by C. Hallman
When I’m tired of sucking her tits, I sit up. Grabbing her legs, I pull them up over mine, so I can watch myself as I bury my cock into her warm hole. Fuck, she feels like heaven. I look down at her face, watching every little expression. She looks uncomfortable, but her pussy is drenched. I know she wants this, at least on some level, but she is too much in her head to admit it even to herself.
I keep fucking her like this for a few minutes, thrusting into her with slow but deep strokes. Waiting for her to relax, to moan and pant with need, but she just lies there with her eyes squeezed shut. Her body is stiff, almost like she is fighting with herself, trying not to move or make a sound.
She was like this yesterday when I ate her out, but once I started fucking her, she snapped out of it. I know she fucking came. I felt her pussy clamping down on my cock, and I heard the moans slipping from her mouth. I wonder what is different now because I don’t like this. It’s like fucking a board.
“Tell me how you want me to fuck you,” I demand.
She doesn’t open her eyes or answer, but I can see her throat move like she is swallowing heavily. I grab her hips and slam into her hard.
“Tell me!” I repeat, and her eyes fly open.
“I-I don’t know… I don’t know what you mean.” She looks at me, confused. “This is fine. I don’t want you to… you know… put it in my ass.”
I can’t help but grin like the asshole I am. “I think you would like it.” She stiffens even more at my words, so I ease her mind. “Okay, no anal. So, fucking relax.”
She relaxes a bit, but not as much as I want her to. Maybe it’s this position. I lower myself back down, so I’m stretched out on top of her, resting my head next to hers on the pillow. I feel her body soften almost immediately. Her tight muscles relax, and her thighs fall apart a few inches more. Ah, this is better.
I push all the way back in, hitting the end of her channel. She feels so good like this; I can’t hold back. Sliding my arm under her back, I hold her in place as I pound into her harshly, losing myself in her depths.
Just like last time I fucked her like this, she lets go and stops overthinking it. Her small hands clutch onto my arms, and her legs come around, trying to keep me close. She moans softly under me when I feel her inner muscles clench around my dick. Her nails digging into my skin, and her entire body tightening, drives me over the edge with her. I nestle my face into the crook of her neck and breathe her in while I come deep inside of her.
I let most of my weight rest on top of her as I try to regain control over my breathing. She seems to be content with me on top of her like this since her hands are still on my arms with a loosened grip.
When the blood has drained back from my cock into my brain, I get up. As soon as I pull out of her, I realize that I didn’t use a condom again. Shit.
Noticing my expression, she says, “I think I’m okay, since I took that pill only a few hours ago, but we can’t keep doing this.”
My head nods in agreement, but my dick is already protesting. She just feels so good bare, and the thought of me being the only one who’s been inside of her is a huge turn on. She gets up and walks past me into the bathroom. Putting my sweatpants and T-shirt back on, I take Mojo for a walk.
When I get back, Penny is cleaning up in the kitchen, washing the dishes, and putting the leftovers away. Feeling generous today, I grab an extra pillow from the closet and leave it on the couch. The blanket I used to cover her with this morning is neatly folded on the armrest.
Two good deeds in one day, I’m basically a saint.
“I’ll be gone all day tomorrow. I need you to let Mojo out every few hours.”
She drops a plate in the sink, splashing water all over herself and the counter. “The dog?”
“No, the seven-foot alpaca,” I retort. “Of course, the dog. You don’t have to walk him, just open the back door. He’ll go do his business and then come right back in.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding unsure.
I almost tell her I’ll be leaving ass crack early in the morning and that I am going to bed now, but then I remember I don’t owe her any explanations. With Mojo on my heels, I head into my bedroom and collapse on my bed.
When I get up, it’s still completely dark outside. I get dressed, let Mojo out and feed him. Penny, wrapped in her blanket like a burrito, doesn’t even stir on the couch. Her lips are slightly parted, and her face is relaxed, making her look a few years younger.
