7. Magical Dick Reasons
Chapter seven
Magical Dick Reasons
J P was not the only one who took winning seriously.
Unfortunately, JP’s prize for winning the race was better than mine. I didn’t really care what his kryptonite was. I doubted he even knew what he’d answer with. JP and I may not have been friends, but I knew him well enough to tell when he was talking out of his ass.
Which was most of the time.
But even though he was full of shit and I’d rather fuck him in the bushes than listen to him lie about kryptonite, I wasn’t going to let him win. I was too competitive to throw a race, especially when I was pretty sure I could talk him into meeting me at those trees anyway.
You know, since I would be the winner and all.
And then we started running and I realized I had a lot going against me.
Like how he was the one who did the whole “Get ready, get set, go” thing so he had a split-second head start on me.
And how he had to be at least six feet tall and I was five-four on a good day.
And how he went to the gym and my so-called “training” for this race had mainly consisted of riding my former professor’s dick.
“Took you long enough,” JP said when I met him in the trees at the far end of the park a while later.
“Not long enough for you to clean up, apparently,” I said, lifting an eyebrow.
He ran a hand across his cheeks, doing nothing to brush off the coloured powder his friends had showered him with after they caught up at the finish line. His hair was still speckled with pink and orange and purple, and blue and yellow streaks ran down his arms. Splotches of orange and green stained the back of his T-shirt and there was a smear of teal that started at the edge of one nostril and followed his smile line down to his jaw.
“The price I pay for finishing first,” he said.
“You get to look like you got bukkaked by a bunch of ancient, dehydrated clowns?”
“It’s tradition. For us, at least.” He grinned, the teal line curving along with his smile. “Ever since the first year. First person to cross the finish line gets pelted. Although most years, it’s more of a shoving match to get someone across the finish line. I think I might be the second person who did it on purpose.”
“Hmm. Seems like a heavy price to pay just to get me in some bushes.”
“Trust me, babe.” He jerked his head to get me to follow him. “I’m gonna make sure it was well worth it.”
I pretended that didn’t make a warm sensation coil in my stomach. “You could’ve waited an hour for me to get home so we could meet up in your car instead of a forest.
He stepped off the path and moved a branch to the side so it wouldn’t smack me as we ventured deeper into the trees. “No, I couldn’t.”
“My ass is good, but it’s not that good.”
“No, I mean I’ve been doing this race for years and not once have I gone home with the contents of my stomach still in place. If I go home at all.”
“You take the after party seriously, eh?”
“Of course.” A branch snapped beneath his foot. “It’s the whole point. And tomorrow night’s not an option because you’ve got that benefit and I’ve got a dinner meeting with a client in Sherbrooke. Besides, a change of scenery might be nice.”
He pushed a few branches out of the way, then took my hand and pulled me into a clearing sheltered by a tangle of brush on one side and a few closely spaced trees on the other. We were far enough off the path that I could barely see the lights lining it illuminating the deserted section of the park. In the distance, the music at the after party thumped loud enough to drown out the buzz of the people dancing and celebrating.
“There,” JP said. “It’s not as good as a bed or anything, but it’ll do.”
“What makes a bed so good?”
He raised his eyebrows high enough that they almost touched the colour-stained sweatband on his forehead. “You don’t like fucking in a bed?”
I shrugged. “I mean, they’re nice, but not necessary. You proved that when you showed me I had plenty of room to sit on your face in the back of your car.”
“Yeah, but I can’t tie you to the backseat of a car,” he said.
“You think I’d let you tie me to a bed?”
He tilted his head in concession. “You would probably try to scratch my eyes out.”
“Damn straight.”
“Okay, well, not having a bed means I can’t hold you afterwards.”
I rolled my eyes again. “The romantic shit doesn’t work on me, JP. It does the opposite, actually.”
“I don’t mean romantically, smartass,” he shot back.
“Oh, of course. You want to platonically hold me after we fuck. That makes total sense.”
