Quickie - "Yes" - by Redbud

[Subject to revision- hopefully, improvement. I'll post this on the newsgroup once I've let the story sit for a day or so. As always, forgive my failings - my wordiness. I wrote this in response to a reader who said she liked urgency and good/girl bad/girl eroticism.]  		

	Darren left all but one piece of luggage in the car. 
	He couldn't breath. Sex. He was thinking about her tits, her pussy and her muscular thighs, open, the soft lips parting between them, just the way she should be - his cock slipping between and inside. `She'. Just saying the world made him hard. He ached. He would be quick with her.
	He used his back to push open the door to her apartment. 
	He could hear Sage talking. Shit! Was a friend here? Darren's stomach hurt in only the way a 19 year old's stomach can hurt. He wanted to fuck. He had spent the whole drive home imagining her on her back, on her knees from behind, on the edge of a counter top (any counter top), on top of him, riding him, cumming, the smell of her arousal. Jesus. He adjusted himself.
	He followed her voice. She was in the kitchen on the headset phone. Thank god. She was wearing one of her summer skirt's, one piece and sleeveless. Her reddish blonde hair was pulled back in a single braid. She was making a salad, tearing lettuce into a bowl. He walked behind her and pressed himself against her. She gasped, almost screaming.
	"No," she said. "Darren's home... early... he surprised me..."
	They had talked on the phone. They had talked about missing each other. She was supposed to be naked. She was supposed to be waiting for him on the couch, naked and wet. When she turned to kiss him she answered his gaze with a defeated shrug and mouthed words: mother breaking up; father-in-law. 
	She held up her fingers - five minutes. She returned to her conversation; and her salad. He stayed behind her, looking at her shoulders, lightly holding her waist, studying her round ass and his groin pressed against it. She had a great ass. The posture of every woman is different, more so than men, or so he thought. Sage's posture was the kind he liked the most. The small of her back was more arched and curved than most women's. It thrust her ass backwards, her taut belly forward, as though she were always ready to be taken from behind, everywhere she walked or stood - especially in a bathing suit. He had fucked her before, quickly, in a pool, pressed behind her, her bikini bottom cinched to one side. She didn't even have to bend- as if nature had made the "perfect" woman, always ready and easily penetrated. 
	He lusted for her every day, and loved her.
	He missed her. He didn't want to wait. He pressed his sex against her ass and she subtly pressed back against him. He moved his hands up to her breasts. They were big and pushed against her dress. He could feel her nipples, hardening.
	Sage swatted his hands away and pushed him away with her ass.  Sage's mother had just stopped sobbing uncontrollably. She was managing to speak between hiccups. Darren felt huge and she wanted to feel him around her and his hugeness inside her - that beautiful cock curving mischievously upward, massaging her insides, robbing her of control. But he could wait, just five minutes.
	Darren groaned and walked stiffly to the kitchen table. He unzipped the one bag he brought inside. Sex toys. He had packed them in his carry-on bag just in case the airline lost everything else. He had been stupidly embarrassed when the X-Ray tech was a beautiful woman, but what she knew set off his fantasies. 
	She had asked him to open the bag. He refused. He accompanied her into a "securitized" room.  Turn them on, she said. He turned on a dildo. She gazed at it, then at him expectantly. 'Turn around,' he said. She did. 'Hands on the wall,' he said. He lowered the Dildo, lifted the grey skirt of her uniform, pushed aside her panties, and pushed the dildo up into her. She threw her head back and moaned. Her moved her panties back, the dildo held inside her. Her eyes grew wide. She gasped and gyrated her hip as he unbuttoned his pants. She fell to her knees when the first pre-orgasmic spasm snapped her hips. 'Turn around,' he said. She did, still on her knees. Her lips opened and he pushed his cock into her mouth. She held him by his hips. He held her head. Her hips gyrated around the dildo until she shook with orgasm. He spurted into her mouth, turning her moans to swallows.
	Anyway, that's how one of the fantasies went. It needed work.
	Sage glanced at him, then looked intently as he put the dildo on the table. Anal beads. Lubricant. Flavors. A glass butt plug. A ball gag. Hand cuffs. Silk rope and even a dildo harness, for her. He was going to fuck `her', and hard. He could see her breathing a little more erratically as she watched him, when she saw what he meant to do to her, and when she saw all the ways she would cum. She tried not to show her arousal as she listened and spoke with her mother but her nipples were hard. She was turned on. 
	He held up the butt plug.
	`No,' she mouthed.
	He held up the cuffs.
	`No!' she mouthed. She held up her fingers. Just four more minutes. 
	He walked toward her. She didn't move. She knew that look. She loved that look. It frightened her. It was male, urgent, and all about her.  Her femaleness. He needed to fuck her. Now.  Fuck, her mother was sobbing again.
