Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Impulsive
   by Nysidra
   Fiction
   <->
   -_ Impulse _-
   Jessica wanted him.  As sure as any obsessive or addict would know, the
feeling was undeniable.
   The man was a stranger to her, but that did not keep her insane notions
at bay.  He had only been a part of her life for ten seconds.
   This did not matter either.
   Visions of her crush were juicier than a bartender's blender.
   ***
   She kissed along his neck, down his chest to his belly.  All the while
looking up at him as her leader and inspiration.  Finally she went to her
knees and licked along the shaft of his cock.  She licked and purred,
knowing that she couldn't take him in her mouth until he gave permission.
   He groaned and put one hand around the back of her head and the other
positioned his cock to her mouth.  She groaned, licking and slurping, happy
to taste him.  She massaged him with her lips and tongue, humming and
smiling.
   As she felt him getting close she sucked and moaned, begging to be
filled with his ejaculate.  He growled as he emptied into her throat.
   Gentle motions, the occasional swipe of her tongue under his spent cock.
She wouldn't release him until he allowed her.
   Would he let her stay and get him hard again?
   ***
   Yes, this stranger of a few scant minutes inspired depraved thoughts of
pure lust, if not more.
   Certainly more.  More dangerous, more insane.
   ***
   Her wrists and ankles were strapped to a metal frame.  Spread and
displayed, face down, for his use.
   He slammed into her, jostling her body with each thrust.  She could not
scream around the gag in her mouth.  Saliva surrounded it and dripped down
from her in clear, ragged, swinging ropes.
   A low, feral grunt was the only sound she managed during her orgasm. 
She could not escape, tied and freed to experience the full extent of his
passion.
   His blunt nails created long, red whelps down her back until he drew
blood.  Drops of it plopped onto the dark floor with her saliva and puddles
of sweat.
   ***
   The possibility of knowing him had her adrenaline flowing.
   "Welcome to the Ranch.  What can I get you to drink?"
   "Brandy." He never looked up from his menu.
   For a few seconds she couldn't move.  She heard the order, but there was
something more she needed to do or say.
   Just put in the order.
   She went to the bar and put in the alluring man's liquor order.
   "Water," she whispered.
   She scanned the other tables.  Chances like this were the stock of her
daydreams as a server: that one day she would get a customer that got her
juices flowing.
   Not just flowing, gushing.  She wanted to be taken away from this place
and its dull mediocrity.  She needed the light glinting off the razor
blade, the sting of the thorn, the rush of the unknown.
   Say something to him.  Do it.
   Just because she knew what she wanted, it did not mean she knew where to
begin, or if he would play along.
   But what if he did?
   ***
   "Excuse me, sir.  Would you fuck me?"
   "Do you want me to fuck you right here?"
   "Yes, please.  I want everyone to see what a massive slut I can be for
you."
   "Bend over this table and show me your cunt."
   She hiked her skirt, shimmied her tights down to her ankles and bent
over the table.
   Gasps from the other customers, whispers.  Her coworkers witnessed her
throw all caution to the wind.  They envied her wild state, wished they had
the same strength.
   ***
   She set down his brandy along with a glass of water.  Her heart buzzed
like a pair of hummingbird wings.  In her mind she was bent over the table,
while his fingers made noisy work of her pussy.
   Should she ask his name first?  Did she mention her name?
   "The strip steak, medium.  Baked potato side."
   Would he like salad or soup?  Her mouth hung open to pose the question,
but she spun on her heels to put in his order instead of squawking what
could only be nonsense.
   "Jess, you've got 26."
   "Rick, would you take it?"
   Rick straightened from his perch on the stool.  "You sure?"
   "Yes.  Thanks."
   "Thank you." He grabbed an order pad and a pen and headed to the dining
area.
   She delivered the steak and baked potato, refilled his brandy.  He never
touched the water.  Each visit to his table was another missed opportunity,
but a fresh refill of her growing infatuation.
   ***
   He spanked her between her spread legs.  His fingers smacked her outer
labia, her protruding clit.  Smack, smack, smack.
   Sometimes his touch was light, just barely making an impact, and then a
hard one resulting in a low burn.  It hurt, causing her to howl and
shudder. Her breath turned shallow and her eyes rolled back in her head. 
She was going to come so hard from the pain.
   She begged for him to continue.  He loved to see her pussy all swollen
and red.  The best part was when he kissed her better.
   Cool, slick tongue on her throbbing clitoris.  She screamed for more. 
For him to suck on her, the way she knew he would if she begged just right.
   ***
   The check!
   She grabbed a spare slip of paper and wrote the most direct and
forthright statement on her mind: "I want to have sex with you."
   She could get fired or laid, or neither.
   Sex?  Was that really what she wanted?  Would she be satisfied with
being pressed, face first, into a wall?  Clothes on, mostly, save the part
he needed to get his cock inside her.  He would keep his hand tight around
her throat to keep her from disturbing the customers.
   He could fuck her and walk away.  Leave her breathing hard, hugging the
wall, thighs running milky white with his spent semen.
   "You have a good evening." Jessica said with her brightest, friendliest
smile as she set down the billfold.
   Greenish blue eyes, thick, dark brown hair, full lips, strong jaw.  He
slid the billfold over and went back to the last of his potato.
   Nothing.
   ***
   She was on her back, the cold concrete pressing to her bones.  His shoe
had been in someone's yard recently.  The smell of grass and soil wafted
from the sole.  The pant leg of his trouser brushed the bottom of her chin.
   "Why would I want to touch a scummy little bitch like you?" He wiped the
dirty heel of his shoe off on her breasts.  Tiny pebbles dug into her skin.
   ***
   Her hands trembled as she tended the other tables, stumbled over her
greeting, had to have orders repeated back to her.  She went to the kitchen
to help another server.  Only a few seconds, but when she emerged, he was
gone.
   Stupid.  Jessica cleared the table and searched for her manager.  He was
at a table across the room, laughing with one of the customers.
   She put her fingers to the outside of the black folder.  Green bills
peeking from the top.
   "I don't know how that cretin manages to show his face."
   "Because he has no morals, empty on the inside."
   "All that charm filled with foul perversions."
   "Tell me again how much you hate him." The woman behind her giggled.
   "I hate that fucking reptilian prick."
   More laughter.  "Elizabeth said something just like that, told me he was
impossible to date: emotionally distant, distracted, erratic."
   "Elizabeth was a fool for trying.  Warned her."
   Jessica tucked the bill in her apron and turned around.
   "You stay as far from that one as you can, honey." The woman with dark
curls pulled into a tight ponytail pointed her salad fork at her.  "Be glad
he never said anything back to you."
   "Why?" She'd spoke to him?
   "Sadistic fucking psychopath, if you don't mind me saying so."
   "Morally bankrupt," the other chimed in.  "He'll rot you from the
inside."
   Rare joys in Jessica's life, the moments when reality overlaid the
constant wonderland of her inner universe.  Moments like this had all the
brilliance of a rainbow, combined with the buried treasure under its
origin.
   She gave the women a polite smile and nod.  "Thank you.  Is there
anything I can get you?"
   A sharp blade along the throat, perhaps?
   For a heartbeat or two, those heavily made-up eyes would widen.  The
woman's mouth would open, but only blood, running down her chest in a
growing fountain of life.
   These women wouldn't not know a sadistic psychopath if one smiled at
them and asked to refill their glasses.
   "She had a coke, and I just want a water."
   "Okay, I'll be right back with your coke and your water."
   Jessica went to the bar, but not to put in a drink order.  She pulled
the bill from her pocket.  He had paid the $45 bill, and left her with $20.
   The note she'd written was gone.
   ***
   That day in the restaurant was long behind her.  Two weeks come and gone
and he did not return.  She stopped scanning the parking lot in fear and
anticipation, seeking him around every dark corner, hoping he would find
her inside her home.
   Taken, unable to cry out, not that she wanted anyone to come and stop
him, but he didn't know that.  He would figure that part out when the head
of his cock slipped along her slit.
   He smiled down at her and she smiled at him as best she could through
the fabric stuffed in her mouth.
   He breathed in her ear as he fucked her, slow and steady, taking his
pussy because she belonged to him, and he could take her whenever he
wanted.
   Yes, Jessica was aware that she had it bad.
   If she found a guy that tickled her imagination, she was lucky if it
lasted past getting the man home.  The ones she missed were especially
forgettable.  Why pine over something she failed to get?
   She should be grateful.  'Good thing, honey.' If those women were right,
then she narrowly avoided starring in her very own crime scene.
