by Criss Copp
“Yes, but I’m not happy; it took me all fucking night!” she seethes.
I’m starting to undo her buttons to her pyjama top.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I question.
“I’m a bit annoyed... I’m not feeling very sexy!” she says.
“Well I’m a little annoyed that you’re not feeling sexy, but since I’m feeling horny, I think we’re good, I’ll still have fun.” I explain.
“I don’t know....oh!” she grunts the ‘oh’ because I’m sucking on her nipple.
“Fuck Ben... oh!” she moans.
I love her breasts; I can’t believe that I thought they were tiny and not sexy when I first saw her. They’re a perfect handful, and her nipples tease up perfectly into tight little buds of perfection. There’s no sag, no overflow, just a perfect handful and softness to groan over.
I slip her pyjamas from her shoulders.
“These are no longer welcome in bed. If you haven’t got something incredibly sexy or kinky like see-through lace and crotch-less undies, don’t wear anything.” I explain.
“Crotch-less undies?” she giggles, but I’m not listening because I’m moving down her body, kissing her stomach and sucking her skin. I pull her pyjama bottoms and undies down, and move back up her body, lying over the top of her as I move, only to return to her nipples and begin devouring them once more, while I rub my cock up against her mound. She’s moaning and wrapping her legs around me, hoping to slip her pussy over the top of my cock and bury me deep inside her, and while that is ultimately what I want too... I want to get my message across about the pyjamas first.
I bring myself up to straddle her... my cock bouncing on the top of her stomach, as I twist the pyjama bottoms around and around until they form a rope.
She’s watching me with a curious glare.
“What are you doing to SpongeBob?” she asks.
“SpongeBob needs to retire.” I explain.
Her eyes go wide. I take the opportunity to grab her hands and with minimal struggle and I tie them up with the middle section of my ‘rope’ which is in fact the crotch part of her pj’s.
“Ben?” she sultrily gasps.
“Red... no more pyjamas, they get in my way!” I reason, as I lean across her and begin to tie her to the headboard.
My cock drags dangerously close to her face, and in a moment of concentration with tying her up, I fail to notice till too late that she has the advantage and has mounted an attack on my cock, by sucking the tip with her mouth like it’s a nipple.
I jump slightly, but I’m quick to recover, although she’s making my cock spasm in pleasure.
Once I’m finished tying her, I’m popping my cock out of her mouth and moving down her body, firstly taking her mouth in mine, and tasting her kisses.
I grab every available pillow then and pile them up under her hips and lift her high, so her pussy is elevated, a perfect height to fuck.
I touch her pussy, watching my fingers play over the folds, dipping inside her vagina, and liberally applying the juice I gather from inside her over her nub; then I’m feeling the inside of her again; and then I insert my middle finger inside her, and I sit down on my feet and settle in to administer a little cataclysm of my own.
With my finger inside her, I push in as far as I can and then I crook it towards her clit, and I begin to slowly slide it inside of her.
“Ben?” she moans.
“Shhh...” I demand.
I bring my other hand up and I place it on her mound above her clit, and I place my thumb on her wet and aroused clit and then splay my fingers across her pelvis, pushing slightly down.
And then I begin to rub her clit; at the same time moving my finger inside of her, willing her G-spot to grow and allow me to stimulate it to mind-shattering bliss for her. I plan on watching... observing her throughout it, before fucking her hard after she comes.
“Ben...” she gasps, as her pleasure begins to mount.
“Shhh...” I croon; continuing with my ministrations. She’s breathing with difficulty, her moans are increasing in intensity, and I can feel the increasing size of her G-spot as it manifests itself more clearly, rising from the wall of her pussy slightly, delineated by the slightly rougher ridge of its presence. Now that I can feel it better, and know I’m stroking her correctly, I concentrate on it; stilling my thumb over her nub, but maintaining a pressure there, and pressing down with my hand on her pelvis.
I apply as much force with my hand to still her pelvis as I can, with the added benefit of heightening her experiencing.
She’s moving... trying to move, against my hands. She’s keening, her vagina has become slick with arousal and her clit is ticking beneath my thumb.
“Do you like that?” I ask, and I’m feeling tingles through my body, watching her unravelling before me. I know she loves what I’m doing to her... my cock is crying in expectation of what await him.
“Aaarrr...” she breathlessly replies.
“Red?” I ask, smiling knowingly.
“Fuck Ben... fuck!” she whispers and then moans, a wailing keen that ascends and continues to climb. My finger is dripping wet now... her walls are already clamping, and I know she’s had two smaller orgasms already, because I’m there, I’m right there monitoring it all.
“Fuck.” She forcibly breathes out, and she begins shaking and screaming and unravelling. Her pelvis is beginning to rock in syncopation and her velvet walls are clamping down on me. She’s now wailing out her screams, and I’m watching her shatter before me, crying out my name and just crying, tears of desperate, destructive pleasure.
Jade.
I feel like I’m traumatized; shattered into a million pieces and the pleasure that is pain that is pleasure has claimed me and made me its slave.
And now Ben is there, between my legs, positioning himself to take advantage of my weakened flesh, and I want him to claim me... to sew me back together and create me again.
