Author: Not Late Kate
Title: Living in Devin's World
Part: 3 of 7
Summary: Devin Fawkes leads a boring teenage life in the suburbs until things get out of hand with her much older neighbor.
Keywords: Mf, nc, reluc, drugs, blackmail
Chapter 3: Devin's Awkward Brushes...
"Let's pick it up for one more lap." That bouncy ponytailed runner's breathy encouragement had that eternal Piper Positivity.
Devin was dragging ass, they both knew it, but Piper would never call her on it, she was just too nice. She's been slow all morning. She hadn't been up to meet Piper for their 9 AM run, so Piper jogged the 4 miles to her place and when she got their Devin wasn't even up yet. It was already 10:30 by the time Piper got to her place and for some reason Devin insisted on taking a shower before she went for her run.
After all that Piper was still the one throttling her pace so they could jog together. Piper jogged with her head held high, arms high and close, hands loose, chest up and open, ready for air. Devin was just struggling, concealing the soreness between her legs that had been a strange source of hidden pride.
Devin was thankful Piper wasn't bugging her about not training. She had been running plenty, she just was dehydrated from last night's drinking, but that was something she would not be divulging. There was no way in hell she was going to tell Piper about the exhilarating and odd thrill of walking home with a juicy pussy that was leaking a man's cum into her little panties. She didn't want the judgments or especially the lectures - she even banished those from her own conscience.
As they came to the lest bend in the park's trail, Devin, then Piper, broke down into a walk. She'd had enough, so she stretched her long arms over her head, which pulled her old "SuperReader!" baby-doll t-shirt just above her navel.
"So.. *phew* I missed you, what happened to you last night?"
Devin's mind flashed to the drinks, the touches, the orgasm, and Phil's cock. She vaguely remembered staggering home, and being as quiet as she could getting up to her bed. She fell asleep in bed with her tank top and bra in her hands, where she'd been sniffing them because they smelled like him, like them. "Uhm, not much, you know. What do you mean?"
"I mean I texted you a bunch, we were supposed to get together after my cheer meeting."
"Oh yeah, how'd that go," Devin deflected.
"I ended up hanging out with Pennie, Demora, and Alicia afterwards. We kept on working on new cheers after the meeting was over."
"You come up with any new ones?"
"I'll show you one, if you can keep up with me all the way back to the house!" Piper gave a taunting wide open smile, side skip stepping and encouraging Devin to run. In that instant, she seemed like an over eager little puppy dog, bursting with boundless peppy energy. Energy like that is infectious, and Devin decided Piper had plenty to spare, so she fed off it without concern as they jogged home. 'The JV squad really had a big win getting Piper. She was born for it.'
* * *
Devin collapsed down to one knee right next to the hose in her backyard and turned it on, so completely drained she couldn't even look back up to Piper. Devin greedily sucked down water for breaths at a go. While Piper went on as she sometimes does. She took to the hose, too, since she'd run so much.
"Good run, that was good, and girl, you really picked it up in that last stretch, rock on!"
"I wanted... to see... your cheer." Devin was clearly the more winded of the two.
As Devin flopped down, Piper popped up, "Well you earned it!"
Piper, in her running shorts, white sneakers, and midriff runner's tank-top, bounced out to the grass. She spun to face Devin, head down, arms akimbo, feet at shoulder distance apart for a still moment. This was the crazy, mind melting, invasion of the body snatchers transformation that she, Sarah, and Micah (just a friend) sometimes joked about when they watched the cheer squad go. Micah would narrate, "One second, they are totally normal girls, the next second, they are..." Then all in unison, "CHEER-BOTS! (Dun, dun, duuuuuun)"
Mecha-Cheer-Piper raised her head in that perfect clear-eyed cheer smile, hands clapped together palm to palm.
"We'll put you - [b]back[/b] - in your place
On the a - [b]ttack[/b] - in your face
Hurricane, Hurricane,
Our shooters make a three point rain!
Don't step to this, don't even try
The Blue and Gold of Garland High!"
"Very good Piper," her mom's approving voice came from the sliding glass door. Devin looked back to see her mom with a carafe of water with fruit in it.
