Mindgasm - A Bad Boy Romance With A Twist (Mind Games Book 3)

by Gabi Moore

  She smiled at me and carried on twirling.

  “Yes, exactly. A town hall, but different. But when I say “community center” the mission leaders hear “church” …but I’m working on it,” she said.

  The heat and hard work had been good for her. She was so relaxed these days. When I first met her, she was like a hard, brittle case filled with jelly. All good Christian manners on the outside, holding in a molten core of hunger and rage and energy. Now, she was the reverse. She had gained a little weight, and softened somehow. She was loose and easy in her body, and yet I noticed something hard at her core. Something new and strong and a little defiant. It was a beautiful transformation.

  Call me arrogant, but I liked to think that I had a hand in it. That in binding her, I had broken all her real chains. That by dominating her body, claiming it as mine, and yes, pushing her hard, I had released her, and loosened something indescribably sweet and free.

  “You don’t really need their permission, Penny,” I said. I had said the same thing to her countless times over the last few months.

  “I know. But still, it would be great to get a hold of some of that funding!” she laughed and nuzzled into me. Her bare legs were relaxing long down off the mattress and onto the floor, and looked so white and soft next to mine. She had taken to wearing sarongs, too, these days, and traditional shirts and dresses, although I hadn’t the heart to tell her I liked her better in denim shorts and Pep Store shirts.

  “Yeah, but like I told you, they’re not the only ones with resources. You have ideas for the garden. Real ideas. That’s worth more than money alone. And you have me.” I instantly regretted saying it. I wasn’t used to this sort of sappy bullshit. These fawning, sugary sentiments. I could live without her. She didn’t complete me. But I would have cut off my right arm if it would have made her happy.

  She turned and beamed me a bright, easy smile.

  “Well, good to know, Vik, if I ever want to turn the plot into a massive weed operation, I’ll come to you first” she laughed.

  I frowned and said nothing.

  “Hey, I’m just joking. I just meant …well, forget it.”

  I would forget it. She wouldn’t be the first to draw a line between “legitimate” and “illegitimate” and put me on the unflattering side. I got it. It was a lot to ask of her. I didn’t blame her for being a little ashamed of me. A little frightened, even.

  I looked down again at her white legs and felt a kick inside. We had already fucked this morning, but I wanted her again. She complained sometimes, that her body was overwhelmed, and that she was a little sore. That I was too big for her.

  Good. I wanted to leave my mark on her body. Let her hurt a little. Let her walk around out there in the world, and feel the memory of me between those girly little thighs of hers, and know that she couldn’t even for a second forget me, and what I could do to her body with mine.

  I placed a hand on her knee and stroked. Just like the sun never set on the once glorious British empire, I wanted to conquer her body, her little pussy never going a full day without me. Never more than a few hours away from a brutal fucking, like she deserved. Always returning to me. Always open, for me.

  I slid my hand up and she stopped talking, realizing my intent.

  “Again?” she whispered. I pulled my sarong off, took her hand and placed it at my crotch, where I was hard for her again. Her hands always struggled to fit around me. I loved seeing that. I loved measuring myself against her: I knew her entire body in cock-lengths, like a hunter knows his hunting ground by paces. One length from her sweet cunt to her belly-button. One length from her wrist to the crook of her inner arm. One length for her pretty face, crown to chin. Inside, though, once I eased into her and she opened to me, she was boundless.

  “Yes, again. Suck me.”

  She leaned over and put her head in my lap, curling her legs into a fetal position and cozying up to my crotch as though she was about to sing it to sleep. With affectionate hands she stroked the tight curls at my groin, then dragged fairy-light fingers over my rapidly stiffening dick. She nuzzled the tip, and the faintest puff of her breath wisped over me.

  “Where am I, Vik?” she asked in a sleepy tone, still twirling her fingers over my inner thighs, teasing.

  “You’re here, with me,” I whispered.

  “But where is this? Am I in a dream…?”

