Charlotte

Whatever. I. Want.

I look at Elliot’s chest and feel a pang in my own—right under my left breast.

He’s so grown. He’s so much bigger than I ever thought he could be—not just in size with his ripped abs that I’ve been shamelessly peeping at along with his shoulders, arms, and thighs that have filled out to max capacity—but also his entity. The very state of him has grown into something much more than I could’ve imagined. I always knew he’d become a huge presence in his own right, wherever it was meant for him to exist such as in the confines of the scientific community or in a suburb with a family. But he’s become something else, something much bigger. His whole being is as big as his brain—massively grand, extraordinary, and imposing.

I look to the bulge wanting to tear out of his boxers at his crotch. Of course, it just had to be as tremendous and as imposing as the rest of him.

It makes me woozy.

“Charlotte, are you okay?” asks Elliot.

His voice makes me quiver, like a tickle in my ear, and I look at his lips. They seem naked without the fine hairs of his beard and I want to dress the soft-pink plump flesh with saliva from a lick of my tongue.

I move in.

“Whoa,” says Elliot, gripping my shoulders with his firm, strong hands and pushing me back.

A burn fills my chest now. “I just want one.”

“One?” He raises his brow.

“One kiss.”

He smiles as he lowers himself to hike up my dress, pulling it above my waist then breasts, and over my head. The dress falls to my wrists where it can’t come off because my wrists are bound.

Elliot dips himself a little again, pulling my panties past my ass and down to the floor where I kick them off. He tucks his head under my arms to allow them to fall tied around his neck and he wraps his arm around my waist to lift me, sitting me on the counter, and nudging my legs open to get between them.

“You remember?” I ask. “You remember our one kiss?”

“We’ve already had the one,” says Elliot, entangling his fingers in my hair at the back of my head.

He bows to kiss my neck and licks his tongue up to my ear where he nips at my lobe.

The small sensation shoots through my entire body and now I’m desperate. The drug is working. I’m desperate for him.

“Kiss me, damn it.”

Elliot laughs. He’s laughing as he teases me through sweet soft kisses, which he peppers down to my breast until he reaches my nipple and kisses it.

“Is that what you want?”

“No,” I change my mind. “I want you to suck.”

“Do you now?”

“Mmm.” My breasts are swollen and aching. “I do, please.”

Elliot sucks up my breast. My back arches in response and his fingers trail down my front to my slit where he glides his fingertips up and down and allows them to dance, to play there for a minute to swim in the wetness pouring out.

He slips a finger into my pussy forcing my body to flood with a tingle stemming from his touch, but my lips still ache.

“Kiss me, Elliot. Just one kiss.”

“Just one,” he groans. “How about two?”

Elliot licks his lips and plants a kiss behind my ear, avoiding my lips on purpose to tease me as he glides another finger in me and pumps me with the two.

He kisses my earlobe and speaks with his lips planted. “You ready for a third?”

“A third?” I question with a mutter. The friction of the two is already enough.

Three fingers go in me and my body is reeling—absorbing every thrust of his digits reaching into my womb until he starts to dig.

The thick prick of his dick digs into the junction where my pussy meets my thigh and I worry that he wants to slip his dick in me along with his fingers. I don’t know if I could handle it. I don’t think so and I worry that the drug isn’t working.

“Elliot—”

“Take a fourth,” he says and he finally covers my mouth.

Four fingers wedge themselves into me, fucking me, and my body writhes. Oh fuck, I feel like I’m being stretched and torn at the center...

But I’m fine.

Elliot’s plump lips on mine and the stroke of his wet tongue invading my mouth makes me feel like he’s rescuing me all over again. There’s a fire between my folds, but Elliot’s kiss continuously extinguishes the burn and I don’t want the cycle to end. In fact, I want more of it.

“A fifth?” I mumble. Is it possible? Elliot withdraws then steps back.

He comes free of my arms as he drops his boxers. His cock is thick and long and hard—maybe too long and I bite my swollen lip.

“How about nine?” he asks and fixes his glasses. “Do you want all nine?”

Oh, this man. I look at him—this amazing man in glasses. I remember how needy but sad he use to look through the window. He fills me with regret. I’m a horrible person. I don’t deserve a big-brained, well-endowed man who possesses the heart and bravery of a lion.

“I can’t do this,” I say and come down from the counter.

“No, no, Charlotte,” he says, cupping my face. “You’re fighting the drug. Just let it do its thing. Stop thinking and let it take over. Can you feel it working? Does it make you feel good being next to me?”

Elliot strokes his long length then grabs my hand to wrap his length and fist him. I stroke him. He’s so long and I feel around his mushroom tip with my fingers of my other hand to examine its largeness. It excites me. Oh my, does it excite me. I smooth the wet tip with my thumb, swirling the slight slickness over the head. He groans, “Does the drug make you want to fuck me?”

