She stood there. She was naked except for panties and her high heels. Anyone looking could tell by the look on her face she was unsure how she ended up in this situation. She blushed bright red and started to cover her chest.
Chevy smiled at her, he’d planned and prepared for this all month, but had wanted to find someone longer.
She was a realtor subagent, working for a guy for almost no money. She had come to the house to show it to him. She had driven him in her car from the parking lot of her office. No one else had seen him. Chevy had called her directly, specifically, used a false name, said he was an unspecified ‘friend of a friend.’ Knew she could “use the commission.” She’d been eager, excited, he’d told her he wanted a big house, the sort that her boss had been unable to move in the recent economy. In person, she’d been flirtatious, smiling, and overeager to please, trying the hard-sell of this the whole way in the parking lot. She saw his expensive suit, his expensive watch, and shoes, and decided he’d looked the part. Believed him when he mentioned paying property cash, no mortgage needed. There had been a fancy car in the parking lot, she’d assumed it was his.
Chevy had selected her carefully. For this sort of thing research pays off. He wasn’t some one night and done pick-up artist. He liked to have women who were his. He may not be a one-woman man, but he told himself he’d never been the bad-guy, just preferred to control his collection.
He’d heard of her as a possibility when he’d bumped into one of her coworkers, a drunken asshole, had talked shit about her, and mentioned she had a poor sales record, debts, and Chevy had begun looking into her.
He had decided she would be perfect. Margaret, called Maggy in childhood, Meg those close to her as an adult. He had wondered about that, not understanding why a young woman would want to be called Meg. She was an Isolated and lonely woman. She had no real family, only a few friends but not close, she’d lost those in the divorce to her wealthy husband along with her home. The husband had been important because he’d been a bastard.
Everyone knew he’d been been verbally abusive, and suspected he was rough with her. He’d love to have known for sure, it would change his approach. She didn’t really date these days which suggested it had been bad. According to a friend’s post online the fucker had killed her cat. Chevy had always liked cats. He had really disliked her Ex after hearing that. He did know from a database that they’d had dueling restraining orders.
The Ex had a good lawyer, she’d had a fool. Everything in her behavior, and his research, said she was a broken and indecisive but not stupid woman. She’d simply always been reliant on other people. Tried to be a model for a predatory ‘agent’, and left college to marry the asshole as his third in a string of younger wives. She was attractive but just aging out of what he must have thought were her “beauty years”. And now just over thirty and screwed by her ex-husband in the recent divorce she was probably mostly just insecure. He’d considered, he was probably doing her a favor. She’d had less than a year as a realtor, ink fresh on the license.
If the bastard hadn’t messed her up enough during the marriage, he had made it worse when he the younger model got pregnant immediately. That was the lever he’d used, he’d talked about his desire to marry, have kids, and thus the interest in the big house. Once upon a time she’d had hopes of having a family, you could tell by her online presence. But when they talked in the car, she’d seemed convinced she’d never have it, talked like a woman ten or twenty years older than her real age. He’d used simple manipulation to suggest interest. He was reasonably handsome, and she believed he was richer than he was. That was the power of a good watch and thousand dollar shoes. She might not have believed one one-thousand-dollar suit, but she had looked at the shoes, well taken care of but not new, when he commented about having multiple watches while wearing this one, he saw her eyes. She’d been interested. The watch “cost” more than her car. It was for that perception he’d invested in it. A really good fake but still it sold the part.