  Sometimes she got into this mood. I always forget how far she’s come; how young she is. And how overwhelming all of this must seem sometimes to her.

  “You’re in Mchinji, in the south of the Mehinji reserve, in a wooden cabin with a man you love, and you’re about to put his cock in your throat,” I said playfully.

  “A man that I love?” she said, still dreamily gazing at nothing. We had never used that word. It just slipped out. I didn’t care.

  “It’s just a word. But yes, you love him. He is, after all, eminently lovable” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  She passed her lips and cheeks over me again and again, taking me in, and I swelled and grew at her faintest touch.

  “And you love her?” she purred.

  I mumbled yes, and stroked her hair.

  “You’ve loved me a little too hard lately…” she said, giggling. I love it when she was like this, eyes all glazed over and twinkly. She was fun when she was stoned. And even more fun when I gave her mushrooms. But sometimes she just spontaneously got like this, for no reason.

  “Well, you can have a little rest now, if you suck me …but if you don’t do it right, I might just have to fuck you anyway.”

  She laughed out loud and gave me a sparkly-eyed look. I watched my swollen tip disappear into her little mouth and sighed as her lips closed round me. She had learnt so quickly. She had been a truly ferocious student, lapping up everything I threw her way, always keen for the next lesson.

  As her tongue lashed over the rock solid length of me, I thought of what that next lesson would be: I wanted to fuck her ass. It would take time. But I wanted no part of her unclaimed, unexplored. And when she cried out in pain I wanted to be the one to soothe it away again and kiss her tears. My cock bounced in her throat and she instantly moaned, swallowing down a little more. Laying on her side, I could rest my hand on her shoulder and lean back.

  Lazy dust motes wandered and floated in the sunbeam that came through the window and made a stretched out square on the floor in front of her. The birds outside were still, and everything else was still too, and warm. I shut my eyes and savored the feel of her. Zoomed in my focus on every flick of her tongue, on the delicious way her lips slid up and down me. Whatever I had, I wanted to give it to her.

  As she eased me to the edge of a warm, liquid orgasm, I thought that yes, I would fuck her anyway. She was mine and I was hers.

  Chapter 17 - Penelope

  “I’ve never done this before,” I said. The instant I said it, though, it felt phony and I laughed at myself. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. Of course I haven’t done this before. You know that already…” I said.

  It always seemed so unnecessary to flirt with someone like Vik. It seemed almost too crass. Instead, I had gotten into the habit of looking at him square in the face, and telling him just exactly what I wanted, when I wanted it, without any beating around the bush. I never felt so gloriously naked as I did with him. We were Adam and Eve in a garden all our own making, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to just look into those beautiful clear light eyes and say, “Now, I’m hungry for you right now” and then we’d fuck.

  No appetite of mine was ever alien to him, no suggestion was out of bounds, no confession too dark for him to hear. His body had so thoroughly claimed mine, that when we were naked together, there was no distinction between them anymore. Nothing we did could be wrong. We hadn’t said “love” again, but this, too, seemed a little crass and unnecessary. The way he looked into my eyes whenever I rode him, the tenderness in his fingertips when he brought me to a thundering o
rgasm …it all made that paltry word seem more than a little redundant.

  “Ok, either you stop wriggling or I’m going to have to tie your legs as well and make you stop wriggling.”

  We were on the floor of the cabin. I was on my side, half curled in a fetal position, with my butt perched a little on his lap as he sat, feet bent underneath him. One strong hand on my hips, he had been stroking his other hand teasingly over my clit, tracing little circles right where he knew they’d drive me the craziest.

  I looked up and saw him above me, his strong body erect with the perfect posture, and he was staring down at me with so much focus it was like I was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. My arms were bound together from the wrists to the elbows, and pinned behind me so that one breast pressed gently against the floor. His fingers circled and circled and circled …the throbbing pleasure there was so intense it was becoming harder and harder to stop myself tumbling over the edge and just coming already.

  “Penny, I can tell what you’re thinking, and so help me if you come now, you’re going to be in big trouble.”

