The Beautiful Mistae

I plod through the sludge on the street, cursing every neighbor who hasn't shoveled their part of the sidewalk.

I shoveled mine, goddammit.

I've been shoveling snow all goddamn morning. I had to get up at six to shovel Jen out so she could get an early start. On a goddamn Saturday! Then, of course, as soon as she left and I sat down to breakfast, Mrs. Duvet had to call. In my mind, I told her, "I don't give a fuck if that eighty-year-old skinsack of a husband of yours breaks a hip or bursts an artery; you tell him to shovel his own fucking driveway! But, of course, I said, "Sure thing, be right there!" like the fucking pushover I am.

And I wasn't done being a pushover, no. When, in thanks for shoveling her long-ass driveway, the old bat gave me the worst fucking cup of hot chocolate I've ever had in my life, I didn't dump it on her driveway and ask her, "How could anyone be so fucking stupid as to think giving this lukewarm, clumply, flavorless shit would be a kind gesture? No, I thanked her and told her it "was just what I needed!"

Fuck that. Fuck her. Fuck me. What I need is a hot shower and to go back to bed.

Dreams of my pillow fill my head as I turn the corner and my house comes into view.

There's a car parked in Jen's spot. It's not Jen's car.

As I get closer, my chest turns warm.

I know that silver Volvo.

It's Chloe's.

I knew she'd be back for winter break; Lena mentioned some plans they had.

But I didn't think-

I shouldn't be surprised. Her showing up unannounced at the house is how everything began. I've entertained the notion that she knew for a fact that I was home alone that day and that she had intended things to happen as they did. At first, the thought made me smile. Then it slowly infuriated me, like I'd been conned somehow.

As I near the house, I rush through the speech in my head once more. I've rehearsed many times before, but now it's only coming to me in fragments.

What happened between us was good, beautiful even... it doesn't make sense for us to do anything like it again... we risk hurting the people we love... we could seriously ruin our lives... I'm glad we shared that one experience, and we can look back on it... find yourself a good guy... a guy you age... teach him a thing or two.

She's standing on the porch, shivering by the front door. She rings the doorbell three times. My car is here, and I left all the lights on. She must think I'm inside. She doesn't hear me approach from behind.

I stop at the bottom of the steps.

"Chloe?"

She turns, and a mere glance at her face makes me weak--the black hair, the heart-shaped face, the massive silver-blue eyes, the full cupid's bow lips. She smiles--not her usual casual smirk, but a broad grin.

"Hi!"

Is she nervous too? Or is it just the cold?

She's got a coat on but hasn't bothered to close it. And she certainly isn't warmly dressed underneath it. She's wearing a dark blue halter top, its deep plunging collar exposing the inner curve of her light olive breasts. I see them in my mind, bare and undulating. I remember the weight of them in my hand and the softness of the skin against my lips. The silky fabric does nothing to mask her cold, hard nipples. The top ends short of her pants, so two inches of her belly can be seen. I think of those ab muscles in motion as she ground herself against me. Her pants seem to be those leggings that are made to look like jeans, letting me revel in the shape of her hips and thighs. It's a nicer, more feminine look than I would expect from her.

Perhaps she dressed up just for me?

"How long have you been here?" I ask. "You look frozen."

"Only a couple of minutes. But, yeah, I'm sooo cold."

"Well, come on in."

I step up to the porch and passed her to open the door. She doesn't move aside but stays right where she is, so I have to get close. She's laid the perfume on a little thick, but I don't mind; the scent is incredible--floral and earthy.

We step inside. With all my winter gear still on, the sudden upward temperature shift makes me sweat instantly. She closes the door and watches me as I start stripping off all the extra layers. I wish she'd look away. There's nothing erotic about the way I'm undressing, and I don't feel particularly sexy. I'm too sweaty and tired to feel sexy.

"So," I say, after the awkward silence has become too much, "it's certainly surprising to see you here. Didn't your semester end yesterday?"

"Yeah, but I drove here this morning."

"Here? Straight here to this house?"

"Yeah. My parents don't think I'll be in town until tonight."

She's insane. She must have gotten up at four in the morning to be here now.

"You knew no one else would be here?"

"Lena and I were comparing travel schedules; she said Jen was picking her up, not you."

"I got a gig coming up, need the time to get ready."

"Oh... cool."

"Chole... I'm not sure what you came here expecting--"

"But what happened last time was a mistake and can't happen again."

"Basically, yes. I--I don't think it was a mistake. It was good--beautiful even! But it would be a mistake to continue down that road. There's just no where it leads that won't be catastrophic to my life."