Chevy had begun to work on her in the car and continued in the house, simple tricks, complex word associations, repetitions, “you’re lonely, I’m lonely”, fast patter and break her expected scripts, using language games to get her to say things she wouldn’t normally. He made jokes and then took her jokes seriously, ramping up the conversation slowly. She had begun to act and talk about things that were personal because they seemed the thing to say and do in the conversation. He’d been offering her strange choices but implying he’d buy the house, not quite saying she’d need to answer. He let her consider herself as guiding the conversation throughout the tour. He’d picked up her comments and several times she’d been embarrassed that she had led the conversation to something sexual or personal. And she had been embarrassed when she said all she wanted was to catch a nice guy. He had started out asking “why a real estate agent” and all she’d meant to answer was it was what divorced women did on TV. He’d commented on her being good because she was pretty and somehow the course of the conversation had wandered in a minute, until he had said “ahh so I won’t be surprised when you try to seduce me,” and she’d felt she couldn’t take it back and simply laughed. She wasn’t sure
He wasn’t an expert hypnotist or conman, but he had learned tricks, studied, and practiced what seemed to work. She’d been off guard the whole time. They’d kept talking throughout the whole house, she liked the attention and wanted the commission, she couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so interested in her. He kept saying nice things, they seemed to have a lot in common, he said he thought she should be a model, she could have beautiful children, he liked children, she liked children, and why had she agreed when they’d said the best part was trying to make children. There had been smiles, and she knew they were both thinking about sex, she’d blushed and been a little excited, but she’d been trying to show him an upstairs bedroom.
She’d pointed out and sat on the bench in the bay window, and he said she deserved to be on a pedestal, she had felt her heart pound. She hadn’t had a response.
He talked so fast, and she’d tried to keep up. She told herself, she was aggressively trying to do things he suggested because the commission was on the line, but somehow the boundary line kept moving. Normally she’d only flirt a little but she just kept going. Each time, he had made it seem like she was suggesting the new line. He’d mentioned being hungry, she’d mention having skipped breakfast, and somehow, they ended up talking about oral sex. Then she had agreed to a date. She’d been the one to first make the innuendo explicit, and she he smiled at it. She’d said yes when he had said she sounded like she wanted to get some lunch soon. She’d been grateful he’d gone back to talking about food, and only later did she realize she he might have thought that was a date offer? That was how it went the whole time. She’d made a comment, he’d said he liked her dress, she appreciated it, and made a comment about his suit, which led him to saying she was much less covered up. She’d agreed, and somehow ended up saying some of her outfits felt like being naked when men looked at him. The conversation had progressed, she’d somehow been asked and answered she didn’t have a bra on. Then when the conversation looked like it would turn to normal, he’d basically said that the sexiest thing in the world would be a naked woman in the kitchen, she laughed and he said he’d marry the woman who was naked in a kitchen, and somehow, she’d just ended up taking her dress off.
So there she was. Standing in an empty kitchen in Just her panties and her high heels.
She felt off balance. She was waiting for him to say anything, and she didn’t want to admit this was a mistake, even though she knew it was. Somehow this was the step towards the better future. She wasn’t sure how this had happened, but she was usually so passive, and he’d said she should take a chance like twenty times. She’d admitted she was afraid, lonely, and he’d pointed out that if she saw someone who seemed interesting she should leap out and get them. She didn’t agree, but it was there in her head. She was basically naked and asking herself whether he was what she wanted.
He’d actually been wondering if he oversold the lines. He’d had to turn away from her when he said she was the sort of woman any sane man would hold onto, said he wished him being rich was enough, that him being boring and kind wasn’t the sort of thing a beautiful woman like her would want. He’d looked down and away from her, pretending he was ashamed when he said the naked woman in the kitchen line, he’d had trouble keeping his face serious, even after practicing it.
Now he was smiling.
The entire time she had been so nervous it had been easy twisting her words, and intentionally misreading, offering encouragement. He felt powerful and she’d seen his erection, thinking it was just her low cut top, her pretty face. He’d been enjoying the game. He just kept complimenting her but also suggesting that things could change if only she did something that seemed crazy to her. The whole time he thought she might not be fully going along with it. She had been so off balance when they did the tour that she messed up simple details of the sales pitch. He ignored the errors. He could see her losing confidence, encouraged it, each time she spoke she felt it came out wrong, except when she flirted.
Each time he spoke he was less interested in the house, but willing to learn more about her. By the time they’d finished the tour and stood in the kitchen, she was practically in tears.
