20
Vasilije
Oksana’s pussy squeezed me like a fist, and I clenched my jaw against the pleasure. Something strange was happening to me, though. Whenever I fucked, I didn’t care much about the girl attached to the pussy I was balls-deep in. I wanted them to come, but not because I wanted them to have pleasure, but because it made me feel powerful. And listening to a girl scream was sexy, and there was nothing better than feeling them coming on my cock.
Right up until the moment I slid inside her virgin pussy, I’d . . . fuck me. I liked giving her a dose of pain to go along with the pleasure. A few girls had tolerated me when I’d gone rough, but it was amateur hour in comparison to what I’d done to Oksana. The Russian had taken whatever I dished out and barely said a goddamn thing.
The sick fucker inside me whispered she liked it rough. She got off on the pain I inflicted. My blood rushed loudly in my ears, whooshing along with excitement. But then I’d shoved my cock inside her, and saw agony in her eyes, and I went cold. It was only fun when she liked it.
The slow pace I fucked her at was a nightmare of pleasure. She was wet but tight, and her muscles were tense, which probably made it hurt more. I distracted us both by kissing her. Got her to loosen up, and when she moaned, it broke the wall holding back the asshole I was.
I lifted onto my hands, gazed down at her pussy, and my cock pumping in and out of her. The thick muscle glistened with her juices, and there was the trophy I’d wanted. A smear of blood. Fucked up satisfaction overtook me. I’d been first to plant my flag. Oksana was all mine.
“It’s so hot,” I said between two tight breaths, “watching my cock fuck you.” And it felt even better.
She said nothing. Her face was blank, and I didn’t like it. She’d come alive when I’d had my tongue all up in her pussy, and I was greedy. I wanted more of that. “Does it still hurt?”
Oksana’s lips pressed together. She didn’t use words, but it was enough of an answer.
“How bad? Does it just hurt, or does it hurt but feel good, too?”
“It feels good, too,” she whispered.
A current jolted through me and my cock flexed, liking the sound of that. I dialed back the urge to drive into her. We weren’t there yet. I kept at the same pace, easing my dick in and out of her soaking body, watching the glide and how I disappeared inside her.
I thought of all the ways I was going to fuck her. Doggie style. Reverse cowgirl. Maybe bent over the back of the couch downstairs where I could watch us onscreen again. Definitely on the piano bench. We’d be on fire.
Oksana’s tense body beneath me began to relax one muscle at a time. Her clipped pants for air were interrupted by moans, and these were sounds of pleasure. The soft, sexy cries shot straight to my dick. I slammed my mouth over hers, giving her a kiss that was how I liked to fuck. Hard. Rough. Dirty.
She wasn’t going to come from sex her first time. She’d probably already made up her mind about it and nothing I’d do was going to change that. But I was glad she didn’t seem to be hating it. A few more times and I’d have her coming all over me.
I’d get her addicted to my cock, so when I came home from the dealership or some stressful bullshit, she’d be waiting by the door, salivating for me. No more empty house, or logging hours at some bar while I had to convince some lame girl to let me get my dick wet. None of the girls I’d found compared to the one I was currently inside. And she was mine.
Mine alone.
I jammed my hands under Oksana, between her back and the mattress, and railed into her tight pussy. I couldn’t wait to come inside her. Would my cum scald her raw insides? Was she already sore from taking all of me? It made my dick insanely hard.
The plan was to take my time, but I couldn’t hold it back. My hips moved faster than I wanted them to, responding to the driving need in my balls. I’d swear I’d been waiting a lifetime to fuck her, and now my body demanded satisfaction. It wouldn’t settle for anything less, and no more delaying the inevitable.
“Aw, fuck,” I groaned, crossing a point I couldn’t return from. This shit was about to happen, and once the decision was made, I went at her full force. I pistoned in and out of her, slamming our bodies together in a series of loud slaps. She gasped with each one. Her nails dug into my ass, holding on.
The orgasm erupted, spewing my pleasure deep inside her as I slowed to a jerky stop. My arms shook as I cased her body, trying not to smother Oksana with all of my weight. The orgasm hit me in waves, rocking back and forth like a seesaw of hot and cold bliss, slowing down on every turn until I could breathe again and hear over the blood roaring in my ears.
Her rapid breathing decelerated, and I buried my nose in the side of her neck, letting her hair tickle my face. She smelled good. Her skin was warm and soft, and it was crazy how comfortable I was right this very second. My cock was still lodged inside her. My sweaty chest stuck to hers.
I was tempted to stay here. I’d get hard again and maybe this time I’d make her ride me. Would she like feeling like she was in control, even if it was an illusion? But we couldn’t stay like this. I hadn’t eaten since lunch and was starving.
When I moved off her, I rolled onto my side, lying next to her on the spread-out robe. I’d thrown it down on the bed so we wouldn’t make a mess, but she’d barely bled. Her gaze was locked on the ceiling, so I grabbed her chin and pulled her head toward me.
Her face was blank. Not traumatized, or nervous, or even bored. Just . . . empty. Unease tightened uncomfortably in my chest. I shouldn’t care, but for some reason, I did. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Now that it’s over, I wish I hadn’t made such a big deal about it in my head.”
Did this chick just tell me that sleeping with me wasn’t a big deal? Anger flexed its muscles, stretching out as it prepared to take up residence. I was awesome at sex. A fantastic fuck. “You want me to make it a big deal? Next time, I will,” I threatened.
Her eyes went wide. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She rolled onto her side, facing me. “When are we . . . going to do that again?”
Anger disappeared faster than a snap of fingers. I had her flat on her back and was over her, my mouth attacking hers. I kissed her harder than I’d ever kissed another girl before. Usually I used it as a tool. A weapon to get what I wanted, but with Oksana . . . I didn’t.
I kissed her just for the hell of it.
Because you like her.
She was gorgeous, and talented, and I found her fascinating. She looked so pure and good on the outside, but inside she was dark like me. An evil creature dressed up in pretty packaging.
We made out, which was weird as fuck because usually the kissing came before the sex, but whatever. Maybe I hadn’t liked kissing before. It was a chore to get to the good part, except with her . . . it was a good part.
My stomach growled and finally I climbed off her. “Stay there.”
I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself off, and when I came back, I leaned against the door frame, crossing my arms. She’d followed my order, but had also pulled the robe on, covering herself.
“I like you better when you’re naked.”
“I was cold.”
Maybe it was the truth. I’d seen her naked plenty of times, she should be used to it by now. I went to the dresser and grabbed the red plastic bag, then tossed it down on the bed beside her. “This is for you.”
She stared at it like she expected the bag to explode. “What is it?”
She sat up, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and reached hesitantly for her present. The bag crinkled as she pulled out the book, and she seemed to recognize what it was instantly. Her gaze flew to me, and the question was loud in her eyes, “What’s this?”
“You have your theme song,” I said, watching her page through the empty composer notebook. “Now you’ll write mine.”
What was the emotion that flicked through her eyes? Interest? She stared at the paper. “I’m not sure I could fit all of you into one song.”
I grinned. “Then write a goddamn symphony.”
The emotion was interest. She liked this idea, but then she sobered. “That might take a while.”
“You’ve got something better to do?”
I watched as she curled her arms around the notebook and held it to her chest. She clutched it like I’d take back the book and the idea at any second. Not possible. I’d had her haunting song stuck in my head most of the morning, and decided I needed my own.
“It better not be like most of the garbage you wrote,” I said. “I want it like yours. Got it?”
She peered at me like I was an imposter, but nodded slowly, too stunned to speak.
“Good. The piano tuner comes tomorrow at noon.” I’d scheduled it around my lunch break so I could keep an eye on both Oksana and whoever the music studio sent over. “Get cleaned up. We’re going downstairs for dinner.”
She crawled off the bed, moving gingerly. Was her body reminding her she wasn’t a virgin anymore? I fucking loved it. I wanted her thinking about me every time she had an ache or saw the marks I’d put on her skin.
“What if I can’t do it?” she asked.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
She took a deep breath. “What if you don’t like what I compose?”
I shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll have to motivate your ass to try harder.”