	Darren wasn't fooled. Her mouth was open, aroused, and she was absent mindedly leaning with her elbows on the counter top, her back arched, her ass raised and readied. He moved slowly behind her. She watched him from the corner of her eye, but didn't move. He pushed up her dress, slowly, enjoying how the fabric slid upward over the smooth swell of her hips. She wasn't wearing panties.  He enjoyed slowly revealing her pussy, little by little. The first pussy he had seen in two weeks. His girlfriend's pussy. His lover's pussy. His pussy. He pushed up the dress until it gathered at the small of her back and inhaled the smell of her. The skin of her hips and ass was smooth and soft, all folding inward to the small, shaved, kiss of fur around the entry to her belly.
	He reached under her, up under her dress and cupped her heavy breasts. He could feel her stifling a groan as she answered her mother. Her nipples were hard. He squeezed her breasts, as if milking them, until just the nub of her nipples passed between the hard pinch of his fingers. Her back arched and her head rolled back. It had been so long since she had been touched. Fuck. The hard touch of a boy's fingers on her breasts, that had always been hidden for so long, was still new to her. Boys were still new to her. Their penises were still new to her. She was young. In love. He let go and backed away.
	He backed away and unzipped. His beautiful cock sprung out, arching upward from his body. He was going to fuck her! Her pussy tingled with emptiness. She wanted that fullness, still so new to her body. No! Jesus! Her mother was on the phone! Her mother!
	Darren watched her suddenly dart from the kitchen. She was running in that girlish way that emphasized her curves, her hips and sex. He watched her like a drunk, for an instant, before he bolted after her. He couldn't wait another four minutes. That ass, that pussy, and belly belonged to him. His  arm was around her waist before she could reach the bedroom door, close it, and lock it. His other hand was pushing between her shoulder blades, bending her forward, bending her over, pushing her down to her knees.  Right here?
	"Yes..." she breathed.
	`Are you ok?' -  her mother had asked.
	Sage's stomach felt light. Not here. Not on the floor! Not right now! She tried to crawl forward but he pulled her back by her hips - her flaring hips that made it so easy for a man to hold her, to pull her back, to mount her. She felt him push his hard arousal against her sex. Only her flimsy dress was between him and her soft opening. She reached behind her to push him away even as she opened her legs. The cuff he had been holding clicked closed around her wrist. No! He pulled her other hand behind her and the other wrist was imprisoned. She was helpless! She had her headset phone on! Fuck! And only then did she realize she couldn't hang up!
	The phone conversation continued.
	Darren grabbed her long braid and pulled her head up. She could see herself in the mirror on the far wall of the bedroom. Her large breasts were hanging down, nipples hard and grazing the carpet, her hands locked behind her back. Darren was behind her, gazing back at her, pushing up her skirt. She knew that look. How many boys had looked at her like that - sometimes complete strangers, older men, teenaged boys. And she was on her knees now, bent over, just the way every one of them had imagined her. She needed to stop...
	"Uh... Yes!" she answered her mother as she felt the familiar, engorged roundness of her boyfriend stretch open the entry to her belly - impatiently, demanding. Her eyes rolled. Fuck! He was big! Her mother was still talking to her! And she... oh... he was filling her, pushing into her, watching her expression as he filled her. Uh! Her hands twisted ineffectually in her cuffs as the penis pushed into and filled the deep entry to her belly. Uh! All the way! - The feeling! - A another person inside her body! - The smooth, warm penetration of his cock, shaping her insides around itself, filling her, reminding her of all the time she had been empty.
	He didn't move. He held himself inside her- simply enjoying her - the most enjoyable sensation a man will ever have- a woman's warm, wet depths gripping his cock. He looks down at his girlfriend's narrow waist, flaring hips, her ass pressed tightly against his pelvis. He reaches under her and feels her taut, flat belly, knowing the full length of his penis is inside it. He moves slightly, exhaling at the silky feel of her depths, perfectly kissing and massaging the bulb of his cock as he withdraws - perfectly made for this, for his cock, for him.
	"Yes!" she says to her mother, her `yes' a little too throaty - -a `Yes' a little too penetrated and filled with cock.
	He was beginning to fuck her. He was fucking... oh... hard! Fast! She was seeing something she had never seen before. She was really seeing a young woman being fucked, on her knees, her hands bound behind her back. She was seeing herself in the mirror.
	"Yes! she stuttered, as she answered another of her mother's questions.
	The man behind the young woman had pushed her dress completely forward. Her large breasts bumped the carpet as he fucked her. She was watching a porno flick, feeling everything the woman felt - the carpet roughly licking her nipples, making her sex clamp down on the cock moving impatiently in and out of her. The woman's expression was open mouthed, surprised, penetrated. She regretted not having masturbated.  Please... she mouthed. Don't... don't make me cum! She gazed pleadingly at her boyfriend but he returned her gaze, oblivious, intent on his own pleasure. He had her. She was helpless. What he wanted wouldn't wait.
	"Ye..." she stuttered. "Yes..."
	`Don't ever put yourself in a position you can't get out of...' her mother warned.