He’d said several times that the sale of this house wasn’t the end of the world for her. He’d known she hadn’t had any other sales pending, no commissions and couldn’t pay rent. He kept reminding her, this wasn’t a big deal, this was just like a date. What’s the worst that happens? You go home alone? What’s the worst that happens? Someone sees you without your clothes on? What’s the worst that can happen? The reality is there were other women, other men, other houses. That had been what did it. Showing interest in her, and minimizing interest in the house. She’d initiated touching, he’d made it clear he enjoyed it but as they’d talked he’d made it sound like he knew she wasn’t interested. She touched his arm and she laughed at his joke, he’d said “a woman like you is too good for him.” She’d put a hand on his shoulder and he’d said “never let anyone tell you know”, and each time he touched her very chastely, didn’t push it.
He’d played every trick in the book to enoucrage her to think that he would sleep with her and marry her if she just threw herself at him. He’d kept her thinking about problems in her life, kept her off balance, and a tiny part of him had felt bad for gaslighting her. But that part lost out to his desire.
The kitchen was cool, and she smiled at him across the Italian marble tiles. But the smile was clearly fake, her eyes were all nervousness, and her hands fidgeted, twitched at her sides for the long moment that he said nothing, did nothing, before they came up to cover her breasts.
Neither of them said anything for another long moment, before he said, “Beautiful.” And he smiled and took a step forward.
She saw him react positively, she saw desire in his eyes, and heard him say she was beautiful, and the nervousness finally subsided. She finally was sure. She had wanted him, she must have, she took her dress off. She had gone after what she wanted. She wasn’t going to let this one abandon her, not when she could give him what he wanted.
He walked to her and kissed her passionately. They embraced.
The house was empty, no furniture at all. An expensive looking cardboard refrigerator mockup and lawn maintenance was all the boss had paid for. It was too big and was expected to be on the market and unoccupied long enough that dressing it with furniture wasn’t worth the expense. There had been no beds upstairs which he’d been disappointed by. He wondered if she’d fuck him on the floor, and kissed her again, said, “you’re perfect.”
She pressed herself against him and as they made out, she whispered. He thought it was mostly to herself, “too good to be true”, “please,” and “god.” He stopped talking, his plan had worked, he’d bed her, and she’d be easy to string along, to add to his rotation of women he’d sleep with, and she’d be grateful of the hope even after he didn’t buy the house.
She wrapped a leg around his, and pressed harder against him, and he could feel warmth from her sex through the thin fabric of his suit pants. He pressed harder against her, and she could feel him, rigid through the layers of clothing, felt his breathing quicken, knew he was getting into it, and she was so excited. She hadn’t been intimate in a while, but she knew that she was good in bed. She might have screwed up her life, but she was going to be good.
They stood there making out, his hands on her back, he liked the weight of her leaning on him slightly, and the urgency with which her body responded. She liked his lips, he was a good kisser, and she had forgotten she missed that, nearly ten years married, and she hadn’t made out like this in most of them. His tongue kept grazing hers, and he felt good.
They stayed there kissing for a long time, he felt her body against his moving, and he stayed hard against her, possessive in his grasp of her.
He slid his hands to her ass, and she gasped slightly as he squeezed hard. Then he lifted her. She was thin, and he was strong. He needed to look desirable, keep in shape if he wanted to get the hot women. He knew he’d impress them if he was showed his strength and enthusiasm.
As he lifted her, she wrapped her other leg around him. Now the tanned skin slid up and was around his waist. He smiled as she helped him. His hands on her ass, he couldn’t see well as they continued to kiss. She had her eyes closed and he gently bit her lip, but he could see well enough. Standing up they were nearly the same height, she was slightly taller in the heels, but holding her, waist levels even so his hardon could grind between her legs, he had to bend his neck down to kiss her.
She managed to gasp out as they kissed, “family room.”
