He just slides right in, thanks to the lube, and thanks to his finger-work the night before.
Alex says this just as I think it. “My fingers were a good idea,” he says, moving said fingers slowly and then more vigorously in and out of my pussy. A pussy that is quickly and noisily beginning to eat him. He hasn’t been at it for more than a minute, and already she’s slurping. “They gave you an appetite, not just an expectation.” Slowing down his fingering, he feeds his fingers into my pussy until the all the way up to his knuckles. At the same time, he pushes his dick further up my ass.
I grunt, quaking under both sensations of being penetrated. Of being filled to capacity, but I don’t make any noises that could make it through my sweater sleeves. He increases the tempo on his fingers, and then proceeds to bring the speed up on his cock as well. Not to the same as his hand. A little slower, but no less intense. On each movement in and out, he makes me feel every inch. Every little drag of the condom against my ridges. Against the lube squishing around in there.
Quickly, I feel overwhelmed. Assaulted in the best way possible. For not having had sex before, let alone anal, I’m surprised to find myself leaning in to him. Rocking back and to his penis and fingers, though it makes my stomach hurt. My womb tingle with an oddly-pleasant “sour” sensation like I’m sucking on hard lemons, not skin.
“Oh, good girl, good girl,” whispers Alex hotly under his breath, as I lean into him. He snakes his free hand under my bra, and fondles both of my breasts. Pinches and twists both of my hard, puffy nipples intern; all without missing a beat on fucking me. Even as he pulls on my nipples and jiggles my breasts, his fingers and penis are still going in and out of my pussy and ass respectively. At the same speed they were before he reached up to handle me.
I let out a raspy sigh, wondering how in the hell I’m going to stay quiet through much more of this. Already, I’m finding it hard to bite back little moans. Small squeals and yelps, but I keep them wedged in my throat. If even one escapes, he might stop.
And I don’t want him to stop.
If anything, I want him to fuck me harder.
Which he does almost immediately after I think it, as if he can read my mind. He pushes me away from him a bit, and repositions my butt so it’s high in the air again. That done, he proceeds to up the intensity of his thrusts. Now it’s enough to cause the bench to rattle. Creek some, as if a storm’s washing up on it. He increases the tempo again in no time, and now he’s actually pressed into me, his cock striking the inside of me like lightning.
He grunts — almost groans — but before it can get out into the air, he plants his mouth on the back of my neck. A bit of a squeal and rubs out of me at this, but I quickly silence it by putting my head down on the bench. Anything to keep myself quiet, but it doesn’t stop Alex from sucking on me like a vampire. If anything, it encourages it.
And, and this moment, I wouldn’t ask for anything more. Not when feeling so possessed — so devoured — is exactly what I’ve always wanted. His weight isn’t suffocating. It’s comforting. His hold restrains me, but I feel free in it. Free to give up all control, which is what I do as he grabs my hips, and pounds and to me with everything he has.
I’m so lit up in the back, I don’t even miss the fingers not being in my pussy anymore. All I want is more of his fat boy in my dirty, slutty ass. With the way the muscles are contracting back there, with the urge to release growing back there, I imagine what it would be like for him to cum directly inside that hole. Squirt every drop of his white frosting in me, and watch it drip out of my little strawberry-pink anus.
The minute I think that, I cum. I feel ashamed for a moment, as I ride the title wave of warmth up and over my crouched position on the bench. I scold myself for the shutters passing through me, until I remember that he didn’t tell me I couldn’t cum. Unlike last night, he didn’t specify that I had to get his permission.
Helping take away my “shame,” is the fact that Alex is cuming right above me. Straining. Shaking. Gurgling almost, with the strength of what is shooting through him and into the rubber.
I breathe a little easier, and hold still for the rest of his orgasm to work through him.
It does so beautifully. Like water up against a beach, it ebbs over and through me like a wave. Like a rolling cloud.
