#alk writes

The ink of some fading with time, some standing strong, yet none of them attracting Sam’s attention for long enough. Blood ran madly through all the veins and stationed salaciously at the base of her cock; a twitch in her pants was a nudge that demanded her to pay attention, at long last. Hungrily, she waited for the moment a pair of fingers would slip on that perfectly round and cushioned hole on the stall’s wall, signaling a willing partner ready to relieve her from pent-up energy.

Pent-up energy and, let us be frank here, a week and a half worth of untouched tension that seeped into her bones and strained her every move. Desperately, she sought the care of someone who would remain faceless and anonymous – adding to the excitement and allure – before even considering voicing, to you, what she truly wanted.

It had been two months since the two of you met. Two months since Sam Carpenter frightfully swallowed her growing attraction and since you kept it to yourself.

Let us paint the scene briefly. The scenery around you was the club, one of the many established across the busy New York city streets, bustling with life and drunken bodies grinding against each other on the dance floor. Generic music hypnotized those with a love for dancing, while others remained by their seats and by the bar chatting away. That was the case for you, idly watching Chad, Mindy and Tara bust out silly moves on the dancefloor. Distracted with a zest for fun, but you were unsure of why the music didn’t move you to dance with them when it usually did. The reasons weighed you down on your spot like invisible shackles, their very existence a mystery for you.

Instead, your mind curiously wandered about. Where was Sam in all of this? A bit ago, Sam had excused herself from the group. In between smiles, she merely admitted that she needed to breathe in the fresh air before she came back in to suffocate herself at the smell of spilled drink, strong colognes and even stronger perfume. With that, she walked down a hallway and disappeared from your view while you and ¾ of the core four continued to bandy words with yourselves. Well, technically you mostly yelled at each other in desperate attempts to speak above the cacophony of bass and synth – words lost in the pollution, jokes half told and anecdotes left without their punchline. You could barely make out what was said, but laughing about not being able to understand each other was something universal that needed no words. 

In between the laughter though, your heart yearned quietly for Sam, noting that she was not around to laugh along with you. That is when curiosity started to seep to your bones, spreading all over your body with an incessant nagging.

Eventually, they foolishly decided to get closer to the sound, and you opted out. Not out of shyness, but out of that strange sensation that now haunted you.

Minutes had passed since Sam left the group now and your thumb anxiously tapped the slick, varnished wood of the bar. Sculpted in your expression was a sign of worry but that restlessness in your body was more than a worry. It was curious energy left unused for too long that now governed and imposed itself. Where was that beautiful woman who you felt so safe with? Where was that strong, capable friend who swore to protect and keep an eye out for you in this wild environment?

When others glanced at your direction, you looked away and felt that unease grow – knowing that their intentions were clearly meant to go somewhere anyone your age would want to go on a night like this. But not you. Well, maybe yes but not with them, not with anyone but someone you trusted.

Someone like Sam Carpenter.

The relentless power of inquisitiveness finally made your feet move without your explicit permission. Taking you towards the hallway of the club, pushing past the current of people walking your opposite direction. The door leading outside the club was at the end of the hallway, a beacon of light for those who wished to get a whiff of fresh air, a break from the cacophony, or a kick from the fumes of cigarettes, maybe. Unsurprisingly, the moment you opened the door you saw more than just people taking a breath of fresh air. A handful of people who recklessly… uh, did things. Salacious things that made that red tint creep on your cheeks. Wild things not to be done in public, yet your eyes were drawn to it for long enough for you to take a good look at it. Enough for it to entice that dormant need within you.

Quickly, you bounced back inside and tried to do a mental recollection of Sam and how she was dressed tonight. Leather pants that fit her just right (and that drove you crazy), turtleneck sweater that hugged the curves and valleys of her toned body (which also drove you crazy) and black boots (which you wanted her to use to kick you). Her hair, as always, effortlessly gorgeous and loosely stationed past her shoulders, with no fancy up-do or decoration. As taken aback as you were, you didn’t see her back there – not even the caramel smooth skin, those toned arms or the tell-tale scar on her hips. Uncannily, your eyes would have jumped to her figure like it usually does, spotting her in the crowd and magnetically pulled to her. There was no such a thing, ergo she was not there.

The thought of her, the thought of that sweet smile, did little to deter the blushing in your cheeks, however. Anyone with keen eyes and under the proper light of the hallway would be able to tell you had just witnessed something that piqued more than just interest. Before you could even try to re-emerge in the busy scene near the discord of a dancefloor, you had to come down from that embarrassing cloud of arousal. Just enough to get your mind running on the right track.

The strong wooden door of the bathroom abruptly banged against the wall, marking your arrival with a heart-jumping bang. Your hurried steps cared little about whether someone was at the otherside of the door, but you were stopped dead in your tracks when the bathroom – which you expected to be crowded – was desolate. Clean, pristine as it could be, but lonely like a school at night. Sheltered from the eardrum shattering music, nuzzled far from the main area itself, was a bathroom that was filled with a peculiar aura of peace. How fascinating to you that it gave you solace. Your steps picked up to a slower, more inquisitive pace, marveling perhaps at the reality being vastly different than what you imagined.

You took a step, then another, unknowingly raising the tension of someone who waited inside a stall with labored breath. That woman was a statue among the living for this brief moment, completely stationary in all moves save for her rubbing her now sweaty palms against her pants in hopes to get it to stop.

You were oblivious to it all, until the stall towards the end made itself known to you. The door was left wide open, subtly beckoning anyone who dared to experience wild thrill for the night, a secret code spoken and left unknown to those unaware.

That was ALMOST you, until you remembered something crucial. What Mindy had shared with the crew two days ago. Visions of the conversation plagued you suddenly, just for a moment, and it dawned on you. Could this be it? The very fabled Gloryhole? If this was the case, it would be your first ever in person. 

Another step, then another, tentatively approaching to satiate that famished curiosity of yours – just to see it in person and check it off your bucket list. Then an abrupt pause. By mere chance of destiny, your eyes had caught a glimpse of something you could not have imagined. Through that crack of a poorly maintained door, your peering gaze connected uncannily to that striking figure. Unmistakably drawn to it by desire and familiarity, like you two were a set of magnets meant to forever be connected. You were certain that this was who you were looking for.

No fucking way. Your heart soared the moment you realized that tantalizing silhouette was from your dearly beloved. Those leather pants, that turtleneck… that protruding bulge that stood out in her outline – unlike her usual, careful tuck. That was Sam Carpenter, patiently waiting for someone and already aching to go. That blush you wished to get rid off only grew stronger, traveling up to your ear. You swear you could feel it flushing all over your body now, too. 

Voyeuristic tendencies got the better of you as you observed, if only for a moment, how Sam waited and pondered whether or not to stick around longer. The moment you saw her body move at any capacity, an electric jolt sprung you back to your thoughts and moved lightning fast towards the open stall. Slamming the door closed, you locked it. 

A beat of hesitation tempted to stretch out for longer, threatening to bring in doubts but you shut it off quickly by boldly moving forward. Feet shuffled anxiously on the other side of the scribbled wall and you wondered if Sam could possibly know it was you. Would she recognize your fingers as they slipped through the hole and wiggled to signal your willingness?

Would she… recognize the shy little one that looked at her so fondly was finally making a move?

-

Oh, darling. How did we get here?

Rewinding back the time to two mere months ago, we will find the beginning of something innocent – unaware that one day a spark would bring it all ablaze.

Unprecedented circumstances, like Tara Carpenter letting you into her apartment to wait for her while she dresses up this early into your friendship, is what led you to this place. The infamous apartment with a story to tell that was best left unspoken of. Casually, Sam Carpenter walked out of the kitchen, speaking loudly to catch the attention of her sister in the room far down the hallway, unaware that you were sitting there by yourself on the couch. 

Oh she illuminated your world with that bright beauty the moment you laid eyes upon her gorgeousness. The true exponent of the word dazzling, with all the letters counted and capitalized. It was artistry in bodily form, made flesh and standing right before your eyes. Those bewitching round eyes, her hues a warm chocolate color, met yours and you froze just like she did. A chance meeting that was, admittedly, a tad bit awkward but so moving that you could still feel those goosebumps on your skin upon remembering it. 

Plenty of stories about the frightening Sam Carpenter have been told and you have only listened to half of them – some of them exaggerated to the point where Mindy jokingly assured you that you would hear a taser go off to herald her arrival. Reality was anything but fantastical, yet her presence felt otherworldly to you. Right before you was a woman who was surprised to see you, caught off guard with a potato and a peeler in her hand, a mundane look that helped paint Sam in a better light. 

Rather than a ferocious attack or any terrifying comment, she tilted her head a little. 

“You… are Tara’s friend?” She asked gently, trying her best to avoid scaring you (aware of her reputation) and trying to shove away her instinct of survival. 

You slowly stood up with a nod and a gentle bow of your head. A respectful greeting, along with a soft mumbled apology.

In response to that apology, Sam merely smiled for a second before she excused herself back to the kitchen. A meeting that was too quick yet made your heart feel lighter, like the fabled butterflies were not in your stomach but blooming in your heart.

When Tara came out, dressed to the heavens for a night of fun, you sheepishly commented that you had met Sam already and that it was as every bit as awkward as you expected it to be. However, Tara laughed.

“She didn’t tell you not to hurt me?”

You shook your head.

“That’s odd, she often does that.”

That puzzled you, and that would continue to puzzle you for the subsequent times you were allowed into the apartment. Your friendship with Tara could truly be measured by how many times she had invited you into the apartment – a home sacred and untouched by anybody in the outside realm unless for good reason. By the fifth time you were invited in, Sam was ensconced in the couch with a book in hand and furrowed, concentrated brows. At first it was a painfully awkward situation, helped little by your shyness. You sat at a distance, hands on your knees and avoiding all possible eye contact.

Until Sam piped up, closing her book for a moment. “Have you eaten already?”

The look of bewilderment in your eyes could not be helped, it made Sam chuckle and repeat the question. When you shook your head, she stood up and told you to stay there. Abandoning her very fascinating read, Sam had opted to at least try to connect with you in a way she knew how. Being a caring person, and taking care of those around her. And her care came in the shape of something simple. A fresh apple that would do wonders for the long night of partying. The smile was gentle, sheepish, and yours mirrored that innocence of a fresh friendship as you took it.

A slow start, but a steady one. 

Something that built a strong foundation for a more casual conversation, then a more genuine care between the two of you. Sam had gone from vaguely grimacing at the thought of Tara going out with an unknown friend to feeling a bit of relief to hear you were tagging along with the core-three. The once awkward chit-chat between the two of you turned pleasant, an easy flowing conversation that made the waiting time for Tara a lot more bearable. You started to arrive earlier than expected, feeling more enthusiastic about talking to Sam, and it seemed to you that she welcomed this change – especially after a long week of dull work.

We flash forward to a month from that initial moment. The core four all reunited in the apartment. Beer bottles decorated the coffee table, the TV humming away quietly as laughter filled the living room. You and the trio of college mates had opted to remain in the apartment as the strong pelting rain quickly caught your plans and flushed them down the sewer drains. The bastard chilly wind crept up to your bones as you and the rest had huddled under any rooftop to escape the watery assault.

Now at home, Sam had all of you get rid of anything wet to put in the dryer. Nursing cups of hot chocolate (or tea, for Tara), you guys warmed up to a better night in the company of people you slowly came to trust.

Having already ditched the empty cup, Mindy was standing among you all with her arms raised. “That’s when I realized, oh my god… I’m not in Woodsboro anymore,” she laughed, telling this little story with that magnanimous, theatrical air that she always had when going on a monologue. ”New York Motherfucking City has gloryholes!” Mindy exclaimed triumphantly, which led to Tara and Chad laughing heartily. “Even in the ladies’ bathrooms, too!” She kissed her hand and did a cross over her chest, dramatically directing it towards the sky. “My prayers have been answered.”

Then Tara decided to point to you, aiming sharply and ready to launch a tease. “Why don’t you try them out?”

There was not a noise, not even a tiny gasp of air, and suddenly all eyes were on you. Even the slow, anticipatory gaze of Sam Carpenter. In reality, being put on the spot was not the sole source of the rosy hue plaguing your cheeks. The true source was that look of curiosity in Sam’s eyes, the subtle way her thick eyebrows rose at the prospect of a possible response. That’s when your blush spread a deeper, redder shade. 

“Is it creeping to her ears, yet?” Mindy asked playfully. 

Which in turn made you pout and look away, igniting explosive laughter from the three rascals. All done in good humor, however, between the laughter and the comfort of friends who – unlike many others in the past – seldom teased you about this kind of thing. Tonight was the rare occurrence of many. It was not that your shyness was legendary, but rather that your introversion had kept you quiet from so many desires being spoken out loud. Tara, especially, knew of the extent of your shyness and just how stifled your desire was.

A neat lead into that one little incident when you stayed over at the apartment a bit before this moment. A tempestuous weather like this one making it unsafe to travel anywhere, no less. Your tippy toes snuck out of the snoring girl’s bedroom (this is how you found out Tara snored a lot), careful of disturbing even the air’s silent flow. All you were wanting to do was get a nice, refreshing cup of warm water to combat the chilly morning to come, but you were stopped by the look of someone so familiar to you, in such an unfamiliar position.

Sam Carpenter, in a black tank top that was lifted just above her stomach (was… that a scar you saw?) and with gray sweatpants that clung to her thighs just the right way. What truly surprised you was her cock. It stood strong and commanded the attention of your eyes – the curves of her outline from your view all leading down to its protruding presence. Sitting on the couch, head tossed back, as her veiny hands stroked that oily cock slowly. You weren’t sure who had a better display of self-restraint: Sam with the way she slowly stroked herself, despite looking like she was at the verge of coming, or you who kept in your spot and didn’t jump to help her take care of it. 

Ardent desire brewed up and caught your attention instantly, no matter how much you wanted to bury it. Your tongue ached to drag across that cock, relieving her of the burden of doing it herself; your eager mouth yearning to belong to her just for a moment, to have her name marked metaphorically on your mouth. 

Just a moment, on your knees, if she would let you. Only then.

That fantasy of yours and those delicious whimpers all came to an abrupt stop when Sam opened her eyes and noticed you standing there with your mouth slightly agape.

Swiftly, she pulled her sweatpants up and covered herself with a pillow while you (blushing a tomato red at this point) apologized in rough whispers and retreated back to Tara’s room. The frantic move and the way you closed her door had Tara jolting awake – groaning in relief then groggily stirring and asking what was the matter. When you appeared painted in red almost from head to toe, Tara had to ask you what on earth just happened.

Then obviously she regretted asking immediately. 

From that day on, the tense air between Sam and you was palpable and evident. A tension that charged the air not with malice but with unresolved feelings. The butterflies that bloomed in your heart now made it thump heavily with desire, your gut coiled at the mere sight of her. A subtle touch here that felt more protective and casual than anything, a quick check-out there that felt like she was just making sure you were okay. All of these signals mixed and conflicted in your mind, seeping into your dreams and igniting less than savory reactions to her mere presence. All of it hanging unclear to you, for you had no idea of whether or not Sam even felt comfortable with you around… Until she gave you that look that changed the feel of everything. 

That look when the gloryhole conversation happened, that glance that stretched out from that conversation onward, had you puzzled about Sam and how she felt. Was it an implicit request? Or merely a curious glance to know what was ticking within your head? Questions that sailed in the air and remained unanswered for so long.

The month had passed since that comment Mindy made, the trio of rascals poking and prodding you to give it a go one weekend, insinuating that maybe you should let loose and get wild. In your head, carnal thoughts of Sam Carpenter twirled but none of them knew. Not even Tara.

Now, there you were on your knees in front of that hole as you observed vague hesitation on the other side. The sound of unbuttoning and unzipping has never been so suspenseful, labored breath of uncertainty and arousal were the only things you could hear consistently. 

Your heart beating madly against your ribcage drowned out the thumping sound of music, the bass vibrating on the walls suddenly all nonsense now. Then in slid that cock in display for you. Hard but still slightly droopy, leaving you room to harden it with your own keen mouth. Oh, you salivated merely looking at it – but what was more arousing was knowing who this belonged to. This veiny, thick cock belonged to the woman with lovely skin, deep soulful eyes, beautifully dense eyebrows and strong, chiseled body. The woman whose smile was rare as a silk-skinned silver horse, but a treat for the lucky ones to witness.

After some shuffling and adjustment, those hefty and heavy balls came in to fully complete the picture. A celibate woman who had no time to relieve herself, or… a woman who had held herself back in anticipation for this moment? Before Sam could second guess this bold decision, you countered with a bold move of your own. Careful digits wrapped around her cock and reassured her that you were close to starting, a thumb trailing down those pulsing veins unhurried and undeterred. 

Hesitation, just for a second, as your conscious side wondered if this was okay to do. This was, after all, the sister of a dear friend – the woman who you deeply respected yet salaciously fantasized about since that infamous day. Whether she decided to be here or not was irrelevant to you, that is her decision, but you knew she was there. She did not know YOU were in here, being oblivious that this anonymity thing was only on her side.

Would this be… intrusive, a bad thing to do?

Yet, it felt so alluring, so exciting.

Your thirst could not be quenched, an opportunity like fine sand that threatened to slip past your fingers to be taken by the gust of wind – never to be found again. Would regret fill you if you didn’t do this? For once, you took that daring step forward and forfeited acknowledging any consequence.

The anticipation had Sam all tense, muscles coiled up. Then the fingers wrapped around her at last, soon ushering in that exquisite feeling of a wet, warm tongue trailing from the very base of her cock all the way up to that bulbous tip. No doubt her cock responded with an eager twitch while Sam had clasped a hand around her mouth to forbid herself from making a single noise. It was not pride but rather caution that, perhaps, somehow her voice would be recognizable to the apparent stranger on the other side. Holding it back a little seemed sensible, but becoming increasingly difficult.

You savored that cock and licked it over and over again with a slow, sensual rhythm, truly leaving no inch without a good firm lick. A bawdy flick of your tongue aimed at the tip, like you saw in so many videos, drew a gasp out of Sam and you knew then you were on the right path – letting yourself be taken by the ferocious instincts of lust. You got familiar with it, tasting every inch, taking into its every detail, nuzzling your wet, soft lips against the shaft and dragging them across her length. You lavished in the way her tenseness faded the more and more you pampered her cock, fingertips grazing ever so gently across many of its distinct features. 

Back when you caught her, you were too busy looking at her in that exquisite state to take into the finer points. Now, you relished in the time. A slight curvature towards the end of her cock pointed downwards just a tad, a sensible length that did not terrify you despite the thickness proving to be a bit intimidating the closer you got. Extra skin that made her hefty shaft look a little heftier, but when you stroke her it was so tantalizing to feel on your fingertips. It was an experience that you had not thought would be so intriguing, enough to get you gently pulling all away and slapping that cock just to hear Sam’s sexy grunt at the feeling of sudden stimulation. You watched it swing back and forth before it stationed in its rightful place, just inches away from your lips. 

God, it was addictive, like the rest of this woman. The woman that was pure perfection, chiseled and sculpted just the way you liked – but so tender and sweet beneath that sturdy wall she put up. To see her in this light was arousing, brand new. 

Your boldness faltered just for a second as you wrapped your lips around her sensitive tip and heard her unable to restrain a satisfied moan; you felt it vibrate against the wall, muffled but close, feeling it creep into your gut and make you so much more needy than you were before. Right there, with that thick, throbbing cock nuzzling your mouth it had dawned on you that you were truly doing this, taking what you wanted by the balls (not literally). That flicker of self-doubt was not enough to dissuade you, the tacit encouragement from Sam’s grunt inciting a muffled moan of your own that dragged you deeper in into this.