	She opened her legs as if to make room for his size. Her knees felt hot against the carpet. His mouth was open with the sheer pleasure of her, sometimes looking at her expression, sometimes looking at her body. He was fucking her with masculine urgency, greed, pleasure and impatience. Her breath shuddered with each thrust and her wetness was running down her thighs. Maybe she had always fantasized about being wanted like this, used like this and taken by a man, just like this. He was crazed by her; and she loved him for it. She loved the way he needed her - every part of her, his need to be inside her, to see her naked, to fuck her and cum in her. She loved his desire - the urgency of it. And it was still new to her - being fucked by a man. She felt like she was barely out of her adolescence before she was a woman - grownup, on her knees, being fucked from behind. She barely contained a groan as he drove his cock deeply into her and he held himself there. 
	"Yes!" she answered, almost moaning.
	`Don't let a man control your life,' her mother had just warned her, sobbing.
	Don't make me cum! But she was going to cum. Her young body was reacting exactly the way it was designed to - racing toward its own fruition.  She had lost control. She was going to cum - the orgasm was being pushed into her belly with every thrust of his cock.
	Then he pulled out of her and stood. She almost cried out when she felt his warmth leave the inside of her body. She gazed up at him, pleading. Just give her one more minute. Phone? Sex? Which? But he wasn't meeting her gaze. He was enjoying the site of this woman, his girlfriend and lover,  on her knees, hands behind her back, bent forward, finally, all but naked, her sex wet, swollen and open, ready to be soaked and filled with his juice. He ran has hand back and forth on his cock. This is what he had wanted for two weeks. This.
	He knelt behind her, his cock in one hand, ready to finish what he stared. Sage never felt so much like a woman - a sexual woman - made for pleasure, receptive, desirable. Her mother was almost... uhn... he was inside her again.
	"Yes!" she said.
	`Next week?' her mother asked her.
	"Yes," she said again, jolted by the thrusts from behind. "Yes, I'll come."
	He pulled her head back by her braid. She watched the woman in the mirror. Maybe what surprised her most is that she looked no different from any other woman she ever seen, being fucked, being taken. Her hips flared upward behind her narrow waist, opened to the man behind her. Her heavy breasts swung under her as she was mated - promising, someday,  milk and nourishment. Her smooth, flat belly was pliant and complaint, full of a man's cock, promising to, someday, swell with his effluence. Her mouth was open in a silent cry, her brows knitted with the promised agony of her surrender. She looked no different. She was like all the women that had come before her and all that would come `from' her. But she looked a little different. She was wearing a headset phone and still had her heavy glasses on, and yet her she was, naked, on her knees, her sex opened wide and penetrated from behind, in a position as old and primal as male and female.
	And her boyfriend looked no different from any of the men in the flicks she had watched, except that this was the man she loved. His chest was broad, his stomach was smooth and muscular, his rhythm assured and confident, masculine. His thrusts were measured, deep. He pulled back until her lips wetly closed at the tip of him, then he opened them, thrusting forward until her lips were stretched around the base of him, and the tip of him pressed deeply against her womb. They were their bodies.
        'Next week?' her mother asked.
	"Yes!" she gasped. "Mom, I'm going to come!"
	Please don't! Ple... please don't! But she did. She watched, fascinated, as the woman in the mirror twisted her hands in the cuff, as her spine arched with each contraction, lifting her sex upward like a cup shamelessly waiting to be filled. Uh... she wanted to grunt, gasp... uhn... whimper, scream. She felt it all. Each of the woman's contractions robbed her breath, made her sex clamp down on the cock filling it, made her heavy breasts bounce under her, made her eyes heavy as though she had been drugged, stretched her mouth into the wide open cry of an O - just like every woman she had ever seen - orgasming on a man's cock. Her mother was asking her a question, waiting, but she couldn't answer. She couldn't... she couldn't breath. Her daughter was having an orgasm.
	`You know you're still my little girl,' her mother said again.
	"Yes..." she finally answered, spreading her knees and arching as she felt her lover's fluids spurt inside her from behind, again, again, again, helpless to stop him. She could almost feel her belly being filled, warm with his juices. Finally, after two weeks of emptiness, she would be carrying her lover's desire inside her. It would seep out of her at night, when she was sleeping, during the day when she worked, always reminding her of his lust, of that part of her that he needed again and again. She loved the feeling.
	`You'll stand on your own two feet,' her mother said, `and promise to be good?'
	"Yes..." Sage breathed, her thighs apart and wet.
	Darren groaned as a last contraction spurted inside her. He hadn't masturbated in a week. His cum was already dripping out of her, collecting at the meeting of her lips and dripping from her clit. He leaned back. Sage watched, her breathing deep, her hands still bound behind her. He leaned forward and put the clear, glass butt plug in front of her, just below her mouth. He was still hard, his hand moved back and forth over his glistening cock. He was still enjoying her beauty, the site of her nakedness and womanly shape. The dusty smell of the carpet was mixing with their own pungent smells, dripping from both of them.
	`Promise?' her mother asked again.
	Uh! He was inside her again, filling her, fucking her again.
	"Yes..."
	`You'll be good?'
	"Yes!" she said. 'I'll be good' - and she lowered her mouth over the butt plug, getting it wet - getting it ready.