   Twisted, bruised, distended, bleeding.  The flies drew the police to the
room in the abandoned building.  Rats had nibbled at her belly.  Maggots
flourished in her chest.  Beetles crawled under her clothing.  Two
detectives, one on each side of her, the guy with the camera.  Crouch,
click, shuffle.  Click, click.  Lights flashing, casting shadows in the
rotted holes.
   Buzz buzz.
   Jessica looked at the screen of her phone.
   A map and a time from Anna.  "Bring Nathan."
   She typed back, "We broke up."
   "Better.  Bring condoms."
   She tapped on the map location with a sigh.  "???"
   "For double fun.  No work tomorrow."
   Jessica grinned and leaned from side to side, considering the invitation
and the prospect.
   ***
   They lined up to take her.  Stroking their dicks and rubbing her tits
while they waited.  One after another, rutting inside the living, breathing
fuck doll.
   An announcer walked the stage behind her with a large black mic in hand.
"That's right, ladies and gentleman.  She breathes; she bleeds, but she'll
never, ever say no.  It's a living fuck doll.  Pump and dump inside this
very special lady.  Free trials all day today!  Bring your friends!"
   Her body was soon covered in the pungent smell of spunk.  She couldn't
see who mauled her tits, who had taken on the task of rubbing her skin
until it was sticky.
   Balls rested on her eyelids while another cock rubbed her pussy raw.
   ***
   These parties were never that fun.
   A few cool people, but most others making it up as they went along. 
Rules, boundaries, and fences kept everything light-hearted and pretty.
   That would be okay for tonight.  She'd always have her mind to help if
she planned on getting off.
   Jessica typed the reply, "See you there."
   ***
   What exactly does sadistic mean to normal people?  What if they weren't
normal?  What if they knew?  What if the warning went deeper than, 'he
likes to spank girls'?
   Jessica pondered these and many other questions while staring at the man
in the other room.
   Sadistic meant: 'not fun.'
   ***
   She looked down at the blood, but the wounds were on her body, the
blades had sunk into her own flesh.
   'No,' she opened her mouth to speak, but the sound caught in her throat.
Black blood trickled down her lip.  Lifeblood spilled down her skin.
   He set the knife down and lowered his pants.
   'Help me.' She formed the words with tears in her eyes.
   He slid his cock inside her and reached over for the box of salt. 
Swish, swish.  White crystals rained down on her body, setting her wounds
aflame.  The effort to scream sent more blood into her mouth.  Her chest
made a weird gurgling noise.
   He grunted with delight, slamming so hard into her that he had to keep
dragging her back down on his cock.
   ***
   Not fun.  Right?  That would be ...  not ...  fun.
   She needed to get out of his line of sight.
   Not yet, after he went to another...
   Where did he go?!
   She looked at the dark blue denim and forest green shirt approaching. 
He was a stranger to her, but such a frequent actor in her fantasies.
   He sat beside her on the couch.
   Fuck all the things.  He was a mountain of sexy.  Jessica felt the
neurons of her mind entering nuclear melt down.  Why was he this close? 
Why wasn't he closer?
   Wait.  Why was he here?  How was he still real?
   "Do you know me?"
   "No." Jessica grinned through her fear.  "What's your name?"
   He chuckled and shook his head.  "Luke Chambers.  I'm parked out front
if your offer is still open."
   What?  Seriously?!  No!
   People didn't really say things like that.
   What if he did?  She'd made the offer after all.
   Like a cheap electronic alarm, warning sirens went off in her mind.  No.
Stop.  No.  Stop.
   "Excuse me." Jessica got to her feet and found the nearest bathroom. 
She closed the door, turned the lock.  With a trembling hand she turned on
the faucet and splashed her face.
   Breathe.
   In through the nose, out the mouth.
   ***
   Moaning out through her mouth.  The liquid running down her face was a
combination of sweat and tears.  It hurt so much having him back there,
spreading her ass to mold perfectly to his cock.
   "Beg for my cock."
   She looked over her shoulder.  She could see him, see the place where
her ass had swallowed the head.  He had so much more to give her if she
wanted.
   "Please, yes, fuck my ass." She groaned as sharp, searing pain radiated
out from tight ring of muscle.
   "Please," she gasped, "please.  Fuck me." The pain twinned with the
passion.  His thick shaft penetrated her until there was nothing left to do
but pull out.
   He pulled back until the ridge of his dick spread her wider.  Then all
the way back in.  One smooth thrust.
   ***
   "Yeah, do it.  Fuck me, baby." Another woman's voice through the wall.
High pitched, performance style.  "Ugh, yeah.  Do it.  Fuck, fuck."
   Jessica pat her face dry and looked at her reflection.  She pat down the
sweat on her chest, tucked her trembling hands under her arms.
   It was only one night, not a relationship.  He came to this party, so he
couldn't kill her now.  People knew him.
   She didn't know him.
   Two women knew him.
   "I want him," Jessica whispered.
   When she left the bathroom, she found him in the same spot, sitting on
the couch, relaxed as a sunning cat.  Around him people were beginning to
pair up, make out, light petting.  The timid overture to a tepid symphony.
   "Meet you out front," she said.
   ***
   Nerves churned in Jessica's half-empty stomach along the ride.
   Luke Chambers.  That's right.  He had a name.  Handsome, reclusive,
sadistic.
   She really wanted to have sex with this man?
   She stared at the hand wrapped around the dark steering wheel.  She
wanted those same hands wrapped around her hips.  If he wanted to smack her
ass and hold her by the throat, she wouldn't fuss.
   Were they supposed to talk?  She might not be able to respond if he said
anything.  He didn't even ask her name.  Was there anything she wanted to
know about him?
   Would he kill her?
   The drive wasn't too long.  They pulled into a subdivision, drove past
one and two-story homes.  They passed several streets with names like
Pinemeadow Lane, Pinemeadow Court, Evergreen Circle, Pine Blossom Avenue.
   How did a delivery person enter this maze and leave alive?
   He lived in a house at the end of Willow Springs lane.  Quiet road.  The
other house windows were dark.  No children running through the streets. 
The house itself was impressive, at least two visible floors, manicured
lawn, stone walkway.
   She walked into the house and the interior was more of the same,
polished floor, pristine pale beige carpet.  The large windows of the
living room were covered by heavy, dark drapes.  A flat screen television
covered most of one wall.
   "Have a seat." He pointed into the living room.
   She opted for the couch.  It felt wonderful, firm, good enough to play
on.
   The shadow of a thought crossed her mind, bend over the front, but
Jessica pushed it away.  Nerves were too high now.  This had become too
real.
   What had she done?
   Luke didn't go far.  A fridge door opened, ice clinked.  He returned
with two drinks - dark brown liquor.  Brandy?
   "Do you have a cell phone?"
   "Yeah," she pulled it from her purse and showed off last year's model.
She didn't use it much for crazy applications or games, but last year was
the first time that she could afford a new phone.
   "Turn it off." He set her drink down in front of her.
   He didn't say it in a mean way, and it wasn't really an order.  His tone
had been relaxed, matter of fact.  He made the statement as easily as one
would say, 'take off your jacket.'
   For that reason, Jessica powered her phone down and put it back in her
purse.  She leaned forward and picked up her glass.  "Did you ever come
back to the restaurant?"
   He was standing on the other side of the table, near the chairs.  She
wasn't wrong about the man being handsome.  He had that 'distinguished
gentleman' look about him.  Cultured, healthy, brilliant, devious.
   Did he do all those things because he lacked in the sexual department?
Did he find her attractive or just amusing?  Well, he was at that party,
and people went there to get laid.  Perhaps that's where she should have
been.  The whole pre-one-night-stand small talk wasn't her strong point.
   "No.  Do you have much experience with those notes?"
   "No," she grinned.  What did he think when he picked it up?  "You're my
first."
   Her attempts to play it cool were going to crack if they didn't get
around to the main event.  She sipped from the glass.  She'd never had
whatever this was before, but it tasted good.  She sipped a little more.
   "What made me the lucky recipient?"
   "I saw you sitting there." Another sip.  "I wanted to be," no she really
couldn't talk about that.  How many ways had they fucked in her mind? 
Never mind the moments when she first saw him, but the days and weeks after
had been worse.
   "I developed an instant crush." Ugh, crush was such a high-school word.
"With work in my way, I didn't have time to explain, so I got to the
point." This stuff was smooth.  It made her belly warm.  Her cheeks
tingled.
   How long before he realized that she wasn't the confident, brave woman
she had been playing?
   "Yes, you did.  I had other business that evening, but you have my full
attention now."
   What was she doing here?  Was she crazy?
   That hadn't been a serious consideration up to this point.  What if he
sucked in bed?  What if he had a disease?  What if sadistic meant more than
a round of rough and tumble sex?
   Jessica emptied the drink.  They must have still been talking, because
she heard words leaving her mouth.
