by Max Monroe
I wasn’t sure if that really had anything to do with how feisty she was at the moment, or if it had more to do with the three glasses of wine she’d consumed with it. But good God almighty, I thought as she looked up at me from under her lashes, the ends of her lips curling up with mischief. I was more than willing to repeat everything about today ritualistically, just in case.
“God, Mel,” I whispered and she giggled. Just the soft rasp of internal laughter, but I felt it all the way inside my bones. Her eyes danced in the low light of my living room lamp, and her mouth already looked tortured from the moments we’d spent making out as we sat cuddled on the couch in a post-meal-consumption haze.
It wasn’t hard to imagine all of that hair and the hum of her laughter wrapped around my cock as she looked up at me with those big, innocent eyes.
Shit. I wasn’t even sure I’d survive it.
Still, it was more than worth the risk.
I reached down to unbutton my jeans, but she shoved my hands away, looked up sexily, bit her lip, and shook her head playfully. “Uh-uh. That’s my job.”
Christ. My dick throbbed at the authority in her voice. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a beta personality—in fact, not at all—but fuck me sideways, the pure carnality and confidence of her tone put me on the path to climax.
Undoing the button and pulling my zipper down with a rasp, she licked her lips, reached straight into my boxers, and grabbed on to my dick with a nice, firm squeeze.
My eyes nearly rolled back in my head.
Skin to skin, she started to stroke slowly, squeezing harder and giving two soft pumps at the bottom every third pass. My hips rocked in tune with her, striving to get deeper, closer…wetter.
“Fuck, Mel,” I groaned. “Suck it. Put it in that fucking sweet mouth of yours and swallow it deep.”
She didn’t hesitate to do as she was told, opening her mouth wide, rounding her lips, and sucking until her chin brushed my balls.
Instantly, and without warning, a tingle shot up my spine, and I had to close my eyes to stave off a premature climax. I wanted to savor this—savor her. Watch her eat me alive like I was her last and favorite meal.
“You like my dick, baby?” I asked, smoothing a hand into her loose hair and tangling it with the strands.
“Mmm,” she moaned, wet and wild as she moved up and down my shaft.
Her eyes wide and aroused, almost as though she was enjoying sucking me just as much as I was enjoying watching her do it, I forced my focus to lowering the tenor of my voice until it was just rough around the edges.
“What about your pussy? What does it think of my cock?”
“Mmm,” she moaned again, and unsatisfied, I yanked her mouth off of my dick with a pull of her hair. She gasped.
“What was that?”
“My pussy loves your cock,” she clarified immediately, shifting jerkily on her knees.
“Does it ache now, baby?” I asked, bringing her mouth back to me where she began to suck on my balls.
“Goddamn,” I groaned as she took one fully inside. “Keep that up, and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you ache.”
Releasing me with a wet pop, she spoke in nothing more than a rasp. “Yes, please.”
“Is that what you want, Mel? You want me to be rough?”
She licked her lips and slid her hand down, lifted up her dress, and started to touch herself. “God, yes.”
I couldn’t wait another minute. Reaching down and sliding my arms under her armpits, I lifted her and twisted at the same time before giving her a little toss. She landed on the couch, knees to the seat and elbows resting on the back edge.
“Spread your legs and lean forward as far as you can,” I commanded. She was all too happy to comply.
I lifted her dress up over her hips and shimmied her panties down until they were stretched tight enough that they bit into her thighs. “Don’t move.”
I slid a hand over her perfect ass and hissed as I took the first step away to go get a condom. Sensing my movement, she turned to look over her shoulder in a near panic.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“To get a condom.”
She shook her head rapidly. “No. I need you.”
“Mel—”
“I’m on birth control, Will. Fuck me right now. I want your come all over me.”
Sweet Jesus. Definitely making pasta alfredo at least once a week.
Unable to turn down an offer like that, I moved back to the couch, grabbed on to her hips hard enough to make a mark, and surged inside.
