by Gemma Weir
Writhing beneath me, her body moves instinctually, her hips grinding against my hand, riding my fingers as her pussy continues to clamp down on me. I want to push her higher, see how much I can get her to give herself over to me. I want to touch her everywhere and drive her wild with my thumb in her ass, my fingers in her pussy, and my tongue on her clit, but I don’t want to let her slip off this cliff of pleasure she’s atop of.
I want my dick inside her more than anything else, so I tamp down my desire and instead double my efforts to make her orgasm again, tipping her over the edge when I pinch her clit and bite her nipple, basking in the scream that escapes her lips.
“I need to fuck you now, you good with that Priss?” I ask, rolling up onto my knees and quickly unbuttoning my jeans, pushing them off, leaving me naked, my dick rock hard, precum dripping from the tip.
“Priss,” I say again, my voice stern, needing to hear her consent.
“Yes, god yes,” she pants, her eyes closed, her chest heaving, her nipples pink and swollen.
“Thank fuck,” I rasp, positioning myself between her legs. Grabbing my dick, I slide the head between her folds, coating myself in her arousal before I grip her thighs, pulling her closer, and let myself slide into her.
She’s hot and wet and so fucking tight that I barely get the head of my cock inside of her before she clamps her muscles trapping me. “Relax Priss,” I growl.
I didn’t realize it was possible but my dick actually gets harder when her eyes snap open at my command and her gaze locks with mine.
“Let me in,” I say, thrusting a little and waiting as she exhales slowly and the vice grip she has on my dick loosens slightly. “That’s it, good girl,” I praise, pushing in deeper until I hit the barrier of her virginity.
“So tight, fucking perfect,” I praise, moving my thumb to her clit and rubbing circles over the tiny bundle of nerves. Her breathing hitches, that hint of discomfort being replaced with lust as I feel wetness pulse around my dick. I want to slam forward, to take her hard and fast, to fuck her like I hate her. But I’m not that much of a bastard. Instead I tell her all the dirty, depraved things I want to do to her body, until she’s on the verge of another orgasm, then I pull out and thrust forward, filling her in one movement until her cunt is full of my dick.
Her eyes close as she hisses with the pain, a tear rolling down her cheek and landing on her lips that are clenched together in a hard line.
“That’s it Priss, just breathe, you’re such a good girl, you’ve taken my dick so fucking perfectly,” I coo, giving her a minute to get used to the feeling of me inside of her before I move.
After a second her face begins to relax and I carefully pull out and gently slide back into her. “Open your eyes,” I order. Fuck she’s perfect. Her eyes open and she stares at me, trusting me completely in this moment even though we’re practically enemies. I keep moving, careful, shallow thrusts that make my balls ache with the need to take her properly.
Taking a tight hold of my control I fuck her gently, waiting until her pupils dilate again with pleasure and all of the pain is gone from her face. “Bend your knees, lift up your legs, and hold them up with your hands,” I growl. Just like I knew she would, she complies and I reward her by leaning down and taking her nipple into my mouth.
Then I start to fuck her properly, rolling my hips as I thrust in and out of her, not as violently as I’d like, but harder than I should. “God yeah,” I rasp. “I can feel your cunt fluttering around me. You want to come on my dick don’t you Priss, you want to milk my cock and make me fill you up with my cum.”
Her reply is nothing more than a garbled moan as her head thrashes from side to side and her fingers hold on to me tightly like she thinks me stopping right now is even an option. I growl, the sound a primal noise that I’ve never heard before as I fuck her faster, harder, rubbing her clit as I plough into her, needing her to come before I do.
“Come on Priss, scream for me. I want you to scream my fucking name while I own your cunt,” I snarl, demanding her compliance.
“Ahhh,” she whines.
Leaning back I lift her ass up off the bed, gripping her tightly as I pull her on and off my dick. When she tenses I know she’s close. My thumb finds her clit and I circle, once, twice, and then she screams. Her pussy clamps down on my dick, making me come so hard I cry out as she spasms around me. Her cunt pulses, trapping my dick in a vice grip, and I come hard until every drop of cum is drained from me and I fall forward panting and gasping for air.
“Oh my god,” Priss rasps, letting her legs fall to the sides as she covers her sweating face with her hand, her body becoming lax.
Carefully I pull out of her, watching my cum drip from her cunt and both hating and loving the feeling of ownership that fills me. Falling to her side I drag her to me, needing to have her close to me while our breathing settles and our bodies cool. That was the most intense sexual experience of my life.
My eyes fall on the camera still recording at the end of the bed and I grab the remote and turn it off. I need a copy of that video. Priss is silent, her head resting on my chest and I want to hold her close, to kiss her and tell her how fucking perfect she is, but now that it’s done and she’s no longer a virgin it feels wrong to do something so intimate. Instead I lift my hand and stroke my fingers through the strands of her honey blonde hair, closing my eyes and basking in this moment, knowing that soon it will all be over.
6
Carrigan
I don’t know at what point I fall asleep, but when I wake up my body feels sticky with a mix of dried sweat and the results of the sex I just had with Carson Windsor. The hot, strange, painful, wonderful, world ending sex.