She looks more like the girl I used to know now—like the Penny, who treated me as if I was nothing more than an annoyance.
Knocking on the doorframe, I take a step into her room.
“I didn’t say you could come in,” Penny scoffs at me.
“The door was open,” I quip, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“What do you want, Ryder?”she asks with a perpetual condescending tone lacing her voice.
“Do you have an extra pencil or sharpener I can use?
She pushes her glasses up her nose before lifting her chin. “No, I don’t.”
“There are some right there.” I point at her desk, where I see an entire cup with sharpened pencils peeking out.
“I didn’t say that I don’t have any. You asked if I have some you can use… and I don’t. I don’t want you using my stuff. It’s enough that I have to share this house with you. Besides, does anyone even check homework at the school you’re going to?”
Ignoring her snarky comment, I walk to her desk and snatch one of the pencils.
“Hey!” She tries to stop me from leaving the room, but I just keep walking. “I’ll make you regret ever coming here! I hate you!” she sneers and pushes at my back. I guess she decided since she can’t stop me, she might as well help me move faster.
“Thanks, little owl.” Shaking my head, I head back to my room. She bothers me, but I’ll gladly put up with her tantrums as long as I can stay here. This is the first foster home I’ve actually liked. The first one I’ve felt safe. I’ll do anything to be a part of this family, even if it means getting yelled at by Penny.
Little did I know she would succeed in getting rid of me.
The memory feels like a different life, but it still brings back the familiar feelings of hate and frustration, though the emotions are dulled down now.
I originally took her for revenge, I wanted to see her suffer. Although I still want to make her pay in more than one way, I actually like having her here. The thought bothers me, but I can’t help feeling this way. Having pussy available twenty-four-seven is amazing. Being able to do what I want to her and knowing I’m the only one she’s ever had inside of her is the icing on the cake. She is much more tolerable now than she was five years ago. Maybe I’ll send her ex a fruit basket.
This is not a bad deal for me. My house looks nice, dinner was superb, and the sex is, well, the best I’ve ever had… and I’ve had a lot. In the back of my mind, I’m already thinking about some lie I can come up with to keep her here longer.
I drive the truck to the club where Shawn and Tucker are already waiting for me. It’s a two-hour drive to the meeting point, and I’m less than pleased about having to spend four hours in this soccer mom van. Maddox is right, though; this is the most inconspicuous vehicle we could find. Guns are already packed in the back, and as soon as I get there, we pile into the car and hit the road. I want to get this over with and get home. To be honest, I really didn’t want to come today, but I can’t let these two knuckleheads go alone and fuck this up.
“Maddox was pretty pissed at you the other night, what did you do?” Tucker asks.
“I let that chick go who owed us money,” I answer, hoping that his questions end here. Of course, they don’t.
“That was a fine piece of ass, I wouldn’t have minded letting her work that cash off. Why did you let her go so fast? You could have at least given her around one time.” My molars grind together at his words.
“First, I do what the fuck I want. Second, she is working her debt off
… with me.”
“So, wait, you didn’t let her go?”
“I did, but then picked her up from the side of the road when I left. I took her home, fucked her again, and decided that she is a decent enough lay to keep around. I’m forgiving her two hundred for every day she plays my little sex slave until she pays off the five grand.”
“How do you know she won’t just disappear before she pays up?”
“I’m keeping her at my place. She has nowhere else to go. Plus, Mojo is watching her.”
They both burst out laughing.
“You have an in-house hooker?” Shawn asks, and again, I don’t like hearing him calling her that.
Swallowing that feeling down, I answer, covering my annoyance with a playful tone, “Pretty much. I’m not going to lie, it is pretty fucking amazing. Sex, however, and whenever you want.”