“It does.”
I scoffed. “Seriously? Why would you want that?”
JP returned my incredulous scoff with an expression of disbelief. “Are you legitimately asking, after I’ve admitted multiple times how goddamn hot you are, after you’ve seen how hard you get me again and again, after I subjected myself to a so-called ancient clown bukkake to get you alone so I could fuck you for what is far past the world record for how many times I’ve fucked the same person, why I would want to have your naked body pressed against me?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but JP wasn’t done.
“You seriously don’t think that after I’ve buried my cock as deep inside your pussy or your throat as you’ll let me, after I’ve felt you clench around me when I’ve made you come so hard you can’t even think anymore, that I might want to sit there and enjoy watching you come back to your senses and realize you just screamed my name for me?”
His voice was like silk, light and smooth at first, like it was blowing in the breeze and rustling like the leaves in the trees above us. But each word brought more weight to it until it was draping over itself and pooling around us, dulling and dimming the world until all that was left was us in that clearing, his question hanging unanswered on the humid air like seconds hanging on a clock.
“I’ve never screamed your name,” I finally said.
He took a slow step towards me. “Are you gonna stop me from doing my best to change that?”
I tried to control the shake in my voice so he didn’t realize how his words had fucking gotten to me. “Can you at least take the sweatband off? You look like a fucking dork.”
I half-expected him to argue, but he reached up, tugged the sweatband off, and shoved it in his pocket. “Better?”
“Well, you still look like a dork,” I said, reaching up to rub the teal line off his face, though there wasn’t much I could do for the band of beige-white skin now cutting through the coloured powder. “But it’s tolerable.”
“I can work with tolerable,” he said.
“You’ll have to be quick. I have maybe fifteen minutes before Anne-Marie realizes she’s been squealing about Bruno to an empty chair and wonders where I went.”
“Squealing about Bruno?” He took another step.
“Oh, apparently Niko—” My voice betrayed me on the k , crackling just enough that JP’s smirk widened. “Niko carried Bruno across the finish line piggy-back style, took him straight to the beer gardens, and knocked half a table of drinks over while putting Bruno down so they could start making out.” I bit my lip as JP moved another step closer. “I only managed to sneak away when security told them they had to tone it down and Anne-Marie went over to… help. I think.”
“Well, good for them. Anne-Marie’s been saying they’ve been dancing around each other for weeks now and the only thing more unbearable than Bruno’s obsession with Niko is how obsessed Niko is with Bruno.” He took one more step towards me. “Are you done with the story?”
“I… yes.”
“Good. I wanna fuck you now.”
And after everything he’d said, that was what sent goosebumps skating across my skin. That was what made the core of my body scream at me to shut up and get on with things. That simple statement, those simple words—“I wanna fuck you now”—was what it took to move me forward into his arms.
His lips tasted like salt in the most addictive way and his tongue like sweetness and peppermint, like he’d crunched one quickly before I got there. I let out an unintentional sigh and JP pulled me closer so I could feel what I’d already seen, which was the hard bulge tenting the fabric of his shorts. It pressed against my lower belly, thick and enticing, and I reached down to cup my hand around it.
“Fuck.” He nudged his fingers through the cut-up fringe at the bottom of my shirt and slipped them beneath the stretchy fabric of my sports bra. A moment later, I stifled a cry as his fingers pinched the hard little nub, and he choked on another soft moan as I tightened my grip and stroked his cock through the fabric of his shorts. “I’ve been thinking about this since you walked up to my family like you had no idea how goddamn good your tits look in a sports bra.”
“Oh, I know.” I sighed as he cupped my breast and squeezed. “The only downside is they don’t bounce as nicely when I run.”
He slipped his hand out of my bra and trailed it down my body. Both hands moved behind me and he palmed my ass, squeezing and groaning as he pulled my body into his. “This isn’t fucking fair. I won our race fair and square.”
I frowned. “And here I am.”
