by Amy Faye
She let the water run hotter than she would have liked, and then stepped in and pushed her head in under the water, letting it stream down on top of her head. She blew out and sprayed water against the wall of the bath.
A knock came at the bathroom door, and Shannen's voice called in.
"You alright in there?"
He never asked her anything like that before tonight. She almost took it, for an instant, as something approaching an invasion of her privacy. An invasion that she had to admit she couldn't dislike.
Answering, on the other hand, was another matter. Her mouth didn't want to open. He knocked again and repeated the question. Caroline held herself up with one arm pressed firmly into the wall and tried to make herself feel like she could stay standing. Dutifully, her body continued to keep her upright even as her mind worried over how long she'd be able to keep going.
The sound of the doorknob turning didn't alarm her, though some voice inside her told Caroline that it should have. She dimly wondered whether or not she'd locked the door. Dimly wondered whether or not it much mattered at that point. She stepped away from the wall unsteadily and let the water hit her, digging little dots of screaming warmth into her flesh. Her fingers rubbed at her stomach, but the feeling of wrongness remained.
The door opened. Shannen filled it, his shoulders broad, and she dropped to her knees in spite of herself. Caroline looked weak. Looked like she couldn't handle herself. That made her feel worse than anything else could have, and yet, she couldn't stop herself.
Her body shook as she squatted down, her eyes making a careful examination of the porcelain tub around her.
He pulled the curtain back. She could hear him doing it. And then the air seemed to go out of him.
"You didn't answer," he said. He didn't make any special effort to close the curtain again, though she guessed that water had to be splashing onto him. "I got worried."
"I'm okay," she said, though she thought it wounded like a lie.
"You don't look very good," he said, doubtfully. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I have to be," she answered simply. "What other choice do I have?"
He let out a long breath and leaned against the wall, suddenly seeming much more tired than she'd realized he was. He looked almost as bad as she did, She didn't know how she was going to deal with it if he weren't in control of the situation they'd found themselves in, either.
"Is there anything I can do?"
Caroline let her butt slip back until finally her weight fell off her feet and she was sitting in the tub, and then leaned her back against the angled floor. Water splashed on her. She knew she was showing more than she should have. She didn't much care.
"Shannen?"
He looked down at her, his eyes almost showing something approaching sympathy, which was more than a surprise to her. "If you need me to leave," he started, but he didn't move. She knew he wouldn't until she told him to, and she loved him for it.
"I think they were going to try to…" She didn't finish the thought. The water burned, but she didn't feel it in any meaningful way.
"I'm sorry. I should have been smarter. Should have protected you better." His voice was low and hoarse and he looked at her like he felt sorry for her. That, she didn't love. She hated it. Her jaw jutted off to one side.
"I can't get it off. His fingers."
"What happened?"
"Nothing," she said. "Nothing really."
"But something did happen," he said. He knelt down. If he wasn't getting water splashed on him before, he definitely was now. Part of her mind occupied itself watching his shirt darken in the wet as he reached over and touched her face. She melted just a little bit into that touch.
"They held me still, and the big one, he…"
She traced the line. She could still feel it. Her hands did nothing to rub the feeling away. The stain went deeper than her skin, but even the skin felt as if she'd touched something oily and unpleasant.
"Just like that."
He leaned in and pressed a kiss against her forehead. That got him wetter, still. The water splashed across his back, across his head, wetting his entire body.
"I'm so sorry," he said. He looked sorry, too. Caroline couldn't have imagined what a sorry expression looked like on his face. Now she couldn't stand it.
"Don't say that." Her voice sounded hard. She shouldn't be snapping. He did nothing to deserve it. But she snapped, all the same. "I don't like it."
He let out a breath and pulled back. She wrapped a soaking arm around his neck, grabbed him by the hair and pulled him in closer.
"Don't talk to me like there's something wrong with me."
"There's nothing wrong with you," he said. He didn't just sound like he meant it. He sounded like he wasn't sure how she could have come to the conclusion. Maybe he wasn't.
"Then don't look at me like that," she said. She tried to make it sound like an order, tried to make it sound like she had some measure of control over herself.
His expression sank. "Then how should I look at you?"
She looked at him, then, her own expression burning with emotions that she couldn't name. That she didn't necessarily care to. All she knew was that it was hotter than the water hitting her, and she needed it. Needed to get it out of her. Needed to keep it in.
Her lips crashed against his and she pulled him deeper into the tub. He didn't react at first. His body was stiff and uncertain. That must have been a first for him, particularly where girls were involved. Caroline felt a visceral, animal satisfaction at that idea. The idea that she was his first at anything at all. Like she could claim it from him. The way he'd claimed so much from so many other girls.
He didn't seem to need a second prompting, pulling away and peeling off the knit shirt that he wore, soaked most of the way through. He tossed it away and it was discarded in the corner.
"Get up," he said. His voice was hard, now, commanding. He worked the clasp on his belt buckle, loosening it and then tightening it all again.