She was holding him tightly and moving her hips as they pressed passionately against each other, and he managed to carry her around to the far side of the kitchen, the family room had carpeting, he thought it would be better than the hard tiles for her back. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for thinking of her comfort. She wondered for just a moment if she should say something.
He stopped kissing her as he came down to his knees on the thick carpet in the family room. She opened her eyes. She saw him smiling and the large glass doors let the early afternoon light stream in. being carried and laid back felt suddenly felt strange, and as she felt him lean and lay her back on the carpet, she’d made a little involuntary noise of protest. But he simply leaned down and kissed her. She tried to pull him, her arms still around him into a kiss.
He looked at her laying there, her hair was dark, black, or as close to it as to not matter any difference, haloed around her pretty face. He stared for a moment, her dark eyes, and he tried to remember if he’d heard in his research what her ethnicity was. She had pale skin that showed her flushed with the excitement, and she was wearing a little too much makeup, her lipstick was smeared. He smiled wider, he’d pointed it out the makeup, said she didn’t need it. Her lips were full, and they were open, he ran a finger along them and she lifted her head enough to take it into her mouth. Even laying flat he liked her breasts, small but standing up firm and away from her chest, the nipples were dark, and her areolas small, when she’d taken her dress off he’d been pleasantly surprised. He’d been optimistic about her body, but he tried to keep his expectations reasonable. He looked down on her feeling proud of himself and shifted his knees wider, pressing her legs out. He could see the faint impression of her public hair through the thin fabric of the panties. But otherwise, she had perfect skin despite being over thirty. He thought she looked beautiful, the small lines around her eyes and the little things that had stood out to him made him smile wider, as she smiled up at him. He repeated “beautiful.”
She squeezed his arms, tried again to pull him down to her, but he took his hand away from her face. Shrugged his shoulders back, arms now on either side of her, he began to take off his jacket.
She felt it going in nand released her hands from his arms. Instead, she clawed at his shirt to pull it up. When it was off, she looked at him. Flat stomach, broad chest, not much definition but muscles under flesh that looked good. Somehow not what she had expected somehow. Maybe it was because he was rich and older, and her ex-husband had let himself go. You don’t need muscles when you have money. He smiled down at her, and she liked his looks, no hard lines, but his arms had felt strong. She’d felt the strength than she’d expected. His face was clean shaved and polished, but he had a dense body hair across his chest, and a sharp line dark against his pale belly leading into his pants. She placed her hands on his chest and ran one hand, one fingertip down, feeling his bellybutton and running it lightly to the line of his pants ending against his belt.
When he felt her move a hand to his belt, run her fingernail against his belly he shuddered, and made a noise from his throat halfway between a moan and a growl.
She enjoyed that noise, felt herself respond and pulled the other hand down to undo the buckle.
He let her struggle with his belt and reached out and began to touch her breasts. She’d been ready for him to be hard, rough, as his hands moved quickly towards them, but they barely touched. He stopped and his fingers rested featherlight as he gently gathered his fingers across her skin. He cupped her, and she pulled hard to get the belt out of the way, feeling the light teasing pressure of his palm moving back and forth across her nipples. His hands were smooth, and the pressure increased very gradually as he moved his hands, then he slipped her nipples between his fingers, and it was her turn to make an appreciative noise. Softer and fading, she lifted her chest up so her breasts met his hands harder.
She’d gotten the belt off and she felt for the fly of his underwear, she didn’t want to wait any longer, she felt him hard inside and smiled as she managed to get her hand inside and touched him.
This time he made a grunting noise that was more aggressive, and it excited her, the initial grunt turned into a lingering sort of noise. Raspy and harsh, and he leaned down and kissed her hard as she stroked him gently inside his boxers. She felt herself breathing harder and knew she was wet enough to take him. She’d been thinking about sex with him for an hour now, first unwillingly, and his attention had been flattering.
