by Gabi Moore
I sauntered over to him, took the gooey spoon from his hands and angled him towards me.
“I’m going to get very distracted if you keep walking around like that,” I said quietly as I traced my fingers around the edges of the apron. I could smell his warm skin, and pressed up close to him, nothing between his naked body and my naked body but the fabric of the apron.
“Oh yeah? Sounds terrible. I bet it’s this apron that’s causing all the trouble,” he said and leaned down to linger in an almost-kiss just an inch from my lips. “I should probably get rid of it.”
Off came the apron and then we pressed together again, bare skin on bare skin, lips to lips. Kissing him always felt so easy, so right. He curled his strong body around mine, cradling my head in his outstretched hands and lifting me tenderly up into a deeper kiss. I raised onto my tip toes, eyes closed to savor just how sweet it was to caress my tongue against his, how easily my skin broke into goosebumps under his fingertips as it trailed down my naked spine.
“Mmm. And what flavor is this?” I said, teasing him with my tongue.
“Felix flavor. Something new I’ve been working on,” he grinned.
“Delicious,” I said and kissed him again.
He gently raised both hands, placed them on my shoulder blades and gently pushed me backwards till my bare ass bumped into the kitchen counter. I giggled.
“What are you…”
He tore his lips away and then was back at the bowls, this time picking up a big dollop of green frosting on the spoon and then standing before me, a naughty glint in his eye. I lifted my eyebrows.
“Felix, I have an exam in three hours and fifteen minutes.”
His smile was big and easy and confident. What was I saying? Felix could make me come in four and a half heartbeats. This man knew how to pilot a half dozen specialized space aircraft, and he could whip together a perfect batch of choux pastry that could make my grandmother weep… but his real talent was knowing how to magically get me from a stone cold zero to coming so hard I could break headboards. It was uncanny. It didn’t even matter if I was tired, or if we had just had an irritating argument. Once he set his mind to pushing me over the edge, it happened.
I watched as he raised his arm up high and let the frosting drizzle straight down off the spoon and land cold and wet right between my breasts. I leaned back, elbows propping on the counter, trying to prevent the sugar glob from sliding down. He held the spoon out to the side and descended on me, pressing his way between my legs and then laying down a broad, warm, pink tongue down to lick it back up again. I squealed.
“Tastes much better like this,” he mumbled into my skin, and he was already tracing a line on my skin with the rest of the frosting, down towards my navel and past it, stopping just short of the cropped coils between my legs. Although our little apartment’s kitchen was always chilly this time of year, I felt my body temperature soaring. And although the sugar in the mixture felt gritty and ice-cold against my exposed flesh, I felt like I was already burning up. I knew what I was in for. I knew that with the look he had in his eyes right now, with the way the muscles in his torso were tightening, that I wouldn’t be allowed to leave here until I had been thoroughly, utterly fucked.
I let my head fall back and shuddered with the anticipation. Down went his tongue to lap up the trail he had just laid down, and then his lips closed around my skin in big, wet kisses, inching closer and closer down to where even the thought of what he was about to do made we wet.
The spoon clanged loudly as he dropped it back into the glass bowl, now completely focused on me and getting my legs to spread as wide as possible. I obediently lifted them high, exposing myself to him, desperate for that sweet tongue of his to get to work where I wanted it the most. I could hear the tendons in his legs crack and stretch as he squatted down in front of me, one ass cheek clasped in each of his hands. I couldn’t help but moan out loud as he planted a firm, broad tongue down onto my pussy, licking all the way up like I was the most delectable ice cream cone.
But he wasn’t going to linger. Just as soon as I had settled in and clutched at the his hair to anchor myself, his tongue began to move relentlessly over just the spots that he knew drove me wild. I knew it was difficult for him to crouch down low that now, even now, with his leg still not entirely healed, but he did it anyway. I loved how Felix was never half-hearted about the things he wanted. I loved how happily he threw himself into wanting me.