   Sad thoughts went through her mind.  Bad sex, wasted time.  Tiny cock
prodding away at a dry pussy.  A kiss that was too wet, too cold, too
sloppy to be arousing.  Skin that felt pebbly and covered in days old
sweat. It could be like that if she wasn't careful.
   He looked cleaner than that.
   Jessica leaned forward with her empty glass in hand, but the world
shifted too quickly.  Her arm was slow in getting the glass to the table,
but she made it.  Set it too close to the edge though, she pushed it along
with her finger.
   Once, twice.  It slid.
   That was a nice glass.  Crystal?  She didn't know much about
kitchenware. Was it called glassware?
   She yawned, but didn't bother to cover her mouth.  It was too late for
that.
   Couch felt so good under her.  She could just stretch out and...
   "Tired?" He wore a broad, dashing smile as he settled on his knees in
front of her.
   ***
   Candlelight flickered on the wall.  Several candles, smells of blue and
green and a little pink.
   Jessica blinked to clear her vision and attempted to sit up.  Her wrists
strained against scratchy binds, keeping her on her back.  She wriggled her
legs and her ankles jerked against restraints.
   Her mouth, however, was free.
   She licked her lips, angled her head down.  Past her breasts she could
view the curls of her pubes.  Stark naked, head to toe.
   She rolled her head from side to side.  She had a slight headache, but
there was a pillow tucked under the back of her head.  The room's
temperature was pleasant: neither too warm or too cool.
   Four wax candles sitting in deep glass vases.  A long cylindrical staff
lay across a pair of hooks.  Braided leather hung from a hook near that
one. Was that a tool box?  Black with silver latches.  A dresser on her
left, and a free standing closet on her right.
   There had never been a moment like this in Jessica's life: a moment of
reality, when that reality was more vibrant and interesting than the
workings of her inner mind.  Unlike her imagination, her fantasies and day
dreams, she had no control over this.  This was being done to her, not for
her.
   Was she supposed to be afraid?  Afraid of death, pain?  Did he plan to
rape and abuse her?
   As far as adventures went, this was already at the top of the list. 
Starred and favorited.  What would a normal woman do in this situation? 
Scream, cry, issue demands?
   She closed her eyes, settled onto the bed, and took slow, deep breaths.
Meditation, relaxation.  Her impulsive leaps would not suffice in this kind
of situation.
   What could she do?  On the upside, she had plenty of time to decide. 
Oddly enough, her first thought did not change much over time.  If she was
trapped in the real version of her fantasy, then she would become the
fantastic version of herself.
   She licked her lips.  "May I have some water?"
   She spoke out of respect, a casual, kind request.  She wanted to be with
him, even after that warning from the past lover.  She may have been
jealous, bitter.  Everyone is not wired to enjoy the things that made her
heart race.
   The room looked like one of those fancy massage parlors that women paid
$300 an hour for the promise of youth, vitality, and renewed health.
   Why did he take her note, invite her to his home, drug her, tie her
down? What did he need that she could give?
   The last thing she remembered.  He was kneeling between her thighs with
a smile on his face.  Did he take liberties with her body when he undressed
her?  If he did, then he'd been gentle about it.
   A door opened, but no further light entered the room, only Luke,
carrying a glass of water.  He supported her head with one hand and held
the glass to her lips with the other.
   She drank until he removed the glass.  "Thank you."
   "Do you think cool, calm, and collected will bore me?  Force me to let
you go?"
   "No."
   Was there anything she could do to get him to let her go?  Not just yet,
but maybe in the morning?
   "I asked to be here, why would I want you to let me go?" She drew a
rattled breath.  Doing this stuff in real time was harder, fraught with
danger.
   He stood there, arms folded over his chest, but listening.
   "If this is what you like, I can dig that." But only so far.  Should she
mention that?  Was it not obvious that she wasn't suicidal?
   "Can you?" He walked over to the closet and pulled it open.  Straps
dangled from a handle.  He stood near her midsection and struck her thigh.
   The flesh burned.  Her wrists snapped against the restraints.  Fat,
angry whelps rose on her thigh.  Her eyes watered as she shrank back.  So
much pain.  It was hard to breathe, to remember how that particular trick
was done.
   "Can you?"
   She blinked, gasped, but now that she had learned to breathe all she
wanted to do was scream, curse him.  That wasn't what he wanted.  He asked
a question so he wanted an answer.
   "Maybe.  I'm not so sure anymore.  That really hurt." She stifled her
whimper.  Don't cry.  Don't be a little bitch.
   She should save that for when he brought out the chain saw, drill, or
mallet.
   He walked to the other side of the bed, a slow saunter, looking at his
work.  He leaned over her left thigh and traced the whelps on her right. 
Each touch was like a new strike, soft but sending fresh signals of pain
through her.
   But his touch ...  it was gentle, not a smack or a scratch.  He wasn't
biting her, trying to eat her alive.
   Not yet.
   He stood up and struck her left thigh.
   Jessica screamed.  She didn't have the option to think about it that
time.  It wasn't that this one hurt anymore than the one that came before
it, only that she didn't want to be hit, didn't want to feel pain, not like
this.  Only one scream, she stifled it as soon as she could catch her
breath.
   "Please," she whimpered.
   "Please what?"
   Good point.  How many times had Jessica laughed at the plight of a
crying victim during a horrific film?  Crying and whimpering like a little
child.  Is that really what she wanted to be?
   "Please," she sniffled, "tell me what you expect from me."
   "So that I can let you go?" He sang in a harsh whisper, but at least he
didn't hit her again.
   Eventually.  She couldn't play this one too fast.  There was still a
chance.  He hadn't pulled anything from the tool box.  She wasn't bleeding.
Her thighs stung like a pair of satanic bitches, but this hadn't gone to a
point of no return.  One step at a time.
   "So that we can fuck." Jessica sniffled and blinked her fresh tears
away. She rubbed her cheeks on the pillow, but any movement seemed to pull
at her thighs.
   She did not think this one through.  No, that couldn't really be to
blame.  She had done nothing, if not think it through - fantasize it to
death.  They were right.  She had been lucky when he walked away.  Now it
was too late to lean on luck.
   He set the whip aside, but did not return with another instrument of
torture.  He crawled onto the bed, rubbed his slick hands over her
throbbing thighs.  "Cry."
   Cry.  That was easy.  All she had to do was let go.  She let the river
rip.  Didn't she have the sense to beg for her life?  But when did that
ever help a woman?  She cried herself into a slobbering, head pounding
mess. This was all her fault, her error.
   'Have you considered how dangerous acting on these impulses could be?'
   She had rolled her eyes when the counselor said that.  How dangerous? 
It only seemed thrilling.
   Wasn't this a thrill?  Wasn't she dripping sweat and hemorrhaging
sadness?
   He left the room, but not through the same door.
   See?  Obedience did bore them.  There was no way to win.
   He returned with a warm cloth and wiped her face.  "I'd like to
apologize, Jessica."
   Her breath shuddered.  The warm cloth smoothed down her cheeks.  He
wiped her eyes, then cleared her nose.
   Did he just say apologize?
   He got up and went back into the other room.  She strained her ears and
picked up the sound of running water.  A bathroom.  He came back and wiped
her face a second time, cleaning up her neck and ears.  Then he unfastened
her wrists, massaged each one.
   She felt heavy from crying, her body wrung of energy.
   He freed her ankles, put each leg in his lap and massaged it.
   She lay there, breath hitching, sniffling.  Her thighs didn't hurt as
much.  Whatever had been on his hands must have soothed the whelps.  Why
would he do that?  Why was he letting her go?
   "Apologize?" Was this some kind of trick?  If so, wouldn't it have been
better to leave her bound to the bed?
   He chuckled.  "You truly do not know who I am.  I thought it a ruse, a
poorly thought out prank devised by my adversaries.  You've got some real
problems girl, but it's not being sent to entrap me."
   Why would a man have adversaries that a woman would be needed to entrap
him?  She had problems?  Ones he wanted to put an end to?  What was she
going to do now?
   Playing along had gotten her this far.
   "Thanks."
   He laughed.  "Welcome, Jessica.  Still want me to fuck you?  Or would
you rather a ride home?"
   What the fuck?  She just got a choice, a way out.  Fuck.  She rose to
her elbows, waited a breath, another shuddered breath, then she sat up.  It
took a bit of struggling.  The alcohol and whatever else he'd given her
left her feeling a bit like Bambi.  She needed to look at him, to see him
in this new light.
   "Fuck me.  I want you to fuck me, please."
   He reached out and thumbed her cheek, leaned forward and pecked her on
the lips.  "Get on your stomach."