He was hard and hot in her palm. He felt large. Certainly, larger than her ex-husband, but that wasn’t one of the attributes which she’d thought she loved about him. She took him out through the fly, and his growl turned into a low moan as she gripped him tighter. She enjoyed the hold on him, having him literally in her grasp, and feeling the slight throb as he responded to the movement of her hand.
He found her nipples hypnotic, they had stuck out more as he played with them, and he felt her body move as he did, she’d opened her mouth and made a little noise, but as he kept touching them she had closed her eyes and didn’t stay still, her body moved slightly in response, and the feeling of having her squirm from those light touches was almost as good as the exultation of her grabbing ahold of his cock and playing with it. She was being firm, not as gentle as he was used to, but she wasn’t really giving him a hand job, just holding him, and he found himself practically growling as he waited, focused on the feeling.
She took her other hand, without releasing him, still gripping him, and pulled the panties aside, she felt them wet with her excitement. The kissing and that long moment being carried, feeling him hard in his pants against her. She also felt that relief again, from when he saw her topless, when she didn’t know if he wanted her or had been teasing. She’d decided to go for it, and that felt good. Knowing what she wanted after that time, and she wanted him.
She was breathy, breathing hard and her voice made him twitch in her hand, made his hips work as he listened to her. She was quiet but the house was silent except for their breathing.
“I want you” she repeated her thought aloud, and said, “please” and for one moment he thought he would really love her. He looked at her need and saw other feelings in her face, the desire an felt her heat radiating off her body as she said “please” again, holding her panties aside.
He had opened his mouth, trying to form a thought, but all that came was his own desire and he continued to make noises in his throat as she held him, pulled gently, guided him to her.
“I want you” she said, she was moving him so slowly, and he found he didn’t want to thrust, even though she asked, she wanted him to.
They both gasped, she brought the hard tip of him, bluntly down against her, he felt her skin and the hair. It was so wet, and she was so warm, and he closed his eyes.
She saw his eyes close, the look of concentration on his face, the smile, and she smiled also as she drew him up and down getting her moisture onto him, she twitched as she brought him across her clit, and moved back again feeling the pleasant rush of sensation.
His body was rigid, and he had that smile, mouth hanging open, she pressed him forwards slightly more and enjoyed the feeling of him at the entrance to her. Just barely touching.
He had intended to get a condom out, but she’d surprised him when she took him out. Usually, he’d have to progress things when he was with a woman. He felt her brush him against her clit and sucked in air, tensed up his muscles. God, he thought, she felt good.
Then he was inside her, just a little, teasing both, and she wasn’t sure that was her intention. She was still holding him, reticent to take her hand away, and only the tip of him was thick inside her, stretching her lips apart. She was right, she was wet enough to be ready.
Now that he was in her, she released her hand, took both hands away from his sex, and brought them up to his face. She tried to pull him down on top of her.
He knelt between her legs, they were hooked behind him, pressing forward slightly, urging, and he felt the tiny movements of her body through his penis, just inside her, tight and warm and he could barely hold a thought. It was good, she’d kept him slow, teasing, and his eyes were shut when she took her had away. He felt her put her hands to his face, one to his cheek, the fingertips slightly wet with her own moisture. He shivered slightly as she pulled his face down to kiss her.
And the moment of hesitation ended, she said “please” again, plaintive, whispering.
His body, with or without real thought, felt him lean to kiss her and came down hard on top of her, into her, and he pressed himself deep, making another noise as their lips met.
He slid his arms under her, around her, and there was no subtlety, one hand holding her elbow to the floor, some of his weight on her chest, the breasts which fascinated him crushed between them with her arms. His other under her back hand to the nape of her neck, fingers in her hair, and pulling her towards him with nowhere to go as they kissed.
His hips did the work. Hers were simply taut, her legs hard against him, trying to keep him insider her now that he was there. He felt them resist as he pulled himself and thrust, he felt her hands still pulling him towards her even as his tongue played with hers.
She ground her lips against him, he felt good inside her, she’d been so ready and then she had teased herself with him and the weight of him felt so good. She bit at his lip, this is what she’d wanted. And she wasn’t letting him go.