"Yeah, that's a new one, Piper made up."
"Wow, even more impressive, Devin you-," her face suddenly turned to a scowl, "Turn off the spigot, oh my goodness were you drinking hose water?" To Piper, "My daughter, *ugh*."
"Jeeze mom."
"You know what that water is, it's rain drainage and sewer water. It's filthy and it turns things yellow, and you want to drink it? No, here, I have filtered water with mango and lemon. This, here ladies, this is a palatable drink after a run."
As annoying as her mom was, she was right. Her mango lemon water was good.
"This is wonderful, Mrs. Fawkes, thank you so much."
"You're welcome Piper, and tell your mother, we love your manners and she did a wonderful job raising you."
"Thank you, mom," Devin groan as an afterthought.
Piper giggled at their continued back and forth. For some reason Devin and her mom just didn't seem to get along these days, and she couldn't understand why. Or maybe their sniping was just how they got along. They were funny. Piper looked back at the house behind them where the girls had gotten drunk in the hot tub. That'd been a fun night.
"You know what would be great right now," she whispered conspiratorially out of ear shot of Mrs. Fawkes, hoping Devin would get the hint, "a hot tub."
The way Piper looked at her meaningfully for some reason stirred an angry green monster inside of her. "Uhm what? Where'd that come from?"
"You know, we just got done running, it'd be cool to relax in a hot tub, you know, wouldn't it?"
Devin deflected, "Yeah, a pool would be awesome. Mom, can we get a pool?!"
Debra chuckled and called back to the from the patio table, "We don't have room for one, unless you want to rip out Mr. Kushing's bushes and buy his yard."
Piper tried again, "Nah, a pool's too much, just a hot tub would be nice."
Devin replied, "Doesn't your dad have a hot tub at your house?"
"Yeah, but not really. I mean we have one, but the heater is never on so it's pretty much just a kiddie pool. Kinda no point, you know."
Piper was really starting to irritate her now. That green eyed monster of jealousy was growling inside her. It just played a scene of Piper looking all hot and perfect, and Phil would see the two of them, and then everything would be over. Why would Phil want her when little miss perfect was right there too.
"Why the sudden interest in a pool?"
Her mother's sudden proximity startled Devin, "Eek, mom!"
Piper replied, "Well I was just saying it'd be nice to cool off after a run."
Debra suggested, "Well, I know Mr. Kushing has a hot tub, but I think it would be pretty rude to just go ask to use it... But do you know what we should do? We should go over there and bring him dinner sometime. I haven't seen him out in the neighborhood for a couple weeks. Maybe he might like some company?"
Her green eyed monster calmed, suddenly replaced by the thought of dinner with Phil. She couldn't show too much excitement at the thought, though. Still, it would be really nice to just spend some time with him. She had to play this cool.
"Yeah, ok, whatevs," she said off-handedly. Perhaps a little too dismissively, she realized.
" 'Whatevs'? Come on he used to be your favorite! Every day, can Mr . Kushing come out to play? Pick me up! Pick me up!"
"Okay okay. I'm not a baby anymore."
Sensing her daughter's embarrassment, her mom continued, "This child, God love her, she actually came to me and asked me one time, is 'Mr Kushing really a grown-up'? She'd known him for a week, but all the kids loved him, and some of the mom's did too but that's another story."
"Mom!! Oh my god, ew!"
"Wow, do you think he's handsome?" Piper asked with a giggle at Devin's obvious torment. There were few moments of schadenfreude that Piper enjoyed, but their banter was one that she just happened to like.
Devin offered to Piper, "He's a little tubby."
Debra corrected her daughter, "Well he's not fat, sure he doesn't have a six-pack like he did eight years ago, but he's still a handsome man."
"Oh em eff jee."
"He was quite the looker back then, still mostly is."
"Mom!! You are embarrassing the hell out of me, just stop talking. Go away."
"Devin!" Piper was shocked, this was not the normal banter.