   He entered her with no resistance.  She was slick, swollen, and ready to
accept him.  The moisture surprised her, but only a moment.  Jessica was
always wet at the strangest of times, especially when bored or just sitting
around.  Why not under the threat of death by a man who had figured heavily
in her fantasies?
   Fuck, this man must have been a beast between the legs.  He made her
forget the bondage, the drugging, and the reasons for his apology.  She
moaned and rocked back on his cock.  The sheets stung her thighs, but that
didn't matter.  He was thick!
   He mostly held still while she pushed back, arched her hips upward. 
Working him deeper inside her.  She did not imagine he would be so well
endowed.
   Finally, she had what she wanted.  He pulled on her hips, bringing her
to her knees and slammed into her, pounding the perfect spot inside her. 
Her fears about his performance were unfounded.  He had her dripping wet
and on the verge of orgasm.
   Jessica pressed her face into the pillow to muffle her screams.
   He made a fist in her hair and yanked her head up.
   Message received and understood.  She screamed.  Genuine expressions of
surprise and delight.  She was being fucked the way she imagined she should
be.  Hard, fast, passionate, effective.  Did it get any better than this?
Would she be able to find out one day?
   Their bodies smacked together.  Each moment created sparks, and the
whole of her soul was set on fire.  She screamed as her body surged with
orgasmic joy.
   "Damn it, girl.  You're quite the wanton whore, aren't you?"
   "Yes!" She was sopping wet around him, her pussy throbbing with need. 
He squished in and out of her.  He was a living machine, wringing every
drop of sensation from her body.
   "Damn right.  You are a gorgeous fucking cock slut.  Do you want to come
again?  Do you want more of this cock?"
   "Yes!  Please, yes."
   He groaned and he pushed her onto her back.  One of her legs lay flat on
the bed and he pushed the other up to her chest.  Sweat stung her thigh,
but that didn't matter.  That fat rod getting back inside her was at the
forefront of her mind.
   He thrust back inside her with a low grunt.  "Here it is."
   She moaned like it was best thing in the world.  In truth, at that
moment, it was.  Not just because he had a fat, long cock spreading her
open.  Not just because she had already come once and was hoping to do so
again.  It had everything to do with the euphoria of not dying, of not
screaming in pain, of not rotting in a hole surrounded by vermin and her
spilled blood.
   "Fucking slut.  Wet fucking cunt squeezing my cock.  I want to feel you
come again.  Show me how much you love my cock beating the cum out of you."
   His pace turned brutal, the sensation: divine.  Nothing but that moment,
that bliss, blazed through her body as she reached a plateau higher than
she had achieved with any other man, any toy even.  She blanked out,
thought nothing, felt only euphoria - a full body electrical storm that had
no equal in her past.
   With a deep roar, he dove into her with a piston's force and timing. 
The roar softened to a series of grunts as he came inside her.  He held her
tight to him and thrust as he rode out his orgasm.
   When it ended, he brought her other leg to the bed and pulled out of
her.
   He walked to the dark room beside the bed, tugging at the condom on his
softening cock.
   She lay where he left her, arms and legs spread, sweat cooling on her
body, her breath coming back down from its labored pace.  Aftershocks of
pleasure coursed through her.  Jessica had a mountain of orgasms in her
life, multiples per day, but never one so all consuming, and never anything
so close with another person.
   Please let him do that again.
   He came back into the room and stood at the foot of the bed.  His breath
came heavy, but deep and slow, like that of a great beast.
   He had become her great beast.  A massive creature crawled from the pit
of hell with a cock created for pornographic fantasy.  She got her first
real view of it, slack, but thick.  What was that?  Nine or ten inches
hard? Big as a half dollar around?
   She wanted to worship at his altar, to offer up sacrifices to him.
   The deeply satisfying sensation of completion could not be beat.  He
crawled on the bed over her, threaded his fingers through hers.  "I expect
that if you are injured, you will tell me.  Are you injured?"
   "Stings a bit on my thighs, but otherwise I'm delightful." With his face
so close, she got her first good look of his stubble, the shadow of old
scars, the damp clumps of hair on his head.  He smelled good, lickable.
   She bit on her tongue to keep from doing just that - taking a long swipe
of his cheek.
   "Do you have any diseases, slut?"
   "No, and I--" Stop.  If he wanted to think of her as a slut, why would
she dispel him of that notion?  This was going to be over the moment she
returned home.  She could be whatever he wanted for the moment.
   "And you?"
   "I ...  get tested every year.  I'm clean, and I'm not a slut.  I just
like to fuck, doesn't mean I get to do it often."
   He hummed and rubbed his nose to hers.  A drop of sweat fell from his
forehead to hers.  He straddled her hip, the cool length of his cock rested
on her belly.  "You think I called you a slut to demean you?"
   Well, she never saw too much demeaning in it.  She often fantasized
about someone who thought the same way as she did, but actually finding
that person always seemed too far removed from reality.
   "I can't be sure what other people think.  I don't think like other
people."
   He laughed.  "No kidding.  Then allow me to explain.  A greedy little,
cock hungry pussy like yours, eager to take my cock could only belong to a
slut.  You are a slut, a whore, a wanton, orgasm-addicted cunt."
   His lips played over hers, a soft kiss that ran counter to his earlier
brusqueness.  This was the same man capable of drugging her, tying her to a
bed, and beating her with a whip.
   "Why did you get cold feet tonight?"
   Jessica's heart hammered in her chest.  They'd had sex.  She'd cried and
screamed on this bed.  Most encounters would come to a graceful end by this
time.  She wasn't bound to the bed, but she was trapped under his body.  He
still held her prisoner, though he had set her free.
   Would all that change when her answer exposed the truth?  How would he
react?  She couldn't imagine the possibilities.  Luke had become both what
she feared and hoped for.  So much more lay in between.
   "I'm listening." He took each of her hands into each of his and pinned
them over her head.
   "After that evening in the restaurant, I was clearing your table, and
these two women were talking about you.  They made you seem cruel,
dangerous."
   He hummed low in his throat as if intrigued instead of upset.  "What did
they say?" He let go of her hands and sat back.  He busied himself with her
nipples, pulling, caressing, bunching her breasts together then letting
them fall apart.
   "One of them said you were a sadist.  The other said I was lucky you had
no interest in me.  Psychopathic, I think, and stuff like that."
   "You believed them?"
   "A little, but not really.  I mean, she seemed upset, like a jealous
harpy with a mouth full of sour grapes."
   He laughed and tumbled on the bed beside her.  "Mmm," then he chuckled a
bit longer.  "Clever of you." He rested on her shoulder.  "I was
interested, but like I said, I had other work to do."
   What did he do for work?  Not a question she needed to ask.  This was
just a moment, a dangerous, thrilling, adventure that she would have to set
aside and move on from.
   "Get up.  I've got your clothes out here.  Don't think I can intimidate
you any more than my reputation has."
   When he extended his hand to her, she accepted the help.  Goodness he
looked good naked, firm, muscled and soft.  She wanted to touch him, to run
her hand over his skin, then her tongue.  How much of that monster cock
could she fit in her mouth?
   He was an amusement park, and she was only in town for one night.  No
time to ride all the rides or see all the sights.  She should be thankful
for the briefness of their encounter, but part of her would be fantasizing
the things that could have been for months to come.
   "Why the intimidation?"
   "I like to watch a woman tremble like a frightened rabbit, but what I
got from you was much better.  I like you."
   Jessica's smile contained equal parts politeness and fear.  Did she want
him to like her?  Did that mean he wasn't going to hurt her anymore?  That
was a good thing right?
   He led her down the hall, but not towards the living room.  They entered
his bedroom.
   Lavish and simple.  A large bed with a plain blanket and a couple
pillows.  Flat screen television mounted on the wall.  A full set of
matching dark wood furniture.  A thin lap top charged on the side table. 
The open bathroom door revealed a large tub, gleaming shower tile.
   "May I?" She pointed to the bathroom.
   "Go on."
   While using the toilet she stared down at her thighs.  Pink whelps, a
bit puffy, but otherwise nothing to cry about.
   Lies.  The pain she'd felt had been so much to cry about.  Maybe she was
a baby after all, a wimp, and a faker.  She wiped herself, and took plenty
of fresh arousal with her.
   Her body was still willing to play this game.  She washed her hands,
cleaned her face up a bit more.
   De ja vu.  She stared at her reflection in the mirror.  Her eyes were
puffier, lips a bit swollen, eyes red and cheeks flushed.
   'The night is not over,' she mouthed to her reflection.  'Play through.'
   Two more drinks.  He pointed to hers and sipped from his.
   "Am I going to pass out again?" She swirled the dark liquor in the
glass.
   He shrugged and sipped from his, a hint of amusement and further
challenge sparkled in his pale brown eyes.
