The Casanova Experience EPIC-logue

Amy

One Year Later

Thousands of fans cheered in the United Center when Chandler hit a shot. It was the fourth quarter of a game against Detroit. Chicago's star player had injured his ankle so all of the papers were saying they wouldn't even make it past the first round of playoffs.

This gave Chandler his big shot to play, and he hit four three pointers to put the bulls up by two with seven seconds to go.

I could feel the energy in the stadium, all around me, so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Andrea and Jake sat next to me in the front row. They'd gotten a babysitter for their littlest one, but Tate, now eleven, had joined us.

“Holy shit, Amy, how the fuck did you keep quiet this whole time about the fact that your boyfriend is a star athlete?” Jake beamed, his arm around Andrea. I swear, there wasn't a single picture before last summer of him smiling, but around Andrea and the kid, it's all he did. I'd never seen a bad boy take such a dramatic turn in personality.

Except I had seen it happen. With Chandler.

After we drove up from Murphysboro a year ago now, I'd felt as though Chandler had died and been born again. He immediately found a spot on an NBA team, and every sports radio pundit from New York to LA was wondering where this ‘hidden talent’ had come from.

Tate, Jake and Andrea’s adopted boy, might have been Chandler's biggest fan.

Chandler guarded their star player as he came down the court with the ball.

Honestly though, as much as I liked watching his games, my mind drifted to what we’d been doing last night.

* * *

I lay on the bed, face down. My ankles and wrists tied to the bedposts, I could barely move. The lights were dimmed in our apartment, and even if they weren't, I was blindfolded so I wouldn't have been able to see a thing. Chandler’s breath and his body rustling were two of the only things I heard.

“Are you ready for me, Squirt?” his deep voice said behind me. I trembled, conscious from the indent in the mattress that he was kneeling on it close to me. He ran a fingertip along my body, starting at my ankles, slowly dragging it across the flesh of my thighs and ass, down the valley of my lower back, continuing his path until he reached my neck. He squeezed softly with his hand, not enough to hurt, but enough for me to feel that this was a very strong man in control of my sexual destiny. Strong enough to hurt me if he so desired. He wouldn't.

“I think so,” I breathed.

“You think so?” Chandler imitated. I could feel him grinning as he said the words.

I swallowed and involuntarily pulled on all the ropes, causing my torso to tense. “I mean I am,“ I whispered.

I felt the bed cave in a little between my legs, and I thought he might be kneeling on the mattress.

When I felt both of his large palms rubbing in circles on my ass cheeks, I knew I was right. I wanted him and everything he chose to give me.

“Do you trust me, Amy?” he asked.

“Yes. You know I do,” I said.

I could lie to myself and say that I'd actually trusted myself around other men, but that'd never been true. Chandler was the one and only man who I'd gifted my entire being to. He instinctively knew what to do, just how to press my buttons.

“Good,” he said, and I could feel the heat of his naked body as he leaned over me, the warmth of each muscular arm on either side of my ribs. They must have been just a hair’s breadth from swiping my skin, because I swore I could feel his energy radiating into me.

I had no idea how he was staying balanced, but I felt one of his full hands as it massaged my lower back up to my shoulder and neck, somehow a finessed but strong grip at the same time. Maybe the fact that Chandler played a sport that requires strength and a strong grip at once has given him an added superpower: massage professional.

“Chandler, God that feels good.”

“And I haven't even started with the oils yet.”

“Mmm” I moaned, drawing the sound in the back of my throat. I relaxed my appendages while Chandler worked back and forth down my upper back and neck, the oil application softening and smoothing my skin. With nothing to look at but the black cloth of the blindfold I was wearing, I felt so relaxed as though I might float away.

In a moment of introspection, I wondered how the hell I'd gotten this damn lucky. The man who I'd fantasized about--touched myself to since week one of meeting him--was mine. I'd thought about his big arms as arm porn, and soon those same arms would be pulling my hair as he drove his thick cock deep into me, making me orgasm like it was his fucking mission on earth.