"Young lady, what's gotten into you? You know what? You are going to go take a shower and get dressed, then we are going to go over there and YOU, young lady, are going to ask that very nice man that helped [i]raise[/i] you if we can bring him some dinner. Did you know he's been having a hard time, lately? He has always been there for us and now we are going to be there for him."
Devin had to bury the snicker she felt inside. 'Yeah, he was having a really hard time last night...' She didn't say a word.
Mrs. Fawkes continued her lecture, "The world doesn't revolve around you, and it is time you started acting with some compassion and deference to the needs of others."
'Oh, I'll take care of his needs, mom, and he'll take care of mine,' she thought.
With that, she had to say her goodbye's to Piper and headed to take a shower while Debra gave Piper a ride home.
* * *
Ding dong dang dung.... Dung dong dang ding.
Phil groaned. His head ached, his face was scratchy and he reeked of... oh yeah. Last night's miracle. He was a wreck after he'd gotten her out the door and heading home. They hadn't used protection, they hadn't worked out any stories, she'd gone home drunk. But most of all, he'd had sex with an under-aged girl... that he knew... in his home.
There was another knock on the door. Phil groaned and slung his arm into a robe, pushing up from the couch where he'd passed out after putting a hurting on that bottle of rum after she left. But when he got to the door, he just about shit a brick. Devin and her mom were at his door.
'Oh shit, oh shit, did she tell? Did Debbie find her drunk? Oh no, I am so fucked. Oh God I am going to jail, everyone is going to know what happened... I am going to get pounded in the ass by a bug Black man nicknamed 'Treetrunk'. I'm dead!' He wiped the schmutz out of his eyes and opened the door with a squint.
"Hello, yeah?"
Debbie was taken aback by his appearance. He was clearly either hung over or possibly still drunk, and in a robe at almost noon! "Hel-oh my goodness, Phil." Her face quickly shifted from friendly hello to concern and on to nagger. She turned back to Devin, "Honey, could you give us a moment?"
Devin, who had been waiting in faux frustration with her arms crossed threw them up in the air in faux disgust and faux wandered off, staying within earshot.
"Phil, talk to me. What happened last night?"
'Oh shit, oh shit,' kept running through his mind, and he started tearing up, his lower lip trembling. He felt like the earth was falling out from beneath him. "I- a- a- I got- I was really drunk last night I was out of control, it won't happen again." He could see Devin's look turn sour at his last words. He tried to catch her eye as he repeated, "I'm sorry."
Debra missed that look to her daughter, she was busy spying a mostly empty bottle of rum on the floor by his couch. "Phil, that's okay, I understand, just... just go get cleaned up, I don't want Devin seeing you like this and she has something to ask you."
Ass pounding terror suddenly gave way to intense confusion. He nodded and scurried off to get cleaned off with a quick pits-and-bits shower.
Devin's mom continued her teachable moment lecture, "See, honey, I know you heard all that, Phil is having a really hard time with his break up and we should really help him out now. You are going to ask him to come to dinner at our house tonight, I want to get him out of that house."
Dutifully she did, in that most stilted odd conversation. All the while biting back the hurt of his meaningful "never happen again" words.
"My mom wanted - we want to invite you dinner tonight."
"Okay."
"Okay, come over at seven."
"Okay."
Phil stood confused by the facts, but still let his eyes be drawn to Devin's flowing sundress and her smooth pretty bare shoulders, much more tan than her bare bottom had been. Devin seemed apathetic but inside was confused by churning emotions, jealousy, love, hurt, and Debra was simply beaming with pride as they left the entryway. Ignorance is bliss.
* * *
The same newness that Devin had experienced all last week was now running through Phil's mind when he arrived for dinner. Pleasantries with Debra passed for normal, but in his head he kept hearing a mantra, "I fucked your daughter, I tasted your daughter's pussy juices, I came inside your daughter." It was distracting and nerve wracking. Debra took his out of sorts demeanor as a symptom of his depression. Devin, on the other hand was petulant, hardly even looking at Phil.
Mr. Kushing was present physically, but absent in all other meaningful regards.
