by Ashlee Price
Turned on, I allowed him to pull my face into his body. I opened my mouth wide, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex. As a good girl, I hadn’t given all that many blowjobs, and I wasn’t sure whether I would be able to contain all of him, but I was sure as hell about to find out…
My lips touched down against the very tip of his prick, and then melted around his engorged tip, sliding down, down, down along him. Inch by inch by agonizing inch of his long, veiny shaft began to slide its way down along inside my neck, and just when I thought I could take no more of him, he just kept coming, until every inch of him was completely and utterly buried inside my skull.
My nostrils flared as I struggled to breathe, and he slowly began to push his cock in and out through the shaft of my skull. I slid from his base to his tip, slowly, very slowly, building up an immense suction. Then I pushed back down, down, down along him, deep throating him once more, always certain I was about to choke on him, but always managing to survive just long enough to pull back up again.
I began to break into a steady, confident bobbing rhythm, twisting my tongue around him as I sucked him off like a pro, feeling depraved and animalistic as I gagged on that long, hard cock of his. My own movements, now, were in conflict with those he tried to inflict on me with his control, so that I felt my hair being pulled as I tried playfully to resist him, and the pain added an additional level of pleasure to the act.
At last, just when I was struggling to breathe and I thought I could take no more, he pushed me one final time up against his body, holding, holding, holding as I struggled. I thought he was about to bust a nut in my mouth, but somehow he managed to resist the temptation, and slowly he pulled out of me, his cock now glistening with saliva, and my face streaming beautifully with my own perverse fluids.
I was starting to look like a very, very naughty girl indeed…
I licked my lips, as though to prove to him on no uncertain terms that I could take whatever he threw at me. He smiled, and just to challenge me further, I suppose, he picked me up rather forcefully by the hair, and tossed me down onto the bed – not in a genuinely abusive way, just in a rough sex type of way, and I loved it as I jiggled and shook on the mattress, my body ready for whatever he could inflict upon me.
“Let me know if any of this is too much for you,” he said, descending upon me, his hands around my ankles, “And you think you might be ready to be a good girl again…”
I whimpered with delight as he hoisted my legs upward, pinning my ankles up around my ears, and spreading me wide open for him. He spit onto his free hand as he stared into my eyes, and he slid his hands a few times through the floral folds of my pussy, giving my twat a quick slap to get me ready, and evoking a pleasurable squeak of pain. He looked at me for a moment, making sure I hadn’t changed my mind about all of this, but I simply grinned at him, with a bit of a predatory look to my gaze, egging him onward.
He mounted me, then. He pushed his engorged tip into the opening of my pussy, and he slid himself inside me, stretching me out, causing the pleasure of friction to course through my body in waves. “Ohhhhh, Goddddd,” I moaned, before he’d even begun to fuck me, and then slowly he proceeded to do just that.
Slowly he dredged his cock along, in and out, in and out, in and out of me, gently, tenderly, like he was checking my fucking oil and trying his damnedest to make sure his dipstick made it back into the gauge.
Gradually, though, he began to thrust, to hump, to push himself, to fuck, faster and faster and faster, genuinely pounding me, drilling that hammer down, and smashing my body to bits. His pelvis swung violently forward in an animalistic fashion, devoid of any and all civility, full of primal, carnal rage. His buttocks clenched and unclenched, his dick launched further and deeper into me, pounding, pounding, pounding, my breasts jiggling, the bed squeaking, and the headboard rattling violently against the wall. Faster and faster, harder and harder, the acceleration only seeming to amplify as the minutes rolled by, our wet, aroused genitals slapping loudly together, KLAP KLAP KLAP KLAP KLAP! A series of agonized, profane moans issuing forth from this newfound bad girl’s mouth, “Oh yes, oh yes, oh God, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, shit! Ohhhhhh, fuck me…. FUCK!”
And, WHAM!
He plowed forward, hurling himself into me at full force, holding himself steady. He began to ejaculate wildly into my body – no condom, in the style of a true bad boy – pulse after pulse of his hot, molten sperm streaming into me, overflowing from my body and spilling onto the bed, and sending me over the edge.
A naughty, nasty orgasm overtook me, causing me to push my body upward into him, my spine arching, my legs wrapping around his ass to the point that I might have crushed him, and my fingers curling into the sheets. It was a climax unrivaled by any I’d experienced before it, making me bite my lip to contain myself, until at last I released, and let my limbs slacken, coated with sweat and throbbing with exhaustion, yet wholly and utterly satisfied.
Danny sighed, and pulled his cock out from between my sticky thighs. The two of us kissed for a while in the afterglow, twisting around on the bed, licking one another up, until at last the fatigue became too much for us to handle.
After that, we just sort of lay there, in a daze, but both happy, content, thrilled to be alive.
“God, that was wonderful,” I said at last, every word its own little sigh, and Danny sort of just smiled at me, trying to decide what he wanted to say.
