The camera. The red blinking light.
It’s on. It’s recording.
The shaggy-haired guy must have left it on by mistake, I think. If I stand up and take my clothes off, and sit on Abel’s dick, the camera will capture it all. Forever and ever. Then the clip of it will be put out in the world, in front of a million people, who might see me with my husband. I can already feel their beady eyes on the screen, watching us, judging us, criticizing us, getting aroused by us.
But hasn’t it already happened before? That night when my mom dragged me out without letting me wear clothes, so I could bear my shame. People have already seen me, judged me, criticized me. They have already burned me at the stake.
Now, this will happen on my terms. I’m already ashes. But now, I will rise like a fucking phoenix. We will rise like a phoenix.
I face the man I love. He’s waiting for me, hard and aroused, but still waiting. I love him so much I might burst.
With a slight smile, I get up. My surroundings tilt a little, but it’s okay. I’ll survive. Abel’s hands fall to his sides, his hair all messy as he looks up at me. I fist the hem of my dress and take it off in one shot. Then off come my bra and my panties. I don’t stop or think until I’m all naked and flushed, standing in front of him.
If there’s a name for what happens once you’ve passed the stage of lust, then that’s Abel’s name, in this moment. His nostrils flare with every drag of his breath. His teeth are bared. Every vein on his arms, on the side of his neck, is bursting through the skin.
I put both hands on his shoulders and straddle his lap on the bed. My wet, soft pussy brushes over his jean-covered bulge.
“Then let them watch,” I whisper, bringing my hands down to his fly and opening the zipper. “Let them watch what you do to me. If you’re a fiend for me, then I’m your little monster. I have sharp nails like you have sharp teeth. If you’re sick, then I’ve got a little fever of my own.”
Once his hot, hard dick is out and in my hands, I line it up with my hungry cunt, his pre-cum-oozing crown brushing against my folds. He hisses and I moan. Then, in the next breath, I slide onto his erection, stabbing my core with the most delicious knife God’s ever made. My Abel’s cock.
Instantly, his palms grab onto my ass and his hips jerk up. I’m in heaven, my head thrown back, my long hair probably tickling the back of his hands as I moan, loud and high.
When I lower my face, I kiss his lips and he bites mine. “If you eat me out like a dog, then I’m going to fuck you like I’m your bitch in heat.”
I begin rocking, grinding on his length, slowly, carefully. This is a new position for me. Abel’s always the one in charge. But I’m determined to make it good, make him feel everything that he makes me feel when he’s moving inside me. So I twist my hips, go side to side, letting him feel the soggy walls of my core.
“Is that right, Pixie?” he rasps, watching me fuck him, watching me find my own rhythm. “You’re gonna fuck me like that, huh?”
I nod, now rising up on my knees before sliding back down on his erection. “Unh…”
Abel helps me glide over him, fisting the flesh of my ass. “God, Pixie. You aren’t as good as everyone thought you were.”
I look into his dark eyes. The eyes of a demon. A demon I love and adore. “I guess not.”
He smacks my ass, making me gasp and squirm over his length. Chuckling, he does it again. And again, as I move up and down and find a pace.
“Maybe your parents should’ve spanked you more. Or maybe Father Knight should’ve purged the sin out of you.”
God, why’s that so arousing? It makes my cunt clasp him even more tightly. This is sick and wrong and so fucking beautiful. Because it’s mine. It’s ours. Abel was right. Nothing we ever do together can be wrong. The relationship between a wife and a husband — a man and his woman — is the most sacred of all. Sacred and unique and pure.
“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” I confess, picking up speed as my knees grind into the mattress and my body jumps. “I was born this way. For you. For my sick Abel.”
“Fuck yeah, you were born for me.” With his free hand, he winds my hair around his wrist and pulls my head back, arching me up.
He noses the bottom of my throat, my breastbone, the valley of my tits, and I close my eyes, sighing in wonder and pleasure and satisfaction. I have no control over this fucking now. Maybe I never did. It’s okay.
With my hair in his hand, he fucks into me. He moves his hips and pushes into my channel. I’m suspended over him on my knees, kept steady by his hand, while I grip his shoulders and hold on to him. He’s riding me hard, brutal, his rough jean-covered thighs smacking into my flesh, leaving it all raw and red and horny.
He bites the flesh of my breast, making my eyes water and my mouth sputter. He tugs on my hair viciously, while he scrapes his teeth over my nipple, whispering, “You feel good, Pixie?”
My neck’s arched and tight at an angle, but it feels nothing but good. So I moan my assent.
He lets go of my hair and brings my face down, still fucking me, still nudging me with his dick, deep inside. “You wanna tell them, baby? You wanna tell them how good it feels?”
My eyes go wide, my heart pounding in my lips, where he just whispered those words. I’m confused. What does he even mean? Tell them how.
When I focus on him, I understand. He needs this. He needs this power. I only tasted people’s open condemnation a month back, but he’s been facing it for years now. No wonder he’s so wounded.
