” I snarled and stormed back in the direction of the sound. Patricia followed me nervously. Room by room, I pushed opened doors, looking for the source of the noise, until I arrived at one of the guest bedrooms on the lower floor.
Inside of the room, the double-pane window has been busted opened, and laying on the floor was a large rock, black and steaming with heat. It was so hot that the wood floors surrounding it had been slightly charred.
“Holy shit!” I shrieked.
“What is that?” Patricia asked. “Why is it smoking?”
“I don’t know. Maybe some kids around the neighborhood are vandalizing things.” I looked out through the hole in the window, and the garden in the back yard looked untouched. How I wished it were vandals, but I knew it was him. It must have been.
“How could someone throw that in the window? It would burn their hands.”
“I don’t know, but…”
“Should you call the police? Maybe someone is trying to break in? Either way, I think I should go home.”
“Yeah, ok,” I replied. “Let’s go to the car.”
I took a deep breath and we headed for the Ferrari.
Do it, Mitch. My patience is waning.
I continued to ignore the voice, hopped in the car with Patricia, and started down the driveway into the street. A broken window and a ruined floor was fixable–I could live with it.
Patricia grabbed my free hand while I drove towards her home. “Thanks for everything today. I had a lot of fun. Sorry about your window... and your painting.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I don’t usually have sex with someone on the first day. I hope you don’t think I’m a slut.”
Call her a slut Mitch.
“No, of course I don’t think you’re a slut. And I had a great time too.”