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Part 1 of Finding my Position
[Everyone is 18 and this is fictional]
I signed the dotted line. My full legal name, of course.
I stared up at Angie. She scowled down at me, folding her arms against her chest. Did she know how her boobs pushed back against her arms like that? They looked bigger, firmer - and they were already double D's. God damn those tits. I looked back at her face. What a bitch.
She took the forms, straightened them out and put them in the yellow envelope - A4. Angie licked the glue. I remembered the feeling on my skin, on my tongue, on the tip of my dick. My dick remembered too. I clenched my fists tight.
âWaitâ I said - she was going to walk out the door just then, just now.
Angie raised an eyebrow, âWhat Johnny? It's done.â
âDon't you want a coffee or a beer?â I gestured.
âThis is my house, they may as well be my coffee and my beer. You have nothing to offer.â Her lip curled.
I felt my chest puff, I stood, hands on the kitchen island across from her, âFuck you, you don't pay for shit, can't you stand to be around one minute?â
She put the folder on the side and came round to point an acrylic nail at my chest, âI can't stand to be around you another SECOND you fucking idiot. Do you know what you just signed?â
I smirked, âMy get out of jail free card.â
âYou FUCKING asshole; careless, SELFISH BASTARD. IF ANYONE'S FREE IT'S ME, I DON'T HAVE TO LOOK AT YOUR UGLY PATHETIC FACE ONE MORE SECOND! I'M FREE FROM YOUR STUPID DICKHEAD BULLSHIT, FREE TO DO WHATEVER I WANT, WHOEVER I WANT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!â
My dick and the adrenaline lead the way. I grabbed her by the side of the head, pushing her backwards to bump into the island, bending over till my tongue reached her throat. She pushed my chest to stop me, but seemed to be squeezing my pecs over my shirt instead.
One of my hands left to trail down her body - her fragile neck, the sides of her full boobs, her upper back. I laced my fingers under the fabric of her skirt and gripped her pantie- clad ass. She was already kissing back, but to this she moaned against herself and her arms wrapped around my back.
A finger traced her asshole and then further on her pussy opening. I grinned in her mouth - she was already slick through the underwear. I rubbed circles, teasing. She moaned again and again.
I thought about our past sex, having her mouth, pussy and ass. I thought about doggy and cowgirl and even missionary crossed my mind with bliss. That time in her parents bed, that time while I was driving, that time in a pool. My dick throbbed with nostalgia of all these memories.
Simply rubbing her over her panties while I reminisced wasn't what Angie wanted. She grabbed my ears and stopped kissing me, her face pissed. She lowered my head to her cleavage, holding my head tight. I pulled back and moved my slimy fingers so I could take off her top, and my practised hands undid the bra in one motion.
I returned to smothering myself between her tits. One hand held her back steady, the other found the front zip of her skirt. Angie undid my belt buckle and shoved my jeans and boxers down together. I bit and kissed and licked her soft flesh, giving love to the last part of her that deserved it. She held my scalp tight and ground her skirt onto my naked dick, it was fully hard and I was slick from my own sweat and precum, I like to imagine they stain the material forever. She'll never wash out the juice of my cock. Through the fabric I can still place her mound and that crevice shape, I can grind along her clit and pussy like a god fearing teen boy - protected by the fabric.
I graze a nipple with my teeth, and with force attempt to swallow her whole left boob. The flesh squishes into my mouth - I get a good amount. I wish I could choke on it, feel the distinct booby skin blocking my airway. I suck and suck and she moans my name, pleading something. In my mind I've already won before either of us have finished, here she is begging for it, she wants me so badly, her voice so whiny. It occurs to me that right now, SHE is the pathetic one.
Both of my hands go down over her skirt and under the fabric, I cup her asscheeks fully, tight with my fingers. I canât tell if Iâm spreading them, or just squeezing for all sheâs worth. My hands brush her panties. I can tell, theyâre those basic white pants from Target, cheap bitch. I tear them open and she swears at me - it sounds like another desperate moan though. I tear the side too, and throw the crap cotton on the ground - I look over her tits at the drenched fabric. God, remind me to put that in my pocket before she kicks me out. I spread her cheeks again, and suck on the other boob. My dick feels rubbed raw from the slightly rough skirt fabric. I groan, itâs overstimulating but if I stop pistoning my hips Iâll die. I look her in the eye, she sneers at me.
It crosses my mind that if I donât taste her pussy now - one last time, Iâll never do it again. But my dick craves her entrance so badly, thereâs a desperation in my balls, if I donât fuck her right now my head will explode. But this is the last time. Fuck. Fuck this bitch. My internal monologue falls away, all I can think about, the only thought. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Hands on her ass and thighs, I push her further onto the island, her arm steadies but knocks a glass onto the floor - dumb bitch, dumb horny bitch - her hole is lined up, her skirt rolled up by one hand. I donât have to guess, my dick knows her pussyhole more than I know how to breathe, I push forward and sheath in one long, wet motion.
I stay there for a second, I almost lost it, almost came in one stroke. God sheâd fucking kill me, itâd be funny but tragic.
Fuck.
The overwhelm passes. One hand on her belly, one hand in her crack, my hips could do this motion dead, I roll in and out of her wet cunt. My ballsack slaps my hand, I move it, it slaps her asshole. God grant me another dick, and a third, let me fuck her everywhere all at once.
Fuuckk.
Iâm so focused on my own pleasure, I didnât notice her panting my name. Dumb bitch.
I look down at her face. Fuck. This part of me, my dick sawing her pussyhole open, keeping it shaped to me, fuck I love her. I love her face, her hair, her lips that shake and beg for me, her eyes that water, her neck, her beautiful beautiful tits bouncy with each thrust, dancing for me. I love the width of her hips, and the squishy fat thatâs accumulated over the decade, that I can grip like a pillow while I plough her. I love her waist - the very top of her bikini line thatâs less tanned than the rest, the last pure strip of her skintone. I love her thighs that are wrapped around my own hips, keeping me tight, trapped in her, I couldnât pull out if I wanted to, my dick might as well be stuck here forever. I love her cute little feet, toes tensed. She must be close, just from me pounding her. Fucking whore.
While I thrust, her liquid, the physical form of her desire and desperation for my dick leaks out, down her ass. I growl, grin, and my thick thumb rubs the slick in. I push it into my thumbâs knuckle.
I remember our fifth anniversary. We were so in love, she loved and wanted me so much, sheâd do anything. Since college sheâd known how badly I wanted her ass, or any ass, and seen how much anal I watched. Itâd been a hard no for years, I didnât even ask anymore. But there, at that cheap swiss chateau on a single bed, I removed her lace panties with my teeth to be greeted by the base of her buttplug. She smiled at me with so much love, and bit her lip. God. I fucked her for two minutes, came, and stayed inside her tight asshole. I kissed her, and cuddled. But my boner wasnât fading, and I grunted with the feeling coming back. The lube had dried, but we didnât need it, my cum lubed her better than anything, and I fucked her in so many positions that by the end, when I drizzled a pathetic stream, one or two bursts, my dick went soft and raw. I passed out with not a sperm left in my balls.
That was the first and last time she ever let me in the backdoor, and even now she scowled at me for my only thumb. Warning me that her ass will never let my dick in again.
I scowled back, and picked up the pace. My balls swung steady, not betraying my fury to lust.
I fucked her like she deserved, like a whore. âTell me youâre a whore.â I growled.
âFuck youâ, she spat, breathy, sweaty.
âTell me youâre a cumdump slut depressed for my dick, tell me you want it, tell me youâre my bitch.â I was close again. My thighs were beating her ass, I moved my left hand to grasp her tit hard, pulling the nipple like a cow. My thumb stayed tight.
âFuck you, you bastard. Hey, youâre gonna come already? Limp bastard.â
Godddd fuck.
âHEY! Look at me, look at my face!â, my eyes strayed from my pumping dick killing her pussy, past her - fuckkkk - past her boobs, to her spiteful, red face.
âDo not cum yet you bastard! Do not! Donât you fucking dare cum yet, canât you do one thing right? Donât you fucking dare cum Johnny!â
My balls heard different. My balls heard, âCum for me Johnny.â âPlease, Johnny fuck me, cum for me!â âJohhhnny please please please.â âCum on my tits Johnny please.â âJohnny I love you, cum for me Johnny.â
Both hands moved to hold her hips tight, she kept yelling but I couldnât hear,
I thrust hard, and held her hips tight to mine,
âFUCKKKKK ANGIE ANGIE Angie. Angie Fuckk. God fuck.â I came in her hard, my vision blacked out, my dick spurt, I felt the cum of years exit my balls, cum from college, from our first apartment, the engagement, the wedding, cum from the two week honeymoon, cum from years and years of birthdays and christmas and new years and valentines and -
My face was in her cleavage again. There was a faint spasm around my dick, I looked up. Angie was riding the end of her own climax. I had cum so hard I hadnât noticed her orgasm on my dick, from my cum. Itâs been years since we came together.
I sucked a bit of titty in my mouth. She looked down on me, panting. My soft dick flopped out, cum splashed and dripped on the floor - both of ours.
I stood up. I looked at her dripping pussy, and at the mess on the floor of whatâs her house now. I couldnât help but grin as I pulled up my shorts and jeans, buckling the belt.
âJohhny-â
I got my coat. It was a nice denim jacket with a soft lining, no sleeves. My pal Ricky had put some neat patches on. Iâd gotten it recently, as a sign I was coming back to myself. My dick was still a little wet in my boxers, but itâs fine, Iâd shower at home.
At home.
I walked out the door, Angie was still on the counter. I glanced at the living room, the kitchen, and the door to the dining room. The stairwell. Her house now, or at least her house when the fucking deadbeat lawyers did their jobs.
I left my home, didnât lock the door, I didnât have the key anymore, not the right one.
She was on birth control, one of those long-term ones, but goddamn imagine that my cum was so potent, so angry, so ready that she got pregnant with my kid from that. Imagine after sheâs just kicked me out, my little bastard grows inside her. God give my cum the strength to tell her to fuck herself. God I pray she never finds a dick that fits like mine, god give her pencil dicks and erectile dysfunction.
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