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Charity's Warrior

Page 15

by Unknown


  Within seconds, he begins to empty into my glass. I stop licking him and put my mouth on the straw, making him watch as I drank him down with my Red Bull and vodka, each pump of his cum disappearing up my straw and down my throat. The look on his face is intense, holding back a scream as if frozen in place, fists clenched, hips pumping.

  I tug on him until he is too sensitive to touch, and the thrusting of his hips completely stops. When I let go of him, I see some of his cum dripping down my thumb. With him watching, I suck my thumb clean, running my tongue over it until it’s gone.

  "I'm just never going to be able to get that out of my mind," he said, his breathing coming in massive gasps. “I’ll be thinking about that for the rest of my life whenever I use a straw.”

  "Good," I said as I stood. "That's exactly what I wanted." I smile at him satisfied, and motion for him to stand up.

  Once he’s up, I gently grab his softening cock, caressing it with my fingers for a second, and stuff it back in his pants for him, pulling his zipper up. I gave his pants a little pat, and we both laughed.

  Justin placed his hand on my cheek and kissed me softly. "This kind of thing, whatever it is we're doing, it doesn't come easy for me," he said. "I want it, but I really don't know how to do it."

  My heart skipped, and I was sad for him at the same time.

  "It's okay, I'll show you," I said. "I'm not afraid to let you know when you’re fucking it up."

  His laugh filled our private little room.

  "Right now we're just two people getting to know each other—you don't owe me anything," I added. "I'd love for it to go someplace, but only when you're ready."

  I see the pressure clear from his face as he wraps his hand around mine and leads me out through our curtain. We both felt closer, safer, with each other after sex. It made a bond between us.

  Having any kind of bond with anyone was exactly what terrified Justin. In the past, having sex released him, freed him, but with us it was tying us together. I can feel it as much as he can. Where I can embrace that, for him it’s a donkey kick to the back of the head, something he was not used to at all. It’s getting easier for him, though. Each time it’s a little more comfortable.

  We stayed in the lounge and ordered two more drinks at the bar. Before long, the music has us moving together again, subtle bumps and touches putting us back in the mood. His hands glide on my waist and lower back, melting into me. His eyes are always searching me.

  "You know," I started, "I didn't get to scream tonight, and I want you to make me scream. So let me know when you've recovered, because I want you to take me back to your place, tie me down to your bed again, and make me scream until I pass out.”

  Justin smiled. It was a sexy, evil smile. "Just remember, you asked for this." He took me out by the hand, really pulling me.

  We were already downtown, so the cab ride was going to be quick. We didn't waste any time getting hands between our legs and our lips pressed together. It made the time pass quickly, and an instant later we were in the lobby of our building, frantically pressing the elevator button. A car came to take us up, and we behaved ourselves for the security camera, which was not easy since we had worked ourselves up into a frenzy.

  Justin had his key out before we reached his door. We stepped in and he locked the door behind us.

  "Take your shoes off now!" he demanded.

  It was partly a joke about the last time I was here, I could see that in his smiling eyes, but for the most part it was a direct command. He wanted them out of his way.

  As I pulled them off, I felt him yank at the zipper on my dress. He whipped the whole thing off me, pulling it over my head effortlessly and leaving me standing there in nothing but my Victoria Secret bra. His skilled hands remove that, too, undoing the clasp and yanking it off me without care. I step toward him but he stops me to run his hot hands down my chest and pinch both of my nipples.

  "Do you want me to touch your clit?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "Not good enough!" he barked. "Beg me! Plead with me to put my fingers in you. Demand I service you."

  "Touch me! Feel how wet I am for you," I begged. "I need you to make me cum."

  He quickly pulled the belt off his pants. "Hold out your wrists," he said.

  I obeyed and he tied them together with his belt, leaving the long end dangling like a leash, which he grabbed and then pulled my arms up over my head, holding them there roughly. His other hand offered balance, gently caressing my chest, the skin of my side and underarm, slowly tickling me down my stomach. A single finger gently slipped between the wet folds of my pussy and found my aching clit. He rubbed it up and down as I moaned in relief and ecstasy.