Welcoming that tip in slowly, you stopped just past the beginning then pulled your head back, dragging your soft, pillowy lips across that tip and letting it pop out in such a satisfactory way. The positive reaction from Sam was one thing, but her self-restraint was so sexy. As much as you wanted her to let loose, to thrust into your mouth, you needed to take it slow. So you did it again, letting the arousal calm your body and prepare you for more. Yes, indeed, you needed to savor every second of this moment for it could never come back, but wisely before you hurt yourself.

Once again your lips engulfed that tip again, but this time your movement was swift and sure, without teasing. A soft languid bob back and forth had Sam sighing in a mixture of relief and pleasure. You could feel her press her head against the wall as she let herself go. The feeling of that throbbing cock inside your mouth had your eagerness growing, feeling it subtly thicken inside your mouth as it hardened as much as it could.

Poor Sam started to claw at the wall at the slow, agonizing pace – hands desperately reaching to hold onto something steady. Frustrating how slow this was, but god it felt so good to have someone take her time with her cock. Something she sorely missed. Yet, behind those closed eyes laid the image of you, in her imagination, in all your bare splendor right there for her to take and make hers however she wanted. Imagining it, finally indulging in that fantasy of hers that she never dared to fully explore – even within the realms of her own complicated mind.

Oh, if only you knew. But you were hard at work anyways. 

Hesitant fingers lightly touched those balls of her before becoming bolder with it. You cupped them and lightly kneaded them and Sam’s response to it was bucking her hips to push her cock deeper into your mouth. At first, it took you back, but it was a raw move that you encouraged her to do by kneading them again and again. Now prepared, you welcomed more of her into your readied mouth, bobbing against the rhythm of her bucking hips. 

Wet, fleshy walls gave way for Sam’s cock and welcomed them with gusto, your tongue and mouth at work as you kept bobbing. Sam couldn’t see it, but she knew you were worshiping that cock like anyone should. The wet suckles of it, the smeared and abundant saliva dripping down her balls and down your lips, all of it lacking the glamor but being so insanely stimulating. Who the fuck cared about glamor anyways? 

Your pussy ached every time you felt Sam’s cock nuzzle the back of your throat, wishing so desperately to have that cock inside of you making you feel pleasure so intense you could scream. But you settled for this, moaning against her thickness and letting those vibrations give her an idea that you deeply enjoyed this – carrying with it the implicit message that could do this for long. As long as she resisted and held that orgasm back, as long as she wanted you to be there.

But then you stopped, pulling away completely, letting her hardened shaft stand on its own and throb in protest. The feeling of loss of flesh around Sam’s cock had her whining in tandem, but she drowned out any vocal protest for the sake of anonymity. For the sake of avoiding calling out your name.

Her dick was glistening with your saliva all over it, giving a twitch here and there, and you relished in the feeling that you caused this. This was your doing, this impatience was because of you. A strangely powerful thing to think about, which sparked a fire on your mischievousness. Teasingly, you stuck your tongue out and flicked that beet-red tip in a moderate rhythm, earning a squirm and a whimper from Sam. Then you twirled your tongue around it, watching her struggle to keep in place at it. This was a powerful feeling that slowly emboldened you.

In came the shaft into your mouth again, this time your bravado making every inch of the movement with a flourish – like you had far more experience than you did. You sucked that cock like a champion and you could tell that Sam was starting to melt under your passion; her legs quivering just for a moment before she pulled herself together. A hand cupped her balls and kept kneading them while the other one stroked her hefty base, matching the cadence of the moves. She was being treated like a Queen, stimulated to her every sense. The more of it got inside of you, the wilder you felt; the more Sam could feel your tight throat wrapping around her cock, the closer she felt to coming inside of it.

You pulled away for a brief moment to breathe, which made it evident that was close to coming. There, you observed her glorious thickness standing proud and as hard as it could get, the tip of it blushing a maddening red that signified her sensitivity. A sensitivity you cheekily exploited by rubbing your thumb around her drenched tip.

“F-fuck,” Sam gasped out mindlessly, soon battling the desire to moan louder and say more.

A battle she soon would lose once you dove in again to take most of that cock into your mouth, having Sam throw her head back in ecstasy, rubbing her hands against her face before being forced to cling back onto the wall for dear life. 

Your voracious greed to feel that warm cream in your throat had you concentrated and sucking away like Sam’s little slut, but you were not too hypnotized with arousal to hear those swift and true words – the only few that Sam had spoken since the session started. Yet, these words dropped like two big sacks of potatoes. The moment you heard it, the moment you stopped dead in your tracks and pulled all the way away. 

The air suddenly was filled with suspense and realization.

Sam had mindlessly moaned out your name.

Even she froze, feeling her breath caught on her throat. Now you two were at an impassé, but you were beyond just puzzled. That little unrequited attraction of yours hit you like a truck, seeing those curious glances from Sam suddenly have all kinds of different meanings. Your suspicions were not even clear, but now any doubt was dispelled. Your heart fluttered amidst the wildness, for Sam wanted you so bad as well.

So bad she moaned your name when she thought someone else was sucking her cock.

“S-sorry,” Sam stammered out, her alluring voice drowned by the barrier between the two, but the clear sound of shuffling fabric caught your attention and sent alarms all over your brain.

The moment she removed her cock from the hole, you had to make a decision. Go out and chase her? Let her go back to the club? Whatever the decision was, it was now or never.

Frantically, you got up and nearly yanked that lock out of its place. The moment you swung that door open, you took the largest strides you’ve ever taken in your life, aiming to meet Sam in her own stall.

Violently, her own stall door swung open. Your eyes found each other and the initial shock stayed to keep you both electrified and frozen in your spot. Sam could not believe her eyes, and you could not believe yours. 

“Y-you–?” Sam barely managed to stammer out.

You, on the other hand, gently pushed her further into the stall and got in, closing the door behind you with one violent swing. 

Normally, one would talk their newfound feelings out. Sam and you would voice your attraction for one another and perhaps note that you both have foolishly been too shy to make a move. Perhaps there was a laugh or two to come out from the two of you as you confess that you liked each other.

Not tonight.

Tonight, at the mere proximity of each other your unbridled chemistry exploded. Shrapnel of restrained flying everywhere as Sam held you by your waist and pulled you closer, hands and arms automatically wrapping around her neck. Lips clashing rather haphazardly to meet each other messily, yet passionately. Driven by mad desire that could not wait for a second longer.

The heavy thud of you being put against the stall’s wall echoed in the still-empty bathroom, yet it aroused you to feel and hear you were being desperately manhandled by the woman who could no longer resist her urges. Your chest pressed against the stall, your cheek soon following behind it as you could feel Sam getting rid of any fabric restriction you had on. Letting that hunger take over her, she smacked your ass with such a sensual grunt coming from her. You whimpered, helplessly pushing yourself against her more. Sam wrapped her arms around you from behind and pressed her body against you. Her cock nuzzled against your rear, poking your lower back as she tried to compose herself. Ah, she must tame her wildness, bottling it up just a tad bit to relish in this moment of intimacy – the first of many to come, she hoped. But if not, she would make this one worth every nanosecond.

Slowing down, Sam held you tightly to her, pressing her lips against the back of your shoulders. A soft phrase was spoken, it almost didn’t reach your ears. “You want me to keep going?”

The response nearly jumped out of you mindlessly, a knee-jerk reaction to the question. “Don’t stop, please.”

Her hold got tighter and closer to her sturdy body, her lips peppering kisses along a serpentine path towards your neck. To have you this close was something Sam had imagined, but she smelled your scent from up close and she could not have imagined you smelled like home. Familiar, comfortable, someone she could trust to indulge her in this carnal, wild desire. Her arms moved to let her hands caress just under your bust with the tenderness of someone who was handling thin, fragile glass. So gentle, so loving. Then, her hands slid upwards to cup your breast with such a passionate grip – yet in its undertone you could feel the murmurs of fondness and adulation. A simple gesture that read so raw, yet held such strong emotion. Sam wanted you in all the essence, so desperately so that her mere touch on your breast had her moaning, letting the rumbles of it tickle the skin of your neck.

Had it not been for the circumstances, you knew Sam would get rid of everything you were wearing, just to worship your body the way she needed, but this would have to do. This, as haphazard and frantic as it was, was more than enough.

Your nipples grew erect at her touch and she seemed to relish that, feeling her smile as her lips traveled to the back of your neck. A tender nibble there brought a much needed giggle from you. Your hand reached back to touch Sam, landing on her hips, gripping her tightly in desperation that she may pull away from this intoxicating embrace. Your gut spoke for you rather than your mind when you said: “Sam, please. I need you inside.”

A vague expression of surprise could have been evident in Sam’s ethereal features, but her soft and calm words didn’t betray her composure. “Do you think you’re ready?”

You bit your lower lip, forehead placed against the wall. “I-I know you’re big, but I… I need it.”

Lovingly flicking your erect nipples through the fabric, Sam mumbled, drunk with lust and unable to deny you this request. Yet, she tacitly would make sure you were primed and ready for her. Grabbing you by your hips and motioning you to stick your lower half out to her. Her strong grip on your thighs felt so fiercely possessive in a way, it made you whimper at it. Oh, but you truly would moan out at the feeling of her cock tapping against your clip, smearing all that drooling lubricant across your already wet pussy. Not an ounce of embarrassment to admit that you were this wet from merely sucking Sam’s cock. Even better, Sam pulled away from the nape of your neck to look at you, a smirk tugging her lips.

“You enjoyed sucking me off, didn’t you?” Her lascivious question was delivered in that low, sensual voice of her that drove you crazy. You wondered perhaps if she knew so, but that question was answered when she sunk down to your ear and whispered to you. “You’ve been dreaming about that, haven’t you?”

Oh heavenly lords, you could have melted right then and there, but you held your ground. “I-It seems you did, too,” out came your stammer, but it was strong enough to get a chuckle out of Sam.

“Seems we both been needing this,” she conceded, unable to deny that she had been dreaming and fantasizing about you. “We’ve both been very naughty girls,” and to add to this, she reaches down from your hips to your pussy. Holding her cock in place, she soon begins to rock her hips back and forth, rubbing its throbbing length against your pussy. Your body instantly reacted to it, you instantly moaned, fingertips digging deeper into Sam’s moving hips. It felt so good, so enticing.

Yet it was not nearly enough! Ugh, it was not going to be enough.

“Sam,” you groaned, needily. “I need it inside, please.”

To placate your grousing, she whispered in return. “I need you dripping wet, baby,” and yet that syrupy tone did little to appease you, for it retained an ounce of cheekiness that you could not shake. Yes, she needed you to be ready, but she seemed to savor that power she had over you – she cherished the way you were trembling for her. Oh god, you truly were in shambles, but one thing was true as well.

“Sam–hnng,” the sudden roughness in her thrust got you off guard but you fought through it. “You’re so hard, I can feel you throbbing against my pussy,” you nearly gasped out. “You need to be inside me, too. You want to fill me up a-and feel me come on your cock. I-I know it.”

Sam, too, was in desperate need of you. Sam licked her lips, that dominant look on her eyes replaced by total and utter hunger. It was true, even if she didn’t acknowledge it. 

To coax her further, you moaned out. “Please fuck me, Sam. Please?”

Sam’s heart, protected by sturdy walls that one could not climb, was swayed and soft at your words and the way your voice tickled her. With no more preambles, she pulled away and put you in the proper place, a hand guiding her cock. The erratic breath of excitement, the tension of the moment, it had you nearly on your toes. Feeling that bulbous, drooling tip against your entrance for a mere second had you gasping, but as it pushed inside it yanked a drawn out moan that – if you were in a far quieter place – would give your escapade away entirely. Sam’s grunt rumbled beneath your moan, unable to fathom how good it feels to slide into you. Her cock was surrounded by tender walls that hugged its thickness, warmth making the mere sensation even more ambrosial. 

Oh you could feel her slowly filling you to the brim, an overwhelmingly good sensation that made you feel like you were going to come the moment she moved inside of you. But that was not the case. After burying herself as deep as you let her, she wrapped her arms around you and held you close again, teeth grazing the back of your shoulder and nibbling playfully as she gave you time to adjust. “Is this okay?” She asked softly, a tender contrast to her growing wildness. “Do-does it hurt?”

You mewled in response, fondness for Sam dripping from the way you spoke. “I-I’m okay. It feels so good, Sam.” Such a caring, careful woman.

That made her heart swell with delight, to know that she was giving you so much pleasure.

But once she knew you were good to go, she did not stop herself from unleashing that wild desire. 

Her thrusts began slowly at first, just to test you, just to hear that sigh of relief from you. Walls accepted her thrusts smoothly, stroking her cock just the right way. And thus, she greedily wanted more of it. Soon enough, she was growing rough in her move, her hips ramming against you in a steady, agonizing rhythm that instantly made you yelp in excitement. It felt so fucking good to be filled and fucked by Sam Carpenter, whose grunts and groans filled the empty bathroom along with your needy moans. The bombastic sound of the music outside blanketed the noises of your escapade, especially as Sam started to thrust faster. Then, perhaps by miracle, you could hear the door of the bathroom opening – the intense noise from outside slipping in as the door opened a crack.

Sam was faster in reacting than you, reaching over and clasping your mouth shut and pulling your slumping body in an embrace. The suddenness stopped everything, and it was agonizing. There was vague annoyance in the way Sam sighed, and there was definitely annoyance in the way you groaned at the loss of friction. The distracting sound of two somewhat drunk girls chatting loudly (still used to the cacophony outside) had you both on hold for the moment, looking at each other longingly for that moment of interruption. 

Those big, brown eyes looked at you so lovingly, you melted and lowered your guard. Enough to nearly moan loudly when you felt her twirling her hips subtly, poking and rubbing at those exquisite posts that are not easy to reach. Her hand pressed harder against your mouth and you tried so hard to keep those moans to yourself. Quietly, and rather cheekily, Sam hushed you to keep it down as the drunk girls kept on droning away about trivial but fascinating things.

Like the glory hole in this very bathroom for example. The glory hole that was only half occupied and seemed to be wide open on the other side. One of the girls made a comment about it, the other girl noted it was open. Then, curiosity began to escalate for the two of them. Sam could already see a problem rising soon, planning ahead how to wiggle out of this one. However, just as the shuffling feet started to approach their stall, Sam inadvertently plunged her cock as deep as it could – out of surprise, perhaps? Whatever it was, it made a long, clear moan slip past both of your lips, the thrill of nearly being found out helping you none in placating neither of you. 

That moan seemed to deter the two girls enough for them to giggle among themselves and make haste out of the bathroom. Crisis averted, for now. Not knowing that in the horizon awaited another interruption, preparing itself to barge in.

For now, however, the breath you and Sam held together was expelled the moment the bathroom’s door slammed close. The relief was immediate, it made Sam drop her hand from your mouth. However, lust quickly took over, her hand now around your throat and holding you in place. 

“Naughty girl,” she cheekily chuckled out, fingers digging tactfully into your neck. “You couldn’t hold that one back?”

Daringly, you pushed your hips against her and drew a grunt from her. “Neither could you,” you responded with a smirk of your own.

Both of your smirks met with a mutual ‘touché’ then dropped the moment Sam resumed her thrusting. This time each move was certain and hungry, ramming herself as deep as possible within you and getting those long strokes to get every inch of her cock. God, you could enjoy those long, spaced out strokes all night until you came over and over again from it, but urgency suddenly plagued the both of you when you could feel your discarded phone vibrate, a familiar DING bringing the two of you a reminder that just outside of there your friends awaited you. A groan came out of Sam and you weren’t sure if it was of raw pleasure or vague annoyance, but she let go of your throat and pushed you against the wall to pick up her pace. A rather strong and quickened pace.

Those long luscious strokes gave way to faster ones, overwhelming at first but soon fading to total pleasure that had you holding onto anything for dear life. Sam’s grip on your hips was possessive, yet savagely affectionate with the way she occasionally rubbed and caressed your body with a hunger you never imagined from her. Such a passionate gesture that made you feel like Sam was madly beguiled by you. An intoxicating idea that clouded your reason with a thick fog of lust – a dense cloud that only got heavier, impeding thoughts that were not driven by the growing pleasure. The pleasure that grew stronger with each of Sam’s thrusts, feeling it tentacle all over your body and grab hold of it, building up that pressure in your gut, that sweet, sweet tell-tale of explosive release. You could feel your walls closing around Sam’s cock, deliciously squeezing her cock. In a brief moment of lucidity you could almost tell she was growing thicker, harder–.

Then you both heard yet another person waltzing in, this time more tentatively than the last, unaware that the climax of your affair was just around the corner. Sam’s hand quickly clasped your mouth shut again, but was unable to stop moving her hips, ushering in that strong orgasm that made your body squirm, shake and melt into her arms. God, you could feel your juices crashing down against Sam’s cock, feeling the way she fucked it out of you as you put everything in your power to stop yourself from moaning so loudly. Then there was that tell-tale twitching from Sam’s cock, that hard bite of her lips and a visibly, physical struggle to not let her hips stutter at this crucial moment.

“Sam? Are you here?” The familiar voice bounced off the walls and you could nearly gasp at the realization.

That was Mindy. Oh god, that was Mindy.

Sam was bewildered as well, but her orgasm was not going to stop and wait – no matter how hard she tried to push it back. It exploded full force ahead, shooting thick and dense ropes of cream into you hurriedly, one after the other. It yanked a long, high pitched moan from Sam that made you feel like you could come again just by hearing it, by feeling it seep into your bones, by feeling the way she was filling you with her cum. Oh, the feeling of it throbbing inside of your, pushing your relaxed walls more, you couldn’t hold your moans back. It sneaked past Sam’s fingers and made itself be known – enough for the steps of the other side to stop dead in their tracks.

That heavy, deadly silence befell the three of you, Sam completely still and praying to god for Mindy to get the hint and leave. Even with the tempestuous music from the outside muffled, you hoped that it was loud enough for Mindy not to notice it was you and Sam, but just enough to get the gist. But you confirmed that she could hear it, hearing her just hastily walk away. 

Another breath of relief released the tension between the two of you, making you melt against the wall. Slowly, Sam pulled her cock out from you, the two of you whimpering at the loss of contact until it fully slipped out. Her cock was coated with your juices and hers, your pussy dripped with her cream. Labored breath from the two of you filled the bathroom now, soon replaced by a quick thud and a messy, delicious kiss.

When you weren’t expecting it, Sam had turned you around and given you a lazy, but vigorous kiss. Her body felt strong but relaxed in your arms, her lips just molding to yours.

Reduced to a fatigued mess, the two of you had a lot to talk about but little desire to do that now. Not until the two of you got rid of that built up desire.

-

Only the lord knows how long it has been since Mindy caught you both. All she knows is that by the time she saw you both emerge from the hallway, she was on her third glass. Her third glass! Sam appeared first and Mindy peered at her from a far over the rim of the now empty glass, but when she saw you in tow she truly could not believe her eyes. Mindy slammed that drink down and hurried towards the two of you, pushing past people who minded their own liquid business by the bar. Usually, she would be overpowered by the crowd, but at the sight of such a delicious development she had all the might in the world.

The moment she entered your peripheral vision, you held Sam’s arm by her forearm, knowing she had not noticed it and already prepared for the most embarrassing moment of yourself. Sam jumped a bit but was too fatigued to make a big show out of it, but once her eyes registered Mindy’s shape, she too knew she would be in for the embarrassment of a lifetime.

And of course, Mindy’s first words were: “Are you guys KIDDING ME?! In the BATHROOM?!”

You and Sam looked at each other before you instinctively got behind Sam. In your cheeks existed a blush of embarrassment where one of arousal used to exist, while on Sam there was an apologetic smile and a shrug of her shoulders. 

