Dissent (33 page)

“Internally?”
she asked, biting into her lower lip.

“Mmmhmm,”
I agreed, and her hand dropped from my cock, leaving it throbbing
with need. “The left room,” I told her, reaching for my
shirt and pulling it off and moving toward my zipper.

When
I walked in, Darcy was already perched on my old bed, laying across
it the short way, her legs straight up in the air. I dropped down to
my knees in front of her and she crossed her legs at the ankle,
pointing her toes toward the ceiling.

My
hands went between her thighs, pulling her folds apart. “You
know how many nights I laid here thinking about sticking my cock in a
pussy?” I asked, leaning forward and running my tongue up the
slick cleft. “I had no fucking idea how tight they were,”
I said, turning my finger and slipping it inside her as my tongue
worked slow, deliberate circles around her clit. “Or how good
they fucking tasted,” I said before taking her clit between my
lips and sucking slightly, making her body jerk, her arms slam down
on the mattress at her sides, kicking up months of dust.

“Okay,”
she said, sounding at once both playful and aroused, “enough
talk. I need you inside of me.”

I
smiled, standing up, and pushing my pants to the floor. I pulled out
my cock, stroking it slightly, looking at the backs of her thighs,
her delicate cunt, her plump ass. And all I could think was... mine.
She was mine.

I
was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

“I
don't care where you put it,” she said, looking up at me with
heavy eyes. “Why don't you surprise me?”

Jesus
Christ. Did I mention I was lucky?

I
moved toward her, running my hands up the backs of her thighs. I
brought my cock between her folds, stroking it over her clit until
she was writhing against the bed, then sliding it lower, pushing it
against the entrance to her pussy. Pausing for a second, then slowly
sliding deep inside her, feeling her tight walls close around me and
shooting desire down to through my feet.

Her
legs moved to one of my shoulders as she looked up at me, watching me
as I slid deep. I no longer needed to fuck her as hard as I hated
myself. I could take it slowly. I could enjoy each delicious second
of being inside her.

“Fuck,”
she groaned, sucking in a deep breath.

Okay,
I didn't
need
to fuck her hard. But, damn, sometimes I just
really liked to.

I
pulled out of her, then before she could whimper, slammed back
inside. Hard, past, uncontrollable, machine gun fucking.
Bangbangbangbangbang. I pulled her legs off my shoulder, grabbing the
knees and pressing them back toward her shoulders, watching as she
obediently wrapped her arms around them, giving me more freedom as I
slammed into her over and over, making her moans filter through the
entire house, echoing back at me.

“Oh,
oh, oh my... fuck,” she cried out, tightening around me.
“Isaiah... fuck.”

She
came hard, her pussy shivering around my cock fast and frantic as her
legs shook with the sensation. I slammed forward, burying against the
back wall of her pussy and coming with an intensity that had my
fucking legs giving out, my knees slamming against the edge of the
bed, my arms going out to brace myself.

“Well,”
I said a while later, slipping out of her, slapping her ass as I
stood up and reached for my pants. She just laid there looking at me,
pussy still wet from both of our pleasure, legs spread wide and
unashamed. “That was a good therapy session.”

“Oh,”
she said, smiling as she pushed herself off the bed, “that
wasn't the therapy session. That was just me fulfilling a little
perverted fantasy of mine. Getting fucked on a bed where you used to
jerk off alone at night... yum...”

I
shook my head, following her out toward the main area of the house,
watching as she slipped back into her clothes as I pulled my shirt
back on. “Then what was supposed to be therapeutic about this?”
I asked.

She
smiled, going outside. I followed her, my head cocked to the side as
she reached into the sack she had hauled onto her back from the trunk
when we arrived. “This,” she said, holding out two
sledgehammers, “is the therapy. We're tearing it the fuck
down.”

I
took the sledgehammer, grinning. “God, I fucking love you.”

__

Read
Fiona's story in

“
For
A Good Time, Call...”

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by Jessica Gadziala

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