Almost as soon as it starts, it ends. Soon, Alex takes his cock from my ass, and stows the condom back in his back pocket. But not before folding the material in on itself, and repackaging it in the dropped condom wrapper.
No evidence, no crime.
“Not a single sound,” he marvels quietly. “Good girl.” He pulls up my underwear and pants. When they are back up over my hips, he pats my butt lovingly. Possessively. “I love how easily you can be trained,” he says, helping me off my knees and onto my feet.
“I love how easily I can please you,” I say, fixing my own bra and sweater. I grab some of the clothes Alex had us lie about trying on, and put them over my arm. I try my best to make them look a little disheveled, like someone did try them on. “If you can think of some other ways I can do that,” I whisper, heading out of the dressing room ahead of him, “I’d love to hear them.”
I hear, “Meet me at the hot tub. Bring your friend,” as I get the clerk’s attention.
When I see that at Alex has successfully abated detection, I whisper, “Hot tub sounds great.” I move to put the clothes back on the hanger, in case anyone might’ve seen us come out of the same dressing room, and feel tempted to tattle. “I’ll have to check with Mariah first, though.” I blow him a kiss.
He catches it in a comically animated way. “Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you at the hot tub later.”
Saying that, he shoves his hands in his pockets, and walks nonchalantly out of the store.
Chapter 19
Jane
For the rest of the afternoon after Alex and I part ways, I’m floating. Out of body, but it’s a warm fuzzy feeling, not disconnected. In every bit of warm and fuzzy, I think of Alex. Feel him near me. Smell his cologne and his musk filling me. Surrounding me. And all I can think about is how much I want to be with him again.
At the hot tub, whenever that will be. I’ve already decided which swimsuit I’m going to wear. A silver two-piece bikini, with a ruffled skirt. It’ll not only give him a good look at everything in the hot water, and also give him easy, unfettered access. Without ever really having to undress.
I’m occupied by these thoughts until Mariah and I meet up just outside the lodge. I’ve just left the boutique after losing myself in thoughts and clothing I don’t buy, but like touching.
I can tell just by looking at her that Paul and her got up to more than skiing up on the mountain. Just like I got up to more than trying on clothes in the dressing room. But the thing that makes me happier than knowing she got another good lay, is what she says to me about going to the hot tub. That Paul invited her there, and she’s definitely planning to meet up with him.
Without giving away how happy this makes me, I say that I’m definitely down for a soak, and would even be willing to give her one of my swimsuits to borrow.
Which ends up being a good thing, because when we arrive back at the room, and start to get changed, it turns out Mariah doesn’t have a swimsuit packed.
I give her the silver two-piece bikini I was planning to wear, and change into my matching black one. Which is fine by me anyway, since the black bikini is designed to push up my boobs more. Give me more cleavage. Something Mariah probably wouldn’t be comfortable with anyway.
“Ready Freddie?” I say, enjoying the look of overwhelm Mariah has on her face in reaction to my Grand-Canyon cleavage. She nods and we head out the door together. But not before grabbing a pair of towels and flip-flops provided by the lodge.
As we head to the spot, I let my head fill with more thoughts of Alex. Of what it will be like when I see him at the hot tub. Maybe you and your brother be there together, I think, becoming excited just
by the smell of warm water. Chlorine. At least until Mariah and I arrive. Images of me straddling Alex underneath the bubby with my bikini bottom pulled aside fills my head. Then maybe we can each go our own separate ways. At least two different ends of the tub.
***
Unfortunately for me and Mariah, neither of us get what we are expecting once we enter the spa area. Paul’s there, but not Alex.
Even worse than that though, is the fact that there is someone there with Paul. It’s just not his brother. It’s another woman, and Mariah has undoubtedly just seen them cuddled up together. The skinny blonde is hugging on him so close, she might as well be rubbing herself off on his junk. On his abs, for the way she’s straddled on him.
But Paul doesn’t look happy to have her there. If anything, he looks stressed. Harassed sexually, as if this woman is his anorexic nightmare.
