Bennett
**the next day**
I can’t get it out of my head. Can’t get her out of my head.
Darci.
All in red.
The all being limited.
Only strips of lace covering her sinful body.
Her image dances in front of my eyes as though she’s right there, close enough to touch. It’s unrelenting.
Not that I want my fantasy to let up. I never, in my life, care to let go of that memory. I want it as a reality. Loyal in its nonstop loop. I’d kidnap her if I could, make her wear that and only that as she walks around my house, only dressing as the need for us to go out necessitated it.
Last night was something else. An all-nighter. No booze required. Or food for that matter. Just me, Darci, and our nakedness. After I had fun with my Riding Hood, of course.
She wasn’t lying, her need was, is, insatiable. In the end, I thought I’d near broken my dick. But we were crazed in our unyielding need. The more we touched, the more we tasted, the more we craved, the more we felt we’d die without another touch, another taste.
I thought I was ruined before. I was convinced nothing I’d experienced with Darci Walker could surpass what I’d already felt.
Then last night happened.
She dropped a bombshell.
A red laced, fairy tale of bombshells.
She shattered the invisible ceiling of how far I was certain my feelings and hunger for her went.
I was naïve.
Maybe ignorant.
I was blind.
Not anymore.
Ruined.
Completely. Utterly. Ecstatically. Ruined.
She left my house in the early hours of the morning; skin flushed and eyes lazy with satisfaction. The sultry pull of her stare obvious in what we’d done, in what we’d shared. I wanted to parade around town with her on my arm. I wanted everyone to know that we were an us.
That she was mine.
And more importantly, more completely, that I was hers.
I let the shampoo lather in my hair and run over my face and neck, eyes held tightly closed. The hot water of the shower pelts heavily onto my neck, my head submerge under the constant spray of water.
Last night, I felt like I’d won, even just the smallest victory, but it was there. I’d edged forward, pushed against her closely compact walls and I’d succeeded. She came to me. She needed me. Admittedly, she only confessed to craving me sexually but conceded that it was me that could make her feel better. Me who could scratch her incessant itch. That I was the only one that could please her the way she needed.
Success.
A win.
However small. I’ll take it. I’ll stand on my pedal stool and claim my victory because without knowing it, Darci Walker has begun moving toward me. She has started trusting me as her other half without even knowing it. She doesn’t realize it yet, but I know her well enough to know what she’s doing. Her conscious is fighting closer to me with every passing day because Darci doesn’t give her body away without her heart invested. Her mind wouldn’t allow it. The connection, the trust, the faith and belief needs to be there. Darci believes, she has conviction in what we share. Whether it’s a conscious decision or one she’s stepped into without realizing it completely, she’s made it and I couldn’t be fuckin’ happier.
Tipping my head back, I use the palms of my hand to push the excess water from my face, it being replaced immediately by the rain of hot water. I push my hair back from my face, opening my lips to catch a mouthful of water, spitting it back into the spray of the shower. Turning to let the massage of water hit my back, I startle.
“Darci.”
She smiles shyly. “Sorry, I…” she closes her mouth, cutting off her words before exhaling her nerves heavily. “You said last night, that anytime…”
“I meant it. Wanna join me?” I tip my head, inviting her in and her eyes close on a relieved breath.
She discards her clothes quickly, moving to place her glasses next to the basin and stepping into the shower without a doubt crossing her mind.
“Hi,” she offers bashfully, stepping closer.
I smile wide, eyes skating over her bare body before landing on her eyes. “Hi.”
Reaching a hand toward hers, I entwine my fingers with hers, edging her forward and flush against my wet skin.
Resting both her hands against my chest, I lean in, letting my lips meet hers. She instinctively moves into my body, her hands caught between our bodies as our kiss deepens. Our lips and tongues meet in a slow caress under a cascade of water.
I turn her body with mine, pushing her back against the shower wall, deepening the stroke of our tongue. She takes it eagerly, and I swallow her heady moan, biting her bottom lip. My lips meet her jaw, her neck; devouring the flavor of her skin. I tongue along the column of her arched neck, collecting the water from the shower, replacing it with the wetness of my tongue. I want my taste covering her completely. I want to cover her skin, her body, in every possible way. I want her to be engulfed by everything I have to give her. Everything I want to give her.