Devin shoved his plate in front of him as she was setting them before Debra sat down, Phil tried to give her a helpless questioning look, but she shot him back a tight lipped sneer. 'Yeah, I'm beautiful, but only when you're drunk,' she thought. With every mention of Clarissa, Devin seemed to get a little colder.
About half way through dinner Phil asked, "So, there's an upside to all this craziness."
"Oh?" Debra prompted with prim politeness.
"Well, after our break-up, Clarissa left several canvasses, lots of paints, a stand, basically a bunch of her art materials at my place. She's not coming back for them, cause she's more of a sculptor than a painter."
"Oh, are you going to try out painting? Maybe take some lessons?"
"Me? Oh no, I have no artistic talent, but I know you were always artistic, Devin. It's yours if you want it."
"Oh, really that's so sweet, isn't that sweet honey?"
Devin turned an icy raised brow at her mom. She'd never taken any painting lessons in her life.
"Oh, but we really don't have any room for that here."
"No problem, she can come over whenever she wants to paint in the mini-studio downstairs. Just so long as you don't throw parties or anything crazy like that."
Devin's chilly countenance thawed as the warmth of realization dawned on her. Maybe that whole 'Out of control, it won't happen again' thing wasn't for real. This whole time, she'd been freaking out because he didn't love her, but now here he was trying to set up a way for her to visit!
She looked up to see Phil unclipping a key from his key chain and presenting it to her. "What'dya say, paint whenever you want on the condition of you get your mom's permission and no parties, deal?"
For the first time that night, Devin smiled, and the family's dinner warmed up. She eventually warmed up and started chatting about running, Piper and Sarah, the Cheer squad (including queen Demora: captain of the Varsity squads), and Alicia (captain of JV football cheer squad). Though she wasn't a part of it, she listened well enough to tell Piper's stories as though they were her own.
That night as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't wait to start painting. She smiled, thinking about the genuine warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. And he listened to her tonight at dinner. He really was special because he was the kind of man that made her feel special. She patted her lower tummy and thought, for the first time ever, how nice it would be to have his child. 'This is love.'
Phil smiled to himself. He couldn't help but relish the idea having that eager young high school girl all to himself.
The very next morning, Devin made sure to text Piper and Sarah and tell them all about dinner. Piper was curious, but Sarah was more eager to talk about their own plans. They were planning on meeting up with Jake and his friend Bobby for a double date. They were going to a butterfly park, Piper's idea of course. She'd manage to get that as a concession from Jake for some as yet unrevealed foul-up, and Bobby just wanted to see that "chick with the tig ole bitties!" Sarah didn't mind cause she'd heard that Bobby was packing.
Piper was worried Devin might get offended having not been invited to the park, but Devin didn't seem to mind. She was more interested in bragging about the new art thing she was going to be trying out.
"You sure you're not mad?"
"Piper, I'm fine, look, I'm going to be trying something new, and I have basically my own personal studio, I can go over whenever I want."
Later while sitting outside Piper was chatting with Sarah about all Devin's plans, assuring Sarah that they were totally fine. Sarah barely paid her any mind, until she suddenly turned to Piper, "Wait, back up there, he gave her a key?"
"Apparently, yeah, she's going over there today."
"Ask her if he has booze!"
Piper quirked a brow at Sarah, but slipped her phone out and thumbed out a text.
"She didn't say if he has any, but she says, 'No parties'."
"Oh score, man, what's this guy like?"
"I don't know, Devin said he's a fatty, but her mom said he had a six pack a few years ago and she seemed to dig on him."
"Oh my god you think her mom hooked up with him?"
Piper just stared at Sarah with a bemused look of silent surprise.
"Oh yeah, I bet she did it. That's awesome. Does she have a pic?"
"I dunno, lemme check Facebook... Huh... There he is, he's on her friend's list."
"Well shit, he's kinda cute for an old dude. Go mama Fawkes!"
* * *
It was about time to do some house cleaning. Phil yanked the comforter off his bed and saw it. The red stain, the evidence. The proof that he deflowered a beautiful young girl in that very bed. Just thinking about it, he could almost smell the sweetness of her hair. She was an ideal, a paragon, a vision of perfect loveliness and innocence that he had turned into a rutting, cumming sexual puppet two nights ago.
