by Alexis Shore
Patrick grabbed her upper arms and pushed her away. She looked at him with big, wide, aroused eyes, as he forced her back into the locker with a loud clang.
His face was so close to hers now that he could feel the harsh intakes of breath she was taking, and the way her eyes flicked from his to his lips, her mouth pouting and swollen, wet in the light.
Her musk filled his nostrils, and his cock felt bigger than ever.
She moved to kiss him, but he pulled his face away.
At the same time, he urged his hand down the front of her pants, slipping his fingers into her panties and quickly finding her clit. She was so wet for him, that clit so big and wanton. He massaged it with no grace, rough and ready, loving the way it made her face contort and flush.
“Is this what you want?” he hissed into her ear.
“Yesss,” she moaned, as he fingered her more now.
She swallowed, and let out a little purr of contentment, he eyes closing as her head clanged back into the locker door.
His two fingers pushed past her creamy lips, penetrating her with such ease that she swore softly, taking them deep.
Amy reached out and grabbed his cock with both hands through the towel, cupping it. He started to rock his hips, gyrating into her palms, as he began to finger fuck her slowly.
She tore the towel away, and with her head back and eyes closed still, she wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, and the other around the tip, letting him stroke between her fingers to the same faster rhythm as his fingers inside her.
“Oh fuck,” she gasped as he curled his digits, finding just the right spot, loving the way she felt around them, loving how tight she gripped his fucking prick in her hands.
She let go, and grabbed his balls, pulling them down and rolling them in her palms with eager fingers.
He moved closer, feeling her tits pressing into his chest, knowing he wanted them in his mouth now, and started to finger fuck her with more vigour.
“I wanna fuck your tits,” he said harshly.
She let go and dropped to her knees, shivering as his fingers slipped free. Her face hovered close to his aching hard prick, and she clearly had to resist the urge to push her mouth over the tip. Instead, she yanked open her shirt and threw it away, before unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor.
He reached down and grabbed them in both hands, too large for even his huge palms. Her nipples were massive and hard against his touch, and together they squeezed them around his prick.
And he started to fuck them
Slowly, with deep, lunging thrusts.
She let go with one hand, plunging it back into her panties and finding the spot he had vacated.
He looked down, seeing his long, fat cock enveloped by her perfect, big tits. Her nipples were rubbing into him as he fucked them, and she was fingering herself so fast now, he could hear how wet she was for him.
Her eyes were wide open, looking up at him with such longing, such wanton lust, and he knew this was wrong.
Which just made it even more amazing.
He let go of one tit, and grabbed her ponytail, pulling hard, making her wince with delight.
“Filthy whore,” he hissed.
“God yes,” she moaned.
“You’ve wanted this forever.”
“Yesss.”
That just made his prick swell even more, and she started to finger herself even harder now. She was about ready to come, he could tell, and he wanted to see her face when it happened. So he yanked her hair hard, making her look right up at him.
Her pupils were huge, those eyes glistening and moist. And then she closed them, and opened her mouth, jutting her chin out in arousal, gasping for air, swearing, grunting and moaning, before her whole body stiffened and she went silent for a moment.
Before letting out a guttural, contented grunt.
The way she looked when her orgasm embraced her was too much, and Patrick felt his prick twitching between her tits, felt his spunk shooting out in thick creamy ribbons, some hitting her in the chin, the rest landing on her perfect tits.
She started to massage his come into her skin, and he pulled her up, plunging his face between those luscious globes, licking and kissing, finding each nipple in turn and sucking hard. All the while, two fingers deep inside her again, he bought her to another orgasm.
And when she was done, he had to hold her on her feet, so weak were her knees. She looked into his eyes again, now a mix of deep arousal, confusion, guilt, and fear.
He kissed her.
Deep.
She responded.
And then she didn’t.
She pushed him away and ducked out of his grasp, grabbing her bra and shirt as she did so. Before he could say anything, she was trotting away in shame.
Great work Patrick, he thought to himself.
And then smiled as he remembered the way her tits felt around his prick.
But things had just got even more complicated.
Fuck it.
Three
Amy looked down at the electric blue dress lying across the foot of her bed. She didn’t feel like wearing it, and she didn’t even know why she’d agreed to this in the first place.
The cool evening air tickled at her naked skin, and she sighed deeply.
The past few days had been a blur of confusion, arousal, betrayal, and fear; a heady mix that made her dizzy, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten.
Maybe a meal would be good for her.
Or maybe her low blood sugar levels were helping her make bad decision after bad decision.
She looked into the open closet and saw the box in which she’d stashed the bearer bonds. Then she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, spying her breasts, so plump and firm, her nipples still hard. It’s like they’d been hard ever since ...
... well, anyway.
Amy had too much to think about.
She’d run away from the locker room the other day, not out of shame or guilt, but because she had found herself melting into Patrick’s kiss so much that she was afraid she would never emerge from it.
And life at the moment was complicated enough.