“Bennett,” she cries out, her tits pushing farther into my chest. I take her cue, moving my lips down her sternum, across her full and heavy tits, taking a nipple into my mouth and sucking it hard.
She screams out in pleasure, her hands moving into my hair, pulling the strands while pushing me harder into her greedy body. I lap it up, my enthusiastic mouth moving from one nipple to the other. My hands kneading the soft supple flesh as I go.
Dropping to my knees, my lips trail down her full and rounded stomach. Tasting her skin, leaving the kiss of my tongue along her body. Meeting the smooth apex of her thighs, I place a soft kiss there, lingering, eyes tipped upward to watch her. Her head is rested against the cool tile, dark eyelashes brushing the skin framing her eyes. I wait a moment, my lips touching just above the point she wants me, teasing her to look at me. She does, chin tipping down, her amber colored eyes clashing with mine in evident need.
Keeping our stare, I move lower, my tongue stretching to flick her oversensitive bud. She inhales strongly through her nose, eyes remaining open as she exhales on a shaky cry.
I kiss the spot my tongue just tickled, pulling back only to lean forward to suck the delicate flesh into my mouth.
“God. Bennett,” she whispers, tilting her hips to drive farther into my face. Bending her knee, I hook it over my shoulder, directing her knee outward, opening her up to me. The warmth of my breath strokes along her exposed pussy and she attempts to drag her knee back toward my head, searching for the relief of pressure.
I give her my tongue instead. A hard, thick lick through her plush folds, teasing her clit with the tip of my tongue before repeating the move. Like always, she tastes like heaven, candied caramel exploding over my taste buds. I can’t get enough. The wetter she becomes, the better she tastes and the more my tongue and lips move in a mix of licks, sucks, and kisses to devour her flavor.
Her hips grind into my face, faster and faster in time with my over-zealous mouth. Hands gripped into my hair, she holds me close as her pelvis pushes boldly into me.
I growl my approval into her skin and she whimpers at the feel.
“Bennett,” she groans.
I offer a feather-like drag of my tongue in response.
“Ben-nett,” she begs.
Tongue pointed, I tease her clit a quick side-to-side caress.
“Ahhh….” She rips at my hair. “Bennett.”
Her body is shaking under my touch, pushing impatiently into my face. She’s close. Balancing on the edge of her orgasm. Pulling her clit into my mouth, I suck on her hypersensitive flesh. Her hands fly to the wall, my name a scream ripped from her throat as she coats my face with her climax.
Gently placing her foot back on the floor of the shower, I stand, using my thumb to drag along my chin, collecting the cum decorating my face. Her eyes follow the move, settling on my thumb. I push it between her lips, letting her taste herself off my skin. She sucks it clean, and I move in to kiss her mouth as my thumb drags down her chin, meeting my index finger to keep her face locked where I want it.
Always ready, Darci lifts her leg, wrapping it around my waist, her small hand moving between our two bodies to stroke my rock-hard cock. Ever impatient, she lines it up, my head teasing her opening, sliding in and out in fervent shifts of our hips.
Breaking our kiss, Darci’s eyes meet mine, her lips a breath away from my own. “Bennett. Honey. Fuck me. Please.”
I smash our lips together once again, my hips roaring forward, slamming my cock into the firm, burning heat of her cunt. Her mouth opens on a silent scream, one that I swallow, my teeth biting her bottom lip on a feral grunt. I keep our hips as connected as I can with her swollen stomach between us, me buried deep within her body. Rolling my hips once, twice, I stretch her, I touch inside of her body as deep as I can go.
Sliding an arm up the cool tiled wall, I brace it beside her face, my free hand cupping her ass cheek. Face tucked into her neck, I assault her skin; biting, kissing, sucking, finally pulling myself from her body and thrusting back inside.
A roll of my hips on a slow backward drag. A heavy thrust back into her body.
Roll.
Thrust.
Roll.
Thrust.