  "Your clit gets so hard. Do you like when I touch it like this?" he whispered.

  "Yes, uh huh," I moaned with my eyes closed, biting the inside of my lip.

  He pinched it lightly before he took his fingers away, and all I could feel besides my arms with the blood draining from them as they hung over my head, was the tingling aftermath of his touch.

  "Don't stop!" I shouted. "Put your finger back—please!"

  Justin obliged. My clit felt like the tip of a stiff rod. I don't recall it ever being this swollen before in my life. It was sensitive from every angle that his wet finger moved, and I need it to explode.

  A few moments passed and my knees are feeling weak. Justin removes his finger again and I growl at him as he lowers my arms. He begins pulling me by the leash like a prisoner, leading me to his bedroom. Below my hard clit, I can feel the wetness that is dripping out of me as we walk. I am ready for him, ready to be tied to his bed and fucked.

  Hard!

  We crossed into his room, but as I aimed for his bed he jerked me to a stop by my restraint. Strong hands spun me back toward the door face first, pulling my arms up again, and I see him throwing the leash end of his belt over the door. Then he closed it and I realize I am now chained upright and bare-assed on his door.

  "What are you doing?" I ask.

  He ignored me. I see his clothes landing piece by piece on the floor beside us. Shirt, shoes, pants.

  Oh thank Christ! I want this!

  Suddenly, I feel his hot and very hard cock press onto the crack of my ass, his bare chest against my back. He runs his hands down my arms and into my hair, winding it up in a bunch that he can hold and pull, and that’s just what he does. He tugs my head back and licks my neck.

  "You're going to cum soon, and it's going to be huge," he whispers. "I'm going to wind you up until you scream, just like you ordered."

  His other hand slides down my back as his body moves away from me a bit so he can put some momentum behind his swing. He smacks my ass stiffly and licks my neck and ear. A few more spanks had me stinging pleasantly. I feel him maneuver himself, and he thrust his hardness into my pussy from behind, pulling my hair each time he thrust into me.

  "Oh, God! Fuck me," I begged. "Fuck me hard!"

  He reaches around and grabs me by my pussy, pressing my face and chest into the door and fucking me like an animal. My clit twitched as he found it with his fingertips again, stroking it while his cock bangs me.

  "You feel so good. It feels wonderful inside you," he growls.

  "Make me cum! Fuck me and make me cum!" I squealed back.

  Justin stopped, pulling out of me, but before I could protest, he was on his knees crawling and turning between my legs, his mouth sucking on my clit. His tongue slashed up and down.

  I screamed, feeling my orgasm coming, and then Justin slipped his fingers in me. I didn't usually cum standing up, but it was building. He smacked my cheeks and ran his hand through the valley of my ass, lightly touching my anus. It sent an electric spasm to my pussy. The fact that I liked it embarrassed me, but I couldn't move away, and he knew it. I was his prisoner. I didn't want him to stop, but I was afraid to let him know that.

  He did it again, his mouth sucking my clit, fingers torturing my G-spot, and a gentle touch on my asshole. I sc
reamed uncontrollably, letting out my secret. My knees threatened to give out, my hips fucked his face. There was no denying it now.

  I humped his face wickedly, screaming that I was going to cum. My solid clit popped and snapped under his flicking tongue, and my juices ran down my legs. The back of his head was banging against the door as I fuck against him, but he didn't stop tickling my ass and ramming my pussy.

  "Holy fucking Christ!" I squealed.

  My body is rupturing; there is no other way to describe it. My thighs are a quivering mess, struggling their best to keep me up. The only sounds are my incoherent screams of ecstasy and the thumping of Justin's head into the door, which only serves to turn me on more. I completely seized under is relentless tongue.

  Spasm after spasm erupted. My arms yank at the restraint, desperate to break free and control his head and mouth because I am too sensitive, it was too intense, but I am at his mercy. I cannot even close my legs because he is between them and they are holding me up. The control was his, and he brought me to the furthest point I'd ever been until I finally crashed over the waterfall.