His lips moved to my jaw, then my neck. “Yeah, but you’re getting both prizes.”
“Are you saying your kryptonite is my ass?”
He squeezed my ass again, then he whimpered.
He fucking whimpered .
And yeah, I knew it was fake. I knew he was joking, that he was pretending my kryptonite ass was draining his energy. I knew JP, of all people, would never let me get him into a position where he’d legitimately make a noise like that.
But my pussy did not know those things. And it apparently really liked it when men fucking whimpered for me. So much so that I was almost worried I’d soak through my running shorts before JP pulled them down.
“It’s weakening me already, babe,” he said, still faking a feeble voice like he wasn’t at all aware of the arousal that had just scorched its way through my body.
“Oh no,” I said, swallowing hard. “Isn’t long term exposure super dangerous? I should go back to my friends so you stay nice and safe.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “We can reverse the effects if you, uh… let me fuck it.”
His face was still buried in my neck, so he couldn’t see the way I raised my eyebrows, but I assumed he felt the way I stiffened. “Did you just ask me for—”
“No,” he said quickly, kissing my neck. “I’m not asking you to take it in the ass.”
Damn. That was too bad. Not that I was going to tell JP, but I would’ve said yes. Like, not right that second, but maybe the next time I was in town for an event.
Like the Diamond Gala, which was the weekend after next, and which marked the end of my commitment to my dad for attending events as a Perfect Daughter Barbie. And it might also mark my last time in Montreal overall.
Because my dad would be paying my tuition and rent not too long after that. And yeah, he was still my dad and yeah, I felt like a garbage person for thinking I would put up with him until he was done paying for my education and then never have to see him again.
But I was starting to think the hurt of not having him in my life would be less than the hurt of having him there.
That was a thought for another time, though. Preferably a time when JP wasn’t pressing kisses to my collarbone and grinding his dick on me, since the whole point of that thought train was that my potential last visit to Montreal would be a great time to lose my anal virginity.
“The kryptonite effects are just, uh, getting to me,” JP continued, moving his hands to my hips. “I meant that you gotta let me fuck you”—he turned me in place until he could push his throbbing cock against my ass—“like this.”
“Like this?” I shifted my hips from side to side and JP made a noise that wasn’t quite as earth-shattering as the whimper, but was definitely full of genuine desperation.
“Yeah, babe,” he said in my ear.
“And how is it that fucking your kryptonite is going to help?”
“Because of… you know.” He thrust himself forward. “Magical dick reasons.”
I snorted. “Magical dick reasons?”
“Mm-hmm. Trust me. I’m not making any of this up.”
“Sure you’re not.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and let go of my hips, hands wandering to the waistband of my shorts and pulling them down. “You wet for me, babe?”
“Find out for yourself,” I replied.
He didn’t say anything, but I could almost hear him smirking behind me. A moment later, he hooked the waistband of my thong and tugged it down to join my shorts under the curve of my ass. His fingertip dragged down my crack, tracing a path down lower and lower until his fingers dipped between my legs from behind.
“You're not wet,” he said, his voice rumbling and low and pleased. “You’re fucking soaked for me, aren’t you, Nellie?”
I wanted to deny it, mostly because I wanted to deny that I ever did anything for JP Marchand.
But I couldn’t. I absolutely couldn’t deny my panties were soaked for JP when we both knew damn well I was aching for him.
That didn’t mean I had to say it, though.
Instead, I pushed back against him, making his fingers slide along my slit. “Are you gonna do something about it?”
That was how I ended up with my hands pressed to the trunk of a reasonably sturdy tree, my feet shoulder-width apart and my shorts tight around my thighs, bent forward as JP slipped his cock inside me from behind. Both of us sighed as he entered me, a contented sound that wrapped our little clearing in relief and pleasure underscored by the thumping bass of music pounding at least a million miles away.
“How the fuck do you always feel so goddamn good, Nellie?” he groaned as he started moving inside me.