He needs this validation to complete the fantasy, this ritual of ours, and I’m happy to give it to him.
I get up from his lap and off his cock. I’m teetering; my feet have no energy, no life. Abel grabs my sides and turns me, and I slide down on his dick, my back pressed to his wildly breathing chest, his thighs on either side of me.
My legs are closed and it looks like I’m simply sitting, innocently, casually. It might as well be that I’m sitting on a church pew on his lap. Only I’m naked and my pussy is speared on his big dick. He’s so big behind me, still clothed but lustful. All-powerful.
His breaths are fanning along the side of my cheek as he fists the flesh of my hips, moving me, rocking me with one hand, hitting the upper wall of my pussy.
With the other hand, he forces me to look into the camera. The red-blinking light, the black, inanimate object makes me gush like a river.
“Imagine everyone in that town, Pixie. Every single one of them. They watched. But they never came to help.” His whispers are making him wild as well. The force of his hands on my hips has increased. I’m grinding down, rocking against him, and my mind’s flying to that night in the past.
“Now tell them. Tell them how good it feels. Tell them how good I fuck you.”
My heart’s slamming, trying to break the bones of my ribs. My bounces on his dick become embarrassingly haphazard at his words. I don’t have to be embarrassed though, because he groans in my ear and pinches my nipple. A dam breaks inside me, then.
My mouth opens and I say it. I say it all. I tell them how good it feels. I tell them how amazing it is when he’s inside me, fucking me like a madman. I tell them that I love him and I can’t live without him. And I don’t care what they think. I don’t care that they hate him or hate me. I married him anyway. I’m his for life and he’s mine, too.
I say it proudly, my chest thrown back, my eyes open and staring at the camera. I say it with my hands on my tits, worrying my nipples because I just can’t stop. I can’t fight what he does to me. I don’t want to. I’m in love and I want them to know it.
He seems to grow even bigger, even stronger, even more seductive as I say the words. I lose myself in it. I lose all sense of myself, my awareness, and it pushes me over the edge. I come, gushing, my pussy fluttering over his shaft, as Abel’s still pounding into me, breathing with exertion, all sweaty and musky.
Like the cum spouting out of my channel, the whispered words burst out of me, “I love him, Daddy. I love him so much.”
And then, I close my eyes and I’m simply breathing, floating on the clouds.
My consciousness returns when Abel grunts. He’s about to come and he’s in the process of pushing me up so he can jack himself off, and spill his cum somewhere out of my body. But I reach back and pull his hair. “Don’t leave me.”
He halts all movement, studying my features. His jaw clenches and I can see the ocean of emotions in his dark eyes. I run my fingers down the sharp peak of his cheek and repeat my plea. “Please c-come inside me.”
Abel whooshes out a breath, visibly shaking, and stands up. I stumble, my pussy coming off his cock. I’m confused as to what he’s doing. But he doesn’t let me ask any questions. He throws me on the bed where I bounce and the sheets feel surprisingly nice and soft against my overheated curves.
In a flash, his clothes are off. He’s naked, bronzed muscles dripping with power and lust. He puts his knee on the bed, dipping the mattress. Leaning over, his necklace swaying, he grabs both my ankles and pulls me toward him. I go with a squeal.
“Abel, what…”
His jaw is clenching like a heartbeat, rhythmically. God, his face is so intense. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.
He puts pressure on my thighs and raises them up to my ears, folding my body in half. I swallow in discomfort, but I forget all about it when he breaches my swollen, puffy pussy with a loud growl, making me scream at his invasion.
He’s so fucking deep. I didn’t even know the meaning of deep until this moment. I feel him in my stomach, my throat. He’s filling me everywhere.
Putting his hands on either side of me, he looms over my contorted body and starts up a rhythm. So hard that I shake with every thrust. So fast that I don’t have time to recover. I wish he’d say something, anything. But he doesn’t have to. He’s showing me with his body. He’s showing me what my words meant to him.
It meant going wild, going savage, reverting back to that time long ago when man was untamed, when man was still an animal ruled by instincts.
In the back of my mind I know that this is insane. I’m not on birth control or anything, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m being ruled by animal instincts, as well. I’m being ruled by this intense need to give him something. Something that only I can give. Something only a woman in love can crave to give the man of her dreams.
And then, it happens. Abel’s face scrunches up and he comes. Inside me.
I feel the very first spurt of his cock. It’s a tiny jerk, a little earthquake. A big bang — the third one in my life — that gives birth to new worlds. His dick ejaculates ropes of cream that coat the shaking walls of my cunt, hurtling me into a mini-orgasm. I open my legs even more, put my hands on my ass and stretch my legs.
After that first shot, I can’t distinguish between his throbs. It’s a constant buzzing. A constant feeding of my pussy with his cream. With his life-force. Until he collapses over me like an exhausted warrior.
An exhausted beast of a man who’s just fulfilled his purpose.
And somehow, I’ve fulfilled mine too.