His hands were still propping me up and open, splitting me like a peach so his tongue could dig even deeper into the sweetness there. I felt his thumbs inching closer to that slick opening.
“Touch yourself,” he ordered.
I didn’t need to be told twice. My fingers flew to my clit and I shuddered as my middle finger took up his rhythm and he pulled back to admire me. I locked eyes with him, gazing down at his strong, tight body crouched down on the kitchen floor like a big cat. My other hand flew way up over my head and hung off the other side of the table in complete abandon. I knew he liked seeing me like this. Liked seeing me pleasure myself.
Slowly, he rose up and came to standing, sliding his hands down my inner thighs to part them and stretch them away.
“Show me,” he growled. I giggled and split that slick cleft wide open, making sure he could see just how turned on he was making me, just how hungry I was for him. Through half closed eyes I could make out his dominating form in front of me, towering above, naked, and his now rock hard dick in his hand. He caressed himself idly, slowly, cupping the tip with each stroke as he watched me rapt.
I swing my knees up and to my chest, knowing that this view would drive him wild. He wouldn’t stand there gawking much longer with an invitation like that.
“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut and reminded myself to breath.
“Do you want to…?” he asked. God, he had a sexy voice. Like warm gravel. Like beach sun that’s hot from a day under the sun.
“Yes, I’m ready,” I said.
This was our game. There was no win or lose with this game, but it was still very, very important to play by the rules. Over the years, we had taught one another these dirty rules, one fuck at a time.
“Good,” he breathed as he came closer. “Me too.”
And then the game began.
“Do your parents know you’re not in school?” he said quietly.
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” I said in a different voice.
“No? What do you think everyone would say if they knew you were bunking here with a man ten years older than you?”
I giggled. The unhurried way he was stroking my bare ass was the most divine sensation in the world.
“Are you sure you want me to do this? It’s gonna hurt,” he said.
Fuck yes.
“I know, do it anyway,” I purred.
“Once I start baby, I won’t be able to stop, you know that right?”
“I know. I do have a boyfriend you know.”
“But does he fuck you?”
“No.”
“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t fuck you like I’m going to fuck you.”
“I’m a little scared.”
“That’s OK, baby. Everyone’s scared their first time.”
“Be gentle.”
“Maybe…”
On an on he stroked, with his fingers but also with his words. He examined me closely, his fingers taking their time exploring every last aching fold and crease of my body. It was a fantasy game, one that didn’t make much sense in the real world, but here, in our little apartment, it followed the twisted, sexy logic of a world we had made together, just the two of us. I was the virgin whore, the ultimate fuck toy, the naughty little girl who asked for it, who pushed herself too far, who dared a guy too mature for her to do his worst.
“Look how little you are,” he said and pressed his cock into my navel, his length covering my entire stomach. I giggled nervously.
“Where’s that all
going to go?” I said.
“Oh, we’ll figure it out,” he whispered, and stroked the hair from my temples. “Now, get down on your hands and knees” he said, and I obeyed him, teetering high up on the kitchen table, the bowls of frosting pushed aside and long forgotten.
“Wider,” he ordered. I obeyed.
“You want to run around and act like a little slut? You think you can handle it? You’re just a baby,” he said, now examining my upturned ass as I swayed my hips side to side, my hair falling over me and making a curtain over my eyes.
“No I’m not. I can take it,” I peeped from inside my curtain of hair. I could almost hear him smiling.
When the swollen bulb of his cock pressed into me, it was really as though it was the first time. I winced and bucked my hips as his girth split me open, but his firm hands squeezed hard on my ass cheeks and held me down, lowering my whole body down onto him. I cried out as his heavy, veined cock shoved itself into me one stinging inch at a time. I twitched and gasped around him, overwhelmed by the sensation of being taken by this older guy, this almost-stranger who had lured me to his home and was now taking full advantage of my innocent body. I whimpered softly and the whimpers warped into deep, delicious groans as the full meaty heft of him sunk all the way in, completely ruining my make-believe virginity.