"Wow. I'm so going to hell."
He was shoving his sheets into the laundry when he heard the chimes of his doorbell. The door opened up to reveal a smiling Devin Fawkes. She was leaning on the door jam with one arm, hip cocked out to the side, wearing oversized sunglasses, a loose orange floral surf top that sat off her shoulders, a faded blue denim skirt and Keds with white socks. "Hello, lover," she announced.
"Shh, watch it girl. Get in here."
"What are you ashamed of me?"
"No, not at all, I just don't want to go to jail."
She grinned as he closed the door behind her, "I guess that makes me your jail bait."
He shook his head, "You're still evil, you know that?"
She nodded with her hands behind her back, "Yeah..." Devin stepped in close with slow teasing playfulness, then through her arms up around his neck and whispered, "but you luuuv me." She rose up on her tip toes and puckered her lips expectantly for a kiss. He grinned at her, the ridiculous picture of a young girl with bangs down to her eyebrows, with her lips pursed and puckered like a fish. He marveled at the way she could just switch between sexy woman and little kid.
"Yeah, I guess I do," then he ducked out of her embrace and picked her up in a fireman's carry. She shrieked in shock and started swatting at his butt. "Alright evil girl, it's time for you to do some painting."
"Put me down! Put me down, where are you taking me?"
"Relax, like I said, you're going to do some painting, and here," he set her down, "Is your studio."
"You were serious about that?"
"Well, yes."
"But I don't even know how-"
"Well, maybe, but you can't just come over here to paint and have nothing to show for it. Your mom might start asking questions that wouldn't be good for us."
Her shoulders slumped. "Fine, but what are you going to be doing?"
He smiled back at her, "Enjoying the view."
She smiled and leaned up to him for a kiss, which this time he dutifully planted softly on her lips. Rather than pull back, though, he let their lips linger for a moment, just a breath away, then, taking her face in both hands, he directed her into a more intimate, sensual kiss.
Devin's knees suddenly went weak. With the way he kissed her and held her, she felt tiny as if her whole body was in the palms of his cupped hands instead of just her cheeks. Butterflies flew around in her stomach as their lips meshed and he tasted her once more. A moment later it was done and her lazy gave opened up to see he had a smug smile on his face, looking down on her flushed cheeks and glazed look. It was funny how even after sex, just that one kiss threw her whole world in a loop. He knew just how to kiss her.
"Get to work, kiddo."
"Errgh! Don't call me that!"
"What, kiddo?"
"Yeah, I'm not a kid you know."
He smiled, "You know I know that, sweetie."
"That's better," she smiled.
"And here's the palette and brushes. Need anything else."
"No, I guess."
She leaned down tentatively picking up the painting palette with her dainty hands. His eyes stole a quick peek trying to see down her shirt, but the top fit snug along her shoulders and just barely gave a peak at her modest cleavage. Still, he could see no sign of a bra supporting her pert breasts, and even without the cleavage, just the bare expanse of skin along her neck and shoulders was plenty of beauty to behold. He really did like that shirt. He'd like it better if he could get it off of her. Even better, if he could yank it down, pinning her arms to her sides and kiss and suck on her sensitive little nipples. 'Jesus, get a hold of yourself man.'
"I really like your top."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." An exchange like that sounded like something out of a middle school flirtation, and Phil burned hot with embarrassment. A look at the palette in her hands prompted him to add, "Ooh, I'd hate to see you ruin that shirt."
"Yeah?" She had that hopeful smile with that simple one word reply. It was the kind of bright eyed smile that brightened up a room.
"You know, let me... Stay right there," he headed out of the room and bounded up the stairs, while she watched in amusement. He was back to being playful Phil again.
After a few moments, he came back down carrying a beige heather long sleeved button down shirt, "Now this might be a little big on you but it should work."