Her leg tightens at my waist. Her nails dig into my back, piercing the skin. The inner walls of her pussy pulse, vibrating in eager release. Her body burrows farther into mine, our already connected skin itching to cement together, wanting to make us one. Her shaky breaths tickle my collarbone. She cries out my name and it sounds like a plea. It sounds like a needy whimper. It’s desperate. It’s satisfied. It’s wanting. It makes my balls tighten and the easy rhythm of my body to falter.
“No,” she cries, pulling me in closer, flexing her hips forward. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” It’s a chant. Said over and over again in fraught need.
“Gonna come, Darci.”
Her head moves from my neck, her lips finding mine as we both fall into pieces, our bodies clawing at one another, the sound of our simultaneous orgasms echoing in the acoustics of the shower.
Her leg drops heavily from my arm, her head tipped back against the tiled wall, eyes closed, her whole-body racking with the viscous exhales of air from her body.
Opening her eyes, her head falls forward lazily, our noses meeting, foreheads touching. “I always thought the idea of coming together was something exaggerated by movies and books. Shit. It felt good.” She smiles, eyes closing to relish the memory. “So good.”
I kiss her lips softly, and her smile turns dreamy, a quiet hum sounding behind her lips.
We finish our shower in relative silence. She lets me wash her body, my hands running over her soft skin and as good as it feels, I feel almost remorseful, regretful that I’m removing what we just did from her skin.
She repays the favor, her eyes following each movement of her small soapy hands skating over my body.
Stepping from the steamy space, I hand Darci a towel and pout purposefully when she covers her body. She laughs lightly. “Can you pass me my glasses, please? You’re a bit fuzzy.”
Tucking my towel tightly around my waist, I retrieve her glasses, standing in front of her face to place them on her face. I glide my thumbs along her cheekbones. “There she is.”
“Think that should be my line, I can actually see your handsome face now,” she jokes timidly. “I like your hair all messy like this. It’s like my own little secret.”
“That right?” I hum, placing a thumb on the thick cushion of her bottom lip. “You can have all my secrets, Darc. You just gotta believe it.”
Pulling her lip down, I remove my thumb, stepping back from her space. Our eyes connect and we stay that way for a minute that doesn’t seem long enough.
“I should go,” she finally speaks, the regret and uncertainty in her face open for me to see.
**two days later**
“Fuck, Darc,” I groan, my hand twisting in her hair, pushing myself deeper into her throat.
She moans her approval, the sound vibrating along the entire length of my cock. My eyes roll back in my head, my head thumping back into the wood of Darci’s office door.
Her small hand grips me firmly, skating up and down the velvet touch of my dick in time with her mouth. Her free hand toys with my balls, massaging them confidently in her smooth palm.
Removing me from her mouth on a pop, I tip my head down to watch her tongue drag across the underside of my cock, working the pulsating vein of my shaft. She kisses my head, dragging the tip of her tongue across my slit as she meets my eyes under her lashes. Her painted lips circle before swallowing me down to her throat once again.
Dragging a clammy palm down my face, I groan out her name. She likes that. Her name scratched from my throat. It gets me the vibrating hum every time. Which makes my knob leak with my impending release, kissing her tongue with my taste. She likes that too. It gets me the vibrating hum as well.
She’s greedy when she sucks my cock. Fucking loves it. Go figure. A woman that enjoys giving head. I thought they didn’t exist. A myth. A falsehood made up by some douchebag to convince women they could love it too. But Darci, shit, she lives for it. I see the way she clenches her thighs together when she moves my cock in and out of her mouth, fighting for some relief for her damp pussy. There’s no faking the way her eyes hood over in undiluted pleasure. She gets off on this.
Like I’ve said, ruined. She’s ruined me and I don’t fucking care.
Totally. Fucking. Ruined
Her teeth graze my shaft, my head, following a soft caress of her tongue and I’m done. I roar out my release into the open space of her office, my hot spurts emptying into her gluttonous mouth, her throat swallowing to take every last drop.
Sitting back on her heels, she glances at me momentarily, a victorious grin transforming her sinful mouth. I shake my head on a smile, unable to find a coherent thought in my euphorically gratified mind.
