by Amy Brent
“It’s hard to be seriously psychoanalyzed by someone sucking that loudly on a straw,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I told you, I just wanna have sex with Logan Clark before I leave for Chicago in a month. That’s all there is to it.”
“I’m not so sure,” she said, slowly nodding, giving me her ‘all knowing eye’ stare. “I’ve seen you chase guys before, Court. You’ve never gone to this much trouble just to get laid.”
“Maybe I just like a challenge,” I said. “It’s not like I’m falling in love with him, Mindy. I just want to have sex him. So please, cut the psychoanalysis before I punch you in the tits.”
“Okay, session over,” Mindy said, holding up her hands. She glanced at her watch and picked up her lunch tray. “I’ve got to get to class. Don’t do anything crazy without checking with me first. There are stalker laws in this state, you know.”
“Very funny, Dr. Ruth,” I said. “I’ll see you at home.”
I watched her make her way through the crowded cafeteria, the short girl with dark curls and a heavy backpack thrown over her shoulder.
Mindy was going to be a fine psychiatrist someday, though I would never admit to her that my fantasies about Logan Clark sometimes did include more than just sex.
I knew it was foolish.
I would be leaving in a month.
I wasn’t looking to start a relationship.
I just wanted to get laid.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Logan
Two days went by and I couldn’t get Courtney Shaw off my mind. Even though I hadn’t seen or heard from her since she tossed the stained thong on my desk and sauntered out of my classroom, she was constantly there when I closed my eyes to sleep or just tried to turn off my brain at the end of a long day.
I found myself sitting on the couch at midnight with a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other, blurry eyes directed at the TV but not watching it, my brain in the bedroom with her.
I knew it was pointless to be thinking about her in such a way, but I couldn’t help it. She refused to get out of my mind. The image of her smiling up at me with her fingers around my cock and my jizz on her lips played over and over in my head on a loop. Try as I might, I couldn’t turn it off.
I had spent my days wondering what it would be like to bury my cock deep inside her and my nights dreaming about doing it. I wanted to feel her warm, soft skin at the tips of my fingers. I wanted to roll her plump nipples between my fingers. I wanted to taste her lips and lick her pussy and feel my cock slowly slipping inside her.
Fuck!!!
Even the alcohol didn’t quell my desires or hamper my thoughts. If anything, it made things worse, because the more I drank, the more I thought about her. And the more like shit I felt the next day. Even Tom Brooks noticed the dark circles under my eyes and the puff redness of my cheeks. He had shot me a disapproving look in the hallway this morning, knowing that I was preaching the sins of alcohol to him while baptizing myself in it.
I knew why it was happening.
It was the age-old temptation of man that dated back two thousand years.
I was Adam and Courtney was Eve, holding out the delicious red apple, tempting me to take a bite even though we both knew such things were forbidden by our Lord Golden State University.
Or was she really Lucifer, just using Eve and the apple as tools through which to draw me into temptation, knowing that I would eventually give in and all hell would break loose.
It’s the curse of man: we want something we can’t have.
And knowing that we can’t have it just makes us want it even more.
For men of questionable faith and values, men like me, there comes a point where willpower and consequence are thrown to the wind.
There comes a point where my cock impales itself deep inside her womb and I fill her with my toxic seed.
There comes a point where pleasure is served and consequence begins.
I should have never gone into that restroom.
I should have never let her suck my cock.
I should have never accepted her stained thong, so pungent with her juices and tangy aroma.
I should have never laid naked on my bed with the thong pressed to my face and my hand squeezing the seed from my cock.
But I did.
I did it all.
And now it’s all I think about.
Her thong was in my briefcase at that very moment.
I tried, but I could not leave it at home.
I had to have it near me, within easy reach.
I took it into the men’s restroom when I got to work that morning and jacked-off into the toilet with the thong between my teeth and the crotch wrapped around my tongue.
Her thong was my new drug of choice.
I could not go very long without a fix.
God help me if her scent ever faded away.
I’m not sure what I would do.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Logan
Thursday night… I went straight home after work, resisting the urge to go to Goldie’s because I was afraid she might be there. I knew that the only way I could resist her was to keep my distance, to not go where she might be.
I was like an obese person trying to fight the urge to eat: I could only resist scarfing down a bag of Oreos if they weren’t in the house. I could only resist Courtney Shaw if she kept away.
I shucked off my work clothes and changed into a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. I microwaved a burrito and pulled a beer from the fridge. I took my healthy dinner into the living room and slumped on the couch to watch the news. I wasn’t really paying attention. It was just noise, a hopeful distraction.
My cellphone was on the coffee table. Midway through the burrito it buzzed with a text message. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and picked up the phone.