They lay there, wrapped around each other, kissing, his hips pistoning hard but slowly, her resisting each withdrawal and then pressing with him. He found his fingers knotting, pulling her hair, and scratched and clawed her nails against his chest with her arms still trapped between them.
He felt her body tensing slightly, wondered if she would cum so soon, and didn’t change his rhythm. She could feel him pressing harder with eagerness, but he’d settled into a rhythm, her legs pulling him, keeping him against her, she had closed her eyes and could feel the tug of his hand in her hair. There was a rasping breath that came out between their kisses.
She felt his teeth gently biting her lip and moaned harder. She didn’t feel like time was passing, just sensation, and it was surprising to her how good it was, how close she felt. The sensation radiating, her stomach knotting and tensing, her legs tensing and holding him in her harder forcing him to press harder, resisting her pressure more, the rhythm staying steady but the force increasing. He was grinding against her, pressing on her clit as he fucked her. She felt a tiny bit of pain as she was hit and pressed into the floor, the sting of her hair being pulled, and it helped, it made the swelling pleasure.
She didn’t say anything, she listened to him breathing hard, and started to hold her breath, she just wanted to be in the feelings. She was getting close.
He thought she felt amazing, better than he could have expected, almost better than he wanted. The thought occurred to him, she felt too good, he was trying not to come. It had started when she didn’t show any resistance, no worry, the moment they started kissing it was like she’d been all his. She’d suggested the carpet quickly, ready to be fucked. The moment he’d set her down on the floor she’d been ready, stretching herself around him. Her urging and her body under him, her arms around him, the passionate way she responded. He was smiling to himself, his eyes were open, and he could see her eyes shut, his whole view, her face, the tightened brow, he thought she was cute, her face getting scrunched up ass she got more excited. It hadn’t been long enough, she was clearly getting close, but he wanted to see her cum, to hear her. He realized he was too excited but once she came, he’d get her to finish him in her mouth. He’d stayed attentive to her, following her cues. But he was so excited, he’d been wanting this since he decided on her. And she was so much better than he’d expected. He tried to keep his wit. He’d been the one to initiate, he told himself, and he’d decide how to finish. He smiled wider, he’d gotten to fuck her without a condom, that’s what was so special. Her body tightening. She stopped kissing him. He could hear her breathing interrupted, holding her breath then gasping. Her mouth hanging open, her breath stopping again. She tightened up around him, rigid and soft and he kept fucking her. He smiled; she was beautiful.
She felt it rising, her body tightening, her pleasure hitting a peak. She shivered and clenched around him, enjoyed the feeling of him inside her as the orgasm pulsed through her. She finally took a breath as she struggled underneath him, he hadn’t stopped, and it was overwhelming.
She still had her eyes shut as he watched her face, mouth hanging open she finally gasped and moaned, he felt her around him, spasming, tightening, and she inhaled through a tight throat making a noise, then exhaled moaning, almost yelling, she stopped pressing him into her. He kept going, he knew she’d be sensitive as the orgasm crested, and liked the noises she was making.
He was still going, the sensation sharps each time he ground against her clit and she was twitching, her hands which had been scratching softly against his chest tensed even as the rest of her started to relax, she was breathing hard, making panting moaning noises, almost sounded like she was in pain. He wanted to see how long she could go, continuing her orgasm, she kept twitching, spasming, her hips thrusting slightly, even as her hands began to push slightly against his chest.
She wasn’t, couldn’t think, she was overwhelmed. She didn’t remember when she’d cum this hard, she opened her eyes, but they were blurry, and she was pushing at him, she tried to say something and only made noises.
He was smiling and ready to stop. He felt her pushing with her hands, her body suddenly squirming, her hips wiggling as he sped up thrusting into her. She suddenly made a sort of twitch and he realized she was beginning to cum again. He sped up even more, felt his arms shake, he could keep going. After all that time staying steady, her legs had relaxed stopped pressing him, and he sped up, to play with her as she shook. As she moaned louder, and her face stayed scrunched up even more. She was making noises but not words, and then her mouth shut, teeth gritted, and she was hissing.