“Amy,” he whispered in my ear. “What are you thinking about?”

Fuck. The damn man always knew when I was thinking dirty thoughts, it seemed. How did he read my mind? Who knew. But I refused to lie to him, however dumb, seemingly insignificant, or otherwise embarrassing I judged my own thoughts to be. We'd had long talks about the importance of truthfulness and vulnerability and how we would always be that way with each other. I didn't doubt that knowing I could so fully be myself with someone contributed to the complete disappearance of my depression since the day we met Chandler’s father. So I didn’t have any problem telling him exactly what was going through my mind.

“I was thinking about how good your cock is going to feel so deep inside me once you finally fuck me.” I spoke in a mostly even tone, though my voice caught at the end.

Chandler said nothing, and his hand stopped the motion he had been making on my back. For a few moments, all I could hear were the deep breaths he was taking.

“Hey,” I whispered, a little anxious. “What are you doing?”

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing, Amy,” he growled back. “I’m stroking my cock to that nice, thick ass of yours. You have a particularly nice ass, Squirt. You knew that though.”

“Holy fuck,” I breathed out. I always thought my ass was okay, but Chandler’s obsession with it made me feel even cuter.  

“That’s right, Amy,” he growled, leaning close to my ear. “I’m thinking about fucking you right now. I’ve got my hard cock out, and I can’t wait to push this thing deep into your throbbing pussy.”

“I’m so wet, Chandler, just do it already. Please.”

“You want to feel my cock inside you?”

“Ung-huh,” I tried to nod but my chin was stopped by the pillow, preventing the full expression of the movement.

“Alright.”

I felt a heavy thud of flesh strike my ass with a slap.

“How does that feel?”

“Mmm, it feels good. I love it when you spank my ass.”

He chuckled, the same cocky laugh that I remembered from the very first day I met him six years ago. He’d completely changed and he hadn’t changed at all, somehow.

“I didn’t spank you, Squirt. I just dropped my cock on you.”

“Dear God,” I mouthed, and I felt a few more slaps of his dick, sending ripples across my flesh.

I tensed and throbbed and pulled on the ropes. I was a thunderstorm between my legs, and wanted to touch myself so bad, but my tied appendages prevented that.

“Will you please just fuck me?” I begged.

“Not until you you answer a few questions,” he teased. I could feel him circling the tip of his member on my ass, getting closer to my opening.

“Anything. I’ll answer anything.”

“Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You. Christ, Chandler, it always has. Since the day I met you I wanted it to be yours.”

“Really?” There seemed to be genuine surprise in his voice. Odd for dirty talk. “When was the first time you thought about me?”

I swallowed. Fuck, for all our honesty, I didn’t talk much about the very first time I thought about him. The truth was, I always felt a little dirty for how hard I’d come just thinking about him. Listening to him with another girl like a live action porno.

“Amy, why are you hesitating?”

I breathed deeply. “I thought about you...once when you were fucking that first girl. I don’t remember her name. You would bring her home when we studied abroad for the first week. One night, I couldn’t sleep, and I pleasured myself while listening to how hard and good you fucked her.”

He let out a powerful, throaty groan. “Mother of God that’s hot.”

I turned my head to the side to make sure I spoke the next words clearly. “I wanted it to be me, Chandler. I wanted to be your girl.”

“That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve heard in my life.”

“It’s true.”

He leaned down and brushed my hair behind my ear. He nibbled on my lobe and kissed me softly. Goosebumps went down my neck and reverberated through my entire body.

“How the fuck can you be so fucking sweet,” he paused, “and such a fucking dirty girl at the same time.”

I giggled. “Probably those DSG cocktails you made me have at the Shots bar that one night.”

“The what?”

“You know. The Dirty Sweet Girl Cocktails. They worked. You got your wish.”

He laughed slowly. “Fucking A. You’re incredible, aren’t you.”

“What?”

