Chapter 16 #2
She drives me insane before she even reaches for my zipper and peels it down, so agonizingly slowly that I can hear it opening tooth by metal tooth.
My hand tangles in her hair, messing it up.
I want Fawnie to be an aching, destroyed, beautiful mess.
I want her makeup running down her face from the tears at gagging on my cock.
I want saliva leaking down her chin and her jaw aching.
I want to fuck her mouth nice and slow, then hard and hot, before I fuck her tight pussy.
I want every single one of her holes, one after another, all of them clamped around me as she cries and begs and takes me out of this godforsaken body.
I should hate myself for this. I’m good at doing it. Hating on me. Tonight though, when I wish I could summon even just a small amount? It’s not there. I can’t concentrate enough to get the buzz of it flowing beneath my skin. It’s a different kind of buzz flooding my veins.
Her fingers get the button of my jeans open, and then she reaches in with her small hand, into my boxer briefs.
She pulls my cock through the slit in them and runs her hand down my length.
She sighs as loudly as I do, like she’s the one aching for the relief of taking me into her mouth. Maybe she is.
Maybe pleasing me is as important to her as being pleasured. No, there’s no maybe. This is Fawnie. The sweetest, kindest, most selfless woman on the planet. I know she wants to make me feel good.
She already does, with my cock trapped in the tight fist she makes around the base of it. I already soaked a spot into my boxers as I leaked all through on the journey here, but there’s no limit to how wet I am for her. Beads of precum dribble from my tip, rolling down my length towards her hand.
My cock throbs in her tight grip, pulsing, the tip turning an angry red.
She studies me, head bent over my cock like she’s uttering a filthy prayer of lust. The irreverent thought of her worshipping over my sinful flesh makes me even harder. Chances are, there’s a hell of a lot more wrong with me than just a few scars.
“You have a beautiful penis,” she says. She gasps, as though she didn’t mean to say that out loud, then she giggles nervously. “Penis sounds weird. What do you want me to call it?”
“Cock? Dick? Prick? A poker?”
She laughs. “A poker?”
“I have a thousand more. Tool, beating stick, lead pipe—”
“Cock. I like that.”
Her cheeks flush prettily, like she didn’t send me the world’s naughtiest video. It’s adorable that she’s shy in person, when she was so filthy recording herself.
I didn’t think it was possible to laugh while she’s holding my dick, but I surprise both of us, a deep, raspy rumble escaping me.
She runs her hand from the base of me to the tip, jacking me so innocently and experimentally that my eyes nearly cross and my balls prickle.
She gives me zero warning before she leans in and licks it.
She starts with the tip, circling her tongue around it from every angle, lapping up the salty moisture and humming at the taste.
I get the benefit of all that vibration.
It rocks through me, bursting at the base of my spine, radiating out into my other muscles.
She wraps her hand around me and glides it down, curling my toes in my boots. She doesn’t stop at the base of me. She keeps going, cupping my balls over my boxers. I can’t help it. My hips flex, pushing my cock into her sweet mouth.
I want to apologize immediately, but she moans around me, clearly not hating the intrusion.
My fingers tangle tighter in her hair as she draws back and then forward, testing to see how much of me she can take before pulling back and using her tongue all around me.
She’s everywhere, licking my shaft like it’s her favorite candy, exploring the tip of me, fitting the point of her tongue into my slit.
I can’t stop my hips from bucking into her mouth and every single time she leans into it, taking me a little bit harder, further, more.
My hand flattens on the back of her head, but I don’t guide her or drive her onto my dick.
I let her do everything. Her cheeks hollow out and drool gathers at the edges of her lips as she does her best to work my shaft.
I don’t have the prettiest cock. It’s long and thick, blunt at the end.
No curve. Probably too many veins. Just… there. As is.
She sucks on it like it’s her sole purpose in life to bring me to my knees right alongside of her. Like it’s the best cock in the world, a dick masterpiece.
She surges forward and drags herself back, using her whole tongue along the underside of my cock, then takes me all the way to the back of her throat again. She hollows out her cheeks as she swallows around me, taking all of me, her cheeks growing red, moisture leaking down them with the effort.