_____________________________________________

You were in Mabel’s debt and you knew it. You wondered that maybe she would ask you to forget about that favor she did for you, or cash it in later on in the friendship, but you weren’t aware how soon it would happen.

“So,” Mabel started as she got comfortable on her seat, feet coming up on the table, drink in hand and her eyes fixated on you. “Getting into trouble lately?”

You laughed and shook your head at the question, settling down across from her with a fresh, cold drink in your hand. The setting sun filled the scenery with a warm, golden glow that brought this party to a calming close. Not five minutes ago you were dancing with Mabel for what seemed to be hours full of fun and laughter, joined by the other party-goers and new faces that you became quickly acquaintanced with. New phone numbers, new names, new stories and new faces that would become your saving grace around town, but above all you had finally found that lady that saved you last time. 

Mabel and you had barely spoken since you two met each other at this party; no time to catch up before Mabel boldly asked you to dance with her, setting both of your drinks on someone else’s table and dragging you by your hand sleeve. And with the blaring music, you could only dance with her and laugh the afternoon away, communicating with body language only – words unable to make themselves known in the cacophony. Only now that the music got slower, the frantic nature of the party started to dwindle, the running kids now walked, did you and Mabel choose to sit down. Like a bewitching tarantallegra that had slowly worn out, taking Mabel’s and your stamina in the process of it. The people around you were either chatting away the last few bits of conversation, stalling someone’s departure, slow dancing, or picking their stuff up to go. But you and Mabel sat across from each other, a plastic table that wobble being the only reason the two of you kept a distance. 

Just you and her in this conversation, no one else to mingle.

You leaned back against the chair, legs crossed and shrugging. “I’ve been keeping my nose clean.”

“Good,” Mabel smiled with a nod. “I don’t plan to meet you in jail,” she said simply, taking a sip from her drink.

You could almost huff in playful disbelief, a hand on your chest. “Bold of you to think I could ever get caught.”

Mabel stopped drinking, chuckling. “Oh yeah? You’ve jumped the law?”

You shrugged. “They don’t even know I exist.”

“I see, you’re that type huh? You get it done,” Mabel paused, her smile subtly transforming into a softer one. “And get it done well.”

That last bit she said with a lower tone. Could be interpreted as an innuendo, or as something she was sounding out to keep in mind for later. You were curious, wanting to know her intentions when she said that. So, you looked into her eyes and tried your best not to get lost on them; she stared right back at you and seemed not to mind getting lost on them for however long this moment took. Hard to read, hard to decipher, but not impossible. Even if you didn’t know what she meant right now, you would know eventually.

Lowly and rather absentmindedly, you said: “If you ever need anything, I’m your girl.”

There was a moment of silence for Mabel to laugh, shaking her head and breaking eye contact from you to look down at her cup. A gorgeous smile decorated with dimples that you swear were the prettiest thing in this waking world, you could observe her everyday. When her gaze came up, she took a long sip of her drink and let her eyes merely travel up and down at you, sending a message that you were happy to receive. The air between the two of you was charged with tension that both of you knew about, but chose to ignore and not act upon for now. Carefully treading each other with the wisdom you gained from past betrayals, you both sized each other up. The first one to break that silence was you to ask a simple but meaningful question.

“How are you holding up, Mabel?”

Mabel paused for a second, head tilted, like she wasn’t sure how to answer that. Was it a question that seemed not to be asked often to her? It seemed so, or at least the genuine feeling of it was foreign to Mabel’s ears. It was accidental, not planning to sound so honest about it, but she appreciated it with a subtle smile. Then the conversation flowed so naturally you didn’t even think it through. 

Despite the initial caution, you both shared things about yourself smoothly. A constant quid pro quo between the two of you. You learned that she liked a multitude of mundane things like: leather jackets, cheesecakes, total darkness when she sleeps, dancing and sunsets. Mabel learned that you liked a multitude of mundane things that she didn’t think you would like: leather jackets, soft blankets, cookies, dancing and sunrise. You learned that she enjoyed sharing fun anecdotes in conversations; Mabel learned that you particularly enjoyed cheeky replies. You learned that Mabel was always a bit of a daredevil, even as a child; Mabel learned you were, in contrast, the quieter kid. You learned that she loves cars; Mabel learned that you loved motorcycles. 

You learned that she doesn’t like her mother and that she loves her little sister; Mabel learned that your mother and you were estranged and you are an only child. You learned that Mabel stays away from the people her mother knows as much as possible; Mabel learned that you stay very far away from your hometown for the same reasons. You learned that she’s generally a touchy person, craving to touch and be in proximity to people; Mabel learned that you didn’t mind it. 

You learned that Mabel felt alone in her own world; Mabel learned that you felt the same until you met her.

The moment the kids started to drop like flies, fast asleep in the arms of their guardians, that was the moment the party came to a definite but smooth finish. Lots of farewells hung in the air, plenty of promises to keep in touch or to meet up soon wafting about, those who lived in this backyard and those who still had energy helping clean up. A large amount of people were soon gone when you and Mabel stopped talking and planned to go home, much to your chagrin and hers. Yet, when Mabel was about to go you tugged her by her sleeve and dragged her back once you realized you were both about to leave the party without doing something first. 

“Come here little lady, let’s at least help clean the place up.” 

Mabel couldn’t deny the offer, even if it wasn’t her first thought. Frankly, an odd suggestion but it intrigued her enough. Besides, it meant she could observe you do something mundane, observe you helping others and getting familiar with new people. While the two of you helped others clean up, you learned that Mabel was a good teammate. And Mabel learned you were, indeed, someone reliable – even if it was in this simple event, the simplest gestures, she could feel it was true that you were to be trusted.

And she would truly learn how much she could trust you as the night went on.

Once you entered your apartment after helping clean up the party, you thought the night to be well over. No after-party, no desire to go back out in the streets to do anything, not even a desire to scope some places out and find your own fun out there. Nothing, just calm and peace. 

Mabel herself drove you home, exchanging each other's numbers and interested to continue each other’s growing friendship. The fire in Mabel’s eyes spoke that she wanted more than for this meeting to end this way, but you didn’t make the move. Why? It did not seem right to do so quickly. For as adventurous as you were, and for as adventurous as she was, it did not seem the right thing to do. She didn’t make the move, either, especially not after seeing the screen on her phone flash a name that displeased her. That was something you noticed and something you kept to yourself, not wanting to pry on something you didn’t have business of knowing. It was, again, too soon for you to make that move.

There you were, lying in bed by yourself, stripped down to your home clothes and comfortable in the warmth of your home and the soothing atmosphere. The tantalizing arms of slumber almost engulfed you when all of the sudden you hear your phone sing away to notify you someone was calling. It had been just an hour after you were dropped off, the night was still young and there was plenty of time to spare before it got real late. Your hand stretched out to lazily grab your phone, bringing it up to shine on your face, but the moment your eyes read over the name your entire body actually propped up. Slowly, but it did. You answered without more hesitation.

“Mabes?”

“You’re the woman to get shit done, right?” Mabel said, a vague smile in her tone, but something wasn’t exactly right. A mixture of being happy to talk to you, but… not quite happy of having to. Or maybe she was unhappy with the reason why she had to?

It sounded like a favor coming in and you knew it like a song you’ve heard many times. But, you were in her debt for saving you before. So, with little space of silence, you replied. “Anything you need, what’s up?”

There was a small sigh before she replied: “I’m parked outside your apartment, you’re going to do just what I ask you to.”

Instinctively, you got up and looked out your window to find, lo and behold, exactly that. The woman’s red car parked right outside against the curb, the short woman outside of it with her phone up to her ear. Still dressed the way she was when she dropped you off, arms crossed and confident.

To stall for time, you asked as you fished out your clothes hastily from the nearest drawer. “Whatever you say, boss. Where we going?” You laughed, jeans on first. “I gotta know if I need to wear something fancy.”

“Wear something you can run with,” Mabel replied instead, an ounce of mischievousness permeating that tone, but firm enough to tell you she was serious. “Don’t leave your wits at home.”

You knew it then, or at least intuited it, it almost stopped you in your tracks as dread filled your gut. But you pushed it aside and trusted Mabel, trusted this may not be as bad as it sounded. In good humor, you responded:

“Good thing I put my wits’ battery to charge up when I arrived home.”

Any question asked was deflected.

“Just do as I say, okay?” It wasn’t a command, it was firm but it was somewhat shaky – like there was an ounce of plea in it.

Your trust in Mabel was slowly getting shaky, but not shakier than the bumpy road she took you to. Metaphorically, you held on tight and kept your doubts to yourself, a mouth shut was worth a lot. Literally speaking, your hand was holding onto the dashboard as the car shook you both on the way to your destination – which you had no idea about. The one true thing you knew was that you were getting far from where your place was; the night getting older and quieter as you finally reached a familiar place. Suddenly, it was like your surroundings made sense, the context felt right and you were aware of where you were.

The open parking lot spot where you and Mabel found each other for the first time, that’s where you were. A thought crossed your mind of whether or not this was just a pseudo-romantic getaway, but with what you could intuit this felt hardly the case. You both parked and turned off the car. The rumble of the engine died off, the tension filled in and silence weighed heavy.

Mabel was the first one to break the silence this time, pointing towards a lone trashcan standing just under a flickering and dying streetlight. “Here it is.”

You looked at her confused, squinting. “What?” Your eyes then glided slowly towards the trash can, observing that there was hardly a soul walking down the street or entering the nearby buildings and places. The one or two people that walked by were, at best, together and almost drunk. Maybe high, but completely insane to be walking by themselves or with just two of them. The distant barking and shouting felt familiar, the passing car here and there, the loud motorcycle roaring past you painted such a picture so strikingly different yet equal to your hometown. This picture, this scenery, you have seen it before in your life and you kept seeing it in those nightmares that looped back around to taunt you every now and then. A memory so distant, faded to the point it melted with the current time. You looked at Mabel, frowning. Your question was as neutral as you could make it sound, but confusion seeped through undiluted. “What’s going on?”

Mabel looked at you briefly, a soft (yet vaguely angry?) expression clear on her face despite the darkness engulfing both of you, save from the parking lot’s light. “Please, just do as I say.”

“Well, I think I gotta know what I’m getting into,” you replied back, still trying to sound as calm as possible.

Mabel anxiously tapped against the steering wheel, holding tightly onto it, finding it hard to talk at first. Pushing past the knot in her throat, Mabel spoke quietly. “I just have to get this done okay?”

“Mabel,” you started speaking with a soft sigh. “For as honest as you are about everything, you’re being very tight-lipped about this–.”

Mabel groaned, interrupting you. “If you’re going to be judgemental, save it–.”

“I’m not judging at all, Mabel,” you blurted out quickly to set the record straight. Then, you let the silence settle for a second, loosening up the tension built in your muscles (that you hadn’t realized was there) before proceeding. “I just need to know that you ain’t getting into serious shit. I would like to know who’s ordering this and why we’re doing this so I can save your skin should shit go down.” Straight to the point, honest. There was nothing you could do for her if you talked out of turn, fucked with the wrong kind of guys. Information was valuable right now, to save your skin and hers.

Mabel leaned against her seat and let her fingers fall from the steering wheel. “I can’t tell you who’s ordering it, but that person – that lowlife, good for nothing – owes me money and I intend to run this errand, get my money and not have to pester them for it,” Mabel said straight and clear, looking up at you. Full honesty, as much as she could muster. Quid pro quo. “After that, I’m done with them.”

The silence that befell upon you both then was a lighter one, devoid of the tension, as the context sank and painted the picture vividly. It was less hostile, but still a rather complicated atmosphere. Whoever it was you didn’t need to know, and frankly the rest was more than enough. What you knew for certain was that this was business, shady and coated in the dangerous miasma that was the crimelife. Something you both have staunchly tried to reject. Let us be candid here, you could walk away right now and let Mabel deal with this on her own, but she trusted you enough to accompany her and be her heavy muscle in case something happened. Yet the possibility of her betraying you and using you as shield was imminent, it was there standing afar in the darkness of your mind. That little muscle in your brain, the instinct of surviving in the dog-eat-dog world that is – that was – your life, kicked up and told you to make a choice.

And you choose to gamble. 

You decided to stick with this hand you had and felt confident that you could wiggle out should hell break loose right before your eyes. Make no mistake, you would be disappointed with the outcome, but you would make it out by any means necessary.

With a sigh and a nod, you felt around your pockets. “Alright, I can work with that. What’s the plan?”

Mabel looked at you, eyes less angry and stern. An ounce of vulnerability appeared in them for a flash of a second before it went away with the chilly wind. Quickly, she composed herself and responded, pointing to the backseat. “We get this package in the trash can, we wait for the people to come get it, they leave the payment, we get it and we leave.”

You nodded a little, lips pouted. A standard exchange in your opinion, nothing flashy or particularly dangerous, but it required mutual respect and a good sense from both parties to not fuck it up. But Mabel’s own words were laced with a venom of hatred. “Let me guess, you don’t trust it,” you paused and looked at her, noticing her hands had gotten back to gripping the steering wheel tightly. The subtle anger twitching under her eye too quickly to be noticed. “You don’t trust it at all.”

Deeply breathing in, Mabel shook her head. “I never trust when this person makes me run errands.”

That’s something you could empathize with, it made you dryly chuckle. “Ain’t that a bitch,” and that was that. You didn’t ask more questions, you didn’t feel like knowing who the hell it was. You just kept your trap shut and let her choose the time and place to tell you, if she ever wanted to say it, because you didn’t know just who this was to her. As curious as you were, you let it go, putting another question up front in favor of moving the conversation along. “You want me to go out there and put it in myself?”

Mabel was gritting her teeth a little, you could tell by the way her jaw was clenching, but she soon let it go and shook her head. “I don’t want you getting mixed up in it. Just… be on the lookout in case something happens.”

Mabel knew that if shit went wrong, your face would be printed permanently in their brains. That is no way to start your life over, and you could understand her gesture even if she felt in danger enough to call you. A tacit confession of trust that did not go unnoticed. You nodded simply. “I got you, don’t worry.”

Her eyes slowly looked up at you, almost as if she didn’t quite register what you said at first. You looked at her when you noticed, feeling connected to her gaze and unable to look away from them. Electrifying waves ran down your spine the moment you looked into those eyes, and you could swear you could feel it washing down her body as well behind her jacket. Your own denim jacket suddenly got too hot to use, the hoodie beneath it providing way more warmth than it usually did, the atmosphere totally changed from that tension before to…

Something powerful, unadulterated, but interrupted.

 The moment was cut short by the watch on her wrist beeping away at the swift and true minute. The two of you had a job to do first.

Mabel got out of her car wordlessly, package in hand, and walked the distance that seemed to stretch out further and further. You, on the other hand, watched quietly from your position with your eyes peeled. Not being familiar with the territory, your instinct made you figure out different ways to attack, different ways to flee, different ways shit could go wrong. Hell, you even instinctively checked the glove compartment to find anything useful, finding only a taser much to your chagrin. Still useful, but something that required close proximity.

“I can gamble that,” you mumbled to yourself and hoped you didn’t have to use it.

Mabel placed the package in the trash can swiftly and quickly, starting to make her way back to the car. Yet, your eyes caught that from the shadows of a nearby alleyway emerged someone, like the claws of darkness had just set them free to run wild in the concrete jungle. A dark green hoodie that covered the person’s features, counting on shadows casted by the dying light of the streetlight to obscure most of it, but the port and the walk told you everything you wanted to know. Call it a freakish intuition from many deals gone wrong, but this man was about to make a mad dash without paying a single thing, probably banking on the fact that he was taller and had longer legs than Mabel to get away with it.

And he could, he truly could if you didn’t hurry.

“Motherfu–!” There was little hesitation, jumping out of the vehicle without saying a word before Mabel could even ask anything. Her eyes followed you, mouth just barely forming a word before you ran right past her to your destination. And you were right, the man reached down to grab the package and was starting to take off without motioning to place any damn money in its place. When Mabel registered what she was witnessing, she took off right after you. Perhaps the rage or the adrenaline made your strides faster, but within seconds you intercepted the running man before he could even garner any speed. Your body and his collided violently, the sheer speed bringing you both down on ground level where you had an advantage on top of him. The impact made a painful sound just like him, the package flying from his hands and sliding far from the two of you – way out of arm’s reach before anyone of you could even dare to fight for it. 

The struggle was quick but it felt like it took you a while. He tried to fight, to free his hands from your weight to use them to push you, but you didn’t let it, instead grabbing them and getting him on his back right where you wanted him.

“Get off me!” The man exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of your grip. But the more he struggled, the firmer your grip. You straddled him, stretched out his arm and held his hands down and stared squarely into his eyes. Another lowlife like you used to be, but this one came alone. Either he was dumb, confident or with a trick up his sleeves. “You fucking bitch!”

“At least you know who I am,” you muttered, briefly glancing over at Mabel who was grabbing the package that had slipped the man’s fingers. “You got it, boss?” You asked Mabel, sure to never say her name aloud.

She walked on over to you, staring down at the guy. “I got it,” she said with a sigh, her free hand on her hips. “I checked the trash, the money isn’t there.”

“Huh,” you said almost sarcastically, staring square at him with a subtle smile. “I wonder where that money is. Do you know where our money is, little guy?”

The guy had given up on trying to wiggle out of it, instead resorted to snark to make up for it. “Well, the bitch wised up at the very fucking least.”

All the snark did was get you confused, lightly furrowing your brow with your eyes still laser focused on the target. “What bitch? Sure as hell not me.”

But Mabel kept quiet on it. There’s something that changed in the air when the man said that and you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was or who he was referring to at first.

The man only lowly chuckled at that. “Not you, you look dumber than a rock,” the man said, lifting his head to get closer to your own.

With a brief, tight smile you quickly swung your head towards him; your forehead to his nose bridge, colliding painfully for him and making him embarrassingly quiet and docile after it. Not without a few quiet mumbles cursing you and your family of course. Par for the course.

Another question for later, you supposed, but for the time being you looked at Mabel and subtly signaled her to start looking. Starting by checking the man’s socks. With no words spoken between the two of you, she understood and moved swiftly before the man could even dare to think of kicking his legs everywhere. A quick search with Mabel’s grip against his ankles and…

“Nothing here,” Mabel said, letting his ankles go and moving far back before he tried to do anything.

You looked at Mabel who shrugged and you side eyed the groggy man. “At least you didn’t hide them in the worst place possible,” you said as you grabbed him by his shirt and propped him up to stand on his feet. Before he could even wiggle out of your grip, you took the taser out and held it against his neck. One look at it and he held his hands out and held still. Was it accepting defeat? Was it because he was afraid of tasers? This puzzled you, because a taser wasn’t nearly enough. He was stupid, but not THAT stupid… but that mere knowledge connected the dots. He wasn’t dumb, he was somewhat confident, just a little annoyed and unsure of this situation, but you still wondered if there was something up his sleeve.

“Fuck you,” he retorted. 

You smiled just a tad though, eyes still fixated on him and not even offering a reply in return. Without being told to, Mabel started to search for the money on him as you held him tight in place, working quick magic and soon fishing out the small bag of cash from his pants. “Got it,” Mabel said quickly, putting the suspicious package in its place. “A deal’s a deal.”

“You could’ve easily avoided being humiliated like this if you had simply just given us the money,” you cheekily said, giving Mabel time to secure the money bag on herself before even thinking of letting the man go. Yet, when you saw his eyes break contact with yours to look behind you.

You knew trouble then, and this time Mabel caught wind of it, too.