Mariah doesn’t seem to pick up on this detail, though. She stops short, her breath stopping even shorter in her lungs. She let out a strangled sob as she stares at them together the way someone would stare at a fiery ball of carnage. Unwillingly transfixed.
In the same moment, I see Paul’s face contort in absolute horror. “Mariah,” he cries, leaping out of the tub. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s just ejected the real-life Barbie doll directly into the water from his lap. “Wait! It isn’t what it looks like!”
Before I can do anything to calm Mariah down, or scan the area one more time for Alex, Mariah bolts from the room. She drags me along with her before I have any say in the matter. Before I even realize I gave her my hand to hold. “Come on! I’m done!” she cries, pushing out of the doors that separate the spa area from the rest of the lodge. She’s crying hard now, but we continue to move quickly, blindly down the hall. “I want to go,” she says plaintively.
Worse than her tears, is the fact that I now here Paul running after us. Calling out to her, telling Mariah to wait and to please listen to him. Of course, she wants nothing to do with him.
“I want to go home!” she screams at Paul more than at me. “I’m done with all of this.” Her voice has gone from a raging fire to a burned-out husk.
We walk still faster, and as I feel Mariah’s legs start to give out, I feel my heart give out. I start to give into the sadness and frustration I feel. It takes everything I have not to start crying along with her. But even if I do, it isn’t because of witnessing potential cheating on behalf of my friend. It’s because I’m so damn torn between wanting to be on Mariah’s side and going back to look for Alex. Spend the time with him that I promised.
But Mariah reaches our room and tugs me inside of it before I can make up my own mind. Shutting the door, she collapses in sorrow. In tears. “I can’t believe he would do that,” she wails, “I can’t believe that liar and fraud would invite me to the hot tub over and over again, only to have another bitch in there with him!” I watch her struggle to get up, to change out of the swimwear into regular clothes. “I thought he had more respect for me than that! But I guess $1 million is cheap to him!”
From over Mariah’s shout, I hear a knock on my door. I know it’s Paul, and while I know Mariah’s not going to want to talk to him, I don’t feel the same. I saw something she didn’t. That Paul wasn’t really as enamored with his unexpected company as her sensitive heart wants her to believe.
I shrug her off when she tries to keep me from speaking to Paul. I step confidently to the door and slip out of it into the hall, not caring how much skin I’m showing Alex’s brother.
Paul looks as distraught as he sounded. He’s just as desperate. More so now, now that I’ve stepped out to speak with him. “Please,” he says, “you gotta let me talk to Mariah.” I don’t respond to him, but he acts like I did. “Just for two seconds.” Behind us, we can both hear Mariah crying. Sniffling. “Two seconds, that’s all I ask,” he adds, practically looking like he’s about to get down on his knees and beg. “Just let me explain to her that it wasn’t what it looked like!” Paul’s eyes look like a caged animal afraid of fire. “I swear to God, I would never do that to her!”
I close the door a bit more, looking at him with genuine sadness. “I know you wouldn’t.” I pause, feeling tears threatening. Not for Paul, but for the fact that I’ll definitely not get to see Alex now. “I saw how you really were with her, whomever that woman is. You’re not into her. Clearly.” I pick at the corner of my eyes, daring them to defy my perfectly-manicured nails. “But Mariah’s not going to listen to you.” Under my breath I add, “I wish she would. Then I could be with Alex one more time.”
“There’s gotta be something I can do,” says Paul, switching out of beggar mode to boss mode. “I can’t just let this stand.”
“Take out your phone,” I tell him, “and write this down.”
Paul does what I ask, amazingly producing his phone from what I thought was a pair of purely water-soaked swim trunks.
When I sense that he is ready to take down what I have to tell him, I say, “this is Mariah’s address.” I repeat it to him from memory. I’ve never seen a guy’s fingers move so fast as they do on his smart phone’s screen. “And this is mine,” I say. I repeat that one for him from memory as well, but it’s obvious he’s not all that present. His mind’s on Mariah.