That doesn’t stop her. She keeps up a wicked pace, swallowing around the tip of my cock at the back of her throat, sucking me, rolling her tongue over my length, playing with my balls, mashing them a little too hard and sometimes giving me a scrape of her teeth, but it’s glorious.
It’s good.
Dangerously good.
Enough to drive me insane and cause me to forget myself.
Enough to make me want to utter words that are best left unsaid. Forever. Terms of endearment. Nonsense about feelings. Stuff that I won’t live down and is a bad idea all around.
Kind of like even being here in the first place, but there’s no stopping it. I don’t want to. I won’t regret it. Might as well give myself some more of that brutal honesty.
Fawnie pops her mouth off my cock, nearly scrambling my brain as her lips close over my sack and she sucks my balls into her mouth. Both of them. She rolls her tongue around them, then carefully grabs my slicked up shaft and starts pumping it with her hands.
It’s official. This is how I die.
I thought it was coming a good while ago and for some time, I even wondered why I survived, but this is why.
Alright, not just the pleasure. This.
The connection. I’ve never felt so stripped down, so raw, so like I’m going to tear out of my skin with desire, but I’ve also never felt like my heart is going to tear out of my chest and like it has a safe place to land.
Like Fawnie would pick it up, dust it off, breathe life back into it, and tuck it right back where it belongs so it could function even better than before.
She wouldn’t be afraid of the mess, or the challenge, or the way my mind works.
I could tell her some seriously dark shit, and I know she wouldn’t dismiss me. She’d stand with me through all of it.
She’d be my lover, my friend, and my family.
She jacks my cock brutally, sticking her thumb right into my slit a few times.
I’m leaking a ridiculous amount. My balls are tingling.
My stomach cramps. I can’t catch my breath.
And that’s before she puts her perfect mouth back over my cock and takes me all the way to the back of her throat.
She swallows convulsively around my dick and then her gorgeous fingers cup my balls and squeeze.
I’m finished.
If I’d had any inkling this was coming, I would have jacked off in the shower so I could last more than one mortifying moment.
“Fawnie!” I try to jerk her face off my cock so she can get out of the way, but she refuses to go.
She works me even harder. I can’t stop the surge of pleasure that overtakes me. It rocks my whole body. I come and come in hot jets. It’s horrible, because I’ve somehow planted my hand on Fawnie’s forehead, and I don’t know if I’m pushing her away or trying to bring her closer.
She swallows every last drop of my come.
I just about collapse on the spot from seeing her do it.
I’m able to open my eyes for the last part, and when I find her huge blue irises locked on my face, my legs almost give out.
Was she watching me the whole time? I don’t even want to know what kind of embarrassingly stupid face I made.
Or what face I’m making as Fawnie pulls off my cock. It’s shining with her saliva. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip.
I swear that I almost shoot my load a second time watching her rise to her feet. She carefully tucks my cock back into my pants and zips me back up. She takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom.
I stop dead in the entrance, when I notice the feline loafed at the foot of the bed.
“Bubby!” Fawnie races over and scoops her cat up.
The tabby has a grouchy look about being disturbed, but she doesn’t hiss or scratch.
Fawnie uses one of her little paws to wave at me.
It’s adorable. So is the kiss she brushes over Bubby’s head.
“She hid last time you were here. I’m going to take her to her bed in the living room and get her some treats.
I feel like I’d scandalize her with what I’m about to do for you. ”
That sounds rather ominous. Promisingly ominous.
All I can do is wait in the room with a dry mouth and a hammering heart. Fawnie’s not gone for long, and when she returns, she has one of the oak chairs from the kitchen. She sets it down at the foot of the bed and closes the door.
My heart spikes as hard as my cock. It’s fully hard again and very interested in whatever it is she has planned for me.
“Sit down,” she urges, patting the chair. “I thought that you might like another show.”
My mouth is bone dry. I’m sure my body is a hot, angry mess, but I can’t feel a thing other than the desire that has a straight up chokehold on me. I sit down in the chair and lean forward, setting my elbows on my knees.
Fawnie crawls onto the bed. She shifts to the wooden headboard and rests her back against it. She keeps her legs closed. This is very much like the video, and not at all the same. “Would you like to tell me what to do?”