“Shit–.” You pushed the man away hastily and turned to make a run for it just like Mabel was doing. Just before your eyes were two men running towards you and while Mabel made the smart decision to circle around them, taking the advantage of surprise to her favor. Yet, one of the men nearest to her reached out and you could truly see it in slow motion, how his fingers stretched and were about to close around her jacket to yank her back. His arm was long enough for that. If she were to be in his grip, it could get ugly.

You did the only thing you could do at that short distance, which was launch yourself against him and bulldoze right through his plan, shoulder to his chest with no regards for not harming him – adrenaline shooting through to ensure your survival and Mabel’s. He was pushed out of the way, falling and nearly tripping his friend who still tailed behind you both as you dashed through to the car. That elongated distance that you once saw Mabel traverse suddenly felt like it mockingly stretched even longer as you both made a run for it, matching footsteps and angry commands being shouted across the desolate parking lot. The only words you could make out were: “Leave them!”

Against your better judgment, you looked behind you to notice the only man chasing you was the one you didn’t knock over. And he was FAST, closing the distance between you and Mabel fast. The other guys had quit, probably wising up that the deal was done – even if it was a bit violent at first, but this one guy just couldn’t let it go.

“I think he likes us a great deal!” You laughed out, probably at the worst time. C’mon, there’s always time for some humor. Still, you quickly added on: “Get to the car, Boss,” you commanded Mabel, stopping dead in your tracks and shifting your direction to run straight towards the man who had not accounted for this sudden change.

Collision, two strong bodies meeting violently at the top of their speed. It was, perhaps not the highlight of your life in combat, but it was enough for the two of you to indecorously fall to the ground. Mabel had entered the car, was just about to start that roaring engine; you had gotten up faster than him, hand reaching in your pocket when you saw him moving fast to catch you. “Let it go, man!” You tried, lunging back against his reach, but when he didn’t stop you fished that taser out and jabbed it against his greedy hand, shocking him instantly. It wasn’t pretty to see his entire body tense up that way against his will, the scream of pain was not at all fun, but it incapacitated him enough for you to make a run for it. 

“Quick!” Mabel shouted out, engine roaring to go.

“On it, boss!” You replied instantly, sliding across the hood of the car and wasting little time to jump right into the passenger seat.

The moment you got in, Mabel said: “I’m going to kill you if you dent the car.”

“Not if they kill us first, boss,” you chuckled out.

Mabel couldn’t even make a remark to it, rolling her eyes and stepping on the gas. The car moved faster than it’s ever had, whipping fast and gliding smoothly out of the parking lot like it wasn’t a huge cage of metal. Mabel focused on the road as she maneuvered the way out; you looked back and watched them desist the chase entirely the moment the car was out of their vicinity. The sigh of relief didn’t come out of you until you looked at the money sitting between Mabel’s legs. Only then you let that relief escape through an exhale.

You were relieved but Mabel was a different story. The tenseness in Mabel’s fingers, the tightlip, the furrow of her brows; she was still angry about something, and the clenched jaw was not going to tell you shit about it.

In an attempt to ease up the tension, you chuckled out. “Now you can kill me if I dented the car.”

Mabel rolled her eyes just a little, a twinge of playfulness evident on them. “I’m serious, I hope you didn’t damage it.”

“I didn’t, I got that shit down to a science,” you shook your head, preemptively looking back just in case. 

“Oh yeah?” Mabel could feel herself smiling a little now. “Went over many cars?”

“Dented a few of mine even,” you quickly responded with a laugh. “My cars suffered so that yours didn’t have to.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead with you, is it,” Mabel said with light sarcasm and laughing, poking you and getting you to laugh as well.

A nice shared laugh that helped smoothen out the crease of stress and rage, easing the adrenaline down and getting it to quieten. Danger was gone, there was no need for it at the moment.

You adjusted in your seat, putting the taser back in the glove compartment as you thought out what to say next. The atmosphere was lighter now, the playful jokes could keep coming but the curiosity in you poked and prodded incessantly in your gut, enough to even consider asking outright what happened back there and who made her do this. But such a question was too strong, too invasive. Tactfully, you rephrased it, you re-worded it, you tossed it out there like bait for her to grab.

All encompassed in a simple question: 

“What happened back there?”

Mabel briefly looked at you, noticing that you were staring right into her eyes. With a sigh, she pulled the car over against the curb – in a neighborhood unfamiliar to you, but quiet and desolate. Hands off the steering wheel, view down, you thought Mabel was about to start talking but instead her hands went down to the bag of cash. In total silence she examined it, and you didn’t say anything or press on further, just intrigued as to what was happening.

Emanating from her was tension, an aura of unease nearly hotboxing the damn car you were in. Her fingers and thumb counter through the bills then they stopped. No movement at all for a moment that felt like it was that long second before a bomb would go off. Agonizing, tortuous, then…

“This fucking–.”

Mabel’s hand moved fast, her foot stomped on the gas and the car took off as furiously as she felt.

You would get your answers soon enough. Or better yet, you would witness them.

You learned that Mabel truly hated, yet loved her mother; Mabel learned that she could trust you to understand this complicated dynamic well.

The car glided smoothly along the curb, stopping abruptly in front of a beat-up apartment complex. You could barely look at its slim tallness, its rundown state, the quiet streets surrounding it, before Mabel killed the engine off with a swift flick of her wrist and jumped out. The only word that had come out of Mabel’s mouth was unintelligible, muffled and muted with contained anger – yet your instinct told you that she had asked you to stay put…

But you couldn’t stay put.

You wondered if Mabel was aware that you also got out of the car, following right behind her quietly like a partner in crime that knew their place. You wondered if she considered stopping you and demanding you to stay put, if she subtly made her command unintelligible on purpose or if it was a subconscious decision.

Whatever you were even thinking of became white noise the moment Mabel opened the door of that apartment and walked in like it was her home. 

Because it was her home.

Firm and quick footsteps felt every bit as angry as Mabel looked. It made the floor creak and shake and when you hesitantly stepped in after her you feared that it would break beneath you. There was barely any time to look around the space, trying to catch up to the hurried steps of a woman about to go down in flames and take someone with her, but you could only see a mundane home that felt oddly cold at every step.

What you witnessed was perhaps the most consistent answer you have ever seen in your life, puzzle pieces falling in place tacitly when you realized that the person who made Mabel run this errand was none other than her mother – a drug peddler that, by the looks of it, was at work. The moment you walked into that living room you heard Mabel go off trying to find her mother, while you stuck behind to observe. You were familiar with this set up. Well, not too familiar but acquaintanced enough to know not to touch a thing you were looking at. A bunch of chemicals, tools, plastic bags, paper bags and a scale. Your gaze looked up as you heard Mabel barge into a room and shout, just barely muffled by the walls. A little girl, just quietly drawing and trying her best not to be uneasy by your presence. The poor thing must have been here before, because she tried her best to ignore it. When she finally saw you, you gave her a tightlipped smile. You were getting the picture.

“This isn’t even what you fully owe me!”

That was one of the very few things you could make out, especially with the other voice speaking a lot more calmly than Mabel’s, but it didn’t sound quite good. Mabel’s voice raised in frustration and she walked out of that room, a woman following behind her trying to convince her that she would pay her back fully later on.

Mabel turned around, completely ignoring you. “Let me guess, you’re going to get it for me in the form of another nearly botched deal?”

The woman looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, then down at Mabel. “What are you being dramatic about?”

Uh oh.

“That guy you were gonna deal with? Nearly ran out on us with the goods without fucking paying, that’s what I’m being dramatic about.”

You, with your hands in your pocket and just braving this uncomfortable situation stood by Mabel. Not just to show your support physically but frankly because that girl looked like she would jump at her mother and claw her eyes out. Nothing a strong grip and a bit of communication can’t fix. 

Mabel’s mother rolled her eyes, hands taking off her gloves in exasperation. No words, not a single excuse coming out of her mouth.

On the other hand, the shorter girl crossed her arms and spoke firmly. “So you were sending me to what? Get pummeled to death for the money YOU owe me?”

“It’s not like that,” her mother retorted exhaustedly, like she was tired of Mabel’s tantrum even though Mabel had a good point. “You’re being too fucking dramatic–.”

“Don’t swear in front of the child!” You and Mabel said at the same time, in complete unison. It surprised you both, making you look at each other for a brief moment. You opted to not speak after, letting Mabel take over. “This is the last time I run an errand for you, and you STILL owe me the rest.”

Her mother shrugged and sighed, minimizing the situation even with her body language. “What’s one more week? I’ll get it. But how am I going to get your money if you don’t run the errands–.”

“Find someone else to do them for you,” Mabel said with finality, starting to turn around to leave.

Her mother, on the other hand, just acted like Mabel was being incredibly irrational, throwing her hands up like she was so confused. “Ungrateful fucking child,” she said out loud.

“Stop swearing in front of the kid,” you said almost instantly, but this time you said it alone. Mabel had already opened the front door and slammed it shut to signify the end of her conversation with her mother.

But you stood there, looking at this woman in the eye to see true delusion painted all over her hues. Carved in the finer details of her eyes was manipulation and a penchant for caring mostly about herself. An ounce of familiarity oozed in them, unfortunately, like you have seen these eyes before and it was disappointing to see that. You planned to leave too, just walk away without saying a thing. But…

“And who are you?” Her mother asked.

You stopped to look at her, confused. “What?”

“Who are you? Do you not have a name? Or are you a piece of ass for her?”

“Excuse your mouth,” you said instantly after her, eyeing the little child who innocently looked at everything unfolding. That look of naivety that you treasured and yearned to protect. Ah, you were tempted to do more than just put her in her place politely but bereft of the liberty to do so you knew that your place was back next to Mabel, who probably needed company. “How much do you owe the girl?”

The mother grabbed a fresh new set of gloves while shaking her head rapidly. “I gave her everything she has, I shouldn’t owe her.”

“But you do,” you firmly spoke, body fully facing her and addressing her directly. You no longer had intentions to walk away. “So, how much?”

“Kid, why don’t yo–.”

“How much?!” You said firmly and louder, cutting her off and making her every move stop. 

She looked at you through the corner of her eyes, with a vague anger at your insistence and tempted to make you pay for any ounce of defiance. However, you stood your ground and didn’t back away from the stare down. “Fifty bucks,” she relented. “I can pay it back in a week–.”

“Don’t bother,” you groaned, rolling your eyes once you understood. It’s not like her mother couldn’t pay her. Her mother was dangling that little thing over Mabel’s head to keep her coming back, keep her daughter in her life. Was it because it was beneficial to have someone to manipulate? Was it because Mabel was so close to having a life for herself and her mother envied that? You couldn’t know for sure. “I’ll pay her and tell her it was you.”

“No!” Her mother replied instantly. “This is between her and me, you stay away from it.”

You raised your finger at her and held yourself back from insulting her in front of her child. “You keep your mouth shut about it, and she’s out of your hair,” you said in a strained voice that kept some of that pent-up anger away, but you were firm nonetheless.

You two stared at each other, like you knew one another somewhat. You understood that she was in fact holding money back from Mabel to keep her around; she understood that you knew her trick because you had been here before. Above all, she understood that you weren’t going to fall for any tactic.

With nothing more to say, you pulled back and looked at the little girl once last time. This time, your face switched to try and appear calmer, more friendly. You smiled at the little girl, hoping she didn’t see it as a grimace. Then, you walked away.

Coming out of that apartment felt like you could finally breathe again, fresh air clashing against your face as you walked out of the complex and onto the streets. Breathing life, surrounded by nothing and no one.

No one, not even Mabel. 

You realized then, Mabel drove away without you, leaving no trace of herself at all. Initial disappointment washed you over, but it faded to give rational thought its place. Mabel was probably angry, embarrassed, unsure of how to face up to you after this encounter. A strong woman like her probably felt reduced to nothing by her mother’s manipulative tactics, like a child once again; Mabel probably couldn’t fathom being this vulnerable in front of someone she just met, especially after she insisted that she appreciated and loved honesty above everything.

But you understood it. You understood that Mabel’s honesty had a limit that she didn’t realize existed. When it came to her mother she kept things to herself, perhaps with shame or fear that it would push the sane people away from her life – afraid that it’s indecorous for the new life she yearned for. Afraid that it might call her bluff as a tough woman who could take care of herself. 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, mentally preparing yourself for the walk to your home. Not angry at Mabel, not even disappointed, just rolling with the punches and preparing for how you were going to encounter her next.

Jamming your fist into the pockets of your jacket, you set to walk the chilly night away by yourself.

Pondering, thinking, planning…

Until that woman walked in. That tint permeating your view seemed to slowly bleed away the moment Mabel entered your vision – like she carried the colors of the world around her and opened your eyes to a brand new perspective. 

You never minded the dull colors, but this? This was a view you could get used to.

Quietly, with a clear cup hanging loose in your hands, you observed this woman whenever you could. Your head tried to subtly move away from the occasional person blocking your view, trying to discern what was about this woman that you enjoyed so much every time you saw her. Despite her stature, her demeanor commanded respect and attention, her imposing nature drawing you in like she was a rockstar in the making. You couldn’t look away, you didn’t want to look away.

Not since that fascinating incident where the two of you met.

In your defense, you had no idea how you got in the middle of such a fucking disaster, alright? Butt seated on the plastic chair that felt like it was going to break at any moment, quietly drinking your soda at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning, the warm sunshine rays seeping through the windows of the Supreme Donuts. You were just there, eating and pondering whether that smudge on the wall was dried blood or a horribly cleaning job. You minded your own business, the way you knew to always do it, despite curiously looking about. Frankly, you couldn’t help yourself. This place was still new, your instinct to keep vigilant was hard to muffle.

Then before you know it, some group of dudes with bats and a lot of things to yell walked right into the quiet atmosphere, disrupting it with no respect or regards for anyone else that sat around you – not the commoners, not the little kids, not the elderly. The disrespectful nature of hoodlums and drug peddlers that you knew far too well; the aggressive nature of their world that you walked away from not ten months before this moment. People started to bleed out of the establishment in hurried steps, but you only started to move when the first bat hit the first, poor sucker right on the head. That’s when a violent conflict was turning into murder and you didn’t want jackshit to do with it. The way you got up and was fixing to walk away was quick, like you were taught to do, but one of them – probably high off their fucking rocks – tried and grabbed you. God knows why, god knows how. With all the yelling, all the commotion, all the smashing about, the person who grabbed you had just plain bad luck just like you. 

Your fist flew, landed square on the man’s jaw, and he was out for the count. But then, like it was a fucking comedy skit, all the people previously fighting looked at you. A new face in town that had “fresh meat” written all over it – someone who, they thought, couldn’t keep their mouth shut. Suddenly, most of them started to chase your tail and you booked it.

You booked it like you were that kid back home who had the rotten luck to witness a shady business go down in flames. Some things never change, you thought to yourself in laughter while your feet stomped the ground in flee.

You ran into people you were likely to never see again, pushed past the groggy folks down the sidewalk, dashed right into alleyways you would never dare to venture into under normal circumstances. Obstacles were jumped, property was pulled, pushed and broken as you made a mad dash for your life – the ravenous folks with bats and brass knuckles tailing you but falling behind as their anger subsided and their focus calibrated back to what they were supposed to be doing.

The sting started to settle in your lungs, your legs weren’t kicking as fast as they once did at the top of the chase, bated breath was getting too erratic to continue. The sprint turned into a jog, then it got lighter and lighter until you reached a parking lot that was quiet and nearly deserted. With no one around to witness you (or so you thought), you acted quick as you heard the mad men hollering from afar and getting closer. 

Your mistake (or blessing?) was to single out a nice, red vehicle parked so lonely, surrounded by nothing. You didn’t think twice to dash on over and try the doors, finding the driver’s window wide open for you to even unlock the doors and get in. With no time to even dream of driving this vehicle away yourself (no, you would not be stealing – you would be BORROWING it!), you settled for entering the backseat of the car and lay there until you heard the maddening trample and hollers of bloodthirsty hoodlums fade out. There was never a moment in your life where you prayed, but this was that moment.

With luck, they all moved past the car without thinking twice and within thirty seconds you were completely clear. It wasn’t until then that you realized you were holding your breath, tensed muscles coiled beyond what you thought possible, all of it released in laughter that you could not control.

You live to fight another day in this cool, desaturated perspective of yours.

Then the door at your feet abruptly opened to reveal the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. A gorgeous face, sprinkled with freckles, her features scrunched in anger that somehow looked adorable to you. Even in that split second that stretched on for what felt like an hour (were these the remnants of adrenaline?), you could tell that the woman was shorter than you, or at least smaller in frame, but the aura around her was strong, like you shouldn’t mess with this woman. And yet, it was like a ray of sunshine just before your eyes, the strong colors of that world seeping into your view and – for the first time – kicking a new sensation into your exhausted mind and body.

“What the FUCK are you doing?” 

Well, those were, perhaps, not the best few words to start a conversation with. And maybe her clawing grip at your ankle was not the best way to establish an acquaintanceship. With a strength that you wouldn’t really expect from a woman of her stature and build, she pulled at your leg and forcefully tried to get you to get the hell out of her car.

“Hey, hey!” you interjected, willingly opting to get out of the car. Your hands raised to show her you weren’t trying anything as you sat up. “Calm down, lady!”

“The fuck were you doing in my car?” She shouted again, grabbing you by your shirt the moment you were up, dragging you (with your help) out of the car then pushing you against it. Damn, those hands gripped at your collar with a vehemence stronger than the men chasing you. “Answer me, the fuck were–.”

“Relax,” you tried again, pulling her strong grip away from you. “I was being chased, give me a fucking break.”

Only after that, she quietened down. Her jaw clenched and you could see it, but her eyes went from fiery rage to a smoother, more compassionate stern look. God, you could drown in those eyes, you stared right into them at first to show that you were honest, but now you found yourself just… utterly lost on them. Those eyes of hers traveled up and down your face and you could swear, even if it’s for a brief moment, that they end up stationed in your lips before darting back up to your eyes. A moment, then another, total silence, the adrenaline and the rage slowly starting to deplete. Only then she started to loosen her grip on your shirt and coat, her stern eyes still judging yet… oddly curious.

With a sigh, you released your own tension and fixed your attire, catching your breath from all that running and all the threat that you were just subjected to. “Thank you,” you said first, briefly pausing before you continued. “I didn’t mean to get in your car.”

“You kind of did anyways,” she replied instantly, making distance between you and her now, eyes unable to stop looking at you from bottom to top. “Who did you get in trouble with?”

Cracking the muscles in your neck, you grimaced. “I didn’t get in no trouble, I was just… in the wrong donut place at the wrong time of the day.”

It wasn’t intended to be funny, yet you could see the slightest tug on the corner of the lady’s lip at it. She quickly snuffed it, her expression turning more and more neutral. “Fresh face, huh?”

“How could you tell?” You asked, not expecting an answer really. 

“You look like trouble, but not the sort of trouble from these areas,” she said straight, arms crossing over her chest. 

Well, normally people wouldn’t like being called trouble, but it brought a smirk to your tired face. “I guess my face is just constructed that way, can’t get rid of it now,” you joked, holding your shoulder and moving it a bit. Soreness started to kick in, and the feeling that you truly wouldn’t escape this life of being surrounded by shitty people also started to kick in. Absentmindedly, you merely said. “I ain’t about that life anymore, but I guess I’m still going to get caught up in shit.”

That was way more honest than you intended and yet, the woman looked at you favorably. A quiet nod, simple but effective, a gesture that meant that she understood you and what you meant – an unintended connection with a stranger who you thought was going to beat you to death for entering her car. “Ain’t that the fucking truth.”

You chuckled a bit, looking around and finally bouncing off her car to stand up straight. “I think I’m in the clear now, unless they are smarter than I think they are.”