  And it was a waterfall, because I had never seen so much run out of me before. My wetness is dripping down Justin's face and throat. The fingers he has in me, that entire hand is soaked and it is dripping down his wrist and forearm.

  Once my screams died in to moans, Justin climbs out from between my legs and turns me to face him, twisting the belt still closed in the door. With no gentleness at all, he grabs me by my legs and ass and lifts me up around his waist. His hard cock slipped right into my wet heat without any trouble as he slammed my back against the door.

  He growled like an animal. "I've never been so turned on in all my life," he said, almost angrily.

  I lick my juices off his chin and say, "Then fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anybody!"

  And he did. For eight or nine minutes the room was filled with his grunts and my squeals, and the banging of the door. Several times I was sure he was going to put me right through it. I couldn't move or help in anyway, so he just had his way. His breath sped and I thought of a way to help now that he is close to his climax.

  "You're close to cumming for me now, aren't you?" I said. "You made me so wet, Justin. I've never came like that, and now your cock feels so good ramming in and out of me."

  He growls his approval.

  "Fuck me harder, Justin! Fuck me through this door! You feel so damn good."

  For an instant I'd thought he'd hurt himself. His face is twisted up as if in pain, but then he lets out a long orgasmic scream. He holds me, growling, until he’s done and then lifts me off his dripping cock.

  As he reached for the door handle, I noticed his entire body was trembling and so is mine. When his tired hand turns the handle and pulls the door open, it releases me while I don't have the energy to keep myself up. I fall to the floor and Justin joins me, both of us laughing at ourselves.

  And, really, my little snort-laugh had to show up now?

  Damn it!

  "NO, YOU'RE RIGHT, I could not have been more shocked," I said honestly. "When your name came up on my phone, I just assumed you were home. I couldn't believe you were in the city."

  "I hope I didn't freak you out, Charity, I didn't want to do that. I just want to know you're okay and talk for a little bit, see where things are," he said.

  He looked so much better than I had imagined. Just the fact that he was alive is a relief.

  "Does anyone know you're out here?" I asked.

  He thought about it deeply for a moment. "No, I guess not."

  He must've seen the concern on my face.

  "I wasn't good, I'll admit that. For a while after you left I was in real bad shape. I didn't think I was going to get over it, it just didn't seem possible. And, okay, I'm not there yet, but I'm in a better place than I was," he said convincingly.

  "Then why doesn't anyone know where you are, why not check in with somebody so they know you're okay?" I asked.

  He shrugged his shoulders as if the answer was right there, obvious. "I just took some time to think about me. I wasn't worried about everybody else. I was worried about myself and what I want out of life." He dropped his head a little bit. "I was suffocating there. I think I was suffocating myself."

  It was another honest answer.

  The Grey Dog on Mulberry Street was a great place for this; I didn't want him in my apartment, not if I wasn't sure how things would go. Granted, it was going better than I expected, but there was still time for this to turn. The busy, distracting atmosphere was just what I wanted.

  "Steve, people are worried about you. I texted Melissa right after you called, so she has some piece of mind. She will tell everyone else—your parents," I said.

  Steve thought about that, testing how he felt. "That’s okay, now I don't have to do it," he replied, smiling.

  The waitress, a young blonde girl with a wide, bright smile and high pitched voice, brought us our coffee. As she trotted away she said our food would be out in a minute, which is great since I'm starved. When I left Justin's last night, I had worked up an appetite, but I was so physically exhausted that I went to bed hungry and passed out.

  Thinking about last night made me smile. I found a text from Justin this morning. It said, "Wow!"

  "So, how are you?" he asked. "You've been here for a bit, have you found a job, a place to live?"

  "Both," I said. "I've made a few friends here, and one of them got me in touch with a hiring manager that loved me and also they helped find me an apartment."