The text message was from a number I didn’t recognize.
The text message read: Can I cum over?
I stared at the screen.
The cursor blinked at me.
I read the text again, then leaned forward to brace my elbows on my knees. My hands were shaking.
I typed in: Who is this?
She instantly typed back: You have my thong :o)
Fuck.
I licked my lips and stared at the screen.
I read the first message again: Can I cum over?
I quickly typed: Sorry busy goodbye.
I sent the message and tossed the phone on the coffee table, as if it had burned my fingers. I picked up the beer and took a sip. I held my breath and watched the screen, waiting for a reply.
Hoping for a reply.
The phone buzzed. I leaned forward to read the message.
RU 2 busy to open the door?
I blinked at the message, frowning at it with the beer bottle at my lips. What the hell did that mean…
Then the doorbell rang.
Lucifer had arrived.
It was now up to Adam to resist temptation.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Courtney
I was already parked at the curb in front of Logan’s house when I sent the first text. I typed in and deleted a dozen variations before settling on: Can I cum over?
It was cute and suggestive.
Hopefully, it would make him smile.
And maybe a little hard.
I hit send and waited for his reply.
I’d been sitting there for several minutes, watching the house, making sure no one else was following him home. Mindy’s comment about California’s stalker laws came to mind.
I smiled.
I wasn’t a stalker, not in the legal sense.
I wasn’t psychotically obsessed with Logan Clark, nor did I mean him any harm. I just wanted to sleep with him. And I knew he wanted to sleep with me. But if he blew me off this time, I’d take the hint and move on. I’d be sad, but I wouldn’t bother him again.
My phone buzzed. He texted: Sorry busy goodbye.
I smi
led. A pathetic attempt at resistance if I’d ever seen one. I gave him a minute to stew, then got out of the car and went to his door.
Standing on his porch, I sent: RU 2 busy to open the door?
I imagined him reading the message, perhaps excited and a little frightened that there was just a wooden door between us now.
I held a finger to the doorbell, took a deep breath, and pressed the button. I heard it ding inside the house.
I took a deep breath and stepped back.
What happened next would be up to him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Logan
I opened the door and there she was, literally the girl of my dreams, standing just a few feet away, so close that I could smell her.
Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled with promise. Her tongue went across her plump lips, making them shine. She was wearing a long black coat and stiletto heels. Somehow, I knew that the only thing under the coat was her luscious body.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, glancing past her to the street. “Someone might see you.”
“No one will see me if you let me in,” she said playfully. My eyes couldn’t resist going up and down her. She had her hands in the pockets of the coat. The coat wasn’t buttoned, but it was cinched at the waist by the belt. She brought her hands to the belt and grinned at me. “I’m getting a little warm in this coat. Should I just take it off out here?”
“No, please, don’t do that,” I said. I could hear the panic in my voice and I knew she could to. I stepped aside and motioned her in. I stepped to the edge of the porch and looked up and down the street. Thank God, I did not see a blue Honda Accord headed my way. Sheila wanted to come over Friday night, but it would not be unlike her to stop by for a quickie between out-of-town games.
“Nice place,” she said as I closed and locked the door.
“Courtney, you can’t be here,” I said, holding up my hands. “We can’t do this.”
“Yes, Logan, we can. And we must.”
The coat came open as she turned to face me. She shrugged it off her bare shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
The breath caught in my throat as my eyes took in her beauty. She was nude, as I expected her to be. Her tits were large and milky white. They hung from her chest, but were round and firm. Her areolas were dark, the size of baseballs. Her nipples were pink and plump, large and suckable. A neatly-trimmed vee of red curls directed my gaze to her clit and pussy lips.
My cock grew hard, pushing out the front of the running shorts.
She glanced down at it and licked her lips.
Without another word, I closed the space between us and pulled her into my arms. The moment our lips touched, I knew we had reached the point of no return.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Courtney
I let the coat fall away and stood naked before him. If he could resist me now, he would be the first to do so. Every lover before him took one look at my big tits and round hips and red bush and fell over themselves to get to me.
Logan looked at me like a deer in headlights. I was a little sad, really, watching him try to resist. I knew there were a thousand thoughts going through his mind. He wanted to fuck me, but he was afraid of anyone finding out and losing his job. I’d never do anything to get him in trouble. This night would be our secret, now and for always.
His desires slowly overtook his fears. His cock grew hard before my eyes, pushing out the thin material of the running shorts. It was at that moment that I knew he would be mine.