   Boredom.  That must be what drove him to do such outlandish acts.  She
knew the feeling, though she tended to fantasize about these acts, not ...
act.
   Challenge accepted.
   She picked up the drink, about two ounces of dark liquid, no ice.  She
sat on his bed with one leg folded under her and drank in progressively
larger gulps until she had taken it all down, then set the empty glass on
the side table.
   Whoa.  This stuff hit much faster than whatever she drank before.  It
wasn't as sweet, had more of strength to it.  Warmth exploded in her torso,
her skin flushed.
   "All because you wanted to fuck me, huh?"
   Jessica nodded as the world swayed from side to side, like the gentle
rock of a large swing.  She took the liberty of turning back his bed
sheets. "Are sluts allowed in your bed?"
   "Sluts are the only ones I allow such a high privilege."
   She giggled and ran her palm over the smooth, cool sheets.  Was this
some exotic fabric like Egyptian cotton or some kind of million thread
count silk-cotton combo?
   "Do you know what I do, Jessica?"
   She shook her head and stretched on her back.  Legs and arms spread as
if she were tied down again.
   Another subtle smirk.  Her position must have met with his approval.
   Perhaps she should care?  One day, eventually.  She was never going to
know this man again.  What did that matter?  "I know what I need to know
about you."
   "What's that?"
   "You know how to fuck."
   He plopped on the bed beside her.  "Thank you, but now it's your turn."
He tossed a condom onto her chest.  "Get off your ass and fuck me."
   She took the condom in hand and scrambled to get on her hands and knees.
He lay down in her place, hands tucked behind his head, cock pointing
northeast.
   She opened the foil and pulled out the slick plastic disc.  She held it
between her fingers and leaned down to kiss his shaft.  He smelled of
spermicide, cum, and pussy juice - a heady combination.  She rolled the
condom down, her hand trembling, nerves fighting the alcohol, but
thankfully not winning.
   Did she know how to fuck?  No man had ever issued the compliment.  She'd
been 'a good lay', a 'good time', 'fun', and an assortment of kind words,
but no A+ rating specifically regarding her sexual talents.
   Straddling his hips, she reached down between her legs and angled his
cock at her opening.  She felt every part of him.  She wasn't sore, but
tender enough to take it easy.  She lowered onto him, but it was hard to
find an angle that didn't flirt with discomfort.
   A pretender, a failure.  She was not the woman she imagined, fantasized,
and he would see right through her.  She stared at his chest, around her
palm that rested on the hard pectoral.  She sat on him and stayed there,
mustering the courage to say what he already knew.
   Her words were less than a whisper, "I don't know what I'm doing."
   "When you don't know what you are doing, what is the appropriate
action?"
   She frowned worried her bottom lip.  "Ask for help?"
   He said nothing, it was barely a smile.  A single dark brown brow
arched.
   "You're really big."
   "Thank you.  Lean forward."
   Jessica did so until her breasts were pressed to his chest, their lips
nearly meeting.
   "There's a good girl." He combed his finger into the back of her hair
and placed another hand on the small of her back.  "Back and forth."
   With his guidance she rocked up and down.  He felt much better this way.
She whimpered into his neck, then eased back a little until her nipples
grazed his chest.
   "Better?" His eyes closed and he moaned.
   "Uh huh." It was even easier on her legs this way.
   "I believed you when you said you weren't a slut, not the way the world
thinks of it.  It's all in your head, isn't it?"
   She nodded.  Goodness he was so big, she rolled her hips, forcing him to
press the right spot inside her.
   "Want me to make it real?  Want me to show you how to be my slut?"
   "Yes, please.  Is this good?"
   "Better than I should admit." He pulled her down into a kiss and thrust
upwards, holding her firm.  "Now sit up a little."
   She eased back like he said.  Riding him, her body bobbing like a
easy-going carousel.  She shut her eyes and let her imagination take hold.
She embodied that woman, that slut, the one who knew way around a cock. 
"Thank you," she voice was high and weak and trembling, but the words were
honest.
   "Keep going.  Ah, fuck, ride me, squeeze my cock."
   The wetter she became, the easier and faster she could fulfill that
request.  Riding like this was too easy, better than she could imagine.
   He seemed as lost to lust as she had become, their bodies beaded with
sweat, the smell of them filling the room.
   She did it.  She had him trembling, growing, mewling and bucking into
her wet pussy, desperate to fill her full of the ejaculate that would be
stopped by the condom over him.
   ***
   The morning after, Jessica's head ached, her muscles protested, her
pussy burned.  She sank into the passenger seat of his car with her clothes
bundled in her lap.  She wore a large black 'Shredded Fetus Tour 2010'
shirt.
   "Is this it?" He asked of the sign to her apartment complex.
   "Yeah." She massaged the bridge of her nose with one hand and worked the
knot under he left ear with the other.
   "I enjoyed meeting you, and I do apologize for the distrust at the
start, but we ended it better, yes?"
   She grinned at him.  "Yes, much better."
   "Good.  Get plenty of rest."
   ***
   Over and done.
   Jessica spent the rest of her day in bed, after a thorough shower, food,
and a brief check of her email.  Another fantastic adventure down.
   Who was she kidding?  No one, not even herself.  The first, the only,
the most memorable.
   Far from forgettable.  She thought of him each day.  The memory of him
evoked a sensation: smell, taste, warmth, a tingle through her body.
   Three days later, after her shift, she viewed his car parked beside
hers. Luke sat in the driver's seat, the seat reclined, windows rolled
down.
   Not one night, then.  He'd found her, and she'd given him the perfect
location.  This was the parking lot of the building where she had latched
onto him.
   She walked over to his door and folded her arms over the window sill. 
"Hello."
   He opened his eyes, but he was most likely resting them instead of
asleep.  "Headed home?"
   She nodded.
   "What are you doing for dinner, Jess?"
   "Whatever's in the freezer."
   "Then I'll pick something up and meet you there."
   Would he now?
   She nodded while pulling out her keys.  "All right," she whispered. 
"See you there."
   He trailed her by a half hour, appeared at her door with a paper bag
filled with carry-out.
   They huddled around her coffee table, shoveling food into their mouths.
   This not was a relationship.  It wasn't.  It couldn't be, and all the
same, she was glad that he stopped by.
   "Do you have someone else?" He didn't have to explain.  She knew what he
meant.
   "We broke up a month ago.  I didn't have much interest in a
replacement."
   "There are papers inside my jacket pocket.  Get them."
   She wiped her hands and pulled the folded stack of four papers into her
lap.  Test results.  The papers detailed a full panel declaring him healthy
- sexually and otherwise.
   What could she say to that?  Thanks?  Congratulations?  Why should she
care?
   Over and done.  They couldn't be 'together' or any such wild fantasy.
   No one told him that.
   She got up and went to the bathroom.  When she returned, she kneeled
beside him on her rug.  He went and got himself tested, proved to her that
he could be with her, skin to skin.  Intimate, close.  Exclusive?
   She rubbed his thighs over the thick denim.  She thumbed his thickening
shaft.  "I think about you all the time."
   "That makes two of us." He unzipped his jeans, lifted his hips as she
tugged on the waist band.
   She rubbed her cheek along his inner thighs.  "Please teach me."
   "Of course.  Every good slut had a good trainer.  I'll teach you all you
need to know, precious."
   She took the head of his dick in her mouth, licked the head, wet the
shaft.  Just as he asked, she remained aware of his twitches, thrusts and
moans.  She reacted to each change, and though her jaw ached, it was worth
the reward of his ejaculate.
   Other than that first night, was it enough to consider him sadistic?  He
had been plenty eccentric and intense.  Would the real proof of that come
later, some time when she least expected it?
   She nearly gagged herself, trying to take too much of him at once.  Her
eyes watered and she pulled back before she embarrassed herself.  Moisture
trickled down her pussy lips.  She wanted him to ejaculate in her mouth, to
lose himself to her.
   "Take your time.  Use your hands, your whole body."
   That's exactly how she wanted to show her devotion.  Both hands, one on
his shaft and the other cradling his scrotum.  Clear drops of pre-ejaculate
wet her tongue.  She moaned and sucked him deeper, not really trying to
take him any further in her mouth.  That's where Jessica wanted him, as far
inside her throat as she could manage.
   She pulled off and licked around the crown, moaned as she sucked him
deep.  At this point, it wasn't so much about whether he enjoyed it or if
she was about to make him come.  Jessica enjoyed sucking his cock.  It was
as if the act calmed her, centered her frazzled mind.
   She scraped her fingernails down his outer thighs, groaned and rocked
her hips against the phantom image.
   "You need to ease up if you don't want me to blow right now."