“I’d love to do it again sometime,” he said, suggestively, and I had a feeling he didn’t just mean the sex – if that was what he’d attended, I would have been more than fine with going another round just as soon as he got hard again. What he meant, clearly, was that he wanted to see me again, outside of this first rendezvous – and he might, just might, be angling himself for a relationship with me…
“Yeah… I think I’d like that too,” I said, and he leaned over, and kissed me on the mouth.
“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked, a moment later, and I shook my head.
“Not as long as you give me one too,” I said.
“You smoke?” he asked, shocked as he pulled out his lighter.
I shrugged. In truth, I thought it was a disgusting habit, nothing I wanted to get myself addicted to, but I was trying to keep in my bad girl mindset, and wanted to keep pushing myself into new things.
He lit me up, however, and I started coughing right away, so that a smile began to spread across his lips. “You don’t smoke,” he said, calling my bluff, and I couldn’t help but smile back once I’d gotten control over myself. “Trust me,” he said, taking the cigarette back from my limp fingers. “You sure as hell don’t need to start if you think it’ll impress me… I wish I’d never fucking started the shit. I’ve tried several times to quit, but you know how it is… I’m pretty good about it now, but I’ve kind of gotten myself too conditioned to it after sex to resist.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard people like them after sex,” I said, “But I guess I’ve never really been all that into it… Just felt like trying something different.”
He grinned, blowing smoke through his nose. “Come here,” he said, pulling me over onto himself, and I allowed myself to be snuggled up against him, my head on his shoulder, my hand on his chest as he smoked. I loved the beating of his heart beneath my palm, and gradually I let my eyes wander around the room.
I hadn’t noticed it before…
I’d been so sexed up on the way here that it was like I had blinders on, but now it struck me that the apartment where Danny lived was immaculate, spacious and well decorated. Even the bed we were on was nice as hell, the sheets fancy and delicate, feeling luxurious against my skin.
“Hey… Danny… What did you say you did, again?”
He seemed taken aback like this, as though alarmed I should ask.
“Oh, um… I’m independently employed… It’s a little bit confusing, actually; I don’t want to bore you with the details… But, suffice it to say it’s a lucrative field that I’m in.”
>
“Oh…” I said, staring off into space, trying not to let my mind wander to the territory where I knew it was heading.
The contents of this apartment seemed far too out of place with his bearing for me, far too expensive for a man who rode a motorcycle and looked as though he only shaved every couple of weeks at most. The good girl in me started flashing alarms, and wondering how the hell he managed to pay for all this, but I tried to kick her back down, tried my damnedest not to let myself ruin all of this.
“Heather?” he asked, watching me, “Is – is something wrong?”
I blinked at him, shaking my head dumbly, as I stared into his handsome face. He was far too perfect, far too immaculate, and far too precisely what my life had been missing for me to throw all of this away out of some ridiculous suspicion.
I’d wanted a bad boy, and now I was trying to poke holes in my newly found happiness? Hell no!
“I just… Put that cigarette out,” I said, and he stared at me, but then acquiesced, stubbing the thing out in an ash tray.
The moment it was out, I tackled him with the sheets, folding my body over him, and ducking back beneath the covers for round two.
He smiled at me, and once again our bodies tangled up in a delightful alloy, the pleasure unbearable as we fucked each other’s lights out.
Chapter 4
For the first time in quite a while, it seemed at last as though I’d found some light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. Thanks to Danny, I now had hope to help me make my way through the day. I had a reason to want to keep going, and everything seemed so much simpler, so much happier, and so much more worthwhile now. I simply couldn’t believe how lucky I’d been to meet him.
It seemed too good to be true, that a man like him could love a girl like me with the degree of enthusiasm and affection that he routinely displayed. The way he held me close to him and consumed me whenever we made love. The way he whispered into my ear late at night, and held my hand during the day, and the way that the two of us spent every waking moment together whenever we could possibly afford to do so.
I didn’t know, really, whether I could honestly say I’d actually ever been in love up to that point, but now there was no doubt in my mind. I knew that the feelings coursing through my chest for my bad boy were real, and as far as I could tell his own feelings for me were just as genuine.
I loved nearly everything about him, honestly… I loved how caring and considerate of me he was, a secret romantic, I think, despite his gruff, “bad boy” appearance. One morning after a night spent at my apartment alone, I’d awoken feeling miserable, dragging my ass out of bed to look forward to a long day of work ahead. My day was instantly brightened, however, by a bouquet of flowers waiting outside my doorstep, courtesy of Danny, along with a card – whose message was simultaneously so sweet and so steamy that I won’t bother to repeat it here.
My entire day seemed to brighten after that, and I made it through the entire day with a smile on my face, feeling lighter than air, like I could easily take on the world and its challenges, regardless of what it decided to throw at me.
I let myself get lost, swept up in the romance, and secretly I was just so damn proud of myself, for having finally stepped outside my comfort zone, and experimented with the life of being a genuine “bad girl” for a change…
I loved riding on the back of his motorcycle with him… Squeezing my arms tightly around him, as he ramped the speed higher and higher, drove me to new places, showed me new sights I’d never seen before, views I couldn’t even have imagined might exist so close to my proximity.