The shrill ring of her work phone startles us both and she glances at her watch.
“Shit.” She stands abruptly, turning away from me to rush to her phone. “It’s my potential new coffee supplier.”
“Darci Walker speaking.” She waits a beat, head tipped down, eyes focused on her desk. “Well, thank you. I’m just finishing up on another call, would you mind holding for a minute. My apologies, it ran longer than anticipated.”
She waits for their confirmation, pressing a button on her handset before finally looking up to me.
“Didn’t think I took too long to blow my load when your mouth was on my cock, Riding Hood.” I cock an eyebrow, and she breathes out an embarrassed laugh.
I wink over at her, slowly tucking my lipstick stained cock back into my pants and fixing my belt into place. “You gotta a little bit of,” I gesture to her lips and brow furrowed she picks up a small mirror glancing at her reflection in horror. She moves her thumb under her bottom lip, cleaning the smudge of red from her face. I watch her do this in fascination. The quick movements of her hand removing the remnants of what we just did from her mouth.
All cleaned up, she looks at me expectantly, then back to her beeping phone.
Lifting a hand in farewell, she returns it with a rueful smile and I turn walking from her office like a discarded sex slave.
**later that night**
“Hello?” The question in her voice makes me smile unconsciously. I can see her clearly in my mind, peculiar shaped eyes wide at my name crossing her cell screen. The nervous push of her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“Hey there, Riding Hood.”
A pause. A quick intake of air. A soft exhale of nerves. “Hi.”
“Was thinking that we should organize a time to head to a few places to check out some baby stuff.” That’s a partial lie. Clearly not the reason for my call, but still true.
Her line remains quiet, her quick succession of breaths the only sound reaching my ears. I give her the time to process, to gather her words as I lay stretched out on my bed, one arm braced behind my head.
Eventually she speaks, her words softly spoken, the obvious shock at my invitation clear in the way her words are delivered. “You’d wanna do that? It’s just, I, well, I invited Frankie to come along with me soon, I guess I assumed you wouldn’t be interested.”
My head pushes farther back into my pillow, the inadvertent stab of her stuttered statement ceasing my ability to form a coherent thought.
She reads my silence correctly. “I’m sorry, Bennett. I’m so bad at this and I keep hurting you with my cowardice. Of course, I should’ve asked you. Meaning, I would love to go with you.”
I force myself to relax my hurt feelings, letting myself believe that as soon as she realized her thoughtlessness, she rectified it.
“Glad to hear it, Darci.” My voice is low, unobtrusive along the line.
An awkward silence descends between us and I move my cell from my ear to sigh heavily. This wasn’t what this was supposed to be. Suddenly, the smallest mention of our future has once again cast our relationship, or blinded attempt at one, into further uncertainty.
“So, how you feelin’ after today?” I change the mood with a quick drawl of my vocal cords, letting my soft-spoken burr flow through my cell with unconcealed need.
Darci coughs, clears her throat and swallows audibly down the line. “Good.”
“Good? Feel I left you a little, I don’t know, unfulfilled?”
She laughs quietly, the sound bashful and maybe a little embarrassed. “You don’t understand how much doing that for you does for me then.”
“You can say sucking my cock, Riding Hood. I don’t understand how much sucking my cock does for you.”
“Yeah,” she concedes on a breath.
“Still.” I shift on my bed, my cock already hardening at just the thought of Darci’s red lips circling my knob. “I feel like I left you, I don’t know, without a hard place.”
Her amused laughter tickles my eardrums and I pull my arm from behind my head, pushing my hand into my boxers. “So, I thought, because you’re not here, we could have a little fun this way.”
“Like, phone sex?” She gulps, and my cock grows rock solid at her modesty. It still drives me crazy with need. I love my uninhibited Darci, but I love, fucking go wild over my shy and humble girl. I feel her timid and demure fumbling stroke along my ego like she does my dick.
“Yeah, baby, like phone sex.”
“Oh.” I could imagine the circular purse of her lips, the soft O her brightly painted mouth would create with that discreet whimper.
“Turn FaceTime on for me, Riding Hood.”
It’s an instruction. A quietly bitten demand spoken with temptation.