“Fuck, I need to get one of those,” Tucker exclaims, and when I look over to him, I can see the gleam in his eyes. He is thinking about all the things he could get away with having a girl at his disposal like that. The thought of having complete control over another person has him grinning darkly. Only one thing is running through my head as I watch him.
You can’t have Penny. She is mine.
5
Penny
I wake up with this weird feeling that someone is watching me. I open my eyes, and my heart stops before restarting itself into an unnatural rhythm. Three inches from my face, a wet-nosed demon dog with sharp teeth and human-looking brown eyes stares at my face.
Sitting up in slow motion, I never take my eyes off the black and brown dog that has a way too large head on its shoulders. My face contorts into an awkward smile, like I could somehow charm the dog with my lame attempts of flirting. Shaking my head, I slowly get up to look around the house. The bedroom door is open, and I don’t see or hear anyone else. Ryder must have already left. I walk to the back door with the blanket wrapped tightly around me and let Mojo out.
Just like Ryder said, he is back at the door and ready to come in a few minutes later. He lazily strolls in and sits in front of me. “I guess it’s just the two of us today.”
I eat some cereal before hopping in the shower and getting dressed. After I finish the rest of Ryder’s laundry, I busy myself reorganizing the cabinets in the kitchen.
Checking the time, I realize it’s already noon. I let Mojo out again before making a turkey sandwich. I cut it in half and sit down to eat. Just when I take the first bite, I see Mojo sitting next to me, looking up expectantly. I slowly lower my sandwich and offer it to him. He snaps it out of my hand, luckily without taking my finger with it, and lies down beside me. Maybe we are friends now.
By the time I’m done eating, I get anxious. I am running out of things to do. I’m alone with nothing to occupy my mind. This can’t be happening. If I stop moving, I’m left with nothing but time to think. Thinking about what I’ve been through and what I’m going through now. Thinking about all the mistakes I’ve made, all the things I’ve lost, and all the struggles the future holds.
Desperate, I pace around the living room. Everything is clean, and all the laundry folded. I need something to do. I glance at the living room cabinet and stalk over to it. In the spur of the moment, I wipe the entire contents of the shelf off with a swipe of my arm.
Mojo looks at me, tilting his head sideways like he is trying to figure me out. I clean up the mess I just made, taking my time to make it last as long as possible. The last thing on the floor is some old book with a binding so old that I can’t make out the title. I pick up the book and flip it open to the first page. There is a ‘this book belongs to’ box in the front with Ryder written under it. It’s obvious a small child wrote it, since it’s in uneven block letters. On the bottom of the same page, it says, To my sweet boy, love Grandma.
My heart squeezes in my chest. I know Ryder stayed with his grandma when he was younger. When she died, he ended up in the foster system. When I was fifteen, I was so selfish and self-absorbed that it never even occurred to me what Ryder must have gone through. I was lucky that my parents adopted me when I was so young. They were wonderful parents to me, and they were good foster parents to Ryder—until I messed everything up.
I flip to the next page, which has the title: Peter Pan’s Adventures. I shut the book with a heavy heart, remembering all the pain I’ve caused Ryder and my family.
“Penny, come and sit with us,” someone calls, and I walk faster past the group of guys hanging out in front of the local gas station. I’ve seen these guys before, they go to public school with Ryder, and my mom told me to stay away from them more than once. Bad influence, she had said.
I usually don’t even walk home this way, but the other way, the safer way, is much longer, and it’s raining today. My clothes are already soaked, and my toes feel like they’re about to freeze off.
Because of the heavy rain, I don’t hear when one of those guys comes up behind me. He grabs my arm and spins me around abruptly. “I was talking to you.”
With shaking fingers, I push my heavy glasses up my nose. “I need to go home,” I say meekly.
“Don’t be like this, come sit with us.” His eyes roam down my body, lingering where the sweater is clinging to my breasts, and I feel my cheeks heat. I’m not used to this kind of attention, and to make matters worse, the guy in front of me is really cute.