He was expanding my horizons in such a monumental way, opening up the world for me, and I thought that, no matter how hard I tried, I might never be able to repay him for all that he’d already managed to do for me in life up to this point.
And of course, then, there was also the sex… God, it was so wonderful… Every session of lovemaking between the two of us was like a dream, as we sweated the sheets, and made the bed rock violently, and he had me gritting my teeth, curling my toes, struggling not to spin out of control as he sent me through the apex of pleasure and beyond. He savored my luscious, ebony curves every time, and I was overjoyed by the feeling of his taut, powerful body wrapped around me, the sensation of him inside me, his thickness, his hardness, the mingling of our sweat, the sinking of his teeth into my dark flesh…
But then there was the afterglow…
Those fleeting moments, magical and strange after sex was concluded – generally happy times, but gradually, it seemed like these were the moments when I found myself second guessing this whole fantasy the most severely.
I’m not exactly sure how to describe it, honestly, other than to say it was a little bit like an addiction… When I was in the right mood, lost in Danny’s aura and susceptible to every single thing he did and said, I seemed not to give a damn either way about anything. I could go along with whatever he asked me to accept without questioning him, without trying to dig into things where I had no business being.
But afterwards, following that great burst of sexual energy and the slow drifting back down to earth, it was like a cold chill would come over me, a skepticism, as those nagging questions just kept wriggling their way back into my consciousness.
How the hell did he afford all of this? This nice place, these nice things? What possible career could he have that allowed him such luxury, when he looked like such a slacker on so many levels, defiant and independent, unable to mesh with society?
I know I’d been wanting a bad boy, and that that fact, in itself, was a huge selling point for me, but still… Just how bad was the man that I loved?
He refused to answer questions whenever I made the mistake of asking him about his work. He either turned away from me, or else he distracted me… He gave me some vague phrase that I would have to think about and process, and while I was trying to dissect his meaning, he would start kissing me, touching me, driving back to distraction… And I would be forced to put such things out of my mind, and surrender myself to his love.
Still, though, it was hard not to think about it, the longer and longer the two of us stayed together. There seemed to be warning signs everywhere, indications of the danger that were getting harder and harder to ignore.
For instance, one night while I was over at his place, he got this phone call. He got up, and stepped into another room to take it privately, yet even as he slipped into the other room I could hear violent shouting on the other end of the line, demands being made, it sounded like, ultimatums… And Christ, I was left confused, not to mention pissed off upon his return, as when I asked who it was, he just said “nobody,” and proceeded to give me a massage to redirect my thoughts.
And then there was another time, a lot like it. We’d been having sex, humping vigorously, enthusiastically in the dark, when suddenly there had been a furious pounding at his front door, like whoever was there wanted to bust down the damn door. He’d pulled out of me, slipped into his underwear and a bathrobe, then commanded me, “Stay here…”
I’d been scared out of my wits, pressing my ear against the bedroom door to try and hear across the apartment. I couldn’t even begin to make out half of what the voices were saying, other than “For Christ sake, my girlfriend and I are trying to sleep…” Beyond that, though, it was all guesswork. Something about somebody owing someone money…
The door had eventually slammed shut, and after a while he’d come back to bed, slipping beneath the sheets without explanation, barely even a word, and I didn’t dare question him just then.
On and on it went in this manner, the questions eating me alive inside until at last, one day, he came home sporting a black eye, cuts across his face, and I had to call him out on it.
“Are you going to tell me what the hell you do, or are you going to keep treating me like a damn child all the time and leaving me guessing as to what I should expect next?” I’d demanded.
It had taken quite a bit of angry mu
ttering from him at first, refusing to commit to an answer, until at last he seemed to realize that I deserved an explanation, and he confessed, “I’m involved… With drugs… Not, like, personally… I mean I don’t use, or anything like that. I’ve seen what that shit can do to people… Just… On the sales end of the operation, I guess you could say. On the ground floor, really, but…” He shrugged. I looked at him, blinking, not wholly sure what I should make of this. “But it’s not dangerous, or anything like that… I mean, I’m safe…”
“You’re safe?” I repeated, incredulous, peering at his black eye.
He hurried to cover himself on this front. “Look that was… That wasn’t… I mean, it was really just a simple misunderstanding… It’s not something that will happen again, so don’t worry about that. It’s all taken care of… And besides, I thought you were attracted to danger?”
And God, I don’t know what was wrong with me… I don’t know how I’d managed to swing so far toward the opposite extreme of being the “good girl” that I let myself be talked out of my clear distaste for his occupation, and seduced yet again by his charms.
But the truth was, I really did find myself attracted to danger, and now I let myself be ravished by him following his confession, the two of us engaging in the hottest, most pleasurable sex we’d ever had in those next few minutes.
I would be lying if I said my chest didn’t feel like it was twisted up in the center after that, or that I didn’t find myself worrying day and night about what might happen next, because I did…
But I just didn’t care anymore. Danny’s hold was simply too strong over me, and I couldn’t, for the life of me, get enough of him.
I lived with his evil, because it turned me on, and it felt good, as anxious as it made me, to be doing the completely wrong thing for once, to see how long I could go on before my choices caught up to me.