I started riding his cock again, leaning my hands back on his hard thighs and using them as leverage to push myself up and down. With every stroke in this position I could feel his entire shaft filling me up as his balls pressed against my ass. He slid his hands down from my breasts and used them to massage my ass for a bit before sliding a hand around front and searching out my clit. He knew that he had found it when I cried out. Now as my pussy clamped around his hard shaft and I rode him hard, he pinched and pulled and rubbed at my clit. It was the most fucking awesome sensation that I’d ever felt.
I could feel a tingling at first that spread from my clit to the rest of my pussy. It slowly climbed its way up to my belly and then a huge build-up of tension surged through my body.
“Oh God, Tristan…Oh Fuck! Oh God!”
I sat straight up so that my pussy was pressing tightly down into his groin as I came. He stopped rubbing my clit and moved his hands up to my hips, guiding me gently as I continued to rub against him. He slid one hand down and grasped my right wrist in his hand and moved it around to the front of my body. He pressed my hand into my pussy and knowing instantly what he wanted I started rubbing my clit while I was still grinding down into him. I reached around with the other hand and moved that one down between my legs as well. I cupped his balls and began squeezing them softly. He let out the loudest sound I’d heard him make yet. It was almost animalistic and suddenly I felt him pick me up off of him and stand me up on my feet.
He sat back down and he leaned back into the couch and said, “Put your lips on my cock, Elly. Suck it for me baby. I can’t stop thinking about your lips on my cock.”
I dropped to my knees happily and took the shaft of his cock in one hand and guided it into my mouth. He was coated with my juices and I loved that I could taste myself on him. I reached down and continued playing with his balls while I kissed and licked the fleshy tip of his cock. I sucked lightly on it as I worked my lips around it.
He was moaning and moving his hips up and down as he grabbed my hair in his hands and said, “Oh fuck Elly! That’s it! It feels so fucking good!”
That spurred me on and I started to suck harder, running my tongue back and forth quickly along the underside of the tip. He was grunting louder as I sucked it in deeper, as far as I could. While the head of his cock was brushing against the back of my throat I continued sucking and massaging the shaft with my tongue.
He was pumping his hips so I moved my hands from his balls up to his shaft and put one on each side and let him push himself into my mouth. I sucked on him harder as he fucked my mouth ad I could feel his body begin to quiver and shake and his cock to swell in my mouth. I wanted to see his face when he came so I opened my eyes to look up at him and when I did, everything bad in my life came rushing back.
I pulled my mouth up off of him abruptly and did a double take to make sure I’d seen what I thought I had. It took him a few seconds to be able to speak.
When he could, he said, “What? What the fuck happened, don’t stop…fuck, please don’t stop.”
Lying on top of the pile of shit he’d raked off the couch earlier were two things I’d hoped to never see again, a crack pipe and a marijuana bong.
“This is not fucking happening to me again,” I said. I stood up and rooted around on the floor for my clothes. Tristan was looking at me like I’d lost my mind.
“What the fuck is going one? Elly, fucking talk to me, what happened?” I couldn’t talk to him. I didn’t want to. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and all I wanted was out of there. I slid my panties on and slipped on my shoes then grabbing my purse, I headed for the door.
Tristan stood up then and started after me with his erection still leading the way. I didn’t stop moving until I got downstairs and into my car. I started it quickly and drove home.
Chapter Thirteen
Tristan
I don’t know what the hell happened. One minute I’m in the middle of fucking Nirvana, getting the best blow job I’d ever had and the next, this crazy chick is throwing on her clothes and running out the door.
All she said was, “Not again!” What the hell did that mean? I tried to go after her. All I wanted was for her to turn around and tell me what the hell had just happened. Did she see a fucking mouse down there on the floor or what? If that was the case, I’d have the place fumigated. I just wanted her to come back.