But the woman just quietly observed you for an extended moment, head tilted and pondering something in her mind before she squarely asked. “What’s your name?” she asked you, tilting her chin up towards you rather quickly. It was commanding.

A difficult question that made you slide your hands into your pockets. “Depends, you want to know who I am now or who I once was?” You said with a small laugh, in good humor.

As cheeky as that was, it finally tugged a chuckle out of her too. “I get it, don’t give your name to strangers and stuff–.”

“Hey, nothing personal, okay?” You laughed more clearly now. “I had to wise up real quick.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “But I ain’t afraid. I’m Mabel.”

Mabel, you could hear that name echo in your brain. The beauty had a name now. You fished your hand out of your pocket and held it out to her, offering to shake her hand. Yet, there was a moment of hesitation. A moment where she looked at it and almost debated whether or not to open this possible friendship, whether or not to trust you and… what you were saying.

In her eyes she bore that look of someone who was once hurt and treads through life carefully, not afraid but cautious. You knew the look far too well, but you hold your hand out there for her to make the move. 

She relented at last, sighing and holding your hand. It was electrifying the moment your hand touched her, it shocked the hairs all over your body awake and made them stand in attention. Firmly, she shook it, accepting your offer of a casual acquaintanceship, accepting the probability that it might open her up to something more.

And just before you were about to say your name, the hollering of madmen started back up, making you and Mabel turn to the sound instantly. The group was walking back to reach their destination, probably to decimate the donut shop a lot more than they did, when they turned the corner and saw you (and Mabel) in the parking lot just chatting. One of them called you out, and the others followed. When one ran, the others followed suit like a group of bulls ready to trample you down for everything you’re worth.

“Shit!” Mabel muttered under her breath, grabbing you by your coat again before you could even think to run away. “Get in the fucking car.”

“What?!”

“Just fucking do it!” Mabel shouted back, entering the driver’s seat and starting up her car in haste.

You wasted no time and got back into the backseat, closing the door, locking it and pulling all the windows up as fast as you could. The mob of bloodthirsty fuckfaces got closer and closer, the stomping got louder and louder, but Mabel was faster than them. The car pulled out of the parking spot quick and smoothly before they could even reach it, dashing right off the parking lot. Yet, they still tried to chase the two of you, throwing their bats at your direction but failing to make any damage.

“Holy shit, they’re angry,” you laughed, looking back.

“Yeah, they can get like that,” Mabel laughed in return. “Hold on tight.”

You barely had time to grab hold of anything before you felt the car violently swerve the corner, barely kissing the curb before dashing straight off effectively losing the chasers. You saw them give up at the turn of the corner, knowing you were too far for them to even dream of making it. 

“We lost ‘em, baby,” you announced, sighing in relief. “Don’t crash us into a pole though,” you joked, starting to crawl to the passenger seat. 

“Let this be the first and only time I save your neck,” Mabel said, intending to be stern in her approach, and she was at the cusp of getting it! But some unspoken fondness betrayed her tone as she swerved past stationed cars.

Now cozy in the passenger seat, you melted and chuckled. “Y’know, you didn’t have to,” you pointed out, looking at her. You found her looking at you already, even for a brief moment before she directed her eyes back on the road. “But thank you,” you finally said honestly, your tone lower and more honest. No cheekiness, no playfulness, just honesty.

And it seemed she understood that, a soft smile almost creeping on her lips before she stopped it. A nod of acknowledgement and it was almost gone, but when you finally shared your name, that soft smile couldn’t be stopped.

Face to face, gaze connected, Mabel and you had a brief stare-off in complete silence, standing before one another. You looked down at her, she looked up to you, a distance that felt so agonizingly stretched despite being a little less than an arm’s length. This was the first time the two of you met since that incident, since she dropped you off and bid you farewell – no phone number exchanged, no address. Mabel left it all to chance, wanting to see if the world conspired in her favor to meet you again. 

The world around you blurred, the cacophony of chatter and bass-filled music all muffled and nonsense now, like it was all gibberish to begin with. Her clear cup was filled, your clear cup was filled; in silence but with a complicit smile, you raised your cup in cheers. With a matching complicit smile, she raised her cup to bump against yours.

The Setup:

Picture this: You are a thrill seeker, an artist with an addiction to getting into trouble and damn good at getting away with things.

Your past is irrelevant, but you're not a stranger to the underbelly of the city and those who tiptoe around it.

The streets know you, and you know the streets just as much.

Hell, some folks even respect you and contact you when they want shit done.

Think of it as an errand girl who works for no one but who you want to work with.

Sometimes, you just got information people need and that gets you paid enough.

You are also a fucking Vampire.

That's right, you are a Vampire. But you can smell and eat garlic, you can regenerate your wounds AND transform into a rat...

You were not born, you were MADE. How? That's a mystery to you, a blurry memory that refuses to clear up.

Your life has only changed in the way you operate, now you truly cannot be fucked with. But no one knows how dangerous you can be.

You met Ana Lucia Cruz (Er, Joey for some of you folks) the one time you agreed to work with people you didn't know. She was one of them.

You took one look at her and you knew that she was certainly a professional -- if not one already, then in the making.

Her posture spoke to you, like she was once something serious, but her eyes were a tell-tale sign of deep tragedy that she could not dig herself out of.

"What are you looking at?" was her first ever question to you.

A question you left unanswered.

You didn't know it at the time, but that woman read you like an open book the moment she laid eyes on you.

You were right too, she was serious business the moment this little "Mission" started. She was efficient in her movement, precise and intelligent. Her strong presence made her the defacto leader of this small team and you were more than happy to let her do it. After all, you weren't fond of playing along.

And of course that did not sit well with the third guy that tagged along.

This errand almost went to shit thanks to him.

That only meant that you and Ana quickly had to learn how to work together.

Let us be frank, you two weren't exactly in tune. You made a joke, she glared at you. She spoiled some of your ideas for fun, you got annoyed. She was too professional and you were too sloopy. But that was nothing getting ambushed mid-mission wouldn't quickly fix.

In that moment, you had to rely on each other like you were both born partners, and pretending paid dividends.

She commanded, you followed. You led, she followed without hesitation. You trusted her instinct, she trusted your knowledge of the streets and your experience in this turbulent underworld. When you felt yourself getting reckless with the excitement of danger, she put you straight and focused. When you needed the help, she helped you.

Whether the two of you doubted each other at any point, it became irrelevant when danger stalked close.

Interestingly, hiding your vampire powers was always tough in these jobs. Sometimes you and whoever was with you needed it to get out of a pickle, so there were times where you had to -- as weak as these powers were and as inexperienced as you were!

Hey, it's not like you liked using your Vampire powers to get out of situations either! Where was the fun in that, after all.

But with Ana it was like you didn't need to use them, like she could take care of herself.

At the end of that little errand, it was just the two of you who got richer while that arrogant doofus got himself killed.

You two didn't know each others name. But you knew each other's patterns, the way you moved, the way you thought.

She walked away with her cut and you wondered if you would meet again.

Before the events of Abigail (2024):

You did.

This time, she got a hold of you directly. Face to face, no middleman to give you both a mission.

She needed information and you were the only person she could reliable get it from.

But there was something hidden in there.

Behind the straight, professional mannerism, you found her standing closer to you, looking into your eyes less sharply like she did before, finding those round orbs of hers trailing down to your lips for a second too long.

Her voice was quieter, trying to sound stern but inevitably tiptoeing back to camaraderie.

She felt different too, like she was more receptive to your little jokes than before. You could almost tell she fought a smile and a chuckle, but she wouldn't let up.

When she got what she was looking for, she bid farewell.

"Hey," you began, letting the alleyway carry your voice in echoes. "I don't even get your number?"

She didn't even turn around to meet your gaze, walking away as she said: "I'll find you when I want you."

Not need, but a want.

The way to sum up your, er, partnership is simple.

You mutually benefitted each other in more ways than one, not just in "business."

It was, after all, a rather cut-throat world out there. As professional as she was, there was something rather undeniable that she felt within you. It kept her coming over to visit, just to check on you. It eventually got her to the point where you both did share each other's name. First name, at least.

But this time, the energy in the air was different, charged with a different kind of tension that the two of you have grown accustomed to. The atmosphere was less frantic, experimental and unsure, leaning more towards secure, calculated and passionate.

Unattended notes and books laid in Wednesday’s desk, notes half written and deductions half deduced – standing idle, a mystery remained unsolved while Wednesday indulged into something she had avoided addressing for long enough. Across from her desk was your own little desk, on it laid an envelope filled with documents ready for you to examine them. 

A manila folder barely touched, for when you arrived at Wednesday’s mansion and reached the library, she had pushed aside her documents and walked over to you before you could even glance at them. 

But let us not get too ahead of ourselves. Let us start from the beginning.

Wednesday expected you, since she called you herself to talk about a new potential case, but at this dark hour and under this weather, Wednesday had been waiting for more time than she expected. Bad weather, bad traffic, the whole works, but when you finally appeared, her mind was no longer thinking about the case. Instead, her mind and eyes wandered at your figure as you walked into the library. 

Wet leather gloves in hand, drying the light sprinkles of rain away from your face, dressed in the usual red sweater with black trousers. The common look you often had, but something that Wednesday found herself fond of a little more than before, quietly observing with her proper and unmoving posture. Already eternally bored with a case she knew was open and shut, she decided to indulge in something else for the evening. Besides, it was already too late to go out and do anything fun besides theorizing. 

Instead of greeting you with any reprimand or anything, Wednesday stopped right in front of you, looking up at you with those sharp, round eyes. The void of her black eyes was glistening, with the reflection of the fireplace’s fire. You stopped when she stopped, in total silence before you spoke out.

“Everything okay, Wens?” Your voice was soft as if to avoid disturbing the atmosphere Wednesday had curated for her library, a hand reaching to pull and look at your sweater, seeing if it was damp anywhere.

“You are going to catch a cold,” she said directly, a furrowed brow of concern ever so present. “Did not know how unruly the weather was when I told Thing to text you.” There was a missing apology in there somewhere, but the concern for your well being was read in between the fine lines.

You laughed a little, placing the gloves on the desk and looking at the damp spot in your shirt. “I don’t mind, Wens,” you reassured her. “Anything for the thrill of a good mystery,” you smiled big.

“Unfortunately, I have looked into the case and it seems very standard,” Wednesday looked down at you briefly, already hinting at something that you could understand. She looked back up at you and continued speaking. “You can still look it over and tell me your opinion.”

You eyed the envelope in your desk, tempted to have a look and see why her assessment was such. It was not uncommon for you and Wednesday to look over a fresh case together and decide, unanimously, that this was a piece of cake. And therefore, a very boring case. Yet, you could always have a look and see if Wednesday missed something in the rare chance she may have judged too quickly.

But she interjected with a quick statement. “I recommend you dry that up before you get sick,” she breathed in, tugging at your sweater as her eyes scanned it. A subtle move that was rather simple from Wednesday, who often didn’t touch. “I do not want a sick partner to drag around, it’ll only slow me down.”

A conflictive statement that did not match her eyes or touch, but something quintessentially Wednesday that brought a soft smile out of you. You gave in, however, pulling away from her space and walking towards your desk.

“Did you not hear me–.”

“I heard you,” you said loosely, cutting Wednesday off and peering into her glare. A glare not too strong, so you gave her a small smile. The curiosity of the case had gripped you already, and it made you wonder why Wednesday thought this was open and shut, so you really did not care to dry up. 

The prospect of Wednesday constantly poke and prod about how you will get sick of pneumonia and die (as per her usual humor) was not as tantalizing as the mystery so you decided to reach a good middle ground. You took your sweater off, grabbing the manila folder and taking a look at it. You did not notice the quick expression of shock on Wednesday’s face. If you could call that shock at any capacity. It was more of a ‘nanosecond of wide-eyes’ before she drifted to her usual composure, her neutral face not betraying something brewing inside of her. Something that burned hotter than the fireplace. Suddenly, she pulled her tie to loosen it a bit, feeling a tad suffocated.

Your eyebrows were knitted in focus, walking over to the fireplace. “Missing persons case or murder?” You said, sitting down near it and sprawling your sweater on the floor for it to dry up alongside you. 

Wednesday breathed in deeply and began to walk over to where you were, arms crossed under her bust. “It’s no Black Dahlia, which I must admit has me heartbreakingly disappointed.”

You gave it a quick read, skimming through it. Missing persons for over five years, all the leads recorded were from directly after the case began, the works. You looked up from the sea of formal words to find Wednesday standing over your sweater with a head tilted. “Something the matter, Ms. Addams?” You questioned while you continued to read over, only half-paying attention to it.

“You could have simply laid here with your sweater on to dry up,” Wednesday sounded firm, as always having an air of superiority to her tone. “You did not need to be naked.”

“I’m not naked, for one,” you nearly mumbled out as you flipped over a paper. “Secondly, it’s not like you didn’t see me naked before.”

“I did not,” Wednesday piped up immediately and then silence befell upon the two of you.

A connected gaze that spoke a lot louder than what I could do here, but I dare to try anyways. It was a look of intensity, a mixture of curiosity, passion, almost indignation, but so devoid of malice that it was surprising. Only when you peeled your gaze away from those dark eyes did you notice that one of her fists was… clenched, like holding onto something imaginary for dear life. Wednesday had no tells when it came to lying, deceiving, playing Poker or anything, but she had a tell for that little ‘weakness’ of hers.

“When I was out for the count in the hospital, yeah you did,” you chuckled, closing the folder. “So, I don’t see why you’re uncomfortable.”

“Nevermind that,” Wednesday took a deep breath in and replied. “I am not uncomfortable, I just questioned your audacious choice to disrobe in front of me.”

Then you squinted, pointing at her with a smile. “Did you just… implicitly confess that you’ve seen me naked?” 

Silence, filled with suspense. A silence that Wednesday utilized for many occasions, but never to admit guilt. Yet, here she was.

You had a cheeky smirk on your face that you couldn’t erase, much to Wednesday’s chagrin. “So what was said is true, you bathed me while I was out?”

Perhaps what happened next was a bit abrupt and slightly unbecoming of someone like Wednesday, but it was not uncommon to you who knew her in the most peculiar of phases.

She took a long stride to where you were seated and, with her feet planted firmly on your shoulder, shoved you down to lay on the floor, back against that comfort rug. Rather than painful, that was kind of fun, it had you unexpectedly chuckling. That 5’0” menacing figure stood over you with furrowed brows and an impassive face as she began her questioning: “The nurse yapped, didn’t she?”

“I never said it was a nurse,” you raised an eyebrow. “You said that yourself.”

Now the two of you were at an impassé, and Wednesday knew not how to feel.

With a sigh, you decided to be honest now that you had a heeled boot pressing against you. Thank god she only used heels on very rare occasions, otherwise you truly wouldn’t be so chill. “I thought that was really nice. Taking care of your partner like that,” you paused for a moment, looking up to her eyes and seeing them soften a tad. “I liked that.”

“It was incredibly creepy and invasive,” Wednesday admitted and you couldn’t believe that there may have been a small ounce of guilt over that as it slipped her lips. Very unlike the terrifying Wednesday, but you understood why.

“Yeah, I think that’s what I like about it,” you finished. But the thought in your head added ‘Only because it’s you’ for you truly would never trust anyone else to help you. Seeing the vague guilt knitted in her eyebrows dissipate in a pleasant surprise, you added something else, however. “I think you liked it, too.”

And unlike last time many weeks ago, Wednesday couldn’t hide her blushing cheeks and that evil smirk of hers behind the curtain of darkness. That must have ringed some semblance of truth, for it deterred Wednesday from digging her boot deeper into your skin. But she did swiftly move to straddle your hips, leaning down with her hands on either side of your head. Eyes connected, words unspoken for that brief moment she drew closer. The atmosphere had changed instantly. 

“I did like it, I enjoyed watching your helpless naked body,” Wednesday growled.

And under any normal circumstances, you would be creeped out, but now you were just turned on. Most importantly, you noted that sudden confidence in Wednesday, a contrast to that one night that seemed so far in the past now. “Oh yeah? I bet you couldn’t stop looking at me.”

“I was so afraid,” she huskily said, leaning in closer. Nose to nose, her hot breath tickling just right. “That you would slip away from me before I could play with you, my little pet.”

Out of pure curiosity, you questioned. “Is that why you took the time to bathe me?”

Wednesday’s eyes bore into yours, but quickly traveled down to your lips, as if she yearned for them. Her response came later. “I trusted no one to touch you. I took matters into my own hands.”

Now you didn’t know if it was merely dirty talking, a playful possessiveness, or if it was the truth she harbored deep within. Maybe it was all of the above, with one having less chances of happening than the other. Regardless, it was tense.

Tension, tension, tension; so palpable and warm that you no longer felt the effects of the cold wind from the weather in your bones. Wednesday has gotten quite good at this dirty talking thing, so morbid yet enticing to you. Your hands instinctively reached to caress her thighs, but she grabbed them both and pinned them down above your head. 

“You don’t get to touch your Master,” she growled almost, leaning in and stopping short with your lips and hers only inches away from one another. “Not until I say so.”

You could almost lean in, tempted so much to touch her lips and feel that comfort. But you kept that desire to yourself, compliant like a good pet. “Yes, master,” you lowly said. 

Now, Wednesday had no idea how to subtly express her desire for more. At least not yet anyways. Unable to even insinuate it through dirty talk, her creativity limited only to murder and grotesque scenes in her ‘usual’ state. So she just decided to say it matter-of-factly like she tended to do. “I will experiment with you, my pet,” straight to the point, yet she was never exactly naming the act itself – neither by its more clinical and boring name, nor the more audacious and salacious one. Hiding her lack of experience and confidence well, she proceeded. “We explored some of what I liked, yet master hardly indulged further,” her hands left your wrists, reaching to start undoing her tie. “I would like to do that tonight, before you think of reading over that boring case. Understood?”

You licked your lips, fighting the urge to touch her. “You’ve been working on your dirty talk, that’s good,” and just as you finished that sentence, Wednesday wrapped her tie around your neck and started to tie it with dexterous fingers. The smooth silkiness, the pitch black design bore a striking resemblance to something else and it aroused you to even think of it. Cheekily, you questioned: “A gift for me?”

Then she tightened it with one clean move and pulled it, drawing your head closer to her. A fervid kiss shared between two pent-up partners, a delighted whimper coming out of you and a satisfied moan drawing out of Wednesday, when she pulled away her voice was firm in correcting you. “Your leash.”

In between the lines, you read what she intended to say: Be a good puppy tonight.

You chuckled though, hands still restraining themselves to avoid touching Wednesday. “You’ve come prepared, I wonder what else you got on your sleeves.”

“Toys,” Wednesday admitted immediately.

And that took you back for a moment. “W-what?”

You almost couldn’t believe what she was saying, but you soon realized she was not joking.

Smash cut to the flabbergasting scene. You and Wednesday standing over her desk, a large wooden box of old laying there open with a small, orderly variety of toys. What jumped to your view, of course, was the strap and that skin-colored dildo. It… matched Wednesday’s skin tone, and the mere thought of her with it on made you bite your lower lip. But you pulled back, not getting too ahead of yourself. “I thought you weren’t into this kind of stuff,” you mumbled out after.

“I wanted to ravage my pet a little more efficiently,” she said, giving it to you straight. But when she looked at you, there was an ounce of yearn and a dash of preoccupation, wondering if that might be okay with you.

Curiosity was piqued, given that she had said that she wanted to indulge more in her pleasure than yours. So, you asked quietly. “You want to use it on me?”

Wednesday hesitated, turning her body to face yours. “Eventually. I would like you to use it on me for now,” a pause. “I’ve seen the way you can move your hips.”