She took the shirt and looked it over, the coarse linen seemed like it might be itchy and she surmised it was a little more than a bit big. "Okay, I can do this. Thanks," she pulled him down and gave him a smack on the cheek, then strolled off to change, throwing him an adoring glance over her shoulder as she went. She had a wicked thought, imagining if she'd just pulled off her top right there in front of him. His eyes would have burst right out of his head. She wished she had done it! Well there wasn't enough room in the bathroom to leave the door open, so she finally satisfied her exhibitionist urge by leaving it unlocked.
She pulled up the surf top, wiggling and squeezing her way out of it. Standing there topless, she regarded the coarse linen shirt with concern. 'This might be a little itchy.' She shrugged and slipped it on. The arms were really long, she cuff them and roll them up a few times and they still hung loosely past her elbows. The whole shirt was actually so long it fit like a mini dress.
'A belt would work with this,' she mused as she pinched the shirt at the small of her back. Shrugging off that idea, she pulled her hair out from under the shirt, tying it into a pony-tail and headed back out. The shirt did have one nice feature, it smelled like him.
"Hey sexy."
"Yeah right, I'm wearing a man-shirt."
"Call it like I see it."
She bounded back over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, "You really think I look sexy right now?"
The hopeful naivete in her voice just begged for a kiss on those fresh unpainted lips, but Phil just planted one on her forehead and said, "Let me get the blinds."
She didn't question him, although a tiny part her, she realized, would have liked nothing more than being seen. He, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was deciding when he picked that moment to lock the front door.
With that, settled, she started painting. She hadn't cared about what it would be, since it didn't matter really. He brought her a coke (just coke), and they chatted a little about colors to cats to de-motivational posters, and random YouTube videos. As she worked he asked her about what kind of music she listened to.
He was only half listening to the litany of emo bands she rattled off, The Starting Line, White Tie Affair, MCR, Rise Against, The Hush Sound, blah blah. His attention was more focused on her long, lightly tanned legs, and the way her skirt was shifting from side to side as she cocked her hips. Her ass and that perfect curvature of skin was hidden from his view by that denim but he could imagine getting under it. And her sweet smelling hair, how annoying that it was hiding the nape of her neck from his view. He googled "emo music" and used the results to seed a Pandora station.
"Oh yes!"
"Good?" He asked.
"I love AAR! Do you have the Move Along album?"
"No, I just threw it on Pandora."
"Oh, that's cool."
"What songs do you like on that one," he asked while clacking away with Google.
"Dance Inside is good."
"You know what my favorite is?" he asked as he turned back to ogle her body again.
"What that?"
"Dirty Little Secret."
She totally missed his joke, "Yeah that's good, but it was overplayed."
He just chuckled.
Half an hour later, passed with some sporadic talk, but Devin actually started to get into her little painting excursion, she'd gotten an idea in her head and was actually tinkering with how to get it to come out, and she'd lost track of him. True to her suspicions, though, the shirt was a little itchy. She wished she'd worn a bra.
Phil watched with intent eyes. He rather liked this feeling of watching her while she worked. It had this voyeuristic thrill, to watch this pretty young girl work, unaware of his eyes roaming her body. He imagined her unaware of his desires, his intentions. But why fantasize about her when she's right there in front of you? With the driving music playing, he walked up behind her undetected. Her long lean neck looked so inviting, but he rather liked seeing her bare shoulders, too.
She tensed when she felt his hands take her shoulders and he leaned in to breath in her sweet scent. She began to turn to him, but he stopped her movement and whispered, "Shh, keep on painting."
Suddenly, the butterflies in Devin's stomach were flitting all about. There was no mistaking the tone in his voice and the heat of his breath by her ear. He whispered with desire. She felt his hands release her shoulders and trail down to her hips.
He really hadn't got a good chance to get a feel for her tight behind, and he was intent on making up for that oversight right now. "Don't stop painting, yes. Keep brushing the canvas," he whispered as he slipped his hand down to her pert little bottom. All that running had served her well, even being so slim, her tush still a little curvature below her narrow waist. He groped and massaged her bottom as he ran his lips down to the nape of her neck in a trail of kisses only to be frustrated by the collar of his own shirt.