A guttural moan left her sweet lips, and I had to bite my lip so hard I tasted blood to stop myself from coming right then.
Her breasts were perky and full, and I took one in each hand and pinched the nipples as I began a smooth rhythm. She gasped at the end of each stroke, shoving her hips back to meet mine violently each time.
“Faster,” she ordered.
I pumped two strokes for my every previous one and leaned forward to touch my tongue to the skin of her back. She tasted like berries and sugar and Melody, my new favorite summertime snack.
Skimming her skin with my fingertips, I moved from her breasts to her hips and leaned back to get a perfect view of her ass. The new position put me at the perfect angle. I could tell by the way her breathing came in short, keening pants.
“Oh, oh, uh, uh, ahh,” she moaned.
“That’s it, Mel. Come. Get so wet and tight that your perfect pussy sucks me in and doesn’t let go.”
Her world shattered immediately at my words, locking my dick in a vise so tight I had no choice but to come right along with her.
I leaned forward so that my chest met her back and smoothed her hair up off the skin of her neck so I could whisper there, “Feel good, baby?”
“So good.”
Pulling my cock out slowly, I watched as my come leaked out to coat the trail I left behind. Mesmerized, I reached forward and swiped my fingers through it, spreading it all over every part of her pussy, up over her asshole, and onto one perfect cheek. The feel of it on her skin pulled me in, and Melody kneeled completely still, watching me over her shoulder.
Both of us moaned when I brought my hand down on her decorated ass with a sharp slap.
I nodded. “Yep. I’m thinking we’re going to have to do this again in the future.”
She laughed; I turned serious, my eyes locked on this insanely beautiful woman still perched on her knees with her body bared and vulnerable for my eyes.
“God, Mel, you’re fucking perfect.”
I love you.
I caught the faint pink tint of her cheeks, and I smiled. Yeah, she was perfect. For me.
After a few kisses to her lips, I moved to the bathroom and got a wet washcloth to clean her up while she waited there in the same vulnerable position. She watched as I wiped myself from her skin with gentle care.
“You okay?” I asked, and once again, she nodded.
“Time for bed?” I questioned further, and her face melted into a smile.
“What time do you want your cab in the morning? You want to be late like usual or strive for on time?” I teased. She still wouldn’t let us go to work together or leave at the same time, but tonight, in this perfect moment, I had absolutely no desire to dwell on what that could mean.
She laughed and leaned in to touch her mouth to mine one more time, and that kiss turned into two. By the time we got to five, I knew she wasn’t going to answer my question.
But Mel was in my arms, happy, and on her way to at least one more orgasm for the night, and I couldn’t think of a reason to dwell if I tried.
“Here,” Marlene grumbled and tossed down a small white box onto my keyboard—while I was still physically typing on it, mind you.
But considering it wasn’t a Tuesday or a lunch she wasn’t responsible for providing, it wasn’t like she was acting abnormally.
I glanced down at the box and read the words, “Goddess Cup” aloud.
It was a menstrual cup t
hat had recently been released to the market, and I only knew that because of my job. I hadn’t ever been a menstrual cup user or advocate—which made me wonder what kind of horrible reason prompted her to give it to me in the first place. “Why are you giving me this?”
“You need to test it,” she said but didn’t offer any other explanation.
God. I just knew the reason for her unplanned air delivery wasn’t going to be a good one.
“Test it?”
She nodded and plopped her ass down into her designated chair. “Yeah. Test. It.”
What in the fuck is happening?
“This is a menstrual cup, Mar. Why would I have to test it?”
Three huffs of irritation left her lips one right after the other. Apparently, she was the one put out here. “Because I don’t have a uterus, and you do. Plus, you’re on your period this week,” she explained as if that would aid in clearing up my confusion.
Why in the hell does she know I’m on my period? Am I dreaming right now?
I closed my eyes tightly for a good ten seconds to scroll through all of the reasons that even justifiable homicide would land me in prison, and then, when I finally had myself talked out of the cardinal sin, I opened them again.