She didn’t need to make it worse by falling for exactly the wrong man.
As the hours passed, she tried to convince herself that he’d made a move on her in an effort to muddy the waters. He had something over her, and she had something over him. Was he trying to create a stand-off?
And then she remembered it had been her who had stepped to him, her who had pushed her lips to his nipples, her who had reached down and grabbed his massive prick, her who had wanted him so much in that moment. He’d been saying the right things, the exact opposite of what she’d been hearing from ...
... his brother.
Amy realised she was standing there with her hand between her legs, all four fingers rubbing into her moistening pussy. The memory of that moment was still so delicious and real.
And wrong.
She’d run from the locker room, dragging her clothes back on, and sought out Jennifer, who she found in the lounge watching a ball game with the rest of the company. She had no idea what to tell her, or if she should tell her, but being in her proximity was enough to calm her racing mind.
And the few calls they went out on throughout the rest of the watch had been distractions enough too. At least they had kept her out of Patrick’s way, for which she was thankful, because she didn’t know if she could keep her hands off of him.
Shift over, she had come home to find a note on the table. A note that meant she was now staring at an electric blue dress wondering if she should even bother.
Amy realised she was still rubbing herself.
So she stopped.
Examined the glistening wetness on her fingers.
Swallowed back the urge to rush out to Patrick’s house and fuck him senseless.
Her gaze flicked to the drawer of her bedside cabinet, and she shook her head, trying to f
ocus on what need to be focused on.
On one side she had those bonds, still unsure what to do with them, or even how she could go about using them; on the other side, the contents of that drawer.
And behind her the note, in front of her the dress.
Amy suddenly felt trapped, and in that moment felt like she knew how Patrick must feel when he was in the throes of a panic attack.
The walls were drawing in on all sides.
She padded out of the bedroom and found herself in the kitchen, looking at the note on the table. With a sigh, she picked it up and re-read it, hoping to find some new meaning in its words.
“I’m sorry,” it began in Joseph’s scrawl. “And I think I have a solution. Meet me at 8 in Fernando’s. I love you so much x.”
There was nothing else to be deciphered. It was an apology, and an offer of help.
Amy scratched her naked butt cheek.
And then gave it a stinging spank. The sound rung out around her, and she loved the way it felt.
The clock told her she should be getting dressed by now, so she strode back to the bedroom, steeling herself to get ready.
Once there, she opened the drawer and pulled out her dildo. Big, pink, and thick.
She had time.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opened her legs really wide, reaching down to finger at her pussy lips, feeling their creamy wetness, rubbing it into her clit and letting her body relax into the inevitable. She hadn’t come since the locker room, and it was impossible to ignore it now.
She stroked the tip of the toy up and down her lips, feeling them open and spread around its curved surface, listening to the little puckers and clicks of her wetness. With her other hand, she grabbed her breast hard, squeezing it and finding her nipple, which she pinched tight and rolled from side to side.
A little, soft moan eased from her mouth.
She began to rock her hips, rubbing her pussy against the dildo, slowly, ever so slowly, working it inside, all the while her mind conjuring images of Patrick, his prick teasing her there, and she desperately wanted him inside her.
With a gasp she pushed the dildo deep into her pussy, holding it still inside, feeling her muscles stretch and take it. She licked her lips, pinched and rolled her nipple, and then began to work her wrist, bringing the toy out and pushing it back in with long, silky slides.
She remembered Patrick’s fingers inside, remembered the heat of his prick against her face, remembered its shape and girth, its warmth between her tits. Her hand was working harder and faster now, and she could hear her own wetness loud and wanton. She fell back onto the bed, bought her feet up to the mattress, her knees in the air, the dildo so deep within her now.
Patrick loomed over her in her fantasy, using his weight to penetrate her, pushing his dick so far into her she swore and felt her orgasm so close now.
Her whole body rocked and stiffened, and the waves of delight washed over every last nerve ending, making stars dance in her vision. She let go of the dildo, and felt her pussy pushing it out, landing with a wet flop between her legs, her chest was heaving, her skin coated in a film of sweat. The only other orgasms that had been better were the ones in the locker room.
Amy took a deep breath and swallowed, sitting up and looking at the crumpled dress next to her.
It was time to put it on.
She arrived at the restaurant half an hour late; but Joseph was nowhere to be seen. And so she took her seat at the table, alone, and still wet from her masturbation, fiddling with a breadstick rather than eating it.
She got lost in thought, images of Patrick dancing in her mind, the thought of what she could do with those bearer bonds, how she could deal with the panic attack situation, and back to sucking Patrick’s dick deep into her mouth once again.
Fuck she wanted him.
And there was is brother, standing in front of her with an apologetic smile on his stupid face.
“Shift overran,” he said, and took his seat.
They sat in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, and Amy felt the need to break it.
“Good day?”
“Not bad,” he replied, taking the chance to stare at her cleavage. The dress did nothing to hide it.