“Oh god, it hurts,” I mumbled.
“Good.”
“It’s too big…”
“You can take it,” he growled.
“But I …I shouldn’t be doing this …this is so wrong…”
“I said fucking take it,” he snapped, and his voice alone sent a crazy thrill all through my body.
He slowly slid out and took his time pumping all the way back in again. He was my math tutor, he was an older boy from a few grades above me, he was my best friend’s bad boy older brother, he was big and intimidating and didn’t want to be bothered by some immature girl who didn’t know how much trouble she was getting herself into…
He was going to teach me. He was going to hurt me. And I was going to let him.
Miraculously, his cock slowly disappeared again inside my tight pussy. I had never done this before. I never knew it could hurt so bad. Or feel so good. I arched my back and leaned into him as he pulled out and fucked again, then again, plunging slow and deep into my young body, only the slightest movements of his hip necessary to completely dominate my slender frame.
“Imagine if your boyfriend could see you now,” he moaned, opening me up with each stroke.
“He doesn’t do this to you, does he?”
I pouted and shook my head. No, I was a good girl. Until that now, that is.
He picked up the pace and was now gliding harder and faster into me, each stroke reaching somewhere deep inside my overwhelmed body. I pushed back into him, my hips meeting his toned ab muscles and bouncing off, a gentle slap of skin with each pump.
He was strong, much bigger than me. He could overpower me any time he wanted. But for now, he was being relatively gentle. He was breaking me in. I groaned and whimpered to let him know how hard it was for me, accommodating all of him, but though he held back, he wasn’t going to stop. He was going to make sure that when he was done, I would well and truly be deflowered, every last shred of innocence gone.
I felt his fingers drift to that secret place, and as he fucked me, he spread me open further and circled a thumb over the small pucker of my ass.
“If you’re a good little slut and do what I say, maybe I’ll even fuck you in here someday,” he said.
Fuck. He always knew just exactly what to say. My body clenched and churned internally as I felt myself edging closer to a big, sloppy, ridiculous orgasm. I always came the hardest when he fucked me like this.
“It’s too much for me,” I cried, daring him to keep going.
Here he reached forward, yanked my knees off the table and pulled me down to standing, me still impaled on his stiff cock and barely managing to keep my balance on my tip-toes. I flopped forward and gripped the edge of the table to steady myself against him. I was dripping wet now, and he had long since stopped holding back. Each time he pounded into me I could hear the faintest animal grunt in his voice. Every sense of mine seemed to collapse down into one and zoom into hyper focus on that one, beautiful sound. I loved the noise he made when he came. He was animal, when he got like this, but when he came? It was a few brief, gorgeous seconds of pure defeat; beautiful, juicy ecstasy that even he couldn’t control.
“You wanted to play this game, little girl, now you’re getting what you deserve,” he said, pumping faster. The place we connected was hot, so hot it felt like we had melted together.
“I want to stop, this is wrong… I’m scared…”
He paused for a second as he considered this. It was a new game we were playing. A dangerous one. The kind of game where the first move is to admit you even want to play.
“Not so grown up now, huh?” he said with a mocking laugh. My entire body came rushing right up close to the precipice of an orgasm. Eyes closed, my body buzzing on some other frequency, I began to struggle away from him. He pinned me by the wrists and brought them both to the base of my spine, pulling down hard to fuck me even deeper. I squealed, feeling almost as though he would lift me off the ground.
“My little slut, see how good that feels? That’s not so bad is it?”
I let out a long, shuddering groan.
“There’s a good girl. I know I’m being a little rough with you, but that’s what you need right now.”
He was fucking me so deep and so hard I could feel his balls slapping into me.
“This little pussy is mine, and I’m going to teach you to take cock like a real little slut, do you understand?”