I’ve known for years that I wasn’t going to get to have the casual sexual relationships normal people my age have. I’ve built up this idea of how my first time would be in my head; knowing that it was unlikely I’d be in love with the first person I shared my body with. I’d assumed it would be awful, that I’d be nervous and mentally distanced from the act, that it would just be one more thing to endure to get the inheritance.
But what just happened with Carson was nothing at all like I’d imagined. I’m not a total weirdo, I’ve touched myself, explored my own body to see what feels good. I’ve given myself orgasms, or at least I thought I had, but they were nothing like the way Carson made me feel.
This boy that I don’t like, who doesn’t like me, made me orgasm so hard my entire body shook, and he didn’t just do it once, he made me come four times. Four times! I’ve never even gotten close to twice in a row on my own and he just kept making me scream over and over.
The actual sex part hurt, at least at the start, but by the end it was amazing, so unlike anything I could ever have imagined and now my body feels sore and relaxed all at the same time. Closing my eyes for a second, I bask in the feel of his chest beneath my cheek. I shouldn’t be cuddling with him, this was just about ridding me of my virginity and breaking the will, but I can’t help feeling close to him right now.
I always assumed I could make sex just something else to deal with, like every other aspect of my great-grandfather’s will, but I was wrong. Even though he didn’t kiss me, everything about what we just did was intimate and I was an idiot to think it wouldn’t be.
Five more seconds and I’ll move. I’ll get up, take a shower and wash my body clean of him, then I’ll leave. Keeping my breathing steady and even, I try not to wake him. For at least the next few moments I need to pretend that he doesn’t hate me, that he doesn’t know how terrible a person I am. I need to pretend that we had sex, that I gave him my virginity, because we care about each other and not because I literally didn’t have any one else I could ask.
Sighing wearily I move, trying not to wake him as I peel my naked body from his. Wincing slightly as the soreness between my legs, my movements are slow and careful. When I glance down at the boy in the bed I’m surprised to find his eyes open and watching me, but he doesn’t smile and h
e doesn’t say anything when I grab my discarded clothes from the floor and cross the room to the bathroom.
The hot water washes away the blood and dried semen from my inner thighs and I cringe at how beat up I feel considering all I did was lie on my back and let him do all the work. A blush fills my cheeks as I remember the things he said to me, the things he said he wanted to do to me. I’ve never really thought about dirty talk, I guess I never considered the guy I would end up married to would be like that, but I can’t deny how much it turned me on.
Everything Carson did turned me on. Before my sister got involved with Arlo Lexington, I’d never said more than three words to Carson Windsor. I’ve always known who he was, his family are on the list. But either my parents decided they didn’t want his family or his family weren’t interested, because my mom has never even mentioned him in terms of a potential husband.
There’s shampoo and body wash already in the shower and I use them, skimming my hands over my skin and letting my mind wander to the way he touched me. He could have just got me naked and had sex with me, it’s what I’d been expecting, but he took care of me.
“I want to own you. Until this is over I want your soul to belong to me.” His voice drifts into my head and I have to swallow past the lump in my throat.
He warned me, but I was too far gone to heed his words. He did what he said he would, he owned me. The scary thing is that I think a small part of me will always be his now, that when he took my virginity, he took a tiny part of me with it and I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back, or if I even want to.
Turning off the water I search for a towel, eventually finding a pile of clean, black, fluffy ones in a closet and wrapping one around myself. I allow myself a moment to dwell on everything that’s happened so far today and how much more will happen before the day is done. Then I dry myself off, redress in the clothes Carson and I bought this morning, minus the panties that seem to have gone missing, and then walk out of the bathroom with my head held high.
The bedroom is empty when I enter it and I freeze, expecting to find Carson still in bed, his impassive face watching me. Scanning the space my eyes fall on the tripod. The camera has gone too and fear bursts to life in my stomach. He wouldn’t take the video, would he?
No. He wouldn’t do that. He wants me to break the will for my sister, he wouldn’t take the only proof I have that I’m no longer a virgin. Opening the door, I walk into the living room and the breath I’d been holding bursts from me in a relieved huff as I spot him sitting shirtless on the couch, the video camera in his hands.
His body is unbelievable, I noticed it earlier when he took his shirt off, but there’s something about watching him like this that makes him even more attractive. He’s beautiful. Short deep auburn hair so dark I’d always thought it was brown until today when he was above me, his body joined with mine.
His jaw is covered in a light stubble a few shades lighter than his hair but it does nothing to disguise how strong it is. He doesn’t look like an eighteen-year-old boy, he looks like a man, and I have to swallow down the desire that’s sparking back to life within me.
Frozen in the doorway I notice he’s wearing grey sweatpants now, not the jeans he took off earlier, and his chest is a bare expanse of smooth, hard muscle except for a tattoo over his heart. Honestly I’m not a fan of tattoos, years of listening to my mother’s disgust at them has tempered my opinion, another thing I didn’t realize her influence has affected.
But I’ve never actually seen a tattoo on a real person before either. If I knew him better, or at all, I’d cross the room to him and ask to look at it properly, from this distance I’m not even sure what it is, all I can make out is that it’s colorful, reds and blues and oranges.
