BREAK - A Bad Boy Romance (89 page)

I was in my underwear before long, staring at him with my arms stretched out to my sides.

“I want you to bend over for me,” he said, pulling my thong to the side.

He reached forward and pushed his hand against my labia. He and I had been through too much for me to be purely passive in all of this, so I got down and lowered his pants. He was already hard by the time my lips hit his cock.

“Always impressed with how big you are,” I managed to say. I had to strain my head backward so that I could look at the tip of his cock while my knee was beneath his legs. He tapped the head of his cock on my tongue, and I held the base of his shaft with my hand. He tasted good, and I enjoyed myself while letting my hand fall down the smooth muscles of his thighs.

There was less struggle in this fuck compared to the others. He and I no longer had anything to prove to one another, or to anyone else. I was free to enjoy him, just for the sake of enjoying him. My lips parted easily for him, and my hands turned gently on the surface of his cock. I smiled, and let my tongue do the subtle work that made him squirm in his body.

“Mmm.. I missed that,” he groaned.

He stood there for me, and let me take him at my own pace, which I felt was incredibly peaceful of him, considering the last time he saw me give head, I was brutally throat fucked by my previous boss.

“I want you,” he said, lifting me up and bending me over.

I could feel his hands pinching my ass gently, while his cock parted the lips of my pussy. He eased himself into my vagina, and then began to fuck me slowly. Feeling the fullness of him inside of me was a beautiful thing. We enjoyed a soft pace for a while, and then he picked up pace a bit more.

I loved how massive his hands felt on my body while he held me. Whether he was pulling my hair, holding my shoulders, or putting his hands on my hips, he felt so strong compared to me. The feeling was liberating.

“I think what I love about this,” I moaned in between thrusts, “Is how much power you give me.”

In response, he removed his hands completely, and let me push myself backward onto his cock. I enjoyed myself for a time, letting his cock be something independent for me to work my body against. This little game of ours held out for another couple of minutes before he lost himself and pinned me down not the couch.

“Oh God, yes!” I cried out.

It was obvious to me that I didn’t just love that he gave me power, but that he took power away from me as well. His cock was pumping inside of me, threatening to pull me out from the inside over and over. The couch creaked, and I could hear the wet sounds of his cock fucking he hell out of my cunt. I moaned and pleaded for him to keep going, and he slowed down in response, teasing me all the while.

When I would get out of line, squirming because of the pleasure, he would thrust deep and hard into me, and put me back in my right place. I could feel his body weight bearing down over me. His hands held me down on the couch by pinning my back shoulders. I gave up completely, and used my hands to either grab a hold of the couch, or spread my ass cheeks so he could have easier access to my body.

“I love you,” he grunted, diving down deep into my cunt.

“Fuckin’ cum on me then,” I replied, feeling a bit visceral.

He pulled out and shot his load all over the small of my back, then he leaned forward and licked his cum up off from the surface of my skin. His tongue moved slowly on my skin, and I swear I came just then — only knowing what he was doing to me. He kept the jizz in his mouth, and then came up to kiss me. The two of us spent a fair amount of time just exchanging the load between our mouths, swallowing each other’s saliva and cum until there was nothing to exchange besides our own kisses.

All in all, it was likely our most sensitive fuck until that moment.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked when we were done.  “I’ve got a bit of time before I head home, and I’d really like to go somewhere nice with you.”

“I was just about to leave,” I told him as we laid together on the floor of my living room. “This place will be empty tomorrow, and I might as well go with you.”

There was a pause in the conversation, and then my heart spoke what needed to be said.

“Mind if I bring a friend?” I said with a grin.

His response was laughter and a nod. We didn’t need much more than a will in order to figure out how to make that happen. Perhaps a visit to Rome was in order. No explanations or articulated plans were necessary.

We had been through this once before.

The shores of Crete are not so different from Lido, but they are far enough away that it feels like you are in another world; that was the point, more than anything else.

I sat on the sand, staring out at all of the beautiful men and women. It seemed like the people on this particular beach had nothing better to do than show me their tan asses through variously undersized bathing outfits. Naturally, I didn’t have any objections. This was infinitely better than whatever was happening back in Lido, that much was for sure.