My hands are tied, and my inability to touch, feel and control any of this situation heightens the feelings bombarding my heart; tearing at my pelvis and revealing my desperateness to be resurrected by Ben... for surely I’ve experienced the afterlife.
I roar as he enters me, and plunges inside me, he thrusts deep inside me; fucking me... claiming me... loving me.
“Fucking hell Jade!” he screams... he’s thrusting desperately inside me and I feel his cock begin to jerk and I watch his face screw up in desperate need and desire... a pleasurable pain of impending orgasm.
I’m screaming... I can hear it... it sounds like I’m being murdered. He’s joining me in death... screaming in agonised pleasure.
I’m drenched, I’m dripping in sweat and so is Ben, who is afterwards prostrate across me, breathing in great heaving gasps.
“Holy fuck Jade... How could I have ever thought I knew what sex really was before you? I’m so fucking spent... I’m...” he can’t finish.
“Undone.” I finish for him.
He nods... “But at the same time, together... like really together, more than I’ve ever felt together.” He says.
“Me too.” I agree.
“I love you Jade.” He breathes, beginning to lower and release me, starting with the removal of the pillows.
“I love you too Ben... I won’t ever love anyone as much as I love you.” I bargain.
“You’re not allowed to... I’m it for you, you’ve broken me and so you’ve bought me.” He reasons.
I nod... he summed it up perfectly. He leans in and kisses me, and then begins to untie me.
“I’m entirely yours” I tell him. “Every last bit of me.”
***
Bloody government red tape and queues, not to mention scheduled appointments in Canberra and waiting for processing. I picked the single worst time to get my passport and visa applications underway. Every man, woman and child in the country of Australia; have decided it’s a good time to prepare
for their dumbarse Christmas trips, by getting their processing done now. I’m needing it done weeks before them, but it’s a first in first served basis, unless you pay for an urgent application; which I don’t qualify for because apparently you need to have a funeral to go to, an illness requiring urgent medical intervention over there, or you’re running late for classes or work. I am not doing any of those things.
The positive in all of this bullcrap, is that my bank balance is healthy; very healthy, and they can see that there isn’t an issue with me not being able to afford to look after myself in case of mishap. Unless I mistake Las Vegas for LA, and end up in the casinos there, blowing it all on Blackjack.
We’re meant to be going in two weeks, and I’ve only just now received the damn thing back via express delivery this morning.
“Hallelujah...” I say to the courier guy as I sign his little computer screen. “I never thought it would actually come.”
“We hear that a lot.” He says, giving me a smile.
The house is sold, the furniture is either going to the Salvation Army, or we’ve already sold it... we’re sleeping on mattresses on the floor. We’re using plastic plates and cutlery, and we’re buying takeout rather than cooking anymore. I feel like I’m camping inside a house.
Even my clothes are being pulled out of a suitcase; and we use the Laundromat to wash.
I’m glad it’s warmed up, because otherwise it would be ridiculous, I’d need more suitcases.
Ben and I have fought nearly every day about something... usually something dumb; but we’re both feeling the tension. He is getting anxious because until this moment, I couldn’t book a flight, which of course means I can’t fly out with him and Silas... I’m just getting nervous about the whole damn thing.
I am about to go inside, phone him and then get on the internet to look at flights.
“Hello?” he answers.
“It arrived.” I chime.
“It arrived? The US government felt your terrorist conviction wasn’t an issue and ASIO are letting you walk free?” he mocks.
“Not funny... actually, it sort of is, but yeah! I’m all legit... so, I’m hopping online to buy a ticket.” I explain.
“Wait for me. Silas and I are done; we’ll be there in a minute.” He states, before hanging up and I assume, running to get on his bike.
Ten minutes later, I hear them both gunning along the back streets and then roaring up ours.
“Okay... we need to arrange a flight that sees us leaving and/or arriving around the same time.” Ben says, bringing his ticket over and sitting on the floor in the bare lounge room; where I am currently situated on my stomach, with my laptop before me.
“That’s mental... we’re not going to manage that.” I reason.
“It doesn’t have to be the same airline.” He reasons.
We go through everything. We finally settle on paying an extra thousand dollars to get a ticket that will see me get in half an hour after them despite leaving one hour after them from here.
“You’ll have to hang around the airport.” He says.
“So will you... at the other end.” I counter.
“I’ll have company though.” He says.
“True... Silas can be quite entertaining.” I laugh.
He pulls me up off the floor and dumps me on his lap. “I’m so happy this is sorted now.” He says. “I’m sorry for being so grumpy lately.”
“Yeah... you’re a bit of a meanie!” I pout.
He begins to smile, and then he’s trailing his hand up my leg. “I have a mind to spank your arse for that... after I get you naked and in the bathroom.” He threatens.
“No need... I still haven’t got them.” I sigh.
“What does that mean?” he asks.
“I’ll do a pregnancy test and make sure everything is okay... and if it’s negative, I’ll go to the doctor and check things out. Could be stress related.” I reason.
“You’re not worried?” he asks, his eyebrows raised.
“I haven’t really thought about it till now.” I reason, and I haven’t.