Realizing that I was too naked to chase her down the hall I stopped in the doorway and hollered after her. She was quick though and I think she was already downstairs and out the front by the time my old neighbor, Mrs. Stromboli walked by. I smiled at her. I’d forgotten for a second that I was not only naked but I still had a fucking hard-on. She looked at me like I was some kind of creepy pervert, but she actually stopped in the middle of the hall and stared at me for a good twenty seconds before she moved on. I’d be willing to bet she’d never seen anything like it. My cock was aching so badly I considered inviting the old, fat Italian woman inside. The old adage, any port in a storm didn’t quite cover Mrs. Stromboli.
I finally stepped back and closed the door. I walked over to where Elly had been kneeling and looked down at the floor. On top of the clothes and shit were a crack pipe and a bong. Go figure, when I was actually looking for that shit I couldn’t find it. Was that it? Was she that fucking upset to find out I indulged on occasion, or was she one of those rehab Nazi’s who used to be an addict and after they get clean they refuse to be in the same room with someone who uses…if only recreationally. I knew she was a pretty straight arrow, but I wouldn’t figure she would be that tight-assed about things.
I sat back down on the couch. I didn’t know what the fuck to think and the truth was that it was because I didn’t know her at all. She was a complete mystery to me other than the fact that she was the sexiest woman I’d ever laid eyes, hands or cock on. I knew that I couldn’t just let her walk out of my life. I’d never happen up on another woman who makes me feel as good as she does and looks as good as she does doing it.
I wrapped my hand around my throbbing cock and closed my eyes. I pictured Elly’s pretty face and then in my mind I began to travel down her body. I started stroking my cock as I pictured her trying to immerse myself in the memory of her sweet lips wrapped around it. The way she played with my balls while she sucked on me was so fucking hot….I felt like there were going to suddenly bust open and semen was going to pour out at any second…they were so fucking tight. I stroked it and rubbed it and pictured Elly at every angle. I still couldn’t get off and the frustration was mounting inside of me.
“Arrrgh! Fuck! Shit!” I couldn’t get it back. I wasn’t going to be able to get off now. Not without her. I fucking needed her and it pissed me off.
I kicked the pile of shit that I’d thrown off the couch. It felt good to release some aggression so I kicked it again, harder. That time the crack pipe flew across the room and shattered against the table leg. I kicked at the pile again and this time the bong broke. I didn’t give a fuck. The only thing I wanted…the only thing I needed, just walked out the mother fucking door.
MY ROCK #3
Chapter One
Elly
Molly and I were setting up for round five. As we were stringing electrical cords across the room to plug in the sound systems, she was gushing about her new boyfriend. He was fairly new, anyways; they’d been seeing each other for about three months, but it had only recently begun to turn serious. He was a guy named Rob who, of course, sounded like a saint. Why was it that when I was having the worst time with a man, everyone around me chose to be so happy? It was annoying. I didn’t begrudge Molly her happiness. I really liked her and it was good to see her so happy. I hoped that it stayed that way and she had truly found her Mr. Right. I just wondered why I couldn’t be lucky enough to meet a nice guy and actually be attracted to him. Perhaps I was just a glutton for punishment. Back in my high school days, my mother used to tell me that the reason I was attracted to the bad boys was because I had a dri
ve or a need to fix them. She also tried to tell me that everyone couldn’t be fixed, and that some people didn’t want to be. I probably should have listened to her more back then.
“What does he do?” I asked Molly about the new boyfriend.
“He’s a cameraman for an independent film crew. They make YouTube videos, mostly, but their movies are getting literally millions of hits. It started out as an unpaid internship. He just graduated from UC San Diego in June, though and they hired him right away. I met his boss last week. He alluded to the fact that he might have a position for me when I finish this internship.”
“Wow! That’s great,” I told her. “Dan sounds ambitious, and kudos to you, too!”