Devin was having a hard time dealing with all the stimuli: the excitement of his hand on her ass, the concentration demands of her painting, the weight of the palette in her hands, the slight rasp of his whiskers against her soft skin, the sounds of music pulsing, the smell of oil paints, the pounding of her own heart and his breathy commands. Her brush came to an abrupt standstill when he felt his other hand slip around to her taut little tummy and snake up slowly up her center-line, idly poking through the gaps between buttons on their way up. She forgot to breath when his hand reached up to her neck, while the crook of his elbow cradled her breast.
He kept whispering into her ear even with her stalled painting, "Yes, you're such a good girl, keep painting sweetie." His fingers began working the top button, "Do you know" - it popped open - "just how..." his fingers worked the next button as his lips paused to kiss her lobe until it came free, "beautiful you are?" His fingers slid back down to the next button.
Devin was so overwhelmed from so much different stimulation, and she tried to keep painting. He straightened up from where he'd hunched down to look down the front of her shirt where he was working the next button, and slid his other hand from her bottom around front to the soft dip right above her slit. He pulled her back against him and she remembered to breath with a gasp when she felt his cock pressing into the small of her back through his pants.
His fingers were continued their bold exploration, opening button after button and touching her in those most intimate places. She tried to speak, but he just quieted her with hot lips on her neck.
She looked down to see her shirt fully opened and though her breasts remained covered, it was clear that she hadn't worn a bra from the long stretch of smooth skin from her neck to her navel. His right hand reached all the way around to cup her left breast from beneath the shirt and hold her in a close embrace. "Tell me about your painting, sweetie."
"Oh, okay, uhm, it's about-". She giggled when he flicked her tightening nipple, "It's hard to concentrate when-"
"Shh, don't think about me, just tell me about the painting."
"It is a man a- and a woman who..." his fingers played her more sending buzzing flits of pleasure straight up to her brain making it harder and harder to think. "they're in a close embrace."
While one hand kept tormenting her nipple with mind muddying playfulness, his other hand slid under the shirt from behind stroking the bare flesh of her back. The exploring hand pulled half of the shirt open in the process, exposing one small upturned breast to his overhead view.
The more his hands explored her, the more helpless and turned on she felt. It seemed more and more a game they she'd realized they were playing. She'd obey him and try to talk about the painting and he'd try to make her too horny to make a coherent sentence. It was even worse when he'd whisper to her while she spoke.
"They're in love and-"
"You're nipples are begging to be sucked..." She moaned in agreement, but as she stopped he backed off her spiking nipple.
His hand found her skirt's bottom and pulled it up in front while his other hand was teasing her tummy just enough so that it tingled, but didn't tickle enough to get her laughing.
"What are they doing in the painting, Devin.."
"I uhm, they're..." his two fingers started gently massaging her inflamed lips, sending more waves of gushy pleasure into her core. Those rolling waves of pleasure begged her body to rock and move with his fingers' rhythm.
"Are they going to," both fingers found her hard little clit and pressed in as he intoned, "fuck?"
"Yes," she gasped and moaned in blossoming desire. If this was a game, then he was definitely playing her, and she didn't mind losing.
But he kept backing off, torturing her and teasing her body, and whispering in her ear. He pushed her panties aside and pressed her folds again and she gushed juices all over his fingers, soggy remnants of her inhibitions leaking away.
"painting... together... Hands..."
She could barely remember to breath much less think as his desire drenched fingers slicked her nipple with a squeeze and then slowly brought the scent to her own nostrils. She instinctually avoided them at first, but his slow insistence brought them to her nose, where she smelled the musk of her own desires up close for the first time.
Then in a violation she hadn't imagined enjoying, he painted her own lips in those same juices. She couldn't fathom how much of a tantalizing spectacle she was for him at that moment; His own shirt draping half off her, skirt hiked up, panting in lust, and lips glossy with her own pussy juices.
His hand left her lip, and trailed back down to her pulsing cunt where they swiftly pressed passed her lips and rubbed her clit. She gasped in pleasure as the palette fell from her hands with a clatter, spattering her white Keds and ankles in browns, yellows, reds, and greens. Her long skinny legs did not stay there long, though, as his denim clad legs nudged and moved her until they staggered together. He led her, hands continuing their welcomed violations all the way to the side of a couch.