Flabbergasted, you almost jumped out of your ‘pet’ character at this revelation. You should’ve known, all things considered, but her boldness was the thing that caught you off guard just a tad. Well that, and the confession that she had observed you previously. “W-when?”

“During that case we had at the club, when you were distracting the suspect by asking them out on a dance,” Wednesday’s blush became a little more apparent, especially this close. “That was impressive and I would like to see it up close.”

There was more she wanted to say, but you didn’t push her to say it. You, instead, got on your knees and looked up at her. With the change in height, Wednesday already could feel herself growing into her role of your Master. She grabbed your tie almost instinctively, like something had compelled her to do so. Now more aware of what she wanted and eager to comply, you said: “I am entirely at your disposal, Master.”

“Good,” a brief pause full of tension. “Get the lube, put the strap on,” then Wednesday smirked. “And put your sweater on.”

Huh?

Wednesday Addams was an odd woman, who simultaneously knew not what to make of sex, yet knew what she wanted from it. Most importantly, she knew what she wanted to do with you, at least this time around. The doubt that you once saw that night at home was almost entirely gone, replaced by innate curiosity and willingness to explore beyond her prejudices. Everyday, you learned more of her and this was no different. She had ordered you to get up, put on your red sweater and you didn’t know why. For a moment, you thought she was going to tell you to disrobe for her but in a switch of things she told you to dress up.

The reality was that it was something psychological, something subtle that aroused Wednesday. 

You came to understand it as you were pulling her socks off, the two of you now seated in the rug a safe distance away from the consuming flames of the fireplace. Wednesday was seated and leaned back, relishing in the look of you fully dressed while she was already down to just her underwear. Almost entirely bare for you.

“My sweet little pet, don’t you wish you were naked with me?” Wednesday said, watching you, her little pet, pull her other sock. 

You played along, curious. “Don’t you, Master?”

Wednesday’s smirk was devilish. “I much prefer to witness you this way. Clothed, desperate, serving me and only me. While I lay bare, exhibiting myself to you as I please.”

Like you are not allowed to be naked, to be disrobed without her permission. She is in total control of you, and even if the clothes restrained you little, Wednesday took pleasure in that idea alone. A master in control of the subtle things, pulling at your strings to get what she wanted. In addition, Wednesday probably enjoyed the feeling of being exposed to you like this, feeling like she was… doing something so wild, something depraved and out of character for her. That still-audacious choice of underwear spoke to you, perhaps louder than last time. Black lace matching set, more enticing than macabre and a new side to Wednesday. It was not the same she wore before, which brought even more questions. You didn’t mind at all, leaning down to gently kiss her feet, an affectionate gesture in the midst of so much depravity. A gesture of devotion to your partner in crime.

“Good pet,” Wednesday praised you, with much more fondness in her tone than she intended. 

Pulling you by your leash – er, tie – Wednesday hungrily captured your lips on her own in a fervent kiss. Consuming all remaining bits of reason and deterrence, welcoming in ‘immorality’ and wickedness in its place. You noticed it in the way Wednesday kissed you now, letting every ounce of passion come through in the rather frantic way she devoured you. Confidence, that was the change. She bit your lower lip and tugged with a mischievous smirk, looking at you with those lustful half lidded eyes and tacitly encouraged you to do your magic, like a good pet. Once she let go of your lip, you took the lead and kissed her hungrily again, this time letting your tongue drag across her own. Your hands, like with a mind of their own, expertly undid her bra amidst the kiss and immediately reached down to help her slip off of the rest of her underwear. Breaking the kiss, Wednesday almost groaned at the loss of contact but finished undressing just as eagerly to welcome something far better. 

Curiosity was plaguing you as you folded her underwear neatly and placed it alongside Wednesday’s clothing items (a peculiar habit, but nevermind that). That curiosity came to a head once you started to smear lubricant all across that silicone shaft, feeling its details with your fingers. “Have you used this before, Master?” The question was genuine. 

Wednesday, already blushing and aroused, nodded without any shame. “I have. It was certainly an experience,” she admitted, sitting up to grab you by the cock and pull you in a little closer, neediness permeating her entire body language now. She stroked it slowly, despite knowing you technically didn’t feel anything. “If you are worried I might not be able to take it–.”

“No, I think you’ve got it,” you chuckled out, observing the way her hand stroked the strap. The mere intention and the way she did it were enough to allure just about anyone, but there was something about her doing it that was so peculiarly arousing. “You’re ready for me, Master?”

Wednesday looked up, then smirked and laid back down. Her legs opened to welcome you, instantly wrapping around you the moment you even moved closer to her. “Are you, my pet?” Wednesday cheekily responded, now observing you with lots of attention. 

You raised an eyebrow at her, gently guiding the cock to brush against her wet and ready folds. That garnered a reaction, soft and subtle but a delectable one nonetheless. “Readier than ever,” you paused, looking at her pussy and continuing to rub the tip against her. Her natural lubricant now smearing all around it. “You’re so wet. Have you been holding yourself back for weeks?” You asked rhetorically, or at least with no intentions of hearing her respond.

But she did. “Yes, I have,” she looked at you dead in the eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You wouldn’t let her wait any longer, gently tapping the tip of that cock against her clit and making her squirm almost instantly at it. An overwhelming sensation that probably felt so good for Wednesday, because she bucked her hips against it just to feel it more. But you stopped it in favor of what Wednesday was looking for.

The tip of the cock aligned against her entrance, meeting a bit of resistance before you pushed it in. That satisfying pop inside was not a shock for Wednesday, but still something still too new for her to be accustomed to. As gentle as ever, you slowly pushed it in, guiding the cock with one hand while the other caressed Wednesday’s tummy to quell the possible ache of an intruding object. “Shh, shh, you’re good, baby,” you softly placated. 

Wednesday deeply breathed and held onto your arm, doing her best to calm her body down. In no time, she welcomed your gentle and languid thrusts smoothly. The slickness of the way it slid in and out was indication enough but the presence of soft sounds of pleasure that grew steadily into moans was the last confirmation you needed. Now, you leaned to hover over Wednesday as your hips moved in a rhythm designed to ease Wednesday into it, not thrusting everything into her. But it was also to eventually torture her for how agonizingly slow and shallow it was.

Wednesday was still in the ‘ease-in’ phase of it, hands traveling down your clothed body and landing on your moving hips. Truthfully, she admired the movement as she felt it in her pussy, hands gripping your hips to understand the way it felt in her hands. Relishing in every second of its slowness. With a delighted hum, she reached down and grabbed your ass – possessiveness written so clearly in her intentions, but also curiosity as to how it felt thrusting into her. Mewling, she had a smirk that you swore could almost be a smile. “Not bad, my little pet,” she complimented you subtly, and you had to fight back the urge to thrust deep into her and ravage her right then and there. Be a good pet, and you will be rewarded.

Those soft moans of ease grew into needier ones and you did not wait for Wednesday to ask you or threaten you to start going faster. Your rhythm naturally picked up, thrusts becoming more elaborate along with it, and Wednesday only could get wetter and wetter. You straightened up, fully able to view Wednesday’s bare body in all its glory. Gorgeously bathed in that golden glow of dancing fire; the subtle arch of her back making her look so sensual. Your hands held her hips briefly before they traveled upwards caressing as much of her body as you could. When your hands reached her breast you grabbed them, kneading them passionately (it seemed to have taken Wednesday by a slight surprise), not letting your hips falter for a second as you did. “Such a good pet,” Wednesday moaned out, placing her hands on top of yours. “Harder now, your master is ready.” 

“Yes, master,” you raspily said. Hands moved away and you leaned in to capture Wednesday’s lips in a rather simple kiss. Simple but still passionate, brief enough to send a message of affection. But to make it clear, you softly spoke. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

Wednesday nodded, keeping any witty remark to herself as she knew you were only being a good pet by taking care of her.

The fun truly began. You sat back up and grabbed Wednesday’s hip tightly, fingertips greedily digging into her skin. The movement of your hips went from sensual and slow, to wild and rough; pulling out until just the tip clung to Wednesday’s entrance, then slamming that cock all the way inside. The moment Wednesday felt that all the way inside, there was no way in heaven or hell that she could stop herself from moaning out as loud as she did. It was certainly a pleasant surprise though, for she didn’t squirm away from your hips, instead pushed against them. Welcoming it, asking for more. Then you didn’t hesitate to do it again, and again. A bestial instinct sparked within the two of you at this roughness, you both sinking deeper into that lustful haze that understood no reason, only pleasure. 

Shouldn’t be a surprise that Wednesday liked it, thrusting that cock as deep as it could go and filling her up, then feeling that cruel pull out that seemed to stretch on forever – even if it wasn’t that long at all. All of it was arousing, the tension in between, the sensation of being filled to the brim, all of it sparkling new to her, for she didn’t dare to venture this far when she used this toy by herself. It amused her how much losing control like this was something she was enjoying thoroughly. The wet sounds of it all, the skin slapping that gradually became quicker, the perfect atmosphere of a thunderstorm raging just outside the sturdy walls of the library, stimulating her every heightened senses.

Then you picked up the speed, holding her down in place and letting your hips do the work she so desperately wanted to see. Savagely, you wasted no inch of that cock and made every movement count. Wednesday was elated, now unable to fully restrain those loud moans back, hands clinging and holding on tightly to the rug that provided little steadiness. Merciless thrusts that Wednesday wallowed in. Oh and she enjoyed that wild look in your eyes, mirroring hers as you embraced such a savage state of mind with her as a guest.

Wednesday wanted to be the recipient of your desire, over and over, for however long she could. 

That intense feeling was building up in the way she liked, her pussy starting to feel sensitive, her cheeks warming up exponentially, her entire body tensing up and moving without her thinking it, her toes curling–.

But then… What happens if she comes? Will you stop? What happens when this is over? Will it ever happen again? Was she ready for that? 

Something switched in Wednesday’s train of thought, so sudden and unexpected. The strong emotions were coming in fast and she couldn’t process them at all. The intensity escalated more, but the pleasure started to take a backseat as suddenly she was overwhelmed. An unpleasant new sensation pooling at the pit of her gut that took over her mind for that moment. A mixture of confusion and desire that Wednesday had yet to fully examine, too out of her mind to even think about what she truly was feeling. 

She was not ready to lose control totally, but paradoxically she wanted to lose control so badly for that moment. Cold and heat clashing in the worst moment possible to make her doubt everything.

The moans of a carefree Wednesday suddenly turned into whimpers, then to sharper whines, clawing at your arm and gasping. That shortness of breath forbade her from vocalizing this confusing sensation, but luckily you could intuit something was wrong. You heard it, you felt it, and instinctively started to slow down; elongated strokes now shorter and careful. Hearing those gasps and whines fade a bit, lowering in volume, was a relief. Your affection for her quickly took over, searching for her eyes and reading her expression. It was as you heard it, Wednesday was overwhelmed. “Hey, hey, are you okay?” You panted out, leaning down to be closer to her.

Her arms wrapped around you limply at first, then she held you tighter than before, panting heavily and burying her head on your neck. A twinge within you couldn’t help itself in feeling this intensely… adorable, even though what happened probably felt wrong for Wednesday. Her finding solace in your embrace was good, though. She trusted you that way.

Putting your role in this dynamic aside for a moment, you reveled in that inner tenderness of yours and this rare break from all the wildness. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay,” you softly cooed, sweetly speaking to her ear. “You’re okay, mamacita. I’ve got you.”

Wednesday sighed out loudly, coming back down from this strange overwhelmed state quicker. It dissipated, pleasure slowly returning in its wake. Wednesday found it rather fascinating as her mind slowly returned to planet earth. It was a rush of sudden emotions that she had never experienced before, let alone as intensely as this. The way you slowed down and let her calm down, it was like you understood exactly what had just happened. Trusting you and your knowledge, she asked in a low voice. “What… what was that?”

“You got overwhelmed,” you said lowly, pulling her away from your embrace and encouraging her to lay down on her back. Your hand idly caressed stomach to help calm her down, watching her already mewl in approval of that. Reeling in the back of her eyes was the surprise, which should wear off for a second, so you were patient.

“I like it rough,” Wednesday clarified, but her eyes and eyebrows showcased that confusion. “That wasn’t a problem before.”

“It wasn’t,” you sighed out loudly, letting your body catch a breather as well. “But if you get in your head or I reach a spot you’re not comfortable with, you might…” You trailed off as you noticed Wednesday averting her gaze somewhere else, propping her upper body up by her elbows. You knew what that meant, so you softly commented. “You got in your head, didn’t you?”

No response. Instead, Wednesday tried to communicate by looking at you, unsure of how to word it.

Well, that was an amusing part of the experience, to understand that even the great Wednesday – your master – had a limit. Or, well, a soft limit that could easily be overridden. Taking the lead, you pulled away to trail a few, passionate and slow kisses around Wednesday’s stomach. Those soft moans of delight came back and Wednesday had fully relaxed by the time you chose to speak.

“Let’s try this again, this time I want you to stop thinking about it. Let the moment be and make the most of it.”

Wednesday looked down at you, her adorably obedient pet, taking the reins for her sake in this brief moment. The dark spirals of that blackened heart felt, strangely, at ease. Nothing inherently romantic, nothing sexual, just comforting words from a partner who sought to look out for her well being. In confidence, she spoke: “These desires bring so much trouble,” her heart not fully on the statement.

Your kissing halted for a second to chuckle and reply: “Yes, but it’s an itch worth scratching,” you said, continuing with gentle licks. Intimacy and affection not forgotten, you let your hands travel the dips and curves of Wednesday’s body, knowing that while she never spoke out loud about these affectionate gestures, she appreciated the subtle worship – maybe even more than you realized.

The role of master came back to Wednesday naturally as the pleasure rolled back in, this time feeling it a little more intensely than at the beginning but in a manageable way. Your role came back to you instantly as you noticed she went back to getting bolder, moans of pleasure loud and clear, primed to compete against the rumble and roar of the thunder outside.

Your master came back in full force, demanding you to stop with a firm voice that sent goosebumps all over. “Enough, little mutt,” and you were a good pet that obeyed, lending the baton back to Wednesday. “Your master needs to know more about your abilities…”

Did you ever wonder if Wednesday was flexible? It seemed like a no-brainer with all her training and physical disciplines, but when she asked you for something audacious you couldn’t have ever imagined it.

Your hands under her knees, pressing them against her body and exposing that wet, needy pussy all for you to play with. The infamous mating press. The tip of the cock poked and prodded against her entrance, your hip stuttered for a second before you boldly thrusted all the way in, watching Wednesday throw her head back as she moaned without a care in the world. Wednesday could feel it go in deeper than before, but her body was prepared for it and reacted positively. You dared not to move yet, patiently awaiting her command even though the desire to fuck her was clawing within you. Obedience that did not go unnoticed as Wednesday smirked at it, rewarding you with a soft kiss and a caress to your cheek. “Fuck me, my obedient little pet,” she gasped out sensually. “I know you want to.”

No more hesitating then. With your hands gripping her leg tightly, you did as she told you. You fucked her, and you fucked her good. Starting with a moderate pace that had Wednesday groan in vague annoyance, before quickly shutting up those moans with roughness, slamming that cock into her with gusto. Wednesday moaned out for you, calling out your name – sometimes outright forgetting to refer to you as her pet. But those were precious moments where her mask slipped, where her affection was clear, and it was sweet. A lustful mist that clouded her brain enough to truly reveal that she loved this deeply, because it was with you. So you continued to give it to her, merciless full strokes that at times had her gasping for air before she composed herself and remembered to breathe. Especially when that warm twinge started to contract in her gut, but this time in such a toe-curling pleasurable way. It wouldn’t take long for these bestial thrusts to stimulate her every inch until she came.

But Wednesday had better plans. “My lovely pet,” her labored, gaspy voice appeared between the strings of incoherent sounds. “Master’s going to come, stop.”

You almost didn’t understand anything except ‘stop’, but the bewilderment misaligned your thrust enough for the strap to slip out of her pussy. A mixed sigh of relief and annoyance at the loss of contact came out of Wednesday instantly. “W-what?” You stammered out.

Limp went her arms and body for a second, relishing in the cruel, anguishing sensation of a climax that never came and quickly faded. That wicked smirk on her face was enough confirmation of what she had just said to you. You didn’t stay behind though, calmly aligning the tip of the toy back against her entrance, entering a little bit slowly. 

“H-hmm?” Wednesday was puzzled, until she felt a single, long stroke all the way in. Her gasp was instant, but she could barely process the feeling of that cock inside of her because you pulled it back out instantly. Poor thing almost expected it back in, in accordance to your rhythm, but it never came and it had her excited, anticipating with hunger. Oh, it was anguishing and delicious.

“You’re going to torture yourself until you can’t anymore, aren’t you?” You growled at her, giving her another deep, rough thrust in. Her moan could barely come out before it turned into a whine as you pulled back out quicker, again. “You learn quick.”

Wednesday groaned at the sudden power you had over her, yet protested it none. “You better not come either, not until I’m done playing with you–Hnng!” You interrupted her sentence by thrusting into her, because some of that masochistic cruelty she had for herself started to rub off on you.

“I can’t come from this, master.” You interjected. 

She could’ve easily thrown a witty remark back, but she was busy being surprised to still feel that cock inside of her after that initial thrust. Yet her gasp didn’t take long to appear again as you started to circle your hips while buried deep inside her. “Fu-fuck, you naughty mutt,” Wednesday cursed out, back arched and head thrown back, noting how her eyes had rolled back at that moment.

That is probably the first time you heard Wednesday curse at you, or in general. How amusing, you wanted her to do it again – and you were gunning for that, but you were stopped by the feeling of grabbing you by your neck abruptly. Surprising, but in your drunken lust it was so sensual. She pulled you close, staring deeply into your eyes. “Get on your back, you slutty mutt,” her bewitching, sensual voice just got to you, bringing a new spurt of energy to your body that you couldn’t expel in any other way but this one.

Fucking her real good. 

Reclaiming her throne, Wednesday straddled you but with a whole different aura to her now. It was not her merely powering over you to interrogate you, or disturbing your serene slumber. This time she looked at you with that evil smirk tugging at her lips, dark eyes oozing hunger. Yes, indeed, she’s famished for more, and now she took the lead. Vague hesitation permeated her movements at first, but once aligning the cock to her entrance and smoothly sliding down on it, that hesitation dissipated to welcome instinct instead. The instinct to seek more pleasure, slamming down to fit it all the way in with a groan of ecstasy. Hands on your chest and shoulder for leverage, Wednesday began to move her hips in a way you never thought she would. That was a pleasant surprise, and though you technically couldn’t feel anything, the mere sensuality of it all had you enthralled. 

“Such a good little puppy I have with me,” Wednesday moaned out softly, her alluring moves starting to pick up a little in speed. “So obedient,” her voice a mixture of wickedness and affection, a combination she was so good with. “So sad the little puppy can’t come from this.”

Fingertips traveled from your collarbone to your cheek, feeling her dexterous fingers dance down to your jaw, staying in your chin for a moment before lightly (and surprisingly slowly) scratching under there. A gesture akin to what she would do to a real pet, and that was elating. It made you smile, which in turn brought a very rare smile on Wednesday. One you knew not to comment on, for she hated the way she smiled sometimes. Encouraged by the gesture, your light-as-feather finger touched her thigh, caressing upward as she moved and stopping at her hips. Your palm felt the movements, your fingertips dug into that soft, surprisingly warm skin – when it usually is cold and almost rigid. Being the good puppy that you were, you aided Wednesday in her moves and kept still for her to humor herself as she pleased.

And the gesture did not go past Wednesday.

“Helping Master?” Wednesday rhetorically asked, mewling in between that pause and holding it together to continue talking. “You want Master to come, even if it means you won’t get anything?”