“He is, and thank you. I‘m so happy about his drive to succeed. I’m not worried about whether or not a guy I’m seeing makes a ton of money, but the last guy I hooked up with couldn’t even keep a job. He’s nearly thirty now; the last time I saw him, he was still sponging off his parents. He was a jerk, too. Not Dan, though. He’s sweet and smart and sexy and funny and drop-dead gorgeous!”
I laughed, “I think somebody is in love.”
“Not quite yet,” she said. “But I’m headed fast in that direction. Speaking of in love, what about you and Tristan? How’s that going?”
I curled my lip and said, “That’s far from love, trust me. Not even in the same ballpark,” she laughed.
“That bad, huh? Is it because of the show?”
“No….I mean, I’m always conscious that seeing him is a problem because of that. But that’s not the real issue. I’d more or less decided that I’d be okay with seeing him on the down low, which I was doing. I was at his house the night of the party…and we were….”
“Naked and nasty?” Molly said with a laugh.
“Shut up! No!” I could feel my face turning red, possibly because I was lying. She actually had it right. “We were kissing, I happened to glance down and there was a crack pipe and a bong on the floor, mixed in with a pile of laundry he’d swept off the couch.”
“Ew, a crack pipe? That’s a little….ew…” I was glad she understood.
“Yeah, I know. I may have not been so upset about the marijuana, but crack is a whole different ballgame. I’m pretty sure that’s it for us. I have history with an addict boyfriend and I’ve had some problems myself….I’m not up for doing that again.”
“What did Tristan say about it? Did he try to say it was ‘a friend’s’ or something? Or did he admit to it?”
I was embarrassed again. “I didn’t even ask him about it…I just left.”
“Wow, you just literally walked out?”
I didn’t think telling her that I had to stop and put my clothes on was important. I just said, “Yeah, I just wanted out.”
“Did he come after you, or at least call you and find out what was going on?”
“He chased me out into the hall. He was….okay, fine, we were naked,” I said, mortified yet again. Molly laughed; I could always count on her for that.
“I’m sorry. It’s not funny…okay, it’s a little funny. I’m assuming you were dressed? I just have a hard time imagining you being okay with running home naked.” She could not suppress her giggles.
“Yes, Molly, I was dressed,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But I got dressed fast and he was a little surprised. I should have talked to him, I know. I just suddenly felt like history was repeating itself and I couldn’t breathe…I could hear him calling after me and I even heard him tell one of his neighbors to mind their own fucking business. As usual with me and Tristan, it was a lovely evening.”
Molly was busting up laughing now. With my eyebrow raised and my arms folded I waited for her to calm down. She apologized again as she wiped the tears from her eyes, “I’m sorry…I’m just thinking what fun it must be to live in that building.”
I rolled my eyes and said, “It’s not all that, trust me.” I was lying. The sight of him fully clothed set my soul on fire. Molly acted like she didn’t hear that anyways.
She went on to say, “I heard a lot back when he was famous about rehab and all that. I mean, I didn’t really hear it, but I read a lot of those teenage rags they sell at the supermarket. Who knows how much of it is true. I did always wonder, especially in a case like his where he’s so talented, what makes someone think the drugs are more important than everyone and everything else in their life. You kind of wonder what the trigger is for some people, you know?”
“I do know, from experience.” I didn’t talk about my past much, but I trusted Molly. “My first really serious boyfriend died a couple of years ago. I was devastated. I started doing a lot of coke, getting so wound up that I’d have to take pills or smoke a lot of marijuana to come down. I was a mess. The trigger for me was his death…but the drugs quickly took control. Then the coroner’s report came back and I found out that he’d overdosed on meth; I realized then that I was hurt, but if I lived, I’d get over it. I didn’t want to die, so I told my parents what was going on; they helped me find a rehab facility. Thank god for their support. It was a good place and I learned a lot. I wonder sometimes how someone like Tristan could have gone to facilities like that so many times and still choose to use.”