Elliot licks his lower lip and it turns me on. I regret treating him poorly for so many years, but I have more regret for not kissing him back in that one perfect moment. I don’t want to live with any more regret.

 “I do want to fuck you.”

Elliot’s face changes. It’s a look I’ve never seen before—solemn, serious, determined.

He grabs the chair and fixes it next to me against the counter and grabs my arm, furiously turning me around. He grabs my leg and props my foot up on the seat, raising my knee high to open me up. He pushes me forward by the back of my head to lean over the counter then props his foot up on the chair next to mine and he enters me.

It’s slow at first and I grab onto the cold faucet, absorbing his thick head and the friction of his shaft until I feel a stab in my core.

“Ah,” I yelp and I feel another stab, then another, and another.

“Ow, Elliot,” I cry. “It’s too deep.”

“I’m not even all the way in yet, Charlotte,” he says. “Tell me you can take it all. Please Charlotte, I’m burning to be all the way in.”

Elliot saved me from a fire once. It’s only fair I save him now. I clench my teeth. “I can take it all.”

A scream escapes my vocal chords as he grabs my hips and slams into me. He slams into me repeatedly down to the root of his cock, going harder and faster, tearing into my entrance and into my gut. I lean my cheek on my hands over the faucet for support.

“Oh no,” he says and yanks my head back with a firm pull on my hair at the nape of my neck. “You look at me,” he commands. “You look at me in the mirror and you watch me.”

I look up, I don’t just see Elliot fucking me, I hear him. The smacking of my ass against his groin fills my ears, but there’s another sound—it’s me. I can’t stop whining. His dick is too deep.

“Elliot,” I whine.

“Do you see me?” he asks, gripping my hair tighter and pulling my head farther back.

“Yes,” I answer—my eyes on his reflection.

“Do you see your geeky neighbor from next door inside you?”

I nod, closing my eyes trying to handle this, handle him.

But he smacks my ass and yanks my head back by my hair once more.

“Open your eyes!” he shouts. I peer at him. “I got you, Charlotte,” he affirms to himself. “I fucking caught you and I want you to watch me fuck you.”

Oh God! I understand my feelings now about Elliot. It makes me wary. He was always chasing me and I was afraid that the only thing he ever wanted was to get a rise out of me—the same rise he would get whenever he’d scare me with one of his dumb bugs when we were kids.

But, as if Elliot’s big brain can read my mind, he pounds me even harder with a couple of bangs then pulls out, turns me around, and kisses me.

“Mmph,” I moan into his mouth because it feels deep. The pang that bores into my chest from his kiss goes deeper than the length of his prick.

“Don’t worry, Charlotte,” he says, noticing I’m trembling from the raw sensation between my legs and the soreness in my belly. He undoes the necktie and pulls my wrists free. “I’m a smart man. I’m not that pain-in-the-ass kid from next door anymore. I know you need more than a good fuck. I know you need love.”

Elliot wraps his hands under my ass to pick me up so I straddle my legs to wrap them around his waist as he carries me to the bed. I nuzzle my nose against his smooth face and he steals a kiss.

His lips are plump and soft and wet, just as I remember, but he kisses me hard as he lays me down to settle on top of me. He nudges my legs open with his knees and reaches down to rub my clit. He enters me and rubs me as he fucks me.

I look up to his face. His glasses are crooked and hanging halfway off his nose and I fix them for him. I fix them because I want him to get a good look at me. I want him to watch me come.

“Charlotte, you’re getting tight,” he says and he’s right. I can feel ecstasy rising from the pressure and pain of all that he is doing to me. “Let me see you. Let me watch you come. Come with me.”

The whole idea that Elliot is watching me sets me on fire, but he’s penetrating me so deep and hard I can hardly focus on coming for him until I feel my womb contract. It’s like he’s banging on it, banging it open, begging to come in. That dumb kid from next door is banging on my front door again because he wants to play, except I know it’s not with bugs or baseballs or other stupid boy stuff. Elliot just wants to play with me.

His mouth lands on my breast. I feel his tongue playing with my nipple and he is irresistible. I can’t help but let him bust down the door.

“Elliot!” I cry as I come on his cock.

“Oh fuck, Charlotte,” he shouts, pushing up over me to watch me climax and he comes, too.

We are staring at each other, watching one another orgasm as Elliot’s hot cum fills my womb.

We both start to laugh at ourselves as we are both writhing—our bodies jerking in a silly display, like teenagers in post-climax release.

But we stop laughing when Elliot falls heavily onto me to kiss me and professes, “I love you, Charlotte. I’ve always loved you. Don’t run away from me anymore.”

I swallow hard. I’m not sure what to say. I feel like I want to say it back, but if I let him know how I feel, he might stop chasing after me. And I need him to chase me—to always chase after me.

I decide to say nothing, but I wrap my legs and arms around him tight. The last thing I want is for my geek to use his big brain to figure me out and get away.