“How’s Patrick?” she asked, and couldn’t believe it had come out of her mouth.
Joseph shrugged.
“Seems okay. Spoke to him earlier. He asked after you.”
Amy felt her heart race.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Joseph shrugged again. “Probably just wondering what you’re gonna do about his ... condition.”
Amy cursed Joseph under her breath, not wanting that to be the reason Patrick had asked. Knowing almost certainly it wasn’t. More likely he was trying to find out if Joseph knew they had nearly fucked.
“Let’s order,” he said and summoned the waiter.
When he was gone, Amy realised she was uncomfortable that Joseph was treating this like a normal date night. The last time they’d seen one another, they’d had a blazing row and not spoken since. And now she was supposed to pretend it was all fine and dandy?
“Look,” she said, folding her napkin in irritation. “What’s this about?”
“I told you.”
“You wrote me a note,” she nearly spat the final word.
“I said I’m sorry,” he held up a hand. “But hear me out. I think I have a plan.”
“For what?”
“Well, do you even know what to do with a bearer bond?”
“I’m sure I can do an internet search.”
“Fine, but I asked around. It’s easy enough to cash them in.”
“So you don’t want me to get rid of them now?”
“Not at all,” he cocked his head and smiled. “I reacted badly. The more I thought about it, the more I realised the money would be useful.”
“Even though it’s not mine.”
“No, it’s not ours,” he conceded, and she noted the deliberate change of pronouns. “But like you said, as far as anyone else knows, they’re ash.”
“You sound more sure than I feel.”
“The point is,” he fingered the stem of his empty wine glass. “We could both make use of that money.”
“So you want some?”
She heard the bile in her tone, and didn’t regret it.
“More like need some.”
“You don’t need money.”
“I have a confession to make.”
Amy felt the butterflies in her stomach launch and flutter in a frenzy, putting her on edge, genuinely not knowing what was about to come.
“We need to get out of town,” he said, so matter of fact Amy realised all she was doing was blinking, not processing what he said.
“Huh?”
“I’ve been stealing morphine,” he continued, speaking like he was telling her about his day. “And selling it on. I think they know, and we need to get out of town and go into hiding.”
“What the fuck?”
“You heard me,” he said, with a force and venom that shocked her. She’d never seen this look on his face before, and it actually scared her.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes you are,” he said with an evil smile. “Otherwise I’ll mention the bonds, and you’ll be in a cell next to mine.”
“Fucking hell Joseph.”
“Or we cash in those bonds, go on the lam, I get a job, and you use the money to keep house.”
“Keep house?” she said with a whispered harshness. And then she realised why they were in the restaurant; it was so she couldn’t erupt.
“The way I figure it,” he spoke in that same casual tone, and it made her more and more angry. “I’ve got a week at most to arrange it all, then you come with me and we start again.”
Amy felt her whole world crumbling beneath her feet. Until this evening she thought things were bad, now they were unbearable.
“Not a fucking chance,” she heard herself say, and wit
h that she tossed her napkin on the table, got up, and left the restaurant with a poise of calm dignity.
All the while, her insides were churning so much she felt like she was about to vomit.
Halfway down the street, with the cool evening air cooling her sweat soaked, hot skin, her phone buzzed. She yanked it out of her purse and read the message from Joseph.
“You have six days.”
Four
Patrick sighed as Jennifer’s mouth engulfed one of his balls.
He hadn’t intended on letting this happen; and yet, here they were, getting intimate again.
Ever since being with Amy in the locker room, he had resolved to end it with Jennifer, and keep his distance from Amy. Both relationships were wrong, for different reasons. So many different reasons.
But the way she sucked his ball was too nice to stop right now.
He pushed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes, wondering how Amy’s mouth would feel down there. He kidded himself that it was her doing it now, and felt his cock stiffen even harder. And that made Jennifer reach to it with one hand, start to pump it in her little fist, squeezing against its stiffness.
Patrick moaned, having to concentrate a little so as not to say the wrong name.
He felt the fat flesh of her wet tongue glide up the underside of his cock, and he reached down to stroke through her auburn hair. No, her red hair, he corrected. Urging her mouth onto his tip, he pushed up with his hips and felt her sucking down on him.
Her pussy lips were rubbing into his calf, and he could feel her wetness against his skin as she humped his leg, all the while feasting with an aroused hunger on his prick.
Patrick let out another moan, encouraging her to keep going.
She did, and he imagined Amy’s delicious tits pressing into the top of his thighs as he held her head still and started to fuck her face. He was getting more forceful now, and Jennifer was moaning with delight, which bought him out of his fantasy.
He let go of her head, and she continued to pleasure him orally. But he could feel himself losing some of the ardour now.
And so could she.
She let him out of her mouth with a wet slobber, then slid up beside him, pushing her tongue into his ear and grabbing his prick, starting to wank him with a firm wrist. She suckled his lobe, and hissed into his ear.