The silence led into her second wave of orgasm, and she suddenly had a spasm, her hips and belly squeezing, and more than the first time she clamped down on him, she wailed out a note from her chest, and he said “fuck.”
She was amazed when he didn’t stop, she’d been so sensitive she was almost annoyed, and then it started to work for her, as he started fucking her faster, he hit a different rhythm, a different spot and her hips worked to meet that new path. She found it hard to breath.
She was so wet, and the second part, the second orgasm, she clamped down on him, squirted a little and he decided he could let her finish. He was very close to cuming himself, but the sight of her and the sound of that moan, that wail. He’d keep going another minute.
And he did, he stayed at it, fucking her hard and fast as she stayed clenched around him, he was barely pulling out, mostly just moving in her, against her, their bodies tight together and him heavy on top of her.
She finally went limp. Her hands still between them. For a moment she didn’t move, he kept fucking her, then he realized she was gasping, still, and silent. He stopped, leaned down and kissed her.
The sudden stillness of him seemed to surprise her. She opened her eyes. She put her arms around him and kissed him back. He pulled him to her. He was bent, still inside her, but on his knees, he was pulled part way out of her. They were tight together from the chest and they were breathing hard.
She looked at his face, saw him smile, she said something, and he couldn’t understand her. She was breathing hard. Her legs came up around him. Her arms tightened,
Before he could ask or say something, she started fucking him, he smiled for a moment, and she said it again, “please.”
He smiled for a moment, and said, “finish me in your mouth.” Tried to pull back out of her, away from her.
She tensed, tightened her legs, and pressed him into her, she fucked him harder, and repeated “pleases.” She kept going, he felt her breathing hard, tightening herself, saw her smile, repeating “please” but no longer plaintive, almost demanding. Her face wasn’t scrunched in orgasm, wasn’t slack, she was smiling, her eyes closed, and again more forcefully “please!”
He started to gently push himself up off her with the arm on the carpet next to her. He still had a hand in her hair. She was holding on, surprisingly strong, and she didn’t release him, just repeated “please.”
He said, “I’m not wearing a condom, let me cum on you.”
She was gasping, working hard, raising her hips up and down, slamming into him as hard or harder than he’d fucked her. She tightened her arms and pumped herself with her legs, she gasped out “cum in me.”
He nearly came from hearing her say that. He pulled on her hair, pushed himself harder up off the carpet, and she clung on, still working her hips, but hanging off him, he pulled harder on her hair, and she made a sharper noise of pain but didn’t stop.
They stayed there, he was rigid, unmoving, she was mostly off the floor. He was pulling her head down, fingers taut in her hair pressing to the ground, and her legs and arms locked around him. The only movement her hips as she fucked him, and she said it again, soft, pleadingly “please.”
He suddenly realized he couldn’t wait, he was too close, he felt his own body tensing, he didn’t want to hurt her, and he wanted to cum, he managed to ask, “are you using something.” But he wasn’t really paying attention, he felt cloudy with the pleasure, he wasn’t able to hear if she replied.
Then he was gasping and almost unwillingly as his body was tangled with hers, tense, he started to thrust, just once or twice as he came.
His body spasmed and he felt it, welling up in him, the pleasure and the slight sharpness as his body tensed and released, as he shot himself into her.
She moaned and he felt her spasming around him again, she made a slightly shrill noise as he began grunting, loudly he moaned, he was still trying to think, to say to let him go. He felt himself pump into her.
She felt the warmth of herself and the wet hot spray of him inside her as he moaned again. She felt herself grunting and she was panting and grunting even as she kept thrusting up and milking him.
She opened her eyes and saw him, eyes closed, brow furrowed, mouth open, gasping, She saw the way she made him feel and felt a thrill, as she kept grunting in her own lingering orgasm she kept going for another moment before she stilled. She was smiling.
