Abigail

Quinn dozes off next to me, and I only notice when his faint snoring turns to woodchipper levels of bothersome. To my amazement, I’ve covered seven pages of the notepad with notes and snippets of a story that came to me.

Front and back.

One caveat to not having a computer nearby is that it’ll take me forever to untangle the mess of what I wrote later on. That doesn’t make my smile shrink, though. I can’t remember the last time I had such a productive brainstorming session. And I certainly can’t recall the last time my idea had me this excited to sit down and write it.

The reason for the spark in creativity is sitting there, a noise complaint waiting to happen. The bit about having no neighbors for miles in either direction might sound like it’s because Quinn loves his privacy but the real reason has to be that having someone who snores like that near anyone else’s house is a surefire way to bring property values down altogether.

A vague patch of hair below his belly button catches my eye. His happy trail. It brings back a flood of memories. Somewhere in an alternate universe, a high school freshman Abby is watching the football team practice. The ball gets tossed to Quinn, who shoots up to grab it before the guy wearing a different color jersey has the chance. He dodges all the blocks and tackles people throw up, and legs it to a resounding touchdown.

After the practice is over, Quinn pulls his gear off. It’s just the jersey now, with no bulky pads or other protective equipment getting in the way. Before he disappears into the boys’ locker room, he takes his shirt off and fans himself under the sizzling sun.

I had caught all of that from underneath a shaded canopy on campus. It was the place I went when I needed a break from the teasing and ridicule I was subjected to for being a little awkward and a lot different in high school. I was a girl the same as any other and Quinn Cooper made my heart skip a beat.

Seeing him bare chested, though? That was the peak moment of my freshman year.

And now there he is, asleep in front of me. After we’ve spent the last twenty-four hours together and he slept over at my place.

If there’s a good thing that came from my return, it’s this. Maybe it doesn’t have to be me on my own anymore. I’m not saying to chime the wedding bells or anything like that, but maybe I’ll have some company on what’s been a harrowing and lonely road for me so far.

A devious idea hatches in my mind. I set the notepad and pen down. Inching cautiously to Quinn, I get on my knees and pull his boxers down a little. His flesh swells at that even though he’s still sound asleep. After the way he ravished me this morning, it’s only fitting that I return the favor.

I take just the head of his cock in my mouth. The sudden movement must be jarring because he blinks his eyes a few times, disoriented, then sees where I am and groans. “God.”

“I was just thinking about what you did this morning,” I tell him, swirling my tongue underneath it. See, I may be a virgin but my roommates after high school weren’t. And they went in graphic detail about every last thing they ever did.

“Abby, fuck!” he shouts when I flick my tongue at the little bit of skin between the shaft and the head.

I flatten my tongue in my mouth and relax, prepared to take him in. There’s nothing wrong with working my way up to it but I’m not in a teasing mood. The taste of him in my mouth and the way his cock twitches, pulsating with so little stimulation from me, has me curious about what happens next.

“I want to know something,” I say, licking up and down to make sure he’s good and slick for me. “One, will I be able to take you all the way in?” I eye his massive cock, genuinely unsure, but God, I’m so ready to try. “And two, how fast can I make you come for me?”

He sits up, allowing me a better angle with my mouth.

“I think-”

It’s my turn to interrupt him mid-sentence with unexpected and unbridled pleasure. He moans as I envelope my mouth around his cock, deeper and deeper until I feel him breaching my throat. It’s not the most comfortable position to be in but I love it.

Love it.

“Fuck,” he says, his eyes squarely on me the whole time. “Babe, this is fucking hot.”

I’m lost in the moment, reduced to a creature of desire and primal need. My pussy aches for him for what feels like the thousandth time since I invited him in not even twenty-four hours ago. But now the show is for him. I bob my head up and down, the loud, slurping noise of my tongue on his cock turning me on all the more.

“Abby, I need you,” he says, standing up. I struggle to catch up with him, but he takes care of it by holding my head still and thrusting, same as he did before. Except this time, I know that each quiver in his body is the direct result of his cock in my mouth, thick and hard, and the way he savagely pumps.

It surprises me that there’s no shyness. No unpleasantness. Only single-minded release at the end of the tunnel.

“Get up,” he says, and tries to pull his cock out.

I shake my head. A little part of me is thrilled to defy him. Quinn Cooper might be polite and respectful, but if the past several hours have taught me anything, it’s that he’s an animal in bed.

I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to poke this particular bear.

“Get up,” he repeats, visibly torn between enjoying what I’m still doing to him and wanting my obedience.

I shake my head again, but this time his reaction isn’t so mild. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he jerks his cock away. A heady anticipation follows because I don’t know what’s to follow. He wants to fuck me, of that I’m certain.

But how?

“Get up,” he says a third time.

This time, I oblige. No sooner than I’m up do his hands go to the small of my back, pressing against my spine until I bend over, my arms propped up against the back of the couch he was just sleeping on.

“I’m not going to fuck you like you’re the good girl you think you are,” he tells me, sliding one hand on my hip. He hooks his finger against the pair of cheeky panties I have on and nearly tears them off me. “Spread your legs.”

You’d think this would send me in a tailspin, but it doesn’t. Just this morning, I was mortified of him getting so close to my pussy. Now, he’s getting the eyeful from behind, seeing it, pink and raw, in a way that sends a shiver down my spine.

I long for his control.

A hard slap on my ass jolts me. It stings long after his hand is gone, and to my surprise, I want more. The line between pain and pleasure blurs so that when he smacks my ass again, I’m ready for it. I moan despite myself.

“You like that?” he asks, slapping me harder.

Next, his two hands spread my ass cheeks, exposing every last bit of me. I’m caught in the moment, confused by the conflicting emotions I feel. If someone had told me I would be here right now, doing this with a guy I only had a proper conversation with for the first time yesterday, I would’ve cowered behind my usual insecurity.

But it’s not that. I feel safe with Quinn. Him taking over like this, dominating my body and taking it the way he wants it, is his way of cherishing me. It’s that tacit understanding that I’m sure we both agree on that’s fueling all of this.

There’s nothing more freeing than having him treat himself to me.

He pulls my hair again, forcing me to look at him. “I’m going to fuck you raw.”

“Please,” I say, bucking my hips against him. I can’t find his cock but I yearn for it, my whole body vibrating with need.

This time, there’s no teasing. No making me beg for it. His hands grasp my hips and in a split second, he’s inside me. Instead of the deep thrusts I’d grown accustomed to, he barely moves. He’s pumping only an inch or so, barely taking himself out only to come back. No, he’s filling me up with no reprieve.

I fucking love it. I claw at the cushions, a cry of ecstasy stuck in my throat. He takes my silence as a kind of affront, because he leans on me so I’m forced to bend lower. His body covers every inch of my back. It’s like I have no personal room as he’s pounding away at me, grunting with the effort it takes to subdue me.

Finally, I cry out. My pussy clenches around his cock, and I decide to take some of my agency and back into him. I have no idea how he’s to go any deeper, but that’s what I want him to do.

Never in my life have I needed something or someone more than I need for him to fucking ruin me.

Quinn responds in kind, holding to my body as he explodes in a raging orgasm that threatens to topple us over. My body quakes and trembles, only a hint of energy left in me before I fall over the cliff and into the delirious abyss that awaits me. My body succumbs to a series of orgasms that take away my ability to breathe, think or even be.

I black out from the pleasure.