I could only cry out in response.
“You fucking like that? Dirty little whore. You love it.”
“I love it,” I squeaked, knuckles going white against the table.
“You fucking love having a cock in you.”
“I love it so much…”
“Say it. Say how much you love it.”
“Oh god, I love your dick so much, I want you to give it all to me, show me how to fuck.”
With one super hard, super deep thrust, he sent my hips banging into the table. All at once he clenched his fists around my waist and roared as he came, shaking, inside me, one hot gush after another. That was the best feeling of all. Feeling that wet, sticky explosion inside me was so sexy it could push me over the edge alone. It claimed me. In our game, this was how we knew that my pussy was his; his to do whatever he wanted with.
I twisted around to see his curled hips and expression of delicious torment all over his gorgeous face. I caught his eye and held his gaze, a knowing smile on my face as I watched him jerk and spurt inside of me. In a second he had regained enough composure to throw one more thrust into me, and it was enough to send me hurtling over the edge, into that delicious abyss that he had plunged me into so many times before.
It was a slow, gooey, inelegant orgasm. I lost all control, my body limp and collapsing down onto the table, his dick still in me. The game was now over. Felix – life, solid, ordinary Felix – folded down on top of me, laying his broad chest down over me until I stopped shaking. He hugged the back of me like this until he softened and slid out of my exhausted pussy. I lay crumpled, the temples of my hair damp. I spied the frosting bowls at the edge of my vision. He softly began to kiss my neck.
“We’re pretty fucked up, you and I, you know that?” he said eventually and peeled himself off me.
I laughed. “Mostly you though.”
He spun me around and gave me a sweet, chaste kiss on my cheek.
“Actually, you’re fun when you’re stressed out about exams.”
I groaned.
“Oh fuck. How much time do I have?” I said. I could feel the warm evidence of what we had just done seeping out of me. I’d have to shower again. He peeked over my shoulder at the clock and smiled.
“You’re
good. We only have to leave here in about an hour, don’t worry.”
I smiled and relaxed into his arms. I could still feel how hard his heart was beating.
“You OK?” he asked.
“I love doing that with you,” I said to his chest.
He kissed me again then gave my ass a playful slap.
“Want to try some more in the shower, then?”
Chapter 15 - Felix
I thought of Emily and the games I’d play with her all that morning, as I walked into the shop, greeted Becky and took a glance at the customers in the café area, every one of them carried away with their own lives and conversations. They couldn’t possibly know what it had taken to bring this place to the bustling hub it was today. They couldn’t know what went into bringing it back from the dead, and the woman behind it all. Nobody knew Em like I knew her.
We barely talked about The Incident anymore these days. It was eons ago, when both of us were young and stupid. Now, there was a fresh batch of young, stupid kids to make bad mistakes, to take their blessings for granted, to realize what’s really important in life, and to find it all out the hard way. We didn’t talk about any of that anymore, or about Buck, or about the crushing humiliation she forced herself to live with for years.
Instead, we played games. Emily taught me that the past is never truly behind you. You always pick it up and carry it along with you, only it may change shape quite a bit. When I met Emily, she was neurotic and wracked with the guilt that the whole world was judging her for being such a righteous little deviant. These days, god bless her, she was just a righteous little deviant, period. In some of our games, I was a dirty professor dangling a good grade (and other things) over her to get what I wanted. In others, I was a bad boy boyfriend, a criminal luring her into a van, a pervy Sunday school leader or, when she was feeling really naughty, one of her friend’s fathers.
I happily went along with any and all of her dark little scenarios, finding it surprisingly easy to slip into character when I saw how truly wild it made her. I was always watchful, always making sure she was OK, not pushing too far. I stayed alert so that she could wander off into the many landscapes of her sordid imagination. I was always there when she came back, always with a smile, glad for any opportunity she gave me to accompany he, to be the one she trusted to open up that much to…