He moved quickly, taking me into his arms and pressing his lips to mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth, hot, wet. He tasted like Mexican food and beer… I sighed. I loved Mexican food and beer…
His hands went around my waist and clutched my ass. His fingers dug in hard, kneading my fleshy cheeks, pulling me into his hard cock. I tugged at the t-shirt he was wearing. As he pulled it over his head, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of the shorts and pushed them down his legs.
“Jesus… fuck…” he moaned as his cock sprang free and I took it in my hand. I cupped his balls with my other hand and slowly starting tugging on him, rolling the skin over the rigid shaft.
The head of his cock was thick and round. I swirled it against my tummy. It left a little trail of juices on my skin.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he said, his lips at my ear, his teeth nibbling my earlobe, his hands massaging my tits.
“Yes,” I sighed, feeling the hot flow of my cunt. I brought the head of his cock to my clit and swirled it around. “I want you to fuck me, Logan. I want you to fuck me hard.”
“You want me to slam my big cock into your sweet pussy,” he said.
“Yes…”
“You want me to fuck you till you scream…”
“Yes… please…fuck me…”
He grabbed my ass again and pulled me into him. I got on my tiptoes and spread my thighs. His long cock slid across my pussy, making me jump at the tingle. I lowered myself onto his cock, straddling the long shaft like the bar of a bicycle.
“Fuck, your pussy is so hot,” he said, his lips on mine, breathing into my mouth. He put his hands on my waist and rocked his hips, sliding his cock in and out from between my clenched thighs. I shuddered as the head of his cock rolled under my clit, then slid all the way to my asshole. My pussy lips cling to his shaft. My hole gushed hot juices over him, soaking his cock and balls and the insides of my thighs. My scent filled the air.
I reached around and dug my fingernails into his ass. He moaned at the pain.
“God… Logan... you’re going to make me cum…”
I moaned the words into his ear as my pussy slid over his shaft. I could feel the orgasm building from deep inside me, like the spark of a fire about to become an inferno. When his shaft slid over my clit again, I couldn’t hold back. I grabbed onto his shoulders and lurched my hips into him. I gushed hot juice over him. It dripped from my pussy like an overflowing gutter during a hard rain. He grabbed my ass and pulled me hard into him again as I came.
“Yes, baby,” he said. “Cum on my hard cock. Show me how much you love having my cock between your legs.”
I clung to him until the orgasm passed. I put my lips to his chest and struggled to catch my breath.
“I want to fuck you now,” he said, squeezing my ass so hard I moaned. “I want to jackhammer my cock into your tight, sweet box.”
“Then shut up and do it,” I said, gazing up at him with a dreamy smile. “Fuck me, Logan. Fuck me now…”
CHAPTER NINETEEN: Logan
I scooped Courtney up into my arms and carried her into my bedroom. She wrapped her arms around my neck and nibbled at my jaw as I pushed open the door with my knee. The place was a mess, of course. The bed was unmade, the sheets hadn’t been changed in… ever, clothes were strewn about the floor, crap was everywhere. All I did was sleep and fuck there, so I never saw the need to clean the place up. I’d never really considered the place home anyway.
I set Courtney on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss her lips. She stuck out her tongue for me to suck. Her hand immediately went to my stiff cock, still slick from her juices. She slid her hand back and forth quickly, as if she was trying to make me cum. She pressed her lips to the tip of my cock and moaned.
I put my hands on her cheeks and closed my eyes to focus on not cumming so soon. What she was doing with her hands and lips felt amazing, but I wanted to come inside her sweet pussy.
“I want my cock inside of you,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders to push her back. I put my hands on her ankles and lifted her legs up, resting her calves against my chest. She playfully rubbed her feet to my cheeks.
“Squeeze your tits,” I said as I reached down to guide my cock head into her hole. She was hot and wet. I swirled the head around, lubing in up, then pushed it to her opening and put my hands on her knees.
“Fuck me…” she said, her hands kneaded her tits, leaving red marks on the milky white globes. She
took her long nipples between her fingers and tugged on them, pulling them from her breasts, turning them deep crimson.
I rocked my hips toward her and slid my cock deep into her pussy. She moaned as the breath gusted from her lungs. It was the most amazing feeling, the tightness of her pussy around my girthy cock. It was as if her pussy was gripping my shaft, like tiny fingers, squeezing and milking me.
I held on to her legs and rocked my hips in and out, shoving my cock into her hot, wet box as far as it would go. When I felt the tip of my cock hit her cervix, I pulled out until the head appeared at her lips, then slid in again.
“Fuck…” I moaned. “God... Courtney… your pussy… is so... fucking… tight.”
“Tight… young… pussy…” she moaned. “God… I love… your… big cock inside me…”
I could feel the orgasm gathering in my balls with every stroke, building the pressure, like a volcano preparing to blow. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on making her cum first.