  I didn't mention that it was a man that did all that for me. He could look as healed as he wanted too, but I just don't think Steve can take it, and I didn't want a scene or fight here.

  "That's great, oh my God. Tell me about it, tell me about the job. What are you doing?" he asked.

  I was excited to talk about this with him because it was safe. "I'm the Executive Assistant for the Director of Sales and Marketing at a software and monitoring security company. The guy I work for is great, middle aged, family guy, just a great guy to work for. I do all the expected schedule keeping and arrangements, but they're getting me involved into the projects and other things. He lets me have a flexible schedule, actually he insists on it. It's very cool to be where I'm at, I can see from what we are working on, where the company is headed. My boss is impressed that I mentioned that, he said most people don't get it."

  "That's really great," Steve said.

  "Thank you. It's only been a couple weeks, but I'm really fitting in," I added. "There's a few other assistants I work with and go to lunch with, and the hiring manager that brought me in, she's just down the hall and we talk all the time. The owner I haven't met in person, but he checks in over chat."

  It was hard not to laugh at the understatement.

  "And you're all set up in an apartment now?" he asks.

  "Yeah," I said. "A one bedroom apartment that I'm basically stealing. I still can't believe how low I'm paying. Well, it's low for New York, still a lot everywhere else, but for here it's insane. I got all new furniture, the kitchen is really cute. Takes a little to get used to taking an elevator to get in and out of your home when you grew up suburban."

  "I can imagine," Steve said.

  The years of experience I had from dating him gave me an insight that he is not aware I have. His voice was off, and that meant he was faking his interest. I just didn't know why yet, maybe it’s just as simple as he doesn't care about my apartment, or is saddened by the finality of it.

  "So you did it," he said. "No chance you will be going back home?"

  "Not that I can see right now. It was looking bleak for a bit there, but now I'm right where I want to be," I answered.

  "That's good," he said. "I'm glad for you."

  "Are you?" I asked, wanting to be sure.

  "Yes, absolutely. I know I wasn't easy on you, I didn't get it. I wanted things to stay exactly as they were. But that just isn't possible, people grow and change. In fa
ct, I don't think you even changed that much; I think this was always in you. You were meant for more than our little town, more than our little group going nowhere," he said.

  It was a compliment, but it was also full of contempt for our town, our friends. I didn't like that.

  "I get it now," he continued. "I was pretty low mentally, as depressed as I'd ever been. I even thought about killing myself, like everyone is probably afraid of, but that's when it hit me. If I was going to end everything anyway, why not just end it and start something new. I didn't even have to know what I was going to do, no plan. I know you had a great plan, and that's cool, but I didn't have one, and I decided not to wait for it. I sold off anything valuable I had and took off."

  "Where did you go?" I asked. "I’ve heard you've been gone awhile."

  He sat back on his chair, ready to give his story.

  "I went south, started heading for South Carolina, maybe Florida, taking my time since I have plenty of it. I was in North Carolina in a hotel when I started thinking about you and wondering how you were doing," he said.

  Our waitress came with our food, and we paused the conversation. She was quick, thankfully, and I was shoveling eggs and potatoes down my eager throat moments later.

  "So I decided to come up here and see you," he continued.

  He was doing that thing again, saying one thing but meaning another. It was frustrating not knowing what he was really after. Obviously he did come up here to see me, since we are sitting here, but he is holding something back,

  "How long are you in the city for?" I asked.

  "Not long at all. I just came to talk, and I'll probably be back on the road tonight or tomorrow. To be honest, I was hoping you were having a tougher time than you are." He started laughing. "That sounded horrible, I know. That’s not how I meant it."

  He was finally getting around to it, whatever it was. I smiled at him while he took a mouth full of breakfast.

  The couple next to us is eating in total silence. They didn't look angry with each other; I think they just had nothing left to say. Their long, disinterested faces dance around the room, but never find each other. On a Saturday, the crowds were always a little different, less business and more friends and family, people that took the train in. A few were obvious regulars. The waitresses smiled and chatted with them longer.

 

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