“You wanna watch?” Her voice hits an octave I’ve never heard from her before, and I wait only a second to let her calm down before I speak again.
“Damn fucking straight I wanna watch, Darci. I wanna see what me talking you through what I’d do to your body if I was there, does to you.”
She whimpers into her cell and I smile triumphantly.
“Get naked. Call me back on FaceTime.” I end the call, removing my boxers and waiting for her to call me back.
It takes her a few minutes, but I knew it would. Knew she’d take a moment to freak out before swallowing her nerves, her need for release winning out, as it always seems to.
Her cheeks are bright red, her eyes wide under the frame of her glasses, when our call connects and I can finally see her face.
“Prop your call on your bedside table, Riding Hood. When you’ve done that, lie back on the bed, legs open so I can see all of you.”
I hear her movements, but the screen remains at her face, unwilling to move it to her naked skin just yet. “Are you naked?”
I lick my lips at the coy question, nodding my head on an arch of my eyebrow.
She disappears from the screen, her bed coming into full view. “Can you see the bed?”
“Yeah, baby.” My voice cracks, making my desperate need for her obvious.
Walking toward her bed, I watch her beautifully sculpted body climb into position, gifting me the most suggestive view of pussy and ass. “Are you wet?”
Turning, she lays back on her elbows, her legs bent to shield my view of her face. “Drenched,” she admits, slowly parting her thighs to give me what I want.
I exhale heavily from my nose, my hand reaching down to pump my cock. Hard. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a really pretty pussy, Darci?”
She shakes her head quickly, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
“Prettiest one I’ve ever seen. Fuck me, Lady Paradox. Touch yourself, slide your fingers over yourself. Softly,” I finish, my hand working my cock in a fast caress to the finish line.
She does as instructed without delay, her head tipping back immediately as her fingers glide deftly through her folds. She moans my name, an easy show of gratitude for what she’s doing to her own body.
“Pinch your nipples, baby.”
Dropping back fully onto her bed, she does as she told, her entire back arching off the mattress as her fingers simultaneously attack her tits and clit.
I growl out my approval.
Groan when I see her movements falter.
Jerk my cock harder and faster with every movement of her hands.
She screams my name. Begging me for me. As if I’m the one there, rubbing her pussy to orgasm.
Fuck.
I’d give anything to be the one there.
The one slipping my hand through her wet folds and biting her nipples with hard pinches of my fingers.
“Inside,” I grate out, and she obeys. Instantly. Two fingers sliding inside her body in a single movement, her palm resting severely on her clit. Her body is shaking with every drive of her fingers, her back bowing with every push on her hypersensitive bud, her voice cracking on every needy whimper as her fingers tweak her nipples.
I blow my load without warning. The warm spurt of my release coating my hand and stomach as her name grates my throat on an untamed growl.
She follows me into oblivion only a second or two later, her thighs clamping shut on her hand, her neck and back bent painfully in an intense and mind-blowing orgasm.
***two weeks later***
Every day. At least once. Sometimes more.
Every single fucking day.
I’ve touched every inch of her body.
Fucked her in every position imaginable.
In every space of my home.
Of hers.
At The Coffee House.
Both our cars.
Archer and Annabelle’s.
Shit. Toby and Willow’s.
The Shallow.
We haven’t stopped fucking. It’s amazing.
Unlike anything I’ve ever felt or experienced.
She’s giving me an education on how to please her. Fuck, on how she can please me.
Jesus.
Who would’ve thought? Timid and shy Darci Walker was a fucking wildcat.
I should be ecstatic.
I should be puffed up on testosterone.
I should feel manly and accomplished.
I please my woman.
Constantly.
I give her what she needs.
I make her feel good. Satisfied.
But as much as I feel amazing in the moment, I feel so fucking empty afterward. I feel used. I feel unnecessary. Unwanted.
Because she bails.
Every. Fucking. Time.
She leaves, as fast as she fucking can.
As far away from me as she can get.
She leaves, and I feel bare and hollow.
Because I want more. I want her heart. But as much as she connects with me sexually, she guards the most important part of her so heavily, I think I might die trying to break down her walls.