“I’ve got a grade A pussy,” I replied.
He laughed. And like every time I made him laugh while he was inside me, his cock jostled the slightest bit and I had to bite back a moan because something about that felt so good.
So goddamn good.
“You’ve got grade A everything,” he said, sliding his hand around me. “Grade A pussy”—he brought his hand up, grabbing my breast over top of my shirt and squeezing—“Grade A tits.” He kneaded my breast for a moment before letting go, tracing the lines of my body until his hand was on my ass. “And this. This grade A fucking ass that just—”
And then he pressed his thumb against my hole.
I slammed a hand to my mouth to muffle the noise I made. It was like a mix between a yelp and a moan, the yelp not from pain but from surprise and the moan from… well, he was…
He was playing with my ass.
Which made me wonder how sincere he was when he said he wasn’t asking to fuck it. I mean, it wasn’t the first time he’d played with my ass. Though, I was pretty sure it was the first time he’d done it while we were fucking like that.
Luckily, I didn’t have to wonder long.
“I’d love to have this around my dick,” he murmured, pressing his thumb inside me. “You’re clamping down so tight right now and it’s only the tip of my thumb. If this was my cock—”
He started moving faster and my elbow buckled, leaving me no choice but to rest my forearm against the tree.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasped. “So hot, babe, and so—”
“Oh, God,” I hissed as he pushed his thumb in further.
“Close,” he said. “But it’s actually pronounced ‘JP.’”
“If you have enough brain power to make that joke, you’re not fucking me hard enough,” I gasped.
“That’s fair,” he said, then proceeded to fuck me hard.
God, I hoped no one was around. They would have definitely heard the way JP’s hips were slapping against my ass and the high-pitched noises escaping my throat each time he drove his cock inside me. There was no fucking way they didn’t hear his gasps as he brought us both closer and closer to the edge, though I doubted anyone would have been able to hear the things he was whispering to me.
“You gonna come on it for me, babe?” he asked.
He pushed his thumb in deeper and I squeezed my eyes closed, heat building up in my core as I cried out.
“Answer me, babe,” he insisted.
“Please,” I whispered. “Fuck, please —”
"Say it. Say you're fucking coming for me."
“I am,” I gasped. “I— fuck , I’m… gonna c-come…"
"For who?" he demanded.
"For you," I whimpered. "I'm c-coming for you."
And then his hand was over my mouth, muffing the sound of me losing myself around his cock and in his arms. He buried his face against my neck, his moans rumbling against my skin. I was still mid-orgasm when I felt him come inside me, a pinprick of guilt cutting through the bliss because I knew he shouldn't be fucking me bare. I shouldn’t be letting him do that.
But God, was it addictive.
My ears were ringing as we came down. JP took his thumb from my ass and pulled his cock out carefully, pulling my panties up quickly so they’d catch anything that leaked out before it hit my shorts.
“Thanks babe,” he said as he tucked his cock back into his shorts. “Glad I won that race. I’ve never been so happy to fuck a loser before.”
He laughed obnoxiously after I smacked his arm and I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, bastard. I’m going back to the party now. You wait here for a bit.”
“What?” he asked. “Why do I have to wait?”
“So we don’t suspiciously get back to the party at the same time.”
“Yeah, but why do I have to be the one to wait?”
I made an aggravated noise. “Because I’m the one who has to deal with Anne-Marie and because I said so.”
He looked like he was about to argue with me again, but his eyes flicked down my body and back up. Once they met mine again, he grinned and shrugged.
“Alright. Go for it.”
And him giving in so easily should’ve been my clue that something was wrong. But it took until I found Anne-Marie at the party and she put an arm out to hold me in front of her, a suspicious look on her face, for me to realize JP had left a powdery blue and orange hand print directly over my right breast and that I was now stuck trying to convince her I’d been elbowed in the tit and instinctively grabbed it as a reflex at the beginning of the race.