“I’m going to go down the road... I’ll be right back.” He says, sliding me off his lap.
I hear the Yamaha fire up, and I then hear Ben leave.
“Where’s Ben off to?” Silas asks, coming up the stairs.
“Probably to get a pregnancy test.” I say, feigning nonchalance, but feeling a little worried now that I’m thinking about it more.
“You’re pregnant?” he gasps.
“I hope not!” I grumble. I’m looking on the internet at contraceptive pill failure rates.
“Is it possible?” he queries.
I groan... “According to this web site it is.” I sigh.
“What does it say?” Silas asks, coming around behind me, but not sitting down.
“Anywhere between a one and five percent failure rate.” I moan.
“Well let’s hope for the sake of a kid you aren’t... you suck at parenting. Look at me!” he says, trying to lighten my mood.
“I’ll probably get an abortion if I am.” I say.
“You what?” Silas gasps.
“You heard... I can’t do this right now.” I reason.
“If it turns out that you are, wait till I go for a ride to see Shae before you tell him that. I don’t want to be anywhere near ground zero when you drop that bomb.” He says.
“Why? He’ll be okay... we already had an incident like this, and he didn’t say a thing. He was really supportive.” I say, giving him a comical look.
“I don’t care what you think... give me a heads up!” he says.
“Okay.” I say, rolling my eyes.
Ben.
She’s been a few minutes in the toilet, and then I hear her... she’s flushing and then she’s opening the door.
“Well?” I ask.
“It’ll take a couple of minutes to show.” She says.
“Where is it?” I ask, following her into the bathroom where she’s washing her hands.
“On the back of the toilet.” She says. She looks like she’s nervous, but then so am I.
“The site that Jade looked up says there’s between one and five percent failure rate for the contraceptive pill.” Silas says, sauntering down the hallway.
“Does that mean we should be buying a lotto ticket if she is, because that’s a sign she’s lucky?” I ask, trying to act light-hearted, but coming off as strained and uncomfortable.
“Where’s the box?” Jade asks.
“Here.” I give it to her. She pulls out a folded piece of paper and unfolds it.
“It’ll have one line if it’s negative and two if positive.” She says, reading the paper. “Pretty easy really.” She sighs.
“Do you want me to look?” I ask.
She goes to open her mouth, and then she closes it and leans into the wall to tap her head on it... a couple of times. “Yes please.” She pleads weakly.
“Okay, I’m going to go and look now then.” I say.
My heart rate is really high. It’s probably nothing. It’s probably one line... I’m overreacting. It won’t say shit!
I enter the tiny closet sized room and look at the stick seated on the cistern.
Fuck... two lines.
“Jade,” I begin to say cautiously, and retreat back out to the hall. I pull her to me and hug her head to my chest.
“Two lines?” she squeaks.
“Yes.” I respond.
“Why?” She begins to wail. “Why me? Why now?” she cries
“Me too, I’m in this too. We’ll figure it out Red.” I say, but I feel flat. This is like the most unexpected thing to have occurred in this moment.
My life recently is like someone said, here... have this great girl, she’s everything you need and all you’ll ever want. But, the journey alongside her will be the hardest fucking obstacle course ever designed in the history of human kind!
“I can’t do this Ben, I can’t do it! This isn’t the right ti
me, this isn’t the right anything!” she moans, her tears soaking my shirt.
“Look, we need to get some distance from this. We need to stand back and then we’ll think about it later. I want to think about stuff, and then we’ll talk. Okay?” I explain and ask.
“Okay.” She responds.
I just hope everything is... okay.
***
“Ben, I’ve got an appointment at a clinic in Broadmeadow today.” Jade says, waking me from a dream in which I was fighting an octopus that was really a spider and trying to suck my insides out.
“What?” I’m groggy, I definitely heard her say that she’s got some clinic appointment, but I don’t know what she’s trying to say.
“I’ve got an appointment; at a clinic!” she repeats.
“What for?” I ask, turning on my side to look at her.
We leave in two days... Jade’s been morose and distant since she found out about the pregnancy, and she’s pretty much stopped being any fun to be around. But I get it. I’m still reeling from the shock myself. But I’ve come to accept it, and I’m kind of happy about it too now.
“It’s a clinic where I can, you know...” she states, not looking at me and not finalising her message. But there’s no need to, I’ve worked out what she’s not saying and I feel sick.
“You’re getting rid of him aren’t you!” I accuse, looking pointedly at her stomach.
“It’s not an anything yet... it’s an it, not a him or a her!” she states.
“We talked about this, you said you’d wait till we got there to decide; that we’d decide together.” I reason.
“It’ll be too late then. Right now it’s classified as a medical abortion... because I can just take a couple of pills under supervision and miscarry. In a few weeks time, I’ll have to have a surgical abortion... it’s more invasive and risky!” she laments.
“When did you know you were going to do this?” I growl.
“What do you mean? I didn’t know till just now!” she says.
“It’s six in the morning Jade, you don’t just decide at six on a Tuesday morning that you’re going to get an abortion and suddenly have an appointment to go to.” I argue, I’m getting worked up.