   Jessica pulled off and took a deep gasping breath.  "You make me feel
crazy."
   "I think you're crazy enough without my help." He circled her lips with
his thumb then leaned forward to kiss her.
   "Fuck my face?"
   "Relax your mouth, remember to swallow then breathe."
   "I think I love you."
   He smirked and leaned back.  He set a steady pace, bobbing her head up
and down on his prick.  She moaned and hummed over his cock, enjoying as
much if not more than him.
   He thrust deep into her mouth with a growl.  She couldn't breathe and
didn't try.  She held her breath and relaxed, swallowed and swallowed
again. He filled her mouth with copious amounts of ejaculate.
   Finally he pulled out and she took her first breath, her body shuddering
and shaking.  She nearly hyperventilated with the effort to catch her
breath.
   She lay on his thigh and Luke stroked her head and back.  She squeezed
his thigh as she coughed and panted like she had just finished a
hundred-yard dash.  She nuzzled into his crotch and breathed the scent of
him deep.
   "Get up here." He helped her into his lap and slipped two fingers inside
her.
   She leaned on his shoulder and relaxed as he made wet, smacking noises
in her wet pussy.  His fingers thumped the wall of vagina, tapping the same
spot over and over until her heart raced.  It was such a light, but
persistent touch, pointed toward her pubic bone.
   Her whimpers grew and he kissed her on the side of her head.
   "Fuck my hand, Jess.  You like this?"
   "Yes." She clung to him, spreading her legs and bouncing.  Just when she
thought she was about to climax, he eased back, stopped.  He did that a
second and third time.  By the forth it was agonizing being held on the
brink for so long without relief.
   Jessica clenched her pussy tight, trying to force the orgasm he would
not provide.
   "Don't rush it." Luke said, "just relax."
   "Hard for me to do right now."
   "I could stop completely until you do."
   "No!" Her eyes went wide and she did her best to go with the flow.  Not
care.
   She calmed and he picked up the tempo.  His fingers worked pure magic
between her legs.  "Thank you," she whined.  "Please, thank you."
   "Such a polite slut.  Come hard."
   Her nails dug into his shoulder as the blood rushed to her clitoris, her
vaginal walls tense, asshole puckered.  Her feet went cold and tingly and
then everything flat-lined.  Jessica made the noises of a possessed woman,
her mind and body utterly within his control.
   All the tension left her body through her pussy, through the flow of her
ejaculate.  "Oh fuck."
   "Don't stop.  Keep coming."
   Her heart raced so fast and loud that he must have been able to hear it.
   His fingers were still inside her, but not moving.  She could feel them
during her aftershocks, trembles, mini orgasms that followed the main
event. He leaned down and kissed her, not so hard that she couldn't breathe
though.  Gentle, near loving.
   "Where's your bed?" He whispered.
   ***
   Jessica must have answered that question because that was where she woke
up.  She rolled over, and reached out blindly with her hand.  Cold sheets.
He hadn't stayed the night with her.
   Did she expect him to?  In truth, she didn't expect to see him again,
but she had.
   What was his address?  Phone number?  If she wanted to see him again,
how would she manage it?  She didn't memorize the directions to his house.
   Her pussy was sore.  She reached down and felt the tender inner lips.
   She'd told him that she loved him, or thought she loved him?  Was it a
truth or fantasy?
   ***
   The impromptu dinner visit had been two weeks ago.  No more surprise
visits at her house or the restaurant.  Nothing.
   Two weeks and two days.
   Odd.  It was exactly what Jessica had wanted going in, but each day she
missed him, thought of him, craved him.  It pained her that she had no way
to contact him.
   It got so bad that she lay in bed crying one night.  Crying, actual
tears over a man she hardly knew.  She hardly knew him, and she knew him so
fucking well.  She missed him.  She did say that she loved him, and it
meant nothing.
   Jessica would have done anything to find him, even asking his so called
'enemies.' She called every Luke Chambers in the phone book, but they
weren't him.
   Buzz buzz.
   She dried her face and pulled her cellphone over.
   "Georgina's Birthday bash at Vinyl.  9pm till."
   Jessica could scroll up to the see the similar texts, all invites she
had ignored in the hope that she would see him.
   She got dressed and went out, but her heart wasn't into it.  Emotionally
distant.  Hadn't they said something like that?
   Sadistic.
   She whimpered and was about to have another cry in public, on the dance
floor.
   None of that.  She closed her eyes, there wasn't much of anyone around
her.  She stood near a wall, out of the flow of bodies.  She swayed to the
beat of the music, willing her mind to go some place other than to memories
of him.
   Someone walked up behind her and put two arms around her waist.
   Jessica spun and would have fallen if he weren't still holding her. 
What was he doing here?  How did he find her?  Was he even looking?  This
was the second time she met him at an event after never seeing this man
before in her life.
   He tightened the arm around her lower back and leaned down to kiss her.
A brief touch of their lips.
   Where had he been?  Why hadn't he said anything to her before now?
   She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest.  Fuck.
She didn't want to be that woman.
   "Miss me?" He squeezed both her ass cheeks and held her tight to his
erection.
   "More than you know.  How did you know where I was?"
   Instead of answering he nibbled on her ear lobe.  He walked away,
holding her hand and tugging her along toward the exit.  He led her all the
way to her car and extended his hand for the keys.
   She gave them to him and hopped in the passenger seat.  "How did you
know where I was?"
   "I tracked you."
   "The other time?  At the party?"
   "That one was purely coincidence."
   "If you can track me, if you know where I am--"
   "My work takes me out of town."
   The work she never bothered asking about.  Given his harsh tone and the
firm set of his jaw, if she asked any more questions, she might dig a hole
she couldn't get out of.
   "What can I do to make you feel better?"
   He came to a stop at the light and looked at her with a smile.  "I need
my slut.  I missed her so much, more than you know."
   That had her heart pounding overtime.  She knew what she had meant when
she said those words, but what about him?  It was if the storm clouds that
had been hanging over her parted, warm sunshine blazed on her skin.
   She reached over for his pants, ready to take him in the car.
   "Not yet." He took hold of her wrist with his free hand.  "I don't want
to be distracted from you."
   Who in the hell was this charming man?
   Jessica smiled to herself.  Sadistic, charming.  They hadn't lied, not
at all.
   So what about the psychopath?
   He pulled her car up to his house and she followed him inside.  She
kicked out of her shoes, unzipped her dress.
   Luke paused in the space between the living room and kitchen and watched
her undress.  Jessica's eyes kept going to the two bags of luggage by the
stairs.  Checked baggage tags were still wrapped around the handles.
   His clothes didn't look all that suited for clubbing.  Black loafers,
gray slacks, and a pale blue button down shirt.  There was probably a
matching blazer somewhere in that luggage.  It presented a wonderful
picture of him entering his house, throwing things aside and running off to
find her.
   He nearly found her in a depressive mess in her bed.
   Once she was naked she walked over to him and started on the buttons of
his shirt, the belt around his pants.  He stepped out of his shoes,
shrugged out of the shirt.  She worked until his clothes lay in a pile and
he stood naked.
   He grabbed her by the jaw and pressed his forehead to hers.  "Go lean on
the couch.  I want to look at you."
   She walked backwards until her butt hit the back of the couch.  Bracing
with her arms, she leaned back a little, her legs together.  The hair on
her mound was a short stubble, she had a healthy physique, but just
standing around naked, it began to trouble her.
   "Do you want me to do anything?"
   He whispered, "Just want to look at you."
   The clock above him ticked the seconds as they went by.  He pushed off
the wall and walked over to her then kneeled.
   She pushed on his shoulders and he rolled onto his back with a chuckle.
Jessica straddled his face.  He didn't miss a beat.  His tongue delved into
her pussy with a low moan.  She rolled her hips along his tongue.
   He grabbed her hips and brought her down on his cock, but not for long.
Four thrusts and then he lifted her off, walked her to the side of the
couch and bent her over it.  "I'm going to fuck your ass." He leaned over
her back and growled low in her ear.  "You're going to let me, aren't you?"
   What?!  That thing?!
   "Yes."
   He laughed and kissed her cheek.  "Not tonight.  I want you to enjoy it.
Start fucking yourself with a dildo for me.  Start small." He rocked inside
her pussy.  "Don't hurt yourself."
   Just the thought of him inside her ass scared her, but the way he wanted
her to prepare herself for him, and the purr of his voice while he fucked
her.  Suddenly she wanted him in her ass.  She wanted to be ready for him.
   He pulled out until just his head was inside her, then pushed deep
again. "That's how I'm going to fuck your ass.  Is that what you want?"
   "Scares me, but yes."
   "Don't be scared.  You'll love it.  You'll beg me for it." He growled
and fucked her harder.  He reached between her legs and rubbed her
clitoris. "I've got a vibrator that I'm going to put right there."