One thing at a time.
“Okay… First of all, how do you know I’m on my period?”
“Because you’re moody, and you’re eating M&Ms like candy.”
“M&Ms are candy,” I retorted, and she sighed in annoyance.
And I wasn’t eating that many M&Ms. Like a bag a day. A small bag. Well, not a supersmall bag, but like a medium-sized bag. Okay, fine. I was eating a lot of M&Ms, but Jesus Christ, I was on my period, and I had to work with Marlene and Melissa on a daily basis. If anything, they should’ve been thanking me. The M&Ms were probably the real reason I hadn’t strangled one of them to death. Fuck ten-second pep talks about being someone’s bitch in prison—candy was the game changer.
“You know what I mean,” she added with a roll of her eyes. “Plus, I saw you put your giant box of tampons in the bathroom.”
Holy hell. Was this old broad spying on me in the bathroom? Panicked, I looked around like I’d find cameras at reception, too.
“That’s creepy, Mar.”
She stared back at me unfazed. “The fact that you’d need that many tampons for one cycle is creepy.”
“I buy in bulk,” I explained for some unknown reason. “Doesn’t mean I use all of them in a month’s time.”
“Anyway…” She completely ignored me. “We promised the manufacturer that some of our staff would try their new Goddess Cup and give feedback.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to use a fucking menstrual cup.” I refused, what I thought under the circumstances was politely, and slid the box back in her direction. “I’ll stick with my giant box of tampons, thank you very much. And for the love of God, stop spying on me in the bathroom.”
“Whatever you say,” she muttered. “I mean…you’d get an extra five hundred bucks in your paycheck for it, but I’ll let Betty know you’re a no-go.”
Wait… What? Five hundred bucks?
I slid the box back toward myself. “And how many days do I have to test it?”
Sure, menstrual cups made me want to gag, but five hundred dollars seemed like a nice addition to my get the heck out of my parents’ apartment fund. I’d been saving like a penny pincher, and I was getting pretty damn close to reaching the little nest egg of savings that would get me out of Jazzercise purgatory.
“The contract with the manufacturer states you have to test it for at least twenty-four hours.”
I looked down at the box and back up at Mar. The idea of testing the Goddess Cup wasn’t exactly number one on my bucket list—more like my fuck-it list—but it was just for one day… How bad could it be?
“If I still had a uterus, you can bet your bony ass I’d be shoving those menstrual cups up my cooter for five hundred bucks without a second thought,” she stated without an ounce of shame. “Hell, if they paid per cup, I’d stick more than one of those suckers in.”
I fought the urge to projectile vomit across the nursing office. I, personally, didn’t want to think of any situation where Marlene’s cooter was involved. The fact that she called it a cooter was bad enough.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I agreed. “Is there anything I need to do before I try one? Some kind of disclaimer to read? A contract to sign?”
“Just shoot Betty an email that you’re going to do it, and then she’ll have you fill out a questionnaire once you’ve completed the test trial.”
“Okay.” I shrugged and stood up from my chair with the box in my hand. “Sounds easy enough.”
I glanced at my watch and noted the time as I headed for the employee bathroom. It was half past ten, which meant I only needed to get through the rest of the day and part of the morning tomorrow to be done with the official Goddess Cup test.
That didn’t sound too difficult. Hell, I’d be free of it before lunch tomorrow.
Thankfully, the employee bathroom was a private one-stall kind of deal, so I locked the door, got myself ready for the menstrual cup insert, and opened the box without feeling like anyone in the office was lurking around.
The instructions showed numerous pictures of the drawn female figure standing up with her legs spread as wide as they could go. I cringed.
“Good Christ in a ballet,” I muttered, wishing for perhaps the first time in my life I had the flexibility of Misty Copeland. Maybe an Olympic gymnast…someone other than me.
I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be as easy as the standard seated-on-toilet application of a tampon, so I made myself really comfortable by removing my shoes, scrub pants, and underwear and turning myself into a human frog.