Molly put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a quick squeeze. “Wow, I’m sorry for your loss, Molly. That had to be tough. Good for you though, cleaning up your act—you’ve got a lot to be proud of. As far as Tristan goes, maybe whatever was driving him to use was still a problem when he got out of rehab. It’s about forgetting things and being numb right? It’s easy to not use when you don’t have to deal with the situation, but if you put someone right back into it, well, you know. You used because you didn’t want to feel the pain your boyfriend’s overdose caused you. You were able to find a way to cope with that and you moved on. He has to have something in his past, or even something that’s still going on now, that still hurts him, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I guess it’s easy to look in from the outside and think someone has everything and shouldn’t have a worry in the world yet have no idea what they’re really going through. I try really hard not to judge people, but sometimes it’s easy to forget that.”
“I also read stories about his parents mismanaging his money and giving him pills. If that’s all true, it’s really sad. It sounds like he didn’t have any kind of support system growing up. You sound like you have great parents. My family is pretty good, too. Tristan’s family doesn’t sound so put together. That is, if what you read in the gossip columns are true.” Molly shrugged her shoulders. She had some good points.
“Yeah, it is sad.” I suddenly felt like a terrible person. I had judged him based on some paraphernalia I saw on the floor of his apartment. I should have stopped and talked to him. I should have given him a chance to talk to me. I had run away from a guy who, more than likely, really needed a friend. Molly had made some really good points. Maybe if he had some support, he wouldn’t be so messed up. Maybe I was too worried about myself and what I’d gone through to be a good friend—or any kind of friend at all. I needed to rethink walking away from him. I suddenly wondered how I would feel if I read about his overdose in the paper someday and I hadn’t even offered him a friendly ear to talk to.
Chapter Two
Tristan
It was the night of round five. I was filled with nervous energy and having a hard time sitting still. The traffic in the waiting room was getting thinner and I was glad there were fewer talentless idiots to deal with. I felt like I was ready for it. I’d written my own song and the band had done a great job of playing the music I’d written and helping me tweak a few parts so it all pulled together more smoothly. I wished that it was all I had on my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about Elly and what had happened the last time I saw her.
She had looked at me when I walked in. I think she expected me to say something to her about the other night. I had plenty to say that night if she’d come back, but it was a moot point by then. I co
uld admit that I got a little freaked out when she just left like that. I even went back out into the hallway one more time, hoping she came back. I saw the elevator sliding closed and I thought it was her so I yelled out her name a few times. That attracted the attention of my nosy ass neighbors. Mrs. Stromboli had already gotten a sweet show and the rest of them wanted some of it now. I was still butt ass naked, but I didn’t give a fuck. The people that lived in that building were nothing but trash anyways. I turned to walk back into my apartment and I saw the man who lived in the apartment next door to me glaring at me through a crack in his door. I kicked the door before I went back inside and told him to “Mind his own fucking business.” I didn’t give a fuck if they liked me or not; at least three times a week I had to listen to him and his old lady fighting or the chick across the hall having multiple, loud orgasms…while her husband was at work. Fuck ‘em all.
I’d stormed back into my apartment and closed the door, wondering why it bothered me so badly that Elly had walked out. It was true that she was the best piece of ass I’d ever had, but I needed to remind myself that she was most definitely not the only one. Hot chicks who liked to fuck were pretty much a dime a dozen, and sitting in the waiting room backstage, I thought I’d just found another one.
This girl was twenty-two; she had blonde hair that hung down to her waist, a nice round ass, and massive tits. I remember seeing her the first day of try-outs and thinking I wouldn’t mind tapping that ass while I had my hands wrapped up in that silky mane of hers. I hadn’t done anything about it yet because I’d been focused on the contest and busy fucking Elly every chance I got.
That’s where I had gone wrong. I knew that when you started fucking one girl all the time she started thinking that she was your girlfriend and making subtle changes in your life. It all starts messing with your head. There’s only one head I wanted in my ‘relationships’ and that’s the one in my pants.
Dirty Stepbrother - A Firefighter Romance (The Maxwell Family) Page 35