"No," she answered. She looked up at him with wild eyes. "I'm not gonna."
"You'd better get up," he said. The threat behind the words went unvoiced, but she shuddered regardless, enjoying the idea that he could threaten her. That he would threaten her.
She knew he wouldn't put her at risk, and that only made the threat of trying something that much more enticing. To see where he would push her if she dared him. Knowing that he would push.
"Don't wanna," she said. The feeling of lifelessness had faded, she realized, and it had been replaced with something else. It might have been desperation but she would take what she could get.
"You won't like what happens when you're disobedient," he told her.
"Oh yeah?"
She climbed up onto her knees, leaning against the tub and looking up at him through her eyebrows, daring him to try something, anything at all.
She dug her fingertips under the waistband of his underwear and looked at him, curving one eyebrow upwards.
"What are you going to do about it if I don't listen?"
He put a hand on her head and she knew immediately what his plan was. She pulled down and freed his hardened manhood from the offending garment.
"What's this?"
He looked down at her with an expression that bordered on scary.
"You're about to find out," he said. One of his hands touched the side of her head, almost helping to guide it without giving her any instruction just yet. The other took one of the hands that hooked the underwear in his own, and she let him guide her on what to do next.
29
Caroline let Shannen guide her hand. She'd seen it all before, of course. There was no shortage of dirty magazines around, and no reason to doubt that she should be more than capable of figuring out how the interaction of a man and a woman would go.
She'd learned a long time ago that reading things in books wasn't enough to teach you about the reality of the situation, and it was no doubt going to be the exact
same here, as well. His hand guided her to his hardness. She'd felt it before, she knew, but this time seemed different. There wouldn't be any interruptions, and if there were, Caroline wasn't sure that she was going to let that stop her.
This time was also different, she thought, because she could see better. No longer was his shaft stuck between them, her hand jammed in between to give him a little bit of pleasure.
She moved her hand up and down, and his foreskin glided up and down the shaft. She'd never spent much time looking at men's cocks, but this was her first time seeing one uncut and it was strange, yet fascinating. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the undulating flesh. She didn't want to.
His breath started to quicken. She could hear it in his voice, hear the arousal and how close he was to finding some answer to the need that was no doubt building in him the same way that it had built up inside of her.
His hand, still holding her head, twitched, not quite pulling her towards his cock. She knew what he wanted, though, even if he wasn't going to ask her for it directly, and she moved closer, looking over. She took an experimental lick along the shaft and he shivered.
Emboldened, Catherine let her tongue trace another line up and down his shaft, leaving a wet line. His fingers scraped along the side of her head, his fingers not quite clutching at her hair.
"Jesus," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "That's…"
"You like that?"
He closed his eyes. "You know I do."
"Tell me what you want," she said.
"And you'll give it to me?"
"Anything you ask me for."
It occurred to her an instant after she said the words that there might be lines she didn't want to cross. She cast the thought aside. There might have been, but she wanted something else more. She wanted him to control her, to take her. She wanted to give herself up.
Some part of her seemed to believe, distantly, that if she could only give herself up, she wouldn't have to worry about anything else. Her body ached at the thought, and she knew only one thing would satisfy that ache. Instead she opened her mouth and tried to take his shaft between her lips, careful to avoid her teeth scraping the sensitive flesh.
Above her, Shannen gasped, and this time his fingers did dig into her hair, his need overtaking whatever self-control he might have tried to exercise otherwise. "That's it," he said as she bobbed her head deeper. "Just like that."
She tried sucking gently, applying a little pressure as she pulled away, the head coming out of her mouth with a soft 'pop.' Then she took it back inside her mouth and moved her head again, moved it faster, taking him inside her throat, enjoying the sounds that he made as she did so. "You like that, huh?"
He didn't answer, except in the way that his hips rocked to meet her mouth as she moved forward, taking more of him in. He filled her mouth, now, threatening to press into the back of her throat. She could feel him filling up her throat, could feel his hardness threatening to cut off the flow of air.
She let it. The more that he moved the dirtier the felt, and yet at the same time the less that everything else that had happened mattered. The less that the rest of the world could affect her.
He pulled her mouth off of his cock, and she looked up at him expectantly, her mouth lolling just a little open, knowing that in a moment she was just going to take him inside her again.
"I'm going to fuck your throat now," he said. His voice was still low, still hoarse, still thick with need, and she didn't need to be told twice. "Open your mouth and hold still."
She did as she was told, and he held one hand at the back of her head, the other hand guiding his shaft towards her mouth. She stuck out her tongue and said 'ah.' His hips moved forward so suddenly and so roughly that she pulled away as much out of reflex as out of anything else, her throat trying to tighten up to keep him out.
His hand, firmly planted on top of her head, kept her head still, and her body reacted in a thousand ways all at once. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel from all this, but she knew what she did feel, and she knew that she wanted more of it. Her pussy felt as if it were going to start throbbing.