   Jessica didn't know how much more of this torture she could take.  She
was so close to climax, but he was dragging it out.  Each time she got
close he would pull back, playing her like an instrument until she was
whimpering and moaning and crying with each breath.
   "Beg me."
   "Please, fuck me.  Fuck me anyway you want me.  I need you.  I need you
so much.  Come inside me." She screamed and groaned and devolved until she
was nothing more than a cock hungry whore.
   He set a pounding rhythm that didn't need his fingers to do the job. 
She came hard, but not with a scream.  Her whole body tensed, shuddered. 
All was silent save for their labored breathing and the smack of their
bodies.
   "That's it," he panted, "Fuck yes."
   He kept pounding and she took it, first one, then another.  His breath
turned ragged and he swelled and spilled inside her pussy.
   They eased onto the couch just enough so that they wouldn't fall. 
Covered in sweat and sticky and panting.
   ***
   That night at Luke's house was not the beginning of something new, but
another blip in the continuation of their 'strangers with benefits'
relationship.
   The nights she was alone were certainly changed.  Luke sent her home
with a jar of lubricant, three dildos, the largest of which (not larger
than him) had a vibrating function, and a book.
   Jessica had homework.
   That first night alone she lay on the bed and worked lubricant over the
thin cylinder about the size of two of her fingers.  She lay on her side,
one leg tucked to her chest, and placed the cool tip at her anus.
   As the cool, slimy head slipped over the sensitive skin, Jessica closed
her eyes to imagine it was Luke rubbing the dildo in circles, building up
her anticipation.  Instead of pressing the dildo inside she bore down on
it, begging for it to enter her.
   She gasped and her eyes popped open.  That was too easy!  The tapered
shape slipped in, further and further.  Her ass opened to take the slim
object until she felt a little resistance.  It got thicker toward the
bottom, but not by much - enough that her ass noticed.
   Would Luke be proud of her right now?
   She could not call him, but he gave her a way to talk to him.  Keeping
the dildo inside, she cleaned her hand and tapped away on her cellphone
until she was recording a voice memo.
   "I've got the little one inside me, and it feels good." She reached back
to stroke it in and out.  "One day I hope this is you in its place.  I miss
you.  I wish you were here to see me.  I want you to enjoy me.  Anyway,
just wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you." She sent the memo to an
email address he set up just for her.
   What did he do that he couldn't take phone calls, that required flying
on a plane?  When he asked if she knew what he did, it seemed like a
threat, in the same way he wanted to know if she knew him already.
   Did those other women ever know?
   Were they ever sprawled over their beds late at night with a lubed toy
up their ass?  Jessica pumped the toy harder, ready to really feel it
inside her.  As excited as she was, she didn't want to mess anything up
back there, so she eased off, went slow and steady.
   Her pussy twitched and throbbed with pleasure.  If she touched her
clitoris, she'd go off like a rocket, but Jessica wanted to play a game
with herself.  No vaginal or clitoral stimulation while playing with her
ass.  She needed to know what it felt like, alone, if she could enjoy it so
much that she came from her ass being fucked.
   "Fuck me, Luke.  Fuck your whore." Jessica whispered.  She fucked
herself with the thin dildo until her arm tired.
   Night after night.  She cast the thin one aside after that first night.
The thicker one was a little slower to accommodate, but she managed it. 
Mostly, she just lay in bed with it inside her, clenching her sphincter
down on the unyielding plastic.
   She made a game of wedging the dildo to the wall and rocking her ass
back and forth, pushing it inside her then squeezing her ass muscles to
work it back out.  The slow nature of this game drove her crazy.  One night
she was sweating and trembling.  Her clitoris begged to be touched, just a
little, just one stroke.
   Jessica tightened her grip on the pillow and resisted.  How she wished
she could be tied down so she wouldn't have to worry about that.
   Her phone rang and Jessica about jumped one foot in the air.  She pulled
the dildo out, wiped her hands.
   Who in the hell?
   "Hello?"
   "Are you okay?"
   She pulled the phone away to check the number.  Anna?  What did she
want? "Yes.  Why?"
   "Why?  Because no one has heard from you.  You don't even answer my
texts anymore.  I thought maybe you found a man or something, or at least a
series of one-night stands.  Trish says you've been staying home.  Are you
sick?  Do you need anything?"
   "I'm fine." Jessica rolled the largest of the toys back and forth over
her leg.  Tomorrow, she was going to fuck it tomorrow.  It wasn't as thick
around as Luke, but if she could take it, he'd be no problem.
   Only, she had a problem with that.  Moving up to the next size took
patience, it was like being penetrated for the first time all over again.
It was crazy to think, but she didn't want that from a toy.
   "What did you say?" Jessica tried not to sound as irritated as she felt.
   "It's not just me who's worried.  Please come by.  We don't have to go
out.  I'm sorry if I caused you to have an experience that you weren't
happy about.  You're always talking about walking on the wild side, but you
don't have to do everything at once.  Let's play norms for a while. 
Coffee? How about a movie?"
   "When?" Jessica had forgotten about her friends, the few people in life
she could get along with.
   "It's early..."
   "I'm not going to be in a great mood."
   "I can hear that.  I'll pick you up.  Okay?  We'll grab a slice and see
what's playing.  How about that?"
   Jessica wiped the tear from her eye and scrambled for clothes.  "See you
in a bit."
   ***
   Jessica lay in bed staring blankly at her clock.  Anna seemed to think
she was depressed.  Not really, just ...  empty.
   Sadism took many forms, it seemed.
   She sniffed the air.  Something smelled like bacon.  Her windows were
closed.  Was someone having an early morning cookout next door?
   A plate clattered in her kitchen.
   She did not share her home with anyone.  She crawled out the bed, over
to her door way, tip-toed down the hallway.
   Luke stood to her counter, rolling ingredients into a tortilla.
   Jessica's heart was pounding for so many reasons.  Luke, here!  In her
home.  "How did you get in here?"
   "I opened the door and walked in."
   "I locked it."
   "That's good.  I unlocked it." He pointed to her counter stool.
   Rubbing her eyes, she sat.  This counted as being out of hand, right? 
She wanted to be happy, but logic dictated that she be furious.
   He set the plate down and sat down beside her.  "I have several days and
nights."
   "My place or yours?"
   "Yours.  Do you have work today?"
   "Yes, my shift starts in a few hours.  Should I bail?"
   He shook his head.  "I'll be here.  Is there anything you need done?"
   She grinned around her food.  Damn this was delicious.  "Done?  You mean
...  like?"
   "Anything."
   "Dishes, clothes.  Leaking faucet in the bathroom.  I need to mop the
floor.  Sorry, I don't keep my place as pristine as yours."
   "You actually live here.  I'll keep myself busy until you get back."
   "Did you get my message?"
   He grinned.  "All of them."
   Her last one explained why she never used the larger one, why she didn't
want to do away with all the pain.  Maybe she'd regret that, but Jessica
had been doing pretty well in the no regrets department.
   ***
   Luke never asked for monogamy, never talked about a relationship.  It
was one of those things that just seemed implied.  She was his whore, his
slut.  Worse still, the sex was always awesome, hot, intense.
   "How's that?" His breath was hot against her neck, his voice strained.
How hard was it for him to remain still when he trembled with the impulse
to fuck her?
   Jessica bore down on him, fighting her own impulse to forge ahead. 
"More."
   "Take it."
   She eased back.  No longer cold, unfeeling.  The discomfort was
profound, but not unbearable.  It was a special kind of pain, one she
wanted.  She wanted the imprint of a memory that would never fade.
   The curls of his pubic hair pressed to her ass.  His thighs warmed the
back of hers.  He kissed the back of her neck, massaged her breasts.  They
were both panting as if they'd run a mile.
   "Luke?"
   "Hmm?"
   "Why was it so important we do this?"
   "I'll answer you if you answer me honestly.  Completely."
   "I always do.  I promise."
   "Does it hurt?  Do you want me to stop?"
   "It hurts.  I don't want you to stop.  There's something I didn't tell
you.  Can I tell you before you answer me?"
   "Yeah, baby.  Let me hear it."
   "I never touched my pussy while using the toys.  I'd get so wet, my
clitoris would burn, but I didn't want to make myself orgasm.  I never did.
I want you.  The pain goes away.  I learned that.  It goes away and then
there's just this glow.  Take it away and make me glow.  Make me your
whore."
   "I'm going to come just from you talking like that.  Fuck."
   "Go on.  Come inside me.  We can do it again."
   "It's so important because I enjoy it, Jess.  I love the way a woman
surrenders, especially to me, despite all the vicious whispers, Jess. 