Perhaps if she'd asked herself if she wanted to be fucked before she'd made that short walk across the yard to come to his house she'd have had second thoughts. Perhaps she would have planted her foot down demanded more attentions to be lavished upon her. Perhaps she could have even said no when he pulled the shirt off her shoulders instead of just crossing in front of her bared breasts and looking back to him with frightened and dazed eyes. But now in the swirling heat of his desire and insistence, her young mind could offer no resistance as her body bumped against the side of the couch. Her hands could only do her the service of catching herself on the cushion and back of the couch as he bent her over with slow but strong hand.
He didn't even bother pulling her panties all the way down, nor did he take off his jeans, he just hurriedly whipped out his cock and pressed it against her moist recently deflowered slit.
She knew it, now more clarified and solidified, she was about to get fucked again, and though sober, there was still a slightly disquieting out of body sense of being controlled, being led by his desires and not her own. He pressed his hardened manhood into her barely able to penetrate, and thrust again and again getting wetter and wetter from her juices.
The strange pulling abrasiveness of a dry cock pushed three short high pitched squeals that were as indiscernible as pain or pleasure as she felt them to be.
And then he was inside her.
Her eyes shot wide open and her jaw hung open and Devin let out a slow shuddering moan. It was a wholly different experience to do this while sober, she felt him more. She felt the thickness of him, the way he stretched her, the strange pain of it. She felt him inside her not just in her pussy but it felt as if he was all the way in her guts and spreading throughout her body.
She had been an island, unattained and isolated, until this tsunami swept over her, completely smothering her, drenching her in wave after wave until the very island she'd been seemed to disappear.
And if felt good. Rough, deep, frantic, and hungry thrusts that now treated her own pleasure or comfort as an afterthought. That tidal wave that drowned her seemed to recede revealing some dark creature of her nature, something inside her that it may have planted or may have been there all along. This dark needful creature within Devin, that she'd seen for the first time when she'd looked in the mirror after knowing how horny she made Phil woke again. It was horny, and it wanted this.
'No, it's me, I want this,' she told herself.
"Fuck, oh fuck, use me, fuck me, Phil!" Hearing her own words, she snapped a little inside, and the feelings of pleasure grew. He yanked her narrow hips back against him, causing her to cry out and she realized, he wasn't even in all the way.
"You can do - anything you - anything you want to me," she hissed sharply between thrusts.
Phi's must have heard, because he yanked her body back away from the couch and reached around to her little cit. "Cum for me, baby, cream that little cunt all over my cock."
His rubbing of her clit and the sound of his voice short circuited the high voltage in her cunt all the way to her twisted perverse mind, swiftly stirring the pleasure upwards with every thrust, she felt the orgasm within the pit of her growing slowly building in her entire body like water filling a balloon.
Her gasps and whines grew in pitch, gasping, grasping and desperate. She was so loud, he grasped and covered her mouth, rubbing her clit and thrusting with on harder push that finally burst the bubble inside her.
She squealed and bit as waves of buzzing tingling pleasure shot through her, she came hard. Harder than her young inexperienced mind could imagine possible. He called out in pain of his own finger being bitten, and pulled it back while she shuddered and came beneath him, gasping.
He pulled out swiftly, causing another tremor of a mini orgasm to run through the non-syllabic young girl. Her mind in a haze, and her body tingling too much to move with and reasonable coordination she could only spectate as she felt him jerking quickly, and listened to him grunt before she felt the warm splash of semen land on her bottom and start dripping to her thighs.
Somehow, he'd rubbed the cum into her skin and gently guided her to the couch where she curled up in the fetal position, leaning against him, her panties still around her knees, flush, sweaty, and weak.
"I'm sorry," she offered, "for biting you."
He just laughed, "You didn't even break the skin, kiddo."
She didn't know why but she somehow felt like her apology was wrong, but she just couldn't understand the feeling. It didn't matter anyway, *He* was hugging her. *He* was holding her.