We had to torch the lab, and by we, I mean, I burnt that fucking building to the ground, and everything in it, only after wiping every server that I had access to -- must have been some kind of problem with the pilot on the stove. Couldn’t be helped, I'm sure.

*Bites lip*

Fortunately, the accident took place when the neighbors were out, so looks like everyone wins. I mentioned to Piper that I’d make her cum on the beach. I had no idea how literal that whole prophecy would become, but I had learned at this point not to question fate. Could be nothing more than a problem of confirmation bias, but it truly seemed like everything happened for a reason.

Right about then, Piper tackled me.

“Again?” I asked, pretending to be worn out.

She only smiled in response, and kissed me.

“This is a private beach,” Tyler said, “and there are combinations that I feel we need to put to the test.”

His cock was out once more, and hanging in front of my face.

“Erm… Science?” I replied, not knowing what else to say.

Piper laughed, and the three of us fell in together in a heap on the sand.

“To Science!”

Needless to say, the three of us wasted little time in getting busy with one another again. Our entire trip had really been one giant fuck fest, from beginning to end. I had no idea how things would end up between the three of us, but I did know one thing for certain — it had been enjoyable and by all accounts, that level of enjoyment did not seem like it was going away any time soon.

We had a rough time, Piper, perhaps more than all three of us, but in the end, at least we had each other. When exhaustion sets in, and the afterglow of the orgasmic overload has subsided, I found that nothing is quite as satisfying as the warmth of the sun, and the company of good friends. The simple pleasures of life are not to be overlooked in face of some of the more decadent pursuits.

Really, it’s the love you find amid the pleasures that make this life worth anything at all.

- THE END -

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NEWSLETTER
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A Bad Boy Romance

By Gabi Moore

Chapter 1

Ok, here it is, my confession: I’m a cheater.

I know, I know, everybody is these days, right? What could be more ordinary than two people declaring undying love for one another and then losing interest 2.6 years later and breaking up once the whole sorry mess falls to pieces? It’s normal, isn’t it? It’s always the same: boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, boy meets
another
girl, previous girl cries and throws things at boy, boy says sorry…

But you’ll have to believe me when I tell you that mine is no ordinary tale of deception. No, there’s nothing normal about my cheating story. You see, I cheated on my boyfriend…
with
my boyfriend. And if I’m honest, it was one of the best things I’ve ever done.

Allow me to explain.

Why did any of this happen the way it did? Well, it’s hard to say. Maybe it’s the fault of too many Disney princess movies during my formative years. Maybe I have what my asshole ex sneeringly called “high standards” that no man could possibly live up to. Maybe faulty hormones. I don’t know. But the state of things was this: I loved David, and David loved me. But we had made a
promise
to one another. And that means something.

I know, if you’re like most people, you’ll think a no-sex-before-marriage agreement is old fashioned and a little sad. But hear me out. I wasn’t some idealistic child who submitted her boyfriend to years of blue balls. I wasn’t a tease or a prude. And David …well, lets just say he was on board, right from the beginning. Really.

Sure, I had what are considered outdated sentiments. Instead of “dating” and gossiping about how far this one had gone with that one, I spent my puberty reading old Victorian romance novels, and placing heirloom rose cultivars into crystal vases I inherited from my grandmother. I grew my hair too long and was good with children. I was hopelessly out of fashion, and in more ways than even I knew at the time.

My peer group’s obsession with sex baffled me at best, and I shrank from what seemed crude and ugly at the time. I wasn’t sappy though – cheap romance alone wasn’t good enough for me. My girlish heart craved something more than true love, more than perfect union. At the time I could see how people thought I was fusty and naïve, but I was, as I saw it, trying to cultivate something nobler. Something
sublime
. Sex was merely one star in a whole immense universe of love and significance I had created for myself.

So, to get on with the story, David and I went to the same High School. He had written me a poem one day, smiled at me shyly and then scuttled off. With my overactive imagination, I filled in all the rest. Soon he was assigned the role of my fated love, my One, my soul mate and the sun around which all of my high-flown fantasies orbited.

Surprisingly, he went with it. While other boys had balked at the fact that I reserved handholding till the third date, or that I expected the door to be held open for me, he not only seemed unbothered, but actively charmed. When I told him that singing to flowers made them grow faster or that you can only make good banana bread if you’re in a happy mood, he didn’t tease me, but only smiled and pecked my cheek.