Catherine coughed and sputtered as he pulled out of her mouth again, his hand loosening on her head.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded, her body starting to tingle at the way that he was using it, taking whatever he wanted. She like it more than she was ready to admit to herself. She wanted him to keep doing it.
"Good girl," he said, and she shivered again as his hand clamped on her head and his cock touched her lips and then passed into her mouth. He moved slower this time, testing the limits of her mouth. Testing the limits of her throat. She could feel her body tightening up and trying to reject his movements.
Caroline, for her part, did what she could to avoid the feeling, to force her body to keep control of itself. It was her body, after all. She was in control, not it.
The reward he gave her was more of what she wanted, more of what she needed. More of the feeling that she was being used for something. That she was being put to use.
Something about the way Shannen moved, the way that he claimed his own pleasure even as he stopped to ask her if she was hurt, told her that she was being put to the correct use, if there was such a thing.
He thrust into her throat again, letting out a choked groan even as she made a choking noise of her own, and she thought that she felt him stiffening to orgasm. And yet, when she relaxed her throat, readying herself to receive his seed, his fingers dug into her hair and pulled her face off. She slipped from her knees and fell back, her head narrowly avoiding the wall, and he leaned forward over her, propping himself shirtless over her by one arm.
The expression on his face was almost pained, his jaw tight and his eyes closed up tight, his entire body tense. His stomach twitched and his cock twitched along with it, but for an instant nothing followed. He grabbed her head again, roughly, and pulled her forward. She scrambled to get her body underneath her as he thrust.
"Fuck," he groaned. This time he didn't manage to hold himself back. His cock pressed itself against the back of her throat and then his body spasmed, his fingers dug into her, and he shot himself straight down her throat, bypassing the need to swallow altogether. Her body shook and shuddered as he did and she realized dimly that she was dangerously close to spent herself as well.
When he finally let her go, his hands shaking, he stumbled back onto his butt, seated on the closed toilet seat, and heaved breaths in and out.
"Jesus," he growled. "That was…"
"Is that all you're going to do to me?"
Her body felt like it was pulled as tight as a bow-string, and she knew that she needed a release. More than that, she knew exactly who she needed it from. He gave her a smile that had no laughter in it.
His expression was closer to a wolf looking at a lamb, and it made her shiver with anticipation.
"Not even close," he growled, and pushed himself up. Caroline's smile widened.
30
Caroline was, first and foremost, a nurse. Which was why, when he pushed the knob for the shower to 'off' and she stepped out, letting him guide her by the lips towards her bed, the first thought that she had was that on average, it took half an hour for a man to be ready to go again after an orgasm.
During that time, her mind told her, most men expressed a sense of satisfaction and a disinterest in sexual activity. For some it could be less; for teenagers, it might be as low as fifteen minutes on average, whereas for men in their twilight years might need as much as a day before they were really interested and able to maintain an erection again.
She couldn't even say where she'd read the statistic, except that it had stuck in her mind, however unlikely. The fact was, though, that regardless of what the statistics said, she couldn't ignore the electric feeling that shot through her as Shannen's teeth bit into her neck, as his fingers started to explore her body, pinching and rubbing and seeming to be all over the place all at once. She shi
vered at his touch, leaning her back into him. He rewarded her by nibbling her earlobe, a sensation that she couldn't begin to describe, except that it was overwhelming and more pleasurable than it had any right to be.
"You like that, don't you?"
Caroline nodded in spite of herself. "Yeah."
"You're going to love what comes next, then," he said. He pushed her forward and she turned as she fell onto the bed, her breasts pooling on her chest and his eyes immediately flicking down to them. He rested one palm on her chest, seeming to feel the weight of it in his hands, seeming to enjoy the way that it filled his palm.
Then he pulled away, pinched her already-puckered nipple, sending a shock of pleasure through her body that started at her head and shot straight down to the lips of her womanhood. He pressed between her knees, spreading them out with his thighs until she could feel him just about lined up with her, his cock already starting to stiffen against her even though only a few moments had passed.
The feeling of it pressed against her, slick with her saliva, was inexplicably erotic. the thought of what was to come next filled her mind, filled her thoughts, filled every expectation. She shivered and let her eyes flutter shut. When she opened them again he leaned down and pressed another rough kiss against her throat. She knew it would leave a mark, and yet somehow, she didn't care. She'd cover it up in the morning, if need be.
She tried to move his hips with her legs, wanting him to make a move, to take her where she lay. He held firm looked into her eyes. "You're sure about this?"
"Sure about what," she asked. She tried again, in vain, to get him to move forward, to try to take him inside her, and he again refused to be moved.
"You know what."
"Just shut up," she said. "Shut up and fuck me, please."
"Tell me you want it and I will."
She looked up at him with a pouting expression. "I want you to fuck me, pretty pretty please, Shannen. You will, won't you?"
"You know I will. You know I can."