Okay, I can do this.
The first attempt, well, it didn’t go so well. The damn thing flipped out of my hands before I could even insert it and bounced on the floor. Eyes wide, I took it to the sink and scrubbed it down and got set to try again. The second attempt was just a repeat of the first.
Jesus Christ, this thing was more complicated than a NASA spaceship manual.
How in the hell do women get this thing inside?
After three more attempts with all of the same results, I resorted to pulling my phone out of my scrub pants and tapping on the YouTube app. Yeah, I, Melody Marco, nurse of obstetrics and gynecology, was YouTubing “how to insert a menstrual cup.” I was a disgrace to my profession. But my hands were getting dry from washing the goddamn thing so many times, and eventually, they were going to start to miss me out there doing my actual job.
Five minutes’ worth of a tutorial later, I thought I was ready. Videos always make understanding things easier. It also helped with my mental readiness that Renee, the chick on the video, appeared quite fucking peppy and enthusiastic about her menstrual cup. If Renee loved her feminine oil filter so much, maybe I would too.
So, using Renee’s endorsement of “Everyone needs to switch to these! They make life so much easier!” for motivation, I grabbed the Goddess Cup and spread my legs like I was riding a horse.
You better not be fucking with me about this, Renee. More importantly, Marlene better not be fucking with me about the five hundred dollars. Christ, why hadn’t I considered that until now?
I made a quick mental note to call Betty when I wasn’t practically spread-eagled and shoving a menstrual cup up my vagina.
Luckily, things were going smoothly. Slowly, but surely, I had the Goddess Cup inside, and my fingers were easing it into the “settled” position.
Unfortunately, like a flip of a switch, things got real fucking ugly.
The cup slipped from my fingers a little and bam!
It popped open.
I mean, it popped the fuck open, before I’d gotten it settled.
Stars literally danced behind my eyes. Those little bastards were hand in hand doing the fucking mamba while an endless stream of curse words flew out of my mouth.
“Motherfuckinggoddammithelpme!”
Pain. Red-hot pain inside of my body. I feared I’d just killed my vagina for a measly five hundred bucks and I was never going to be able to have sex again.
What in the hell were they thinking when they made this?
I was half convinced the manufacturer was trying to kill women. Obviously, they weren’t, but holy cannoli, it was bad.
Seriously, if you think childbirth is painful, trying having a menstrual cup pop open inside of you before you get it settled.
Actually, don’t try it.
Just. Don’t.
Fucking Renee and her peppy attitude about her menstrual cup. Renee was a goddamn liar!
God, I had to find a way either to get this thing out or to get it to fucking settle. Whatever the hell that meant.
I stared down at my vagina with concern. “I’m so sorry I did that to you.”
She didn’t respond—after all, she was a few gasping breaths away from death—and I knew I had to woman up and get us out of this situation fast.
With my eyes closed shut, I reached my fingers back inside and nudged on the cup a little. Thank God, it moved with ease, and eventually, it found its way to the settled position.
How did I know it was in the right position?
Well, I no longer felt like a tiny elf had crawled inside of my vagina and was trying to physically remove it from my body.
Note to self: Never agree to test anything. Not even if they are offering you a million dollars. Don’t do it.
Once I got my clothes back on and washed my hands, I glanced down at the time on my phone and saw that it was now half past 11.
One hour.
A motherfucking hour?
Dear God. It had taken me a whole hour to put that goddamn menstrual cup in. How did women do it on a daily basis?
I had a hard enough time with tardiness at work as it was. If I used this stupid cup all the time, I’d probably have to just call off for an entire week. “Oh, hey, Will, it’s me. I won’t be in to work today. Well, actually, all week. I’ll be too busy inserting my menstrual cup.”
As I walked—well, hobbled—out of the bathroom, I set my focus on patient care. Lord knew, I didn’t even want to think about the fact that I was going to have to remove the menstrual cup at some point in the day.