With a living, breathing focal point on which to pin my fairy tale, life became so much lovelier, like cupid himself had come down and smiled on us. There were stolen embraces, love letters scented with perfume, a daisy woven into a lock of hair, tentative fingers laced together… and promises. Lots of promises.

David understood me. And his understanding was enough intimacy to last my sensitive soul a long, long time. He understood that I resisted sex not because I thought so little of it, but because I thought more highly of it than anything else in the world. In my fevered teenage brain, I believed nothing could be so momentous as melding your body to that of someone you loved, and I intended to relish that moment, to hang it far off on the horizon of “one day” where it would grow so ripe that by the time I was ready for it, the angels themselves would weep when I finally consummated my love.

David and I nuzzled and whispered and giggled our way through most of High School. Sex wasn’t urgent, and there was always homework to do, besides. We were safe and warm and happy with each other, and sex was just some post dated check that we could always cash in later, when we felt like it.

It was sweet. Sickly sweet.

You can see where this is going, right?

Chapter 2

“Phosphorylation is such a nice word.”

He looked up from his books at me. “It’s a nice word, but it doesn’t sound like what it is, you know? It’s sounds like how you describe mice running around in some dry leaves. Like, ‘the mice phosphorylated on the forest floor’… don’t you think?”

He shrugged and returned his gaze to his book. Studying together was no big deal for us. David would come to my house or I would go to his, and we’d prep for exams or do our assignments in silence together. Next year, when college started, these moments might be more difficult to coordinate, so part of me relished hanging out like this now, while we still could. Something was wrong, though.

“Everything ok?” I asked.

“Violet, you asked me that five minutes ago, and my answer is the same as it was five minutes ago. There’s nothing wrong, ok?”

He didn’t even make eye contact. This was bad. I slammed my biology textbook shut, perhaps a little too dramatically. He looked up at me again.

The trouble with finding your soul mate, and I say this without any irony, is that you don’t really get too much practice having mature and respectful fights. David and I just didn’t fight. We didn’t really know
how
. Which made him sulking right now extra inconvenient.

“Is this about before? About what I said?” I asked him, frustrated that no amount of staring at the top of his dusty blond head could make him look at me. He sighed deeply and closed his books too, perhaps with not enough drama

“If you want to talk about it again, fine,” he said, “but there’s no point. You don’t want to. Cool. I got it. I won’t beg.”

“I don’t want you to beg.”

“Fine. And I’m not going to. What I want is for
you
to want to …and you don’t.”

“That’s not true. I’m perfectly happy to do whatever it takes to-”

“Ok, lets do it then.”

“But—”

“See? Call it what you like, that sounds like a no to me.”

Lately, we hadn’t been agreeing much on what did and didn’t count as sex. We had had this disagreement at least four times in the last six months alone. He wanted oral sex, and me …well let’s just say I felt that that would a slope that was somewhat, uh, slippery.

“David, I’ve explained this to you, it’s not saying no to you at all, believe me, I want to as much as you do…”

“Then let’s do it.”

“But …can’t we just kiss?”

“
Just
?” He shot an accusatory eyebrow at me.

He was right. It felt rotten offering him a kiss as some sort of consolation prize.

I had always scoffed inwardly at girls who slept with boys just to win a little more of their attention, or moved faster than they wanted to just to keep an impatient guy from leaving. While the girls at our school were living out epic sagas of love and rejection in the course of a single evening of hooking up, while they courted and consummated and broke up literally overnight, I admit I always felt a little smug and that I was somehow immune. That I was on a different, more sophisticated timeline. But I looked at him again, and there was no denying it: he was getting impatient with me. Even my timeline had its limits, apparently.

In the story of whimsy and romance I had already written for both of us, I had never foreseen this outcome, stupid as that may sound to some of you. Our promise was always something that made me feel safe and sure. Now, my boyfriend was hungry and irritable, and our promise hung there on the tree like a fruit that might rot and be inedible if left even for a day longer.

A very ugly thought jumped into my mind – what if David and I became
bored
of each other? What if the promise of things to come wasn’t enough to fix things right here in the moment? I opened my book and tried to study again. ‘Phosphorylation’ suddenly seemed like a different word, now. An ugly, threatening word. Like the rustling of veils about to be pulled off.