Fascinating that Wednesday seemed to revel in the dirty talking, when she once preferred silence. Of course you would indulge her, nourishing that exploration and newfound kink. Everything for your master. “I want you to, Master. I’ll serve you until you’re satisfied.”

Wednesday knew that your selflessness knew no bounds, especially when it came to her. She could be the cruel mistress right now, but instead she slowed her pace down, her hand now caressing your face. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you a reward,” was what Wednesday could muster, a vague admission that she wanted you to feel pleasure from her as well. Eventually, anyway.

You couldn’t deny such a generous offer. “Yes, Master.”

Pulling your tie to prop your head up, she leaned down and kissed you hungrily, sloppily, but without missing a second to savor it. You replied with the same vigor for that brief moment you locked lips. There was no time where kissing Wednesday felt repetitive, for it always was a strong sensation that sparked all over your body – and Wednesday felt the same, unable to deny that she enjoyed it. 

Letting go of your tie, Wednesday pulled back and began to truly pick up the speed. Her sensuous moves went faster and she tried very hard to keep it consistent, feeling the pleasure get to her, and in a way that was so intoxicating to watch. Yet, it felt like you shouldn’t be observing, ogling so much, like Wednesday wouldn’t want that. But that flicker of doubt went away when she looked into your eyes and smirked briefly. She wanted you to, she was encouraging you to observe her bare body – a sight no one gets to see but you, especially not now as it bounced on that cock, so ravenously seeking that climax. She looked so heavenly, so wild, you almost wished you had more hands to touch and grab those bouncing breasts greedily. Instead, like any good pet, you settled for helping her bounce on it. Helping her light frame up and down on it, even subtly bucking your hips against her movements to fully get all that cock into her, and her reaction to it was immediate. The cock rubbed and poked at sensitive spots within her with such gusto that Wednesday could feel her body acting on its own, actively seeking it and continuing her bounce. Hypnotized by the feeling of it, that zenith inched close far too quickly for her taste.

With a shake of her head, she pulled it all out and settled to sit away from it, panting heavily. You thought, for a moment, she maybe would have wanted to come like this, but – almost as if she read your mind – she placed her hand against your lips and kept you quiet. She shook her head again, catching a breather.

“No, I’m not done with you.”

Okay, maybe she did read your mind. 

But you couldn’t read hers and she knew so by the way you looked at her with a quirked eyebrow and lost, half-lidded eyes.

Once composed, Wednesday huffed in relief and moved away from you. She crawled, slowly and alluringly away from you, showcasing herself to you in all her naughty glory. The only reason you didn’t immediately go to her was because you were flabbergasted. She looked so good, and so tempting in all kinds of angles. You truly could devour her, she was likely to let you.

A soft, impish chuckle came out of Wednesday once she noticed this, soon whistling (loudly at that) to get your attention. When you finally woke up and looked at her, your response was absent minded but honest. “Sorry, mistress.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, but she liked it, motioning you to come on over with her hand. “Come here at once,” she was firm but oddly affectionate as you crawled over and adjusted behind her. “Mistress needs her release now,” she said with a sensual emphasis on Mistress.

A subtle tell that, like this, she was ready to come. “Y-Yes, master,” you stammered out. While your voice faltered in that moment, your hips did not as you bottomed out that cock all the way into Wednesday back where it belonged, earning a satisfied groan. 

The pace and rhythm was already set to be fast, frantic and needy; her pussy so wet and welcoming that there was no need to be gentle anymore. Truly, you were not. Holding her hips in place, you thrusted with gusto, enjoying every second of this and making every inch of your move sensual and tantalizing for Wednesday to enjoy. Your mistress mewled and moaned like she never did before, showing you that she could truly get louder. Her back arched, her hands clung to the rug, and she couldn’t help some incoherent profanities from slipping past her composure. Well, whatever was left of it. And that paper-thin composure got shattered more when you started to rock her against your thrusts to truly impale her as deep as you could. It was pure ecstasy, it would make anyone with the hardest wall melt for sure and Wednesday was no exception. Even less when you wildly smacked her ass and picked up the roughness more.

“Fuck,” Wednesday gasped out at the sudden shift, feeling everything a lot more heightened now. “Y-you naughty little mutt,” she could barely say that with a growl, moaning towards the end of it. “You truly know how to fuck your mistress, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the mere atmosphere had you tipsy with lust even if you couldn’t feel the friction. “I can’t get enough of your pussy,” your fingers dug into her skin the rougher your thrust got. “I-Is this good Master?”

You didn’t need to ask, Wednesday’s volume went up higher and could almost make the walls shake. “So fucking good, don’t you dare stop,” Wednesday’s labored breath was almost lost to the sound of slapping, but you caught it right on time.

“You’re dripping wet, Wens,” the nickname slipped your mind, your brain foggy with everything happening. “You’ve been needing this a while.”

Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t seem to mind. “Because of you,” she replied in between gasps and moans, reaching back to feel around your body, from your arm to your shoulder, for your tie. She grabbed it and began to pull you in, making you drape your body on hers. You obliged, stopping for a moment, buried deep into her and twirling your hips to truly stimulate her deep down. Her eyebrows knitted in such delight at the pleasure. “Come here,” she whimpered out, placing a hand on your head and directing you to kiss, hard and needily. You didn’t expect anything, especially as her tongue dragged across your lips hungrily and possessively, seeking to taste your tongue again. However, there was a brief break in between that passion for Wednesday to say something you didn’t expect to hear ever.

In between moans and mewls, Wednesday said: “Thank you.”

You assumed it was because of all of this? After all, you got all the way here and became her little pet for another night – for however long it’s been since you two first kissed again. Clothed, aroused yet unable to undress and please yourself. A masochist’s dream to some extent. But it’s feasible that, deep down, Wednesday felt a little guilty for selfishly putting you through this for her amusement. Or maybe she felt… grateful that you made it safe for her to do so?

Overwhelmed with affection and passion, you replied a simple: “Anything for you,” as you dove down to her neck to place a playful bite that she chuckled at. Another thing you heard for the first time in a while, a chuckle that was not fake or forceful, coming from her deepest, most honest side of her black miasma of a heart. But a heart, no matter how blackened and rough, was still a heart at the end of the day.

Your hands went from her hips down to her pussy, caressing so lovingly on the way there. Rubbing her tummy with one hand and stimulating her clit with the other, you immediately felt that strong response against your body. Wednesday’s body squirmed, she gasped and grabbed a fistful of your hair when the pleasure hit, feeling that wave extend over her body in a positively paralyzing way. Now that’s the way to get her. 

A bit sooner than expected, Wednesday felt that extreme desperation to come, but could barely vocalize it with the way you fucked her, the way you played with her pussy like you were born to do that – like she was born to enjoy you. In a surprising gesture, Wednesday firmly commanded:

“Look at me.” 

It was like it came from her most primal side that refused to become mush to your administration while her entire body quivered. You gave her one last bite to her neck and looked up at her, hips fervently thrusting towards her climax (and you swear you could feel her closing around the cock), hands frantically rubbing and working on her clit while she looked at you with such hungry eyes. The pleasure built up again, but this time there was no thought to ruin it, letting the moment be as you told her to do. Her only thought was to lose that control she was so afraid of losing, and to relish that loss in your arms.

“Make me come, make your master come all over you,” she moaned out now, less firmly now.

As she said that, you put a little more pressure in your hand, your hips moving just the right way and angled in that perfect way that instantly had Wednesday’s face contorting entirely because of that pleasure. You pulled your body away to give her and her body the space to react to it, already telling by the high pitched tone of her voice that she was right there at the coveted zenith. It all had sent her off the edge, opening the floodgates that spilled her juice all over your cock, all over your fingers, nearly dripping down to the rug. “Oh my god,” she cried out and called out for you in a drowned whimper, upper body succumbing to the rug, hands stretched out to cling to anything to the rug. Her lower body trembled against you and the way you fucked her, truly something you didn’t expect Wednesday to experience. You knew nothing more at that moment than to keep going, now thrusting more consistently to truly fuck her all the way through her orgasm.

An orgasm that surprised you by how it stretched further than her last one, remaining as intense for longer. You were a good pet that gave it your all until it started to fade. Her moans got quieter, her body uncoiled from its tense state, and you slowed down in tandem to it. Fingers, thrusting, everything slowed down. Time, even, the storm outside, seemed to slow down with you both.

Then, that fervor, that all-consuming climax, was gone.

Wednesday panted heavily, gasping out at the feeling that you were still inside of her, so she reached back and touched your hip to gently push you, pleasantly overwhelmed and overstimulated. Obliging, you pulled away. Quietly now, only accompanied by your labored breaths and the crinkling of the live flame nearby, you both relished in that post-orgasmic bliss – Wednesday more than you, but watching her still propped up and so ruined was… so good, it could almost bring you to your own climax. 

You focused back on her though, gently touching her and leading her to lay down proper. Mind still reeling from all that, Wednesday only got on her side and laid down. The movement and the contact of your hands had her whimpering and whining, still sensitive because of it all. It was honestly quite adorable but you knew not to admit that out loud. You didn’t waste more time, standing up to get rid of the strap-on so you could get down and properly cuddle your master. Lewdly, you noted just how all of Wednesday essence was on it, and you couldn’t fight back a moan of your own.

“Get… here,” Wednesday barely mumbled out, snapping your attention back to reality and quickly to her. “Hold me, puppy.”

Putting the strap away for a nice cleanse, you walked back and laid down on your back next to Wednesday. She immediately moved closer and placed her head on your chest, arm wrapped around your waist to hold you as close as you could be. You tenderly hugged her close to you. “Are you okay?” It was that sweet contrast between the focused, primal you of moments before, to the supportive and puppy-like you in the after bliss. 

Wednesday nodded, still too spent to speak. 

“Good,” and you had all the intentions to let the conversation die there if needed, until you started to feel her entire body give a quick, almost adorable twitch. You blinked in confusion a few times before you looked at her. “Did you just twitch?”

“Keep it to yourself,” Wednesday said with a flimsy attempt at sounding firm, slowly looking up. “I can’t help it.”

You smiled down at her and nodded. “Your secret will always be safe with me,” you leaned down and placed a kiss on her bang-covered forehead. 

There was a mumble that  you couldn’t understand, Wednesday shifting a little closer. You held her tighter, rubbing her naked back. After a brief silence between the two of you, she spoke out more clearly. “Good puppy,” a beat. “I’ll give you your reward.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and was about to protest it, seeing how exhausted she was.

Then she continued. “Some other time…”

Rather than frustration, that brought a chuckle out of you. “Yes, we have a groundbreaking case to crack lying on that desk first.”

Wednesday groaned. Another chuckle from you, then pleasant silence. 

To be filled by Sam Carpenter and her thick cock was one thing, but to be the doll that she trusted and adored enough to fill with all her pent-up seed, that was a privilege and an endurance test that was pushing you to your limit. A limit you consented Sam to push and prod. Yet, she kept going from this last orgasm she felt. Incredible, that’s what it was. She had just given those haphazard, barbaric thrusts – accompanied by those sexy grunts and whimpers as she felt cock shoot string after string, feeling the way the cream from inside of you oozed out of you with every thrust. Thrusts that had stopped with one abrupt impalement as Sam caught her breath, head tossed back and relishing in that sensitivity in her cock. A sensitivity she had rarely felt or been able to revel in, until she confessed her sins at church and succumbed to her lustful wishes.

But there was, beneath all that savage desire and immoral pleasure, a woman whose tender voice firmly spoke to you, rubbing your back tenderly as you struggled to get on your fours for her. “Babygirl? Talk to Mommy,” Sam – the mommy in question – asked you, strained voice that slowly came back to her. “Did Mommy reach your limit?”

Your body still trembled as it descended from that heavenly climax, your second tonight, trying so hard to prop yourself up from the bed. With her tender help, you were back up and exposed for her. You shook your head and whined, feeling her cock still hard and twitching within you – clamoring for another round. Your pussy answered generously by clenching deliciously around it, making Sam bite her lower lip and contain herself. You were addicted to Sam, you couldn’t get enough of her. You passed your limit moments ago, but you found yourself nowhere near tired or willing to stop.

“Give me more, mommy,” You pushed your hips back to entice her more. “You’re so hard still, you must need more.”

Sam instinctively looked over at the clock that hung lonely on the dull, beige colored wall. There was still an hour and a half before your husband came back home, lying on the bed that – at this precise moment – had Sam’s cream that dripped from your pussy. With your explicit consent, she began again. To feel it smeared all over her thick, veiny cock, creating a coat that worked better than lubricant was the wildest Sam has ever felt and she couldn’t get enough. The way it dripped down her twitching balls, it slapped against your pussy, it… it was the most aroused you ever were as well.

Guilt was nowhere to be found, not when she hit the spots you never thought you had, not when she reached a level of arousal that had been unknown to her for such a long time. Years of yearning for each other and many nights recounting the ‘what-if’ culminated in this passionate encounter under your roof.

In the bedroom you shared with your husband, you had another affair.

As a priestess, you knew more about the wrath of the heavenly god than anything in the world. But as a woman, you knew about the frustration of being chaste for a long time. Your dark, ethereal robe of a priestess stalked across the polished floors of the church, the house of god, as you hid your desperation within yourself to continue your day onward – for the sake and for the service of others. But just as the hour was late and the church was desolate, just when you were about to turn off that light that lit the confessional booth, you heard the stomping footsteps of someone on the other side of the box. They entered the confined space, shakily sighed and hesitated for a moment.

“Do not fear, I am here to listen,” you softly spoke from your side of the booth, hoping the soothing words wafted to that other side where the anonymous person stood. 

The voice that came out of the other side petrified you with its sweetness, its sensual quality that made your heart dance as you heard it. It was a woman, a woman that sounded like she had it all together and figured out (somewhat… familiar as well?), but she confessed to feeling the darkness surrounding her. Out of her came a noble plight for forgiveness for what she had committed, something unspeakable that she could not confess. Something she felt she could not name.

You rubbed your cheek at this predicament before you, feeling the coldness of your ring that brought the memories of a bitter argument that happened just before you entered the church.  “You are free to confess however you want, my child,” you tried, intrigued by this mysterious woman on the other side. 

The woman sighed, that much you could hear, then you heard shuffling and movement. But no doors, no chair moving back, nothing to indicate that the person was gone. Then, the voice came back but rather than confessing more, she asked a pointed question.

“Mother, can I trust you to fully confess my sins?”

And your response was compassionate and filled with love. “Absolutely.”

What she confessed was not what you expected. The woman, so sensual sounding, harbored a deep regret for carrying the blood of an entire family in her hands. And that was terrifying to her as much as it was to you, but she sounded so sincere in her fear and repentance that you were strangely assured that this, this regret, was enough to set her heart to the right path. You quietly listened as she continued to talk and pour the feelings she was never able to properly convey with anyone.

And you understood her, and you accepted her.

Maybe because the love of god was powerful and his plan for everyone may look very strange, but you had faith in this woman to overcome her darkness.

But let us not fool ourselves, you also enjoyed hearing her speak. Your dirty little mind reeled at the sound of her voice when she began to whisper, when she had calmed down and thanked you for listening to her predicament. It was a tantalizing voice that clouded your judgment. It was a voice… that you felt was about to change you.

A change that came around three weeks later.

The days went by and dragged on just like your dark, empyreal coat stalked above the same polished floor of the same old church. The same old walls and the same old stained glass that portrayed divinity. The house of God, the house of chastity, the house of drowning your desires. The ring in your finger carried a heavier weight than last time you spoke to the mysterious woman, like it was charged with the pent up energy you hid behind your coat. The watchful eye of God (or even the visitors of the church) observed the furrow in your brow that seemed permanent at this point, inquisitive about what troubled you while you helped everyone around you.

The church was desolate again, charged with tense air as you felt it waft out of you and dance across the rest of the celestial space. The confessional booth felt hotter, your robe felt tighter in your body than ever before despite you fitting it exactly the same just hours ago. The light above you and in the booth in front of you taunted you with extra heat, you were two steps away from turning off. Until it happened.

Those once angry and desperate stomping steps had transformed to an easier, stealthier walk. The door, the chair, the shuffling. Then the voice.

“Priestess?” That ambrosial voice called softly, a whisper that was afraid of disturbing the sleeping angels, indeed. “Bless me, mother. For I have sinned.”

You could feel your hand nearly clawing the wood as you heard it. “What is it, my child?”

There was an ounce of hesitation and you could feel it from your side of the booth; the wait made your heart skip a beat in anticipation, like you were about to witness the thrilling life of someone who interested you.

“I must confess, I have been bad,” she didn’t sound so desperate, nor was she pleading. She said it with normalcy, but a touch of confusion permeated her tone. “But I have not yet sinned the way you think.”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement, but you, too, were partly confused. “What do you mean, my child?”

“I have lust, but it is not a lust for blood. I have not felt that since I confessed,” that was a relief, but you leaned closer to hear it well, interest fully piqued. “But I cannot get rid of this lust.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling your predicament mirrored in someone else’s body. “Carnal lust?”

“Yes,” she admitted immediately. “I can’t understand it, it takes over my whole body and it plagues my thoughts. It demands my attention.”

And you have never felt so seen in your life. You crossed your legs and clenched your fist, trying to keep your composure. “It distracts you from your daily routine, doesn’t it?” Unintentionally, you had poured a bit of yourself in there.

“Yeah,” the woman sighed, but she did not continue, perhaps unsure of how to proceed.

But you didn’t want her to stop talking. Your mouth spoke for you, from the heart, not from reason.

“I understand what you feel. It feels overwhelming, an itch you want to scratch.”

You could feel the nodding on the other side.

“But I ask, can you not release your pent-up energy?”

“I can’t,” the woman sighed. “I feel I am not allowed to enjoy it, to seek partnership.” There was a pause, a deep breath in and out. “I don’t feel like I get to enjoy that, I fear that history may repeat itself. Mother, I am a monster.”

“You are not a monster,” you said with a hand in your chest, feeling moved. But above all else, feeling somewhat represented. This was the moment you were supposed to chastise the stranger for even thinking about carnal desires, but the truth was that you could not do so. You could not bring yourself to even utter the words that you were taught to say – nay, that you were FORCED to say under the pressure of the watchful God.

You could not say it.

“It feels that way, mother.”

You gulped, trying to shove yourself into reprimanding her. The heat of the lightbulb, the tension in the air, it was all so suffocating.

So you failed.

“I, too, suffer from those carnal needs,” you confessed now. “I know the look of monsters when I hear one, but if I am revered and respected with these thoughts in my mind, what tells you that you cannot?”

Then there was silence, charged with such tension that it electrified you.

“We are but flesh, tempted by our own configuration. It’s okay to feel it,” you consoled her, yet it felt like a consolation for you. 

There was a moment of silence as it sunk into you that you’ve just blurted out a personal belief above God’s words, and you were horrified for a second before she spoke again.

“Your voice… it’s soothing.”

Out of left field, yet very welcomed. It grabbed you off base, but you did your best to recover. “I could say the same about your voice. It’s very… attractive,” you blurted out without thinking.

“Really?” The stranger asked, the smile on her lips evident by just the sound.

“Yeah, really,” your formality stripped away, torn down like your defensive walls around your heart and composure. “I like hearing it, I enjoy it.”

You heard that chuckle, a chuckle that felt so friendly and welcoming. But she did not speak more. After a significant silence, stuffed with anticipation and tension, the woman on the other side merely responded in a hushed whisper. “Thank you, mother…”

Then, you heard that chair shuffling back, the legs scratching the floor of the booth and you instantly knew this woman was about to leave you.

