Phoenix

I want the whole fucking world to see us. I hope the whole neighbourhood is staring from behind their twitchy curtains as I stretch Abigail’s pretty asshole raw.

Her desperation has knitted itself to mine under the surface. I feel it there, both of us bobbing along with the current of a tsunami.

I wouldn’t know how to stop this if I tried, but what I do know – against every fucking sensibility I’ve ever had – is that I’ll never be able to leave her alone again. Not even for a couple of weeks.

Her eyes are watery even as she smiles. She’s spreading her legs for more even as she begs me to stop.

I toss the dildo to the floor and squirt a fresh load of lube onto my fingers. I work it right the way over my dick, and then squirt another glob straight onto her battered asshole. She flinches at the chill, but it’s the least of her worries.

“Look at me,” I tell her as I position myself against her ass and ease down on top of her.

She nods. Smiles. Threads her dainty little fingers in my hair.

She’s so naked under me, so pretty in the lamplight. I’m well aware that I’m still clothed, well aware of how badly I’m craving the softness of her poor bruised tits against my skin.

But I can’t.

Not until she knows my secrets.

If she ever knows my secrets.

It would be so easy to kiss her. So easy to throw the shirt off my back and dive all the way in.

I do neither.

Her eyes widen like pretty white saucers as I force the head of my cock into her puckered hole.

Steady.

So fucking steady.

My jaw is tight as I ease my way in. My weight is on my elbows and my face is right in hers.

The first barbell tugs as it pushes through, even slicked up with lube. She flinches as it sinks deeper.

“I’m scared,” she whispers. “This is really gonna hurt.”

She closes her eyes as I push forward. Her ass is like a vice as the second and third piercings push inside.

Her breath is ragged against my lips.

“Bad?” I ask.

She whimpers and nods.

I’m careful with the fourth, barely moving at all.

It feels like fucking heaven when the fifth slides in and her ass opens up to take me.

“I feel so full,” she whispers.

“Not full enough.” I ease in the final inch or so and she groans. My balls are tight against her bare ass, I’m in deep enough that the thought nearly sends me over the edge.

Her eyes are still right on mine as I rock my hips. Her breath is jagged against my lips as I sink into rhythm.

Steady, so fucking steady. The lube is slick but her ass is tight.

“Ow, fuck,” she hisses as I pick it up a gear.

“Don’t fight,” I tell her again and press my forehead to hers.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

“You don’t want to kiss a monster. Believe me,” I tell her.

I shunt hard in her ass to take the idea away.

“I don’t understand you,” she whispers. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Don’t try.”

“You have secrets, don’t you?” she continues, and I contemplate ramming my filthy cock down her throat just to shut her pretty mouth up. “They’re bad, aren’t they?”

“We all have secrets, Abigail. If you want to tell me yours while my dick stretches your ass open, then go ahead.”

She tips her head to the side, and that suits me just fine. I nip her ear until she shivers. Kiss her neck until she’s forgotten how to speak.

“Hurting?” I ask again, and she moans.

I slide out all the way and she whimpers at the ridges. She braces herself as I push back in.

She’s as open as she’ll ever be, as ready as I can make her.

“Gonna fuck you, hard,” I tell her, and the way she tenses is divine.

She cries out as I slam in, shivers as her ass squelches on my way out.

“You wanted a monster,” I breathe and shunt so hard the bed rattles. “You’ll feel me for fucking days.”

Three deep slams and she’s spluttering. Three more and I’m wound too tight to stop.

Her nails dig into my back. They graze my scars through my shirt and I turn wild, pounding her ass like I’m punishing her.

Maybe I am.

It sends her as feral as me.

Her hands find my bare ass and grip for dear fucking life. Her forehead presses tight to my shoulder.

And then she bites me, latching on to my shoulder through fabric.

I spit curses into her ear as she whimpers. Change angle until she lets go enough to scream my name.

And then I pin her. Hard. My fingers grip her chin and hold her steady, big scared eyes so close to mine.

“Beg me to stop.”

She shakes her head.

The girl is fucking insane, but so am I.

Insane enough that I tumble across another fucking line.

My mouth is already open as it fixes on hers. My tongue is fierce as it hunts hers down.

She moans as she kisses me back, grips my ass harder as she urges me on.

She tastes like pain and fear and oblivion. She tastes like a disaster waiting to happen.

She tastes like devil’s blood and quicksand. Like the broken fucking parts of me.

Like I’m burning all over again.

Like she’s life itself.

“Don’t stop,” she hisses into my open mouth. “Fuck me.”

She comes as I do, her pussy pressed tight to hard flesh. Grinding. Bucking and hissing and spluttering and fucking begging.

My cock is all the way in when I blow.

I unload deep. Really fucking deep.

My tongue is in her mouth as the world spins. My pulse is in my ears as her hands slip under my shirt and up my back.

I’ve moved before she can feel; pulled away before she can touch.

Her eyes widen as I recoil from her, limbs flailing to cover her exposed body, like she needs to. Like I want that.

“What?” she asks. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” I lie, but I’m an ocean away. She grapples with the bedcovers, trying to pull them over herself.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I insist, but she’s buying none of it.

“You didn’t have to kiss me if you didn’t want to,” she says, and I feel like a cunt.

“Oh, I wanted to,” I tell her, even though she doesn’t believe me.

I shove my dick back in my jeans and zip myself up. She looks horrified.

I feel horrified myself.

The words are a jumble in my throat. I don’t even know where to begin the terrible fucking tale of woe.

So I don’t.

“You were perfect,” I tell her. “This is all on me.”

“So, what happens now? You just disappear again?”

I sigh. “Maybe I’ll turn up with flowers and knock next time. Would that be better?”

She doesn’t smile like I’d hoped.

She’s tense as I lean forward enough to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“I have secrets,” I tell her. “But they’re not for now.”

“When?” she asks as I get up from the bed.

I grab my jacket from the floor. “Soon.”

“Soon?”

“Yes, Abigail. Soon.”

She pulls her knees to her chest really fucking slowly. Leans on her arm as she stares. “You don’t have a wife, do you? Please tell me you don’t.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think I’ve got a fucking wife? Please.”

“Wouldn’t be the first fucking time,” she hisses, and shifts her gaze to the ceiling.

“Is that what happened to you? He had a wife?”

She laughs a hollow laugh. “Lots of things happened to me, Leo. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the whole truth, it seems.”

“I haven’t got a wife,” I tell her. “I’m not with anyone. I’m not lying about anything.”

Her eyes meet mine. “Good.”

I check the time on my phone. Late. Really fucking late.

I gesture to the wide open curtains. “You probably want to close those before you get up.”

She flashes a smile, at least for a moment. “Anyone out there will have seen enough already, don’t you think?”

“Better than pay-per-view. Maybe we should give them a regular time slot.” I dig my keys from my pocket.

“Don’t leave it weeks next time. A couple of days should see me walking vaguely normally again.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” I smirk.

And then I go.