“Uh-huh,” he says, finishing typing out what I’ve told him. “Got it.”
“That there, what I just had you type?” I say, pretty sure he didn’t get it at all, “that’s for Alex.”
Paul looks at me, but again it really doesn’t click. “Sure. Got it.”
I sigh, making a move to go back in the room. “That’s the only way you’re going to have any chance of saving this with her,” I murmur. And you are my only chance at getting to see Alex again, I think, watching Paul turn and zombie his way down the hall. So, please don’t fuck this up. Nervous, cold sweat starts on my hands. If you do, I might never get to see Alex again!
With that damning thought, I step back into Mariah’s war zone. The minute she sees me, she’s barking orders. “We’re leaving. Now,” she says. “I’m not hanging around here another minute.” She swallows thickly. “I’m not letting my heart get fucked with anymore.”
“Honey,” I say, having to work overtime to hide my exasperation and heartache, “don’t you think you should give him a chance to explain?” I try to grab on to her hand. The one holding the nightgown I just gave her. “It might not be what it looks like, you know.”
“Even if there were some kind of explanation, I don’t want to hear it,” she seethes, pausing over each word. She storms away from me, angrily stuffing clothes on her body. “It’s clear what I’m worth to him.”
I don’t hear anything from her after that after that. Which is fine. It keeps me from having to think too hard about everything I had planned to do with Alex on my final night here. How I’d hoped he’d seduce me into a final round of sex with him, before leaving.
But now all I have to look forward to is packing my bags. Which I do, in cheated, lonely silence. More than once, I want to throw my clothes down, and force her to listen to me. To let me convince her to stay, but I don’t bother. I know she’s too stubborn to listen.
And I’m too depressed to waste the effort.
After our bags are packed, it’s a quick and painless checkout process.
Something I thought I would never hate so much.
Chapter 20
Alex
I’ve just finished putting on my swim trunks. Gotten ready to go down to the hot tub to meet up with Paul, and hopefully, Jane, when I see Paul’s already back in the room. I’ve just stepped out of the bathroom, and already I can see all hell has broken loose.
Paul does nothing but growl and yank at his hair. Pace. Whatever’s happened, he’s too much in his head to even see me, let alone hear me trying to ask him what the fuck happened.
Worse than Paul’s unresponsive mood, however, is the fact that Darla’s here. Standing in the room like a discarded chicken leg dressed in a swimsuit.
>
I ignore her for the time being, and focus on Paul.
“Okay, Paul,” I say, “calm the fuck down. Tell me what happened. Why are you like this?”
Paul whirls on me. “Mariah’s pissed. She fucking hates me, Alex!” He jams an angry, murderous finger at Darla. “And all because this bitch decided to blindside and then corner me in the hot tub!”
Darla clicks her tongue irritably. “Excuse me! I wasn’t the one running away from a simple conversation, Paul!”
“Shut. Up.” Paul says this through a clenched jaw at her. As he does, I’m feeling what he feels: an irresistible urge to throw her out of this room — or worse — out the window. But that would be a crime, and she’s not worth the time.
But it might be, I think morbidly, I have no fucking idea how or if I’m ever going to see Jane again after this. I didn’t ask for her phone number. And that’s usually the first thing I ask a girl when I’m flirting with her!
More of Paul’s words erupt into the air, and thankfully or not, I’m not allowed to think any more about how royally I just fucked up my situation with Jane. And all because of that bitch, right there. Paul’s ex-girlfriend, whose mere presence has been threatening to bring this down the whole goddamn time.
“Mariah saw Darla hanging on me and got the wrong idea,” he says, bringing my eyes back him. “And, rather than let me explain that I want nothing to do with this hoe any longer and that I didn’t invite her into the hot tub, Mariah’s hightailed it out of here.” He drops his head down, looking like he’d rather have it cut off with a blunt razor. “As far as I know, she’s on her way home.”
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