  His voice sent fresh prickles all over my skin.

  I groaned. “Oh god… just do it already! I’m ready, I swear” I said.

  “Not yet” he said and carried on stroking me at his own leisurely, infuriating pace. I was so wet there were barely any friction to speak of, and his fingers glided and slipped over my swollen lips. With how close I was to coming, it was probably just as well.

  At last, he took his sarong off, and his cock thumped heavy against my naked hip. I writhed in agony.

  “Oh God I want it Vik! Just fuck me, we’ll try all this other stuff tomorrow or something…” I whined, desperate just to have him inside me, for him to fuck me silly and give me some relief.

  “I said not yet” he said again, a cocky little smile on his lips.

  Eventually he dipped his fingers into the pool of wetness, slid a slick finger out and then anointed the entrance to my ass, drawing tiny glistening rings around it. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on the dancing stars behind my eyelids.

  “Penny, don’t come…” he said and sweet lord did it take every ounce of energy to hold off.

  In went the finger, and the sensation was odd …yet pleasurable.

  “Tell me how it feels” he said. I squirmed a little.

  “It feels …it feels good. I want more.”

  Inside me, his finger stroked large circles, pushing out against my body. I breathed in deep and tried to relax into the delicious burning that radiated from out of his fingers.

  “Does that hurt?”

  I wasn’t sure if it did. I curled my hips towards him in response and he sunk in deeper, then with some effort slipped in another. It felt deep and dirty and wrong and just a little sore. I loved it. He began to stroke me again, and this time, I instantly understood why he had made me wait so long, had made me beg for it; I rushed back up to the brink of my orgasm and was right back on the edge of ecstasy again. My clit was on fire, but this time, the pleasure spread out from the masterful fingers he had buried in my ass. It was miraculous, really. As though something new opened up inside, and the pleasure was doubled.

  In went his fingers, then out again, then in again. My entire lower body felt electrified. And that’s when I said it. I said, “I’ve never done this before” and instantly it felt phony. He laughed and slapped my ass with his other hand.

  “Shhh …I want you to focus.”

  So I did.

  “By the time I put my cock in you, I want you to be ready to come. It’s going to hurt, but you’re going to be coming so hard, you won’t even notice.”

  My body throbbed and thrummed all around his firm fingers, pressing in, then out again.

  It was a crazy idea. He was bigger around than my wrist. I could scarcely accommodate him in the usual way, even though my poor pussy had been taking it almost every day for months now. I didn’t know how this was going to work. But in a way, I didn’t want it work. I wanted it to be difficult. I wanted him to have to force it. I wanted it to hurt a little. Or maybe a lot.

  “I’m ready now, Vik. I want to come. Put it in…” I whined again. I was going out of my mind. The deep, raw sensations he was stirring into my body felt so good I could have come then and there and been happy.

  “No, not yet…” he said, and slipped in another finger. I yelped and twitched in his lap, but he held me down firm with his hand, pressing me hard into his lap.

  “You fucking like that?” he growled at me under his breath. I pressed my cheek into the floor and breathed deeply.

  “I fucking love it” I said, and felt him squeeze my waist and laugh quietly to himself.

  Again he stroked me until I was on the brink. Again I raced up to the edge of that delicious orgasm, and again he reigned me in. Like a good little slut, I would wait for his permission, wait that so when I finally exploded, I did it with his cock all the way deep inside my ass.

  In no time I was squirming again, the effort of holding off my orgasm breaking me out in goosebumps. His cock was rock hard and hot. He slid out his three fingers and pressed the head to the opening, and it sent glorious stinging waves of pleasure all through me.

  “Penny, don’t you dare come yet…” be breathed, and I tried my hardest to obey him.

  He had to push hard to get inside. It hurt like hell. My ears whined and I strained at the knots on my arms as he jammed it inside. I was so wet that it slid in easily, but as the bulk of him plunged into me a sharp, tearing pain rippled out all through my pelvis and up my spine. He froze where he was and tenderly stroked my lower back for a moment.