There's nothing I enjoy about causing a willing woman pain, not the bad
kind, anyway.  It's so important because I want everything I enjoy to be
with you." He tensed and bit her on the shoulder.  A high whimper and then
he was coming inside her.
   For Jessica, that would always be the moment when Luke submitted to her
and made anal sex one her favorite ways of making him into a pool of jello.
   ***
   Jessica woke with a warm body behind her and she barely stirred.  She
smelled him, the musk that he usually carried after a long day.
   A terrible cramp rose and she moaned, tensed.
   "Have you taken anything?" He mumbled.
   "No."
   "Do you have work today?"
   "No."
   "I'll make you something, but it'll knock you on your ass.  Go use the
bathroom." He pushed the covers back and rolled out the bed.
   He found her in the bathroom.  She'd pulled out the blood soaked tampon
and poured herself a bath.
   Luke perched on the edge of the tub and handed her a cup of tea.  "Drink
it all."
   She took the cup and he pulled out of his shirt, stepped out of his
pants and sat on the side of the tub with his feet in the water.  He soaped
up a cloth and bathed her like she was some kind of child.
   Not in much of a mood to resist, she let him.  "Am I going to pass out?"
   "Oh no, just going to check out.  You're used to it."
   She emptied the cup and stared at him.
   "Your eyes go all glassy and for a few seconds, you're not even here.  I
see you do it when you're on the phone, trying to do anything but what you
want.  It's how I know when you're telling me the truth or lying.  It's how
I know what you don't have to say."
   It was like a vice grip on her chest.  She didn't have the pain or the
discomfort, only a lightning rod of fear.
   "You love me, because you don't check out when you're with me, I know
when you're thinking about being with me.  When I try to do something that
seems normal with you, going out, seeing the outside of a bedroom." He
shook his head.  "You're like a fantasy girl, a real, living, breathing
fantasy."
   She blinked hot tears from her eyes.  "If I go where you're sending me,
there's going to be a lot of blood everywhere."
   He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.  "Most of it on my
cock, I hope."
   ***
   That insanity reel had been over three weeks ago.  Nearly a full
calendar month without him.  She went by his house often, sometimes sitting
in her car wondering if she should 'let herself in.'
   Three taps on her window.
   He didn't look like a police officer.
   She cracked her window enough to talk to him.
   "Who are you looking for?"
   "Why?" She frowned.
   "Do you know where he is?"
   She cranked her car and pulled away, peeled away and nearly spun out. 
Who in the hell was that?!  She should not have been there, shouldn't have
said anything.  She didn't!  She didn't say anything to that dude.
   She went straight to her house and locked the door.  She locked all the
locks and sat facing the door.
   Who was he?  Why was she so fucking afraid?
   She stared at the door knob, heart pounding.  She opened her phone
recording app.  "I went by your house.  I'm sorry.  I do that sometimes
when I miss you.  A guy, thin, balding, older guy.  He wanted to know if I
knew where you were.  I never answered, okay?  I drove away.  I don't know
what to do."
   She spent the rest of her night in the living room staring at her door,
waiting for a visitor that never arrived.
   Anxiety gave way to sleepiness.  She showered and went to bed.
   Day after day, the anxiety lessened.  She never received a reply to her
message.
   "Sorry.  I guess it was nothing.  Um, see you when ...  whenever."
   She saw the news in passing, but once she looked, she couldn't turn
away.
   "Police are looking for any information about this local man." Found
dead.  Murdered.  The police were asking for help, witnesses, any leads to
help close the 'gruesome' murder.
   She vomited for half an hour, pouring sweat and shaking until there was
nothing left in her stomach.  She hugged the toilet wondering what to do.
   Did she cause this?  Did he?
   Jessica didn't answer her phone calls.  She didn't go out.  She checked
over her shoulder constantly while at work, listened for every groan and
click while at home.  She was a witness.  She had complained about him. 
She had plenty leads to his gruesome death.
   What if it was just a coincidence?  Maybe she had nothing to do with it
at all.  She saw the man briefly at night.  It could have been someone that
looked like him.
   ***
   Jessica bolted upright in bed.  No nightmare or weird noises caused her
alarm, just a familiar presence.  Luke sat in a chair by her door, playing
with her phone.
   "I haven't heard from you in a while," he said.
   She never heard from him.  What did that matter?  What would she say? 
Sending a message asking if he killed that man seemed like a bad move.
   "You never spoke to the police?"
   Fuck.  "What would I tell them?" She dug her nails into her thigh under
the covers.  Did she do the right thing?
   He smirked and set her phone aside.  "Nothing.  I guess."
   Silence passed between them.  She didn't have anything to say, and he
didn't seem to have come to a decision on murdering her.  Silence was cool.
   She signaled him closer.
   He crawled on the bed pulled her into a hug.
   She whispered right in his ear.  "Was it because of me?"
   "Yes." He whispered in answer.  "But now I have to leave."
   He might as well have killed her.  Stabbed her with a skewer right into
her chest.  How her heart managed to keep beating was a miracle, with it
shattered and disintegrating, blood still circulated through her veins.
   "Could you leave all this behind?"
   Her head snapped up.
   "Right now?"
   Jessica snatched out of his arms and jumped out the bed.  She pulled
open her drawer and hopped into a pair of jeans, pulled a hoodie on.  "How
much time do I have to get a bag together?"
   "Put what you want to take on the bed.  I'll get your bag."
   Twenty minutes.  Zero thought.  Half sleep.  She locked her door behind
him and followed him downstairs to a car.
   The job, the bills, her friends.  She hadn't talked to her parents in
months, her friends in weeks.  No time for goodbyes now.
   Jessica never thought further than her insane crush on a man who
chronically fucked her to exhaustion at his convenience.
   She acted on impulse, on reflex.
   She fastened her seat belt and rubbed her sweaty palms on the legs of
her jeans.  What would happen to her now?
   What if he picked her up to get rid of her?  When the car rolled
forward, she closed her eyes.  She didn't want to see a gun, didn't want to
know their direction.
   As if he had to go through all that.  First night they met, he drugged
her and locked her in a room.
   Luke took her hand, the pad of his thumb brushed over the back.  The
soothing motion had its desired effect.  Her pulse calmed and stomach eased
its complaints.
   "Sorry," she muttered.
   "Don't be.  Go on and rest."
   The entirety of their relationship had been a secret.  Anna suspected
she was seeing someone, but Jessica never said a word about him, never even
asked if she knew him.  No one saw them together apart from the times he
appeared at a party.  He could have been anyone since they left a few
minutes after.  Other times they flirted and talked as if they were
strangers.
   But like he had said, she always started daydreaming about what they
could be doing, where they could be.
   She fell back asleep during the drive, to sour thoughts of a life turned
sideways, back when the counselor tried to explain impulsive control
disorder.  Her response had been to tell the counselor to fuck off and die.
   Thinking about things did not lead to doing them and she could prove it.
She had been proving it.  She indulged her mind but never her actions, and
that bored her, depressed and enraged her.
   Jessica woke cradled to his chest, her head on his shoulder, his arm
under her ass.  He opened the door and her bag along with his were lined
along the wall.  It was a tiny apartment, sparse, worse than her first
place - minus the cracks in the ceiling and thin walls, but still.
   Where were they?
   He set her down on the couch.  "I made it." Luke said into the phone at
his ear.  "I did, but that's not for you to worry about.  A few days.  What
about on your end?  No, keep the first name.  Um," he glanced to her and
then walked into another room in the house.
   She didn't bother trying to listen.  She was content to lay on the couch
in a state of half sleep.
   When he walked back into the living room, he was still on the phone.  "I
tried it your way.  Well, as long as we understand each other.  A week
would be appreciated, or that.  Yeah.  Later."
   As soon as the phone was down, she was up, peeling out of her clothes.
   "I've been driving all night."
   "Where's the bed?"
   He pointed and she pulled him along, undressed him and got in with him.
   "Tell me I'm staying with you."
   "If you stay with me, you're working with me.  Is that what you're
asking?"
   Work?  What in the hell did he do for work, other than disappear?  Was
killing that man part of his job?  Or just what he did to protect knowledge
of it?  "Yes, I'll even keep my legs closed if I have to."
   He put her in a head lock and tickled her sides.  "Now, I never said
anything about that."
   She tickled him back and they tumbled and laughed for a few minutes, but
Jessica calmed and sat up over him.  "I don't know what you do, how you do
it, but if helping you, if learning means I get to stay with you.  I will."
   "And that," he pulled her down and kissed her, wrapped his arms and legs
around her tight, "is why I love you."
   <->
Epilogue: My nick name for Jessica is "Courage the Crazy Brandy."
Written: October 2014
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
Impulsive