They both breathed hard, and he sort of gasped, he was trying to speak. Then he managed to say it, to ask, “why… are you? Are you using something?”
She was watching him as he struggled to catch his breath, as she felt him twitch against her, inside her, and she smiled even wider, she took a deep breath, she could still feel the echoes, and she finally said “no.”
He opened his eyes, he looked upset, he didn’t say anything as he pushed up, she finally released her legs and let herself drop to the carpet again.
He pulled his hand out of her hair, pulled himself out of her with a loud grunt as his body told him that he should stay in her, in her warmth.
She lay there, he pulled himself back up to his knees. Her legs were splayed wide, her arms had dropped onto her belly, and she had a grinning, open smile. He felt a thrill from her look of contentment. And he l looked down at her sex, it aroused him when he saw her wet, still open, still aroused, his cum was there. Light against the dark of her sex, her hair matted with the moisture of them both. They were still breathing hard, and he was trying to stay calm, but his cock twitched, he found himself aroused. Some part of him was angry, she hadn’t let him pull out. Some part thought he’d just won something. But mostly he was still enjoying the waves that come after a really good orgasm.
He finally managed to catch his breath, hold his mind in place and said, “why didn’t you let me pull out?”
Her breathing had slowed, and her smile widened, “I’m not going to let you get away that easily.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I told you I always wanted a family.”
“But we barely know each other” he was suddenly panicked.
“I know, but sometimes you just know. And you told me…” she was still limp, smiling, but she opened her eyes. Looked up at him.
He was still looking between his legs, and trying to form thoughts, the spill of his cum was leaking slightly, and his mind wandered, he didn’t hear what she said next, he asked “what did you say?”
She repeated, “you told me that I had had to take a chance, go for it.”
“But this is too much, you can’t…”
“You offered” she said, as she ran her hands over her belly, caressing, she lazily moved a finger down to touch herself, feel the wetness they made between her legs.
He shook his head, “what do…what..” he asked dumbly.
“You told me, the kind of woman you’d marry would be naked in a kitchen ready to fuck.”
“I didn’t mean…”
She cut him off, “I don’t care. I’m keeping you.”
“What, I…”
“I’m going to keep you like a stray cat…” she laughed, then added, “or maybe you’ll keep me..”
He looked at her, he had no idea what to say, and stuttered “But, I…”
She lifted her head up, eyes focused on him, and added, “you… can still fuck other people, but I’ll have your babies, and you’ll give me a home.”
“I’m not…”
“Of course, you are.”
He looked down on her, he didn’t know where he lost control.
“Why would I?”
“Because you’ll be a daddy.” She rubbed her belly, and he thought she was probably wrong, he thought statistically, she might be wrong, he wondered.
She looked at him, she took a deep breath, “I’ve got you on film, fucking me, the security camera in the garden covers the glass doors, you can’t run away.”
“I’m not…” he trailed off.
“Is John your real name?”
“Of course… why do you ask?”
“Your watch is fake and you told me the car that one of the other customers.. it wasn’t yours?”
“You knew?” He didn’t like how his voice squeaked?”
“You were otherwise very convincing. But my ex… he was a good talker too, he did it differently, he made me hate myself, but not you…”
“But…”
“You were right, I do need to go after what I want.”
“I…”
“You’re not going to buy this place, so take me to your house. You can fuck me again there.”
“What do you…”
“You can fuck me again there” she said playing with herself.
His cock twitched again.
Things hadn’t worked out the way he intended.
“My name’s Chevy.”
“Like Chey Chase?… I like it. Call me Maggy.”
He stayed there on his knees, “I don’t know.”
“Please” she said in a soft voice, and his cock twitched again.
“Maybe…. I….”
Her smiled got even wider and she closed her eyes, still touching herself, she she purred.
For a moment, he took a long second, watching her touch herself, and said “I do like cats.”