“This is why I fucking love you. We’re here, you’re tied up, totally naked. And we’re having a conversation I could keep having for fucking hours.” He rubbed his hand on my ass, and I could feel some of the oil remaining from when he’d been massaging my back. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“If you say so.”

I felt a hard smack come down on my ass. That was definitely not his cock that time.

“Say you’re fucking incredible, Amy.”

The smack was meant to be a punishment, but it felt good. “I’m incredible.”

“Goddamn fucking right. Now how wet is your pussy?”

“Mmm,” I whimpered. “Too wet not to have a cock in it.”

He dragged his hand slowly around my ass and finally graced my clit with a light touch. My breath shortened as he pushed his finger around my slit, spreading my juices. “You’re fucking right about that. Shit, you’re a goddamn hurricane down there, Squirt.”

“Please. Fuck me, Chandler. Fuck me hard and fuck me deep with that big cock of yours. I’m fucking yours and you know it. I’ve been yours forever. And I always will be.”

“Shit, well when you put it like that…”

Chandler’s voice trailed off. His arms fell to the sides of my torso again and I felt his fleshy tip at my opening as he got ready to enter me from behind. He had to rub it around a few times, getting my slit ready for his size. I bit my lip as he pushed inside, filling me up inch by inch.

“You are a dirty girl, but this pussy, fuck it’s sweet,” he said.

“Shut up and fuck me,” I whimpered, surprising even myself at my own forcefulness. I wanted this so bad. Needed this. “Less talking, more fucking.” I emphasized, calling on our old motto.

“Oh yeah? Is this what you want?”

Chandler stroked his cock with my clit. In and out, slow and and deliberate. Fuck, it felt good. The truth was I needed him to warm me up like this. With Chandler having fingered me like usual, he couldn’t go straight in before I got used to him.

Still, I wanted him to fuck me like I knew he was aching to, with a fire in his eyes and with bucking hips that would make me beg for mercy. We’d burned slowly for six years to get to this point. I wanted the fire to rage.

“Please, Chandler. You know what I want,” I begged, and my voice went low and hoarse. “Ruin me.”

Chandler grunted like a fucking animal and gave me three hard pumped before pulling out. I gasped at the emptiness left in me when his cock exited. I felt him reach down toward my feet and pull the ropes off both of the bed post, letting me my legs free. I shook them out freely, feeling liberated by having movement in them back.

He pulled my legs in so they were flush together, my knees finally touching the mattress again. Then he gave my ass another smack. I whimpered.

“Since you’re being such a good girl, just as I asked, I’m going to give it to you, baby. I’m going to give you the whole thing. Everything you want.”

With my asscheeks pressed together, my pussy was extra tight as Chandler slowly reentered me with his sizable tip, spreading me apart from behind. His shaft was still slick with my juices, and I was so sopping wet, he was able to enter fully with ease. I moaned as I felt his balls slam into me.

“Fuck, Amy, you’re too tight, I’ve got to break you in.”

“Do it,” I moaned. “Break me, baby.” I loved the feeling of his hips smooshing into my ass as he slid in and out of me. He started slow again but gradually increased his rhythm.

After a few minutes, he was fucking my pussy so hard and so deep I was screaming with every thrust of his. His hands worked their way around my body, feeling up parts of my ass, my back, pulling my hair, until he finally wrapped them around my front and grabbed my tits, using them for leverage to fuck me harder.

I bucked under his weight, loving the feeling of his rock hard abs against my back. A film of sweat formed between our bodies. We were slippery, but somehow together the magnetism of our skin pulled us together again and again.

And then there was the fact that Chandler had me in a stronghold, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

“Oh fuck, Chandler!” I cried out when he bottomed out. I pulsed around him and felt his cock twitch. Reacting to him, I tightened, and began to come. “I’m...I’m…”

I screamed, letting totally loose. But he wasn’t done. In the midst of his deep thrusts, he reached a hand around in between my legs and pressed his middle finger on my slick clit, fingering me as he fucked my cunt.