“I need to go home,” I repeat shyly, trying to take a step back, but he tightens his grip on my arm and pulls me closer to him. So close that I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
“And I need you to come sit with me.” He grins, not budging, and only then does actual fear make an appearance.
“Let her go, Keller,” a familiar voice calls, and I turn my head to find Ryder walking toward us like he is on a war mission. The guy, which I assume is his friend, lets go of me with a shove, and my shoulders sag in relief.
A moment later, Ryder is by my side, replacing his friend’s hand with his own. Holding on to my arm, he drags me away from the gas station and down the sidewalk.
“I didn’t need your help. I was fine,” I say under my breath as we head to our shared home.
“Didn’t look like you were fine,” Ryder growls, right before someone shoves him from behind. Ryder lets go of my arm and spins around at the same time. I stumble back and watch helplessly as two of the guys hit Ryder in the face.
Everything happens so fast I have a hard time keeping up. One minute we are walking, the next, Ryder gets attacked, and then Ryder tackles one of the two, slamming his body to the ground harshly. The guy’s head bounces off the ground like a basketball, and his eyes roll back before he passes out.
The other guy, Keller, Ryder called him, is still throwing punches. Ryder dodges most of them until he catches one of the flying fists and twists Keller’s arm. He groans, his face turning into a mask of agony as he falls to his knees.
Ryder takes this opportunity and starts smashing his fist into Keller’s face over and over again until his face is unrecognizable. Until Keller passes out and Ryder’s knuckles drip with blood that isn’t his own. Until the police sirens are closing in on the scene and the life I knew has ended.
When I set the book back on the shelf, and the last image of that distant memory leaves my mind, my hands are shaking and unsteady. Why couldn’t I have just told the truth about what happened that day? All I had to do was tell the truth.
Something slides out from in between the pages just as I place the book where it was before. I watch the picture float to the floor like a leaf falling off a tree in the fall time. I pick it up and hold it with trembling fingers. Four familiar faces stare back at me: Ryder, myself, and my parents.
The ache in my chest instantly becomes too much. Unable to look at it, I hastily slide the picture back and return the book to its earlier spot. Trying to push all those unwanted memories away, I look around the house for something else to do.
It starts with a single tear escaping and ends with my
vision blurring and my head throbbing in pain. I’ve been doing so good keeping everything bottled up. I’ve shed some tears here and there, but nothing like I am doing now.
With nobody here and nothing to do, I can’t hold back the flood of emotions. I’m on the floor in the fetal position, crying so hard that my whole body shakes. Wave upon wave of sorrow and despair hit me, making me feel like I’m drowning, unable to keep my head above water.
A large wet tongue drags over my face, leaving slobber and dog breath behind on my skin. Prying my eyes open, I find Mojo inches away from my face. I sob as tremors are still shaking my body. Mojo lets out a low whimper and lies down next to me. I put my hand on his back, letting my fingers glide through his soft fur. He scoots closer to me until his large, fluffy body is pushed up against mine completely.
Putting my arm around him and burying my face in his thick coat, I realize that I’ve stopped crying. My body is relaxing, and my mind is calming down. I’m almost drifting off to sleep when I hear the front door open and shut. Unable to move, I hold on to Mojo. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to want to get up either.
“Traitor!” Ryder’s voice booms through the room.
I look up and see him standing in front of us, shaking his head at Mojo. Apparently, unfazed by my wailing on the floor, he says, “You look like shit.”
I feel like shit too.
I hate that Ryder is witnessing this. I’m at the lowest point in my life, and he has a front-row seat to the main event. Of course, I’m the creator of this. I can never forget that. I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it. I can’t really be mad at him for enjoying this.
Still looking down at us, he orders, “Get up.”
Oh god, I don’t want to have sex right now. I just want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Despite my aching body, and my havoc mind, I get up just like he wants. My movements are jerky and slow, but Ryder doesn’t complain about me moving at a low speed.