  “Shhh… just stay here with me…” he whispered. I relaxed and the searing pain melted into the most delicious pleasure. And then I wanted more. He felt my body loosen and open to him, and pressed in an inch more, then another. I felt like I could barely breathe, with all of that immense cock buried in me. My pussy was raw and open and twitching madly with pleasure, but all I could focus on was the deep, dirty feeling of his fat cock trying to wedge inside me. He pressed in a little, I breathed, he pressed in more. Eventually, by some magic, the entire shaft was inside me, and it felt warm and hard and naughty as hell. I was so thrilled to have him in me, to have that gorgeous part of him so deep in me, that I nearly came there and then.

  “Penny…”

  His voice brought me back to earth. I breathed in hard.

  I looked down at a sight so unbelievably hot I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. My tiny ass had somehow swallowed the full length of his wide, dark dick and it was all the way inside, so that his tight abs were pressing up as close as they could to my body. I felt a silly thrill of pride rush over me.

  He pulled back a little to thrust in again but I whimpered in pain. That was too much. Even I had my limits. He smiled at me and kept stroking my back.

  “Look, you did it,” he said and I smiled down at the raw place where our bodies connected. I felt the soft skin of his balls press against me. With a single fingertip he planted the daintiest, faintest touch onto the tip of my clit, and lingered there for a mere moment…

  The effect was out of this world. It was as though he had pushed a button and detonated a bomb inside. I rushed up to the edge of the orgasm again, except this time with so much energy I spilled right over, and before I knew it a merciless, pulsing orgasm was washing right through me. My pussy clamped down hard but the weight of his immense cock in my ass resisted me and anchored me open, sending deep, dirty waves of extra ecstasy through my stretched body. I cried out as wave after wave beat through me. My bound arms flailed around helplessly, and my hips were held down hard by both his hands, as he pinned me down with his cock. I couldn’t go anywhere. There was nothing to do but ride through those surges of pleasure-pain.

  My body convulsed hard, and the twitching slowed and morphed into heavy, delicious shudders. He was still in me, and I could feel the engorged head of him somewhere still deep inside my guts. It was the n
astiest, most delicious feeling in the world.

  I cleared my throat to say something to him, to thank him, to beg him for mercy, I wasn’t sure yet; but when I turned to face him I saw his flushed, contorted face. He was coming too. With one last savage pump of his hips, he tore into me and I felt, deep inside, one hot spurt after another flooding into me.

  “Fuck!” he growled, and the tendons in his neck looked stretched tight enough to snap.

  I smiled as he dug further into me, then collapsed down onto my body, one last stab of pain as he slid slowly out. As he slid out, I felt a curious mix of relief and instant yearning. I felt empty without him. My hands still bound, we lay there a moment, and I swear I could hear his heart beating.

  We looked at each other, slick with sweat, and laughed.

  “I think these can come off now,” I said with a smile, wriggling a little to gesture to my bound hands. He undid the knots and we watched as the circulation came back to my arms, erasing the white marks where the strap used to be. He held me and I nestled into him. Judging by the light outside, we had been at it for a while. It was almost dark.

  He sprang up and went over to his makeshift kitchen counter, and started clanging pots. I closed my eyes and dozed a little, warm, indescribable feelings washing all over my exhausted body. In a few minutes he had made some tea, and we sat together, against the wall, and drank in silence. He had his hand on the floor, one finger extended just enough to touch my leg. Just to keep contact. It made me smile inside to see it.

  “Vik, what do you keep in that tin, the locked one right at the top of the shelf?” I asked, blowing the steam off my mug. He looked up at it with me. I had always wanted to ask, but he was so secretive about everything.

  “That’s …stuff from my mother” he said eventually.

  “She’s from Russia?” I had heard people in the village say that. He seemed a little uncomfortable by the question, but he smiled at me, that one little finger still keeping contact.

  “Yes. She was. She came here from Russia when she was about twenty years old…” he started.