I begged him to fuck me just minutes ago, and now my whimpers made me sound like I was begging for mercy as the first orgasm overtook me.

Sure, we played sex games and joked around, but there was no sarcasm when it came to how much my pussy belonged to Chandler. He could finger me better than I could finger myself, and right now--he was making sure I knew that fact.

He ripped the ropes off of the upper bedposts, freeing my arms. Now the only freedom I didn’t have was my sight, which I didn’t even need anymore. He pounded me so hard into the mattress, our bodies bounced together on the creaking thing.

He drove into me again and bit my neck hard. When he was done nibbling on me, he whispered: “Just let go, Squirt.”

I did. I let fucking go. I let go of everything. I let go of the fifteen years of my life lost to depression, of my resistance to a man who I’d made wait longer than any suitor to have me.

And goddamn did I come. It was the finger, his hardness, his size, his talk. And above all, it was the fact that it was him fucking me and he loved me.

I lost control and I thought I might pee the bed. Holy fucking Christ what was happening?

“Good girl, little Amy,” he whispered. “Buena chica, Amelita.”

Chandler speaking Spanish in a deep voice put me over the edge again. I came as he rocked into me with his hard body and dick. I came so much all over his hand that I lost sense of who and where I was. I didn’t even know what decade I was living in. And I didn’t much fucking care anymore.

“You’re a bad fucking man,” I screamed out, unsure why those were the words that came out of my mouth. My legs trembled and my entire body shook as I waited for him to come with me.

“Fuck, here it comes,” he grunted.

I reached my hands around and grabbed him on the ass, guiding him deep into me. My shoulders and face drove into the mattress as he slammed his hips into me over and over. God I wanted his cum.

“Come deep inside me, baby,” I moaned to him.

He obliged, and I felt him shoot the warm liquid into me. His full body pressed into mine as he shot round after round into me. No way he could have released any further, and deeper into me.

When he was done we collapsed in a heap together, a tangle of breathing and living limbs and torsos and heads.

“Baby, fuck. I swear you get hotter, wetter every time,” he said. He pulled out of me and I gasped at the empty feeling I had inside me.

I pulled the blindfold off and looked into Chandler’s deep blue-green eyes, the ones I’d fallen so madly in love with six years ago. It’d just taken the courage to admit it.

I rolled onto my back, and he rubbed his hand up and down my thigh, stroking me lightly.

“I don’t know what happened back there,” I admitted. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s always good, but something just snapped.”

He grinned. “I love it when you snap.” He put his other hand down on the mattress to prop himself up, but stopped when his palm touched something that made him ruffle his brow.

“Damn, we were sweating a lot, weren’t we.” He ran his hand along the damp sheet. I stayed silent, and began to blush, feeling with my own palm how wet it had gotten. The biggest spot was close to my ass.

I swallowed. “I don’t think that is sweat,” I giggled. My grin turning positively sly.

“Well if it’s not sweat, then it would have to be…” He smirked, coming to the same realization that I had come to. Literally come to.

“Like I said. I think you finally found my spot. Like my secret compartment. Are you going to remember that?”

“I don’t know if you know this about me,” he said in a joking Anchorman Will Ferrell voice, “But I’m kind of a big deal. And I remember every fucking last thing about you, Squirt. Like the look on your face when I impregnated you.”

I had snorted, dying laughing, until I comprehended the last thing he said. “Impregnated me? How can you be sure?”

He shrugged. “Just kidding. But I will remember the look on your face when I ask you to marry me.”

“When you...what?”

My heart began to pound like crazy as he reached behind his back onto the nightstand, pulled out a ring. Naked, he got down on one knee. on the bed. I shot up from my lazy lying-down position, suddenly crazy alert.

“Squirt, I love making you squirt. And I love you. Marry me.”

I grinned at his joke. The way he said it wasn’t a question. Still, he knew the answer.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Of course.” Tears streamed down both of my cheeks, and he slipped the ring over my naked finger and kissed my hand.