He hasn’t noticed me yet, his eyes are on the camera in his hands, his lips parted slightly as he watches. It’s only then that I realize he’s watching the tape of us. Horrified, my feet move without thought and I march toward him, snatching the camera from his hands and clutching it to my chest, fumbling to turn the video off.
“What are you doing?” I cry.
His smile is slow and languorous. “You know what I was doing Priss. Sit, we can watch it together.”
“No,” I gasp, mortified by the idea of watching a video of us having sex. “It’s bad enough that it even exists. That it even happened. I never want to watch it,” I shout, my voice becoming cold and angry, and so much like my mother’s that I internally cringe at the sound.
“Wow it didn’t take long for that sweet nervousness to wear off did it,” he drawls, leaning back on the sofa, his body language mockingly relaxed, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “For a minute I thought a good fuck had mellowed you into becoming an almost decent person, obviously I was wrong.”
Inhaling sharply I’m surprised by how much his barb hurts. But it shouldn’t surprise me. We’re nothing to each other, not friends or lovers and this was just sex. An act between two consenting adults, a means to an end. “We both know I’m not a decent person Carson, a few orgasms was never going to change that,” I barb back, hating myself, but needing the familiar mask of superiority to hide behind.
Crossing to the other side of the living room I sink down into one of the couches and look at the video camera. My hands shake as I check that the video is still there, playing it for a second to make sure it works before turning it off and placing it in my lap. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him. Now this is done I just need to get away from here, away from him and all these feelings that are swirling around inside of me.
Pulling my cell out, I click into the Uber app and order myself a cab, relieved when it says that the driver will be here in less than five minutes. Rising gracefully, I ignore Carson’s probing gaze as I make my way back to the bedroom.
The blood stain on the bedsheets immediately grabs my attention, I hadn’t noticed it when I came out of the bathroom earlier but now it’s all I can see. Bright red against the white sheets. My eyes widen as I fixate on it. I’m not a virgin anymore. Despite knowing that it happened, feeling it in my body, and having a video to prove it, until this moment as I stare at the evidence on the sheets, I hadn’t really processed that I had sex.
My chest tightens as panic swells inside of me and before I even realize what I’m doing I’m ripping the sheets from the bed and balling them up as small as I can get them. Grabbing my shoes and purse I hold them to my chest as I rush from the bedroom. “I’m going to find a trashcan,” I announce, as I rush past Carson and make a beeline for the door that leads onto the deck of the boat.
Dropping my shoes to the floor I shove my feet into the ridiculous pink sneakers and move, descending the slim gangway that leads down onto the marina. Trying to maintain what little dignity I have left, I rush to the huge dumpsters on the other side of the parking lot, open the lid, and throw the sheet inside before slamming it closed again.
With my eyes tightly shut, I suck in a sharp gasp. I need to leave, to get away from all the tension that’s inside that boat with Carson. My cell beeps and I glance down at the screen, almost crying with gratitude and feeling a layer of tension fall away from me when I realize it’s a text telling me my Uber driver has arrived.
Glancing back at Carson’s boat I find him stood on the deck watching me, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his expression hard and shuttered. Lifting my hand in the biggest asshole move ever, I wave at him, “Thank you for the help,” I shout, then I turn and exit the marina, climbing straight into the waiting cab without looking back.
7
Carson
What the fuck just happened? Did she seriously just say, “Thank you for the help,” and then leave without another word? My eyes are still trained on the marina entrance, the one she just left through after she climbed straight into a waiting cab, after throwing my bedsheets in the dumpster.
How the hell did things get so fucked up, so fast?
Twenty minutes ago she was asleep, naked on my chest
, my cum drying on her freshly devirginized cunt, and now she’s gone without anything other than a ‘Thank you for the help’.
Anger courses through my veins until I’m pacing the deck, my hands balled into fists at my sides. I knew she was a cold-hearted bitch, but this, this is beyond anything I thought she was capable of. Forcing my feet to stop moving, I shake my head. This is exactly what I should have expected. Carrigan Archibald is a manipulative, calculating bitch. She needed something from me and now she doesn’t, simple as that.
I need to stop thinking this was more than it was. She asked me to help solve a problem and I did. It was just sex. Fucking out of this world, blow my mind sex, but it was still just sex.
Except touching her and feeling the way her tight pussy clung to my dick was epic. Watching the video like a voyeur as she cried out my name, her body writhing beneath me, completely under my control, is quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Better than even the filthiest of porn I’ve ever watched.
I shouldn’t have sent a copy of it to my cell, but I just couldn’t help myself, because the thought of her deleting it after she breaks the will is unthinkable to me. I’ll never tell a soul I have it, but I’ll know, and I already know I’ll watch it again.
Unwilling to wash the smell of sex and her off my body I don’t shower, instead I pull on a shirt and slide my feet into my sneakers before cleaning up the food bags and locking up. Once I’m in my car I pull out my cell to text her and realize I don’t even have her cell number. A wry laugh falls from my lips and I slam my palms against the steering wheel in frustration.