I’m sure my face is scarlet. “How… do you mean?”
“I’d really like it if you gave me some filthy commands and some sweet words of praise.
Or funny ones. I’d be fine with that too.
Would you like to do that?” She runs her hand from her ankle up to her knee.
It should not be so hot, watching her do something so simple.
She doesn’t even have a coy smile. She’s not teasing or blatantly sexy like she was on the video.
It’s so like my mind to totally blank out. “Uh… that- that depends.”
“What does it depend on?”
I have literally not one fucking clue.
“Should I touch myself like this?” She glides her hand up her thigh. She pushes the hem of her skirt up, revealing the creamy swell of her thigh.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck this. I’ve already watched one show tonight. I’m as hard as if I’ve deprived myself for a month. My cock is leaking all over my jeans and I’m going to tear out of my body. I’m feeling far too much of everything and I have no idea what I’ll do with it if I just sit here.
Fawnie’s hand pauses on her inner thigh.
She looks right at me, those blue eyes so dark and always seeing far too much.
It’s not what we’re doing or what we just did, or what happened a few days ago between us.
It’s the way she looked at me at the symphony, like I’m something special.
I was worth all the trouble. It’s what she did in that bathroom, helping me, rubbing my back, standing in line for a million years to get me water, staring at me with stars in her eyes just like the ones in her hair and on her blouse.
She’s broken her word, stalked me, given me no more than a single inch to breathe ever since she found out I was here.
She wanted to take care of me when I was soaked and freezing cold.
I know that there will never be anyone like Fawnie. No one has made me feel the way she makes me feel. Already.
I know that she’d give me her time, her loyalty, her future, if I so much as asked for it.
Should I leave? Get up now and get away from her and here and all those hard, wonderful truths that could destroy me? How can I just sit here and let it happen, when I know how much it would hurt to lose her?
Not hurt. It would utterly destroy me.
“Shadow?”
I slam back into my body and find Fawnie looking at me. Not with sexy, sparkling, desire, but with real concern.
God, I can’t go five fucking seconds without wrecking something.
“Hey.” She flips around and crawls to the end of the bed until she scoots around and sits on the edge. She leans forward and sets her hand on my knee. “Finn? Are you okay? Is this too much?”
Yes. You consume me. You’re going to wreck me. I’d let you do it happily.
It’s the heaviness of that hope that I can’t properly deal with. This doesn’t just feel unlikely. I know that it’s nearly impossible.
“Come here.” Fawnie guides me out of the chair. I stand up, helping her, going to her and stepping into her arms.
I might stand rigid, but I’m not running either.
I let her drape herself around me, hugging me tightly.
I let her move us to the bed and then I let her plop down and pull me against her.
I don’t just sit. I curl up on the bed my head in her lap and let her stroke my hair.
I close my eyes and let her do the exact thing I don’t want.
Entangle me with her.
“When was the last time you had a good sleep?” Her fingers don’t stop. It’s delicious.
It makes me want to curl up inside of her, to get under the covers of this bed with her and never get back out. It makes me want to unravel that invitation that’s in that question and stay the night with her, cuddled up beside her, holding her and being held.
That’s dangerous.
That’s so far beyond just sex.
Even sex is so far beyond sex with Fawnie.
She moves before I can answer, sliding out from underneath of me.
I try to lift my head, but as soon as I do, she glides a pillow underneath my cheek.
It’s soft. Plush. It feels nice. I’m fully clothed, curled into a fetal position on her bed when she was trying to do something sexy for me, and I’m so exhausted. I’m so tired.
The bed dips, but barely, as Fawnie curls up behind me and rests her hand on my hip.
“You can sleep here. Stay as long as you want.”
I hear everything she doesn’t say. I’ll protect you. I’ll stay with you. You’re not alone. You’re not worthless. You’re not a burden, and you’re not bringing trouble into my life. I want you here. I want you. Period.
I need to open my eyes, get up, and leave. Not hurt Fawnie, but go home. Maintain a proper, safe amount of distance. Do one thing that makes sense. If I’m there, at least I’m not here, not falling asleep. Not falling at all.
I don’t open my eyes. I don’t get up.
I don’t go anywhere.