You have no idea what had compelled you to do such a bold move forward, but you know that you did it. Like the force of something greater than you overtook you and you hastily opened your door, emerging from your side of the booth and nearly running out of it.

You and the stranger stopped dead in your tracks the moment you saw each other. You recognized that woman, those expressive round eyes, a wonderful brown color that always appealed to you, thick eyebrows that attracted your attention the moment you laid eyes on them many years ago… but what was different was the stature of the woman, who had grown strong and tall. The woman you saw in the news that you thought, for a second, could not be the same classmate of yours.

The woman who had asked for forgiveness, who had just confessed to being in need… was the one that got away in High School. A love lost to time and circumstances, something that just could not happen. God knows why, god knows why.

“Sam?” You asked, feeling your heart already skipping a bit. You did not need to ask, for you knew this woman and you recognized her like the way your body recognized her voice before you even mentally made the connection. 

Sam, too, had the realization, drawing a deep breath in, conflicted and confused. “It’s… you.”

The reverential robes of the Priest gave you such an authority over the not-so-stranger, but you felt like a hungry animal just the same as she was. The hierarchy of your title did not exist, for you and Sam were on equal footing.

You have no idea who made the first move, nor did you care. All you knew now is that you both had succumbed to your wicked desires behind the closed door of the booth, melting into each other’s lips and hungrily devouring one another. A kiss outside of your marriage, the coldness of the wedding band caressing Sam’s jawline as you caressed her warm skin, feeling her pull you closer to her body by your waist. And just like so many years ago, you felt that strong body against yours, and that tantalizing bulge, soft but already taking over your mind.

Not entirely yet, for the only thought that crossed your mind coherently at that moment was:

Heaven is not made out of sinners… but paradise to you, has never been guaranteed.

Then you felt Sam’s strong hands going down to your rear, boldly grabbing and pulling you as close as she could pull you – not hesitant, not doubting it for a second. Such a contrast from your partner, who in turn never took a risk like this. Thrill slowly started to fill your veins, your heart beating faster as you felt that sweet moan come out of Sam’s lips as she pushed you against the wall. Her strong body trapped you, pushed you and forbid some of your movement, but that was so exhilarating and you did not protest it. Just like you did not protest the way she got rid of your robe and tossed it to the lonely wooden chair, dexterous fingers multi-tasking as she now let her tongue explore yours so carnally and hungrily, without a care in the world. An ambrosial feeling that had you electrified from head to toe, something you didn’t want to end, but you pulled a stop to for the sake of breathing. The moment you two pulled away, you stared into each other’s eyes and read the same thing.

Undeniable desire, and unstoppable lust.

Before Sam could even begin to second guess, you helped her out of her jacket, noting the muscles in her arm. You wanted to eagerly continue getting rid of things, but you had to stop and run your hands through those biceps, longingly squeezing them, admiring them. She understood you. Without a word spoken to each other, she flexed her bicep for you to touch ‘till your heart felt content, letting a soft whimper escape her lips when you traced your fingertips across her skin ever so gracefully.  That whimper was so intoxicating, it drove you mad.

Good god almighty, you were trembling for this woman.

And Sam was trembling for you, taking the bold lead once again as she unbuttoned your shirt and opened it, lips instantly attacking your neck with fervid kisses. Kisses that, one after the other, were filled with passion. Sam savored the taste of you, she licked and nibbled your skin ever so tactfully; her hands caressing your tummy and traveling up to your breast. Greedily she squeezed them, and she grunted against your skin as she did. You could tell then that she truly had not touched a woman for such a long time. Yes, it was indeed evident by the way her fingers felt so possessive when they touched you, by the way she played with your clothed breast so enthusiastically for that brief moment, moaning against your neck and relishing in the moans that dared escape your own mouth. Then, she pulled away, looking into your eyes with those helplessly needy eyes. She leaned in but stopped herself short, brushing her nose so tenderly against yours – an oddly tender moment in the midst of all the passion, like some of that fondness from many years ago had seeped through this moment of pure carnality.

“Sam,” you softly whispered, almost breathless. “Please, keep going.”

“Baby.” Sam merely said at first in a husky voice. That made your heart flutter. The nickname she had given you in High School, the name she whispered in your ear to calm you down when you were stressed. A nickname you hadn’t forgotten and neither had she. Sam paused for a moment, her hands dropping from your breast down to your hips. You cupped her cheeks, a thumb brushing her tender skin as she worked up the courage to continue. “I need you, I don’t want to stop.”

It had dawned on you for a moment that maybe Sam had also noticed the ring in your finger, but dared not to speak out loud about it. Was she afraid she would ruin the moment? Maybe she was afraid you would come to your senses quicker? 

Your response has never been more certain. “Don’t stop, I want you.”

And so she did not hesitate.

With her hands firmly grasping your hips in place, Sam hungrily pushed her bulge against your clothed pussy. That drew an instant wild moan out of you, one that you couldn’t even think to stop. By the gods, you could feel her pulsing, you could feel her having grown hard by merely kissing you. If you concentrated, you could almost feel the throbbing. A warm wave of arousal washed over you, like a new spurt of energy – a new level of sensitivity almost. You let Sam do as her wild heart desired, wrapping your arms around her neck and spreading your legs a bit as she pushed you against the wall again. 

Sam rubbed her hard bulge against you with such agonizingly slow pace that you could feel yourself tensing your muscles in anticipation. You truly could melt into her strong body as she continued to almost tease you with such an exquisite feeling. It was restrained, caged by fabric and yet it brought you immense pleasure to just feel it brush against you, feeling it press against your clit and preparing you for what was to come.

It was the mere insinuation that Sam wanted to drive you crazy that made you hold onto her hair, grabbing a fistful of those silky smooth tresses with one hand and balling your fist with her tank top on the other. You held for dear life, like she was all you believed in in the world.

Sam’s cheek flushed a deep red, yours too, and the sensitivity was starting to make you and her moan together – but the fiery passion behind Sam’s eyes told you that she was growing way too needy for this tease.

You were never so bold before in your life, and you wish you would’ve been bolder back then. But you wouldn’t let that repeat itself.

You said – no, demanded – plain and simple. “I need to suck your cock.”

Sam was taken aback, but pleasantly so.

Now, Sam’s back was against the wall, hips pushed forward as you undid the zipper and button of her jeans. Jeans that fitted her muscular legs so well, so snuggly, like tailored to accentuate her every attribute. Sam’s hand slowly fished out her cock, like she wasn’t about to lose her mind with arousal, but once it was finally out, you could see it was hard but not totally. It wiggled a little, it needed extra care.

On your knees, you knew nothing more than to please Sam.

Your hand wrapped itself around the shaft, lavishing the sensation of her warm, throbbing cock against your digits, admiring the look of it. It was so girthy and heavy in your hands, uncut and already leaking that tantalizing lubricant from the tip. God, that bulbous tip was clamoring for you to kiss it already, and those balls… so thick, so full, like Sam hadn’t had a proper release in so long. After your ogling finished, you didn’t waste a second in kissing the underside tissue of that cock, that sensitive spot that instantly had Sam tensing and moaning out loud. Then you gave open mouthed kisses along the shaft, going down its length and tasting every delicious inch. Sam appreciated that care, that sensual slowness, a strong, veiny hand placing itself on top of your head. Her fingers affectionately ruffled your hair, caressed your scalp, and followed your movement as you covered every inch of her girth with passionate kisses. Then, you wrapped your lips around that soft tip.

Sam gasped at the feeling, holding her breath.

Then you slid it into your mouth, sucking it in slowly. A long, drawn out moan came out of Sam, so reckless that it vibrated on the booth’s wall and nearly echoed outside of it. You took the first inch into your mouth, then bobbing your head back and letting it slip past your hungry lips, letting Sam see your saliva covering part of it. Then you brought it back into your mouth again, but this time bobbed your head back and forth along the length – as much as you could take it in. You were not an expert, but you were so needy and hungry that you did as you always dreamed of doing. So far, it worked perfectly. The way it felt in your mouth, the way it almost felt intrusive but so delicious, kept you going, and those moans encouraged you further. Whimpers, moans and out right profanities left Sam’s mouth as she felt the pleasure she had ran away from for such a long time. Your hands sought Sam’s thighs, holding steady as you continued to work more and more of that cock into your mouth, feeling Sam’s girth subtly get harder inside your mouth, pushing your walls ever so subtly, her veins ever more prominent.

You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, seeing how much you progressed around that cock. God, it looked so hard now, the tip was redder and you could see it throb more noticeably now. You looked up at Sam, seeing her smile briefly as she caressed your face. “You’re doing so good, baby. Please don’t stop now.”

With that encouragement, you took the beast right into your mouth again, this time you confidently bobbed back and forth and took almost all of it in. No matter, for your hand stroked the rest of that cock in rhythm to your sucking, the other hand cupping Sam’s thick balls and feeling her squirm with delight at the mere sensation of your fingertips caressing it, leaving no inch of Sam’s cock uncared for.  For short moments, you pulled all the way away to tap the tip of Sam’s cock against your hungry tongue, feeling and seeing that pre-come fly all around your mouth and into your tongue, making sure to look at the way her face writhed in pleasure as you did before you continued sucking that cock. Coveting for that warm cream into your mouth. Those unholy sounds of sucking, the moans, the tapping, all of it was so raunchy, so raw.

Such a delight to hear.

Then, you could feel Sam’s cock getting subtly harder, hotter, you could feel her balls twitch in preparation.

“Wait, wait!” Sam warned and with her strong forearms, she pulled your hungry head away from her cock and held you in place. Sam’s erratic breathing gave it away. Oh you were just away from the cock, it was steady hard and throbbing, nearly poking your lips as a tease. You looked up at her and saw her trying to keep her composure, the veins in her arms protruding as she held you in place. But that tip was so red now, the veins in her cock so prominent now, too. You almost felt compelled to do anything in your power to get back in there and have her come into your mouth, but Sam had other plans.

Tilting your head up by your chin, she made you look up at her as she leaned down and placed an ardent but quick kiss on your lips. When she pulled away and looked at you in the eyes, she was now in control. 

Now it was you pushed against the wall, but your pants were discarded alongside your robe. Your hands held onto Sam steadily as she carried you so effortlessly. Her arms going under your knees and holding your legs open for her, your back pressed on the wall. Your wet and needy pussy all for her to work with. You would think she would be wild and reckless, driven half to madness with the lust you felt as well, but instead she made sure to look deep into your eyes and align her cock just right against your entrance. With a soft reassurance, she reminded you:

“I’ll be gentle, baby.”

With the patience of a God and the will power of the most resilient of warriors, Sam pushed the tip of her cock into you slowly and paused, reading the way your face contorted to a mixture of delight and confusion. God, it felt so good to have her inside of you, but your walls hugged her too tightly. Sam was big, and you wanted to take every inch of her but your body was not yet ready. With the tenderness of a long time lover, Sam gently pressed her forehead against yours. “Come here, baby,” she huskily whispered. You captured her lips on yours, eagerly showing her that you wanted her still, that you felt every inch of passion she gave you and wanted more. The kiss, the tenderness, made you relax, it made it easier for Sam to slide in you deeper. And deeper. Then it reached that point of deepness that made your entire body quiver, the kiss instantly stopped as you pulled away and gasped. “Good girl, good girl,” Sam raspily praised, smiling at you as she felt the walls around her cock welcome her.

Sam pulled out so slowly, then back in. You dug your nails into her shoulders and she watched pleased at the way her cock was hitting spots that you hadn’t even thought you had. Rubbing sensitive flesh that soon began to greedily swallow her girth, possessively wanting it to stay forever. Sam stuck to her word, she was gentle and slow but no less passionate. Her hips worked smoothly as she thrusted in and out of you, her watchful eyes vigilant for any sign of discomfort in your face and her ears enjoying the sounds you were making. You could feel your body would start to truly tremble at any moment with how deep Sam could go in; you could feel that you would turn into a puddle with the way that she leaned back down to passionately place slow kisses along your collarbone and neck. A lover that missed no opportunity to shower you with love, controlling her own savage lust for your comfort.

She patiently waited for your command, until it came.

“Sam, please, faster.” 

And Sam obliged. Her hips kept their luscious movement and increased that steady rhythm she was just so good at keeping, pulling her cock away all the way out and then back in with confidence. That kind of stroke was mind blowing to Sam, it stimulated all of her cock, to the last nerve, but she did it and paced herself just to watch you clamor her name. “Is this good, baby?” She cheekily asked with a smile, her grunts not going unnoticed by you.

“It-It’s so good, Sam, oh my –,” you could barely say.

Then Sam began to go a little rougher now, truly thrusting into you deep. God, you had to hold onto her tightly, wrapping your arms around her, your legs starting to tremble on Sam’s strong arms. She did it again, and again, and you couldn’t hold your moans back. In all fairness, neither could she, and you thanked the heavens nothing was around to find you two in this primitive, raw state.

When she purposely pulled all the way out and slipped out of you, she relished in your annoyed grunt. With a chuckle, she leaned in to give you a kiss in hopes of placating your annoyance. But it was because she had far more in store for you.

May the lord forgive you, for you have sinned in the most egregious way.

Never in your life you thought you’d be in an empty church, bent over by the church pew, as Sam Carpenter slowly slides her cock back into your hungry, wet pussy. And yet, it was better than a dream.

Sam grabbed you by your hips and took total control of it all. The moment the thrusting began again, in that moderate rhythm that was so good but almost a tease, you and Sam moaned without a care in the world. Reckless indeed, as it bounced off the walls of the sacred home of God.

But you didn’t care, not with the way Sam was rocking you back and forth. She moved you against her thrusts. When she pulled out, she pulled you away, but when she thrusted in, she pulled you back and rammed herself all the way in, feeling her thick balls slap against your pussy. Over, and over, and over again. The wet sounds of skin slapping, the sensual groans of a hungry, dominant Sam Carpenter and the rocking of the wooden pew… It was all too sexy, too good to even process. 

“Your pussy is so tight, baby,” Sam growled out, a hand smacking your rear for a moment just to watch you squirm more. 

You knew it, you knew it by the way you couldn’t even control the way your walls sucked Sam in, just like you couldn’t control any inch of your body when Sam fucked you. 

Then she slowed down, holding your hips in place. “Don’t move,” Sam firmly said, shifting a little, but you didn’t know why.

Until you felt that first, slow thrust hit in just the right spot. “Oh my god!” You clamored for the first time, putting God’s name out there in vain – and not only in vain, but in such an unholy situation.

Something about the angle Sam was hitting now had your legs trembling more now and Sam knew how good this felt for you, so she made sure to go as painfully slow as possible. She rolled her hips so sensually, so smoothly like before, and it was driving you crazy. You could scream, you weren’t even sure if you were already on the verge of it, but your nails scratched the wood and you prayed for Sam to just get on with it. But she would, oh that cruel woman wouldn’t get to it.

“Please, Sam, please,” you pleaded finally. “Faster, I need it.”

Then Sam stopped, leading you to whine. She leaned down to your back, trailing surprisingly soft kisses all the way up to the back of your shoulder. “Are you sure, baby? Wouldn’t your partner–.”

“Fuck them,” you swore now, too. You looked back at her with pleading eyes, squeezing your walls around Sam’s cock and watching her instantly moan at the sensation. “Please, Sam. I want to come so bad.”

Wrapping her arms around your waist, buried so deep inside of you, Sam began to twirl her hips in slow circles as she spoke with such a sexy, fucking voice. “Good girl,” she paused to give your shoulder another kiss. 

When she pulled away, she grabbed you by your hips again and showed you what heaven truly felt like. With her every thrust you felt compelled to yelp, moaning out for Sam as she gave it to you rough. So tantalizingly rough that you felt your excessive amount of wetness everywhere, dripping down to Sam’s cream-filled balls. Then she gave it to you fast, relentlessly brushing your sensitive spot again and again with her thickness, the angle making it so hard to resist. 

You couldn’t even warn her, only calling out her name in such a high pitched moan that Sam could feel it coiling her gut for that sweet release. When your own walls squeezed her beyond the usual, when that warmth became so exquisite to resist, and when she felt that gush of pleasant wetness come crashing down against her cock, Sam couldn’t resist it either.

“F-fuck, baby, I’m going to come,” she barely warned out in hurried breath, her hips starting to stutter and stray from its once steady rhythm. Then you could feel her, shooting out thick ropes of her scream inside you, filling you up in a matter of seconds. But Sam didn’t stop thrusting, her erratic movements persisting only for a second as she kept going to ride your orgasm all the way, for however long it lasted.

And you weren’t even sure how long it lasted, recalling the feeling of Sam filling you up almost exacerbating what wave of pleasure and tingles all over your body, feeling your body tense and arch at how heavenly this pleasure was. She rode you out, she kept on ramming her cock deep inside you even when she was sensitive, making sure that you were all fucked out – indulging in her slightly masochistic tendency by overstimulating herself for your sake. God, you wanted her to keep on going for more, but you stopped her as the overwhelming sensitivity started to take over.

Sam sighed in relief at it, panting heavily and giving you a very soft, very small: “Thank you.” Sealed with a tender kiss to the back of your shoulder, and an affectionate caress down your back.

You were depleted, but felt so loved and satisfied, that you cared not for the wrath of God. 

But you were relentless and you didn’t let the movement of your hips falter for a second – hypnotized by the sensation of that wet, welcoming pussy swallowing you so desperately and eager. Every thrust was addictive, not just for you but for her. It was one of those raw moments filled with lust where all you could think of was that exquisite body of hers, where you could feel the way her nails dug into you, the way she desperately held your body as close as possible to hers and the way her wetness drooled and dripped. A sensation you truly felt like you couldn’t resist, a sensation where in any other situation you would come immediately from.

But not that busy morning.

Sam and you were holding back so hungrily, wanting this moment to last longer; relishing in every second of this moment that soon would pass. Who would have thought that your boss, always so elegantly dressed with suit, vest, a tie and dress pants, would hide such sensual lingerie beneath! Indeed, who would have thought that your superior was such a needy little slut who would beg for you like this? Her lips brushed against your ear for you to hear her whimpers loud and clear with every thrust, but you could also hear that incoherent babbling that sometimes slipped out from her fucked out mind. 

“Keep fucking me, please. I need to come,” she desperately whispered out, in total contrast to her strong and steady voice when she addressed the people below her.

The poor oblivious office workers could almost feel the heat emanating from their Boss’ office far away from them. People loosened their thighs and felt so strangely overwhelmed by heat despite the early morning still being rather chilly, like something had changed the atmosphere. An undeniable chemistry between you and Sam Carpenter, your feared boss.

Your beloved boss that came undone the moment her phone rang to call remind her of a meeting, the same woman who tensed up and held you tightly as she could barely contain her high-pitched moans. The loud communal noises of a discussion turning into an argument and the phones ringing outside muffled the transition from your guttural grunts to a higher pitched moan, unable to contain yourself any longer as Sam’s pussy hugged your cock tighter and warmer, enough to stroke you just the right, irresistible way. Clashing with her juices, you shot long, strong strings of cream deep into her and it just kept coming, and coming.

Sam’s body melted into you, relishing that bliss as she felt you empty yourself deep into her. Yet, when that high dropped she hardly felt fully drained from it, nor going back to a rational thought. Instead, she felt quietly hungry for more; she found her pussy closing and opening around your cock without realizing, milking every droplet and beckoning to keep you hard for her. It wasn’t until you pointed it out to her that she realized it. And yet, she felt she couldn’t stop herself now. 

“Please, I need more,” she gasped out, grabbing your face and engulfing you in a fiery kiss that was unbecoming of your boss. You responded with eagerness to combat hers, tacitly approving of her request for more, roaring to keep going for however long you both could.

You both were pushing your luck with this affair and you knew it, but by god was it a delicious escapade.