"I know."

"So please, no more showing up unannounced when you know I'm home alone."

She hasn't made eye contact since we came inside, but now she looks at me with longing eyes.

"I won't again, I promise."

She steps closer, so she must lift her head and look up at me.

"But I'm here now. No one is expecting me for hours."

Lord, help me. No, I've made my call. It's the right call.

"Chloe, I can't. It is probably better for you that way. It may not be the same a second time. Besides, I haven't showered today; I'm a total mess."

"I'd be happy to shower with you."

She presses her body against me and wraps her arms around my waist. I feel the firmness of her breasts against my ribs. She gives another huge smile as my swelling cock lengthens along her abdomen.

I take her hands, remove them from my body, and step back.

"Chloe... I'm not rejecting

you

. If I could be with you without consequence... I'm glad we shared that one experience and can look back on it. But that's all I can offer you. You should move on. Find yourself a young guy. Not that you have to be with one guy! You could find a bunch of guys. Not like all at once! I mean-"

She laughs.

"I know what you mean!"

"I'm glad. And please, please, don't let this affect your friendship with Lena. I'd never forgive myself if it did. You're still welcome here anytime she's around."

"Thanks. I appreciate you saying that. I really do. Well... I guess I should be going."

"Yeah."

She gives me a hug, but this one is different. It's not arousing--it's caring.

"See you 'round, Chloe."

"See you around."

She gives me one more look as she opens the door and the frigid air comes rushing in. She steps out.

I watch from the den window as she gets in her car and drives down the street, out of sight.

Christ. Am I becoming wiser, or am I a total fool? No, sending her away was right. She may promise to never visit unannounced again, but if I'd let her stay today, she would've tried again down the line. Now she's got the message loud and clear. I need a shower.

I head to the bathroom and strip. My cock is still hard in protest. I hop in the shower and get the water steaming hot. My shoulders and back thank me.

The water has had no effect on my hard on. In my mind's eye, I see her staring up at me.

She looks up at me and says, "I want you to teach me..."

I wrap my hands around my cock.

Her mouth is in mine. She takes off her shirt.

I usually don't do this sort of thing in the shower, but Jen's body lotion is at hand...

I rub her ass through her torn jeans as she takes all of me in her mouth.

My other hand slams against the shower wall for support.

She's on top of me, her creamy breasts moving closer and farther from my face as she rides me.

The water is so hot, I'm sweating. My whole body is tense.

She's on her back, legs spread wide. I enter her. It's so warm--so tight.

"Fuck, Chloe!"

Her eyes widened in surprise and delight.

All goes white.

I step out of the shower and dry off, very much relaxed. I wrap the towel around my waist, step into the hallway, and open the door to my bedroom.

"Feeling better?"

I'm at a loss for words. Chloe is on my bed, naked. She's on her knees, her ass resting on her heels. It may be the greatest sight my eyes have ever beheld.

"Chloe, this-- this is crossing a line-- I--"

She crawls forward, then takes the same poise at the edge of the bed.

"Are you going to send me away again?"

I step closer.

"I should."

"Well," she says, grabbing my towel, "just say the word, and I'm gone."

I don't say a goddamn thing.

"Alright, then."

She gives the towel one small tug, and it drops to the floor. It's been five minutes since I finished in the shower, and yet I'm already three quarters of the way back to a full erection.

"God, I missed this," she says, taking my cock in her hand. She begins stroking her palm along the underside of the shaft. And like that, I'm stiff as a rock once more.

I reach out and take her cheek in hand. Her eyes meet mine. Her mouth is open, ready for me.

All these sensations I longed to return to for the last five months--her hand on my cock, her breasts against my chest, her tongue intertwined--are all happening at once. She's hungry for it, kissing me as though she was an addict who hadn't had a fix in ages. It is gratifying to know our first time left her so desirous for more.

The combination of extreme ardor and the frustration that she has disobeyed my request to leave leads me to one conclusion: if she wants it so hard, I'll give it to her, hard.

I reach behind her head and grab her hair. I give it a firm pull, and her head snaps back. There's a scared surprise in her eyes--exactly what I wanted.

"I told you to go and not come back," I remonstrate, my voice deep and quiet. "You didn't do as I asked. Are you so desperate to get fucked?"

Her eyes turn defiant.

"I can get fucked anytime I want by any number of people," she says, her neck muscles tight as I hold her head back. "But I want to be fucked by you. I did what you said; I tried my luck with people at college. Fucked four guys and a girl, and none of them made me feel like you did that day."

I wrap my hand around her elongated throat.

"This isn't going to be like the first time," I tell her. "That was child's play. You sick of being fucked by boys?"

"Yes."

"You want to be fucked by a man?"

"Yes!"

I grip her hair and throat tighter.

"Swear you'll never disobey me again."

"I swear!"

I let her go. She slumps.

"Then get on all fours and start choking on this cock."

She doesn't hesitate, but drops onto her knees and elbows. In half a second, my cock is in the back of her throat, her lips against my balls. It's a good thing I already drained them today, or I probably would have come right there and then. She's bobbing her head forward and back like a jackhammer. It's far more intense than anything she did last time.

When it becomes overwhelming, I grab her hair and pull her back. Saliva flows freely from her mouth and down her chin.

"You've been practicing," I say.

"Just a bit," she replies. "All the boys at school want you to blow them like a pornstar. Too bad they don't have pornstar-sized dicks."

"To be fair, neither do I."

She looks down at my cock, then back up to me.

"Close enough," she purrs.

She takes it in both hands, delicately exploring it with her fingertips.

"I like its shape," she says. "I like that it's thickest just before the head. I like that it always touches the perfect places inside me. It's like finding the puzzle piece that fits perfectly into another. I want it in me."

The little minx! I'm supposed to be calling the shots. How did she take over? If she wants a battle for control, she's got one.

I grab her by the jaw and bring her face an inch away from mine.

"Good things come to those who wait," I tell her. "Now turn around, put your face on the bed and that fine ass of yours in the air."

She lunges forward to kiss me, but my hand slides instinctively to her throat, and I squeeze hard. She grabs my wrist with both hands, not to stop me, but so she can if she must.

"You swore to obey," I growl. Tighten my grip a touch more before letting go. She collapses and gasps for air.

"Now get that fucking ass in the air!"

She turns around and does as I said.

My God, what a glorious ass!

Ample but firm, the skin white and flawless.

I climb onto the bed, standing on my knees. I move beside her and place my left hand on the back of her neck, pinning her to the bed.

"Now," I say, "the plan was to eat up that cute pink pussy of yours for a bit, then fuck you like you wanted. But you had to go and disobey me, didn't you? And now..."

I slap her ass. Not too hard, just with my fingers, but it's enough to shock her. She lets out a small squeal.

"...we're going to have to go a different way."

I slap again, just as before. I see her back muscles tense in response.

"That hurt?" I ask.

"Yes," she whispers.

"Is that a problem?"

"No."

I smile and pull back my hand. This time I slap the meatiest part of her ass-cheek with my whole hand and immediately squeeze, my fingertips dimpling her flesh.

She screams.

"And how about now?" I ask. I keep my voice firm and continue to hold her down, but I am truly afraid that in my excitement, I have crossed a line.

She is silent for a moment, and I begin to become nervous.

Have I ruined this?

And then...

"I disobeyed," she says in a voice so quiet I can barely hear it. "I deserve it."

"But do you want it?" I whisper back, bending down to see her face.

She nods frantically, tears in her eyes.

"I want it," she says. "I want to be your bitch."

I am suddenly out of my own body, looking at the scene before me. I am on my marriage bed, pinning down Chloe, my daughter's friend whom I have known since she was a child, her bare ass thrust in the air, baring my red hand print, as she repeats, "I want to be your bitch."

The moment is wrong, despicable even, and yet I see a strange beauty to it, as though it is a destiny fulfilled. It may well be the worst thing I have ever done, and yet I have never felt more alive, as though I have become the ideal self I always longed to be.

I take my left hand off her neck but place it on her upper back, so she knows not to change position. With my right I begin to explore her ass, rubbing and squeezing every inch. And then I find it, perched between her cheeks, delicate and wet. I slide my thumb into her vaginal opening as my forefinger parts her lips and reaches her clit.

She moans my name, and her fingers curl, grasping the bed sheets, as I begin to slide my hand forward and back at a tortuously slow, steady pace. My thumb presses hard against the anterior wall of her vagina while I continually curl and straighten my forefinger as it rubs her clit.

I don't know how long I've been going, but I don't stop, don't change the pace or the pressure. My hand is cramping, but I don't care. Her fingers no longer grasp the sheets but are splayed as far apart as possible. Every muscle of her body is flexed tight, her skin bright red. She has forgotten how to breathe. She begins to slam her hands against the bed involuntarily until...

She bursts, finally releasing the air she'd held for so long. The exhale becomes a sonorous moan of pure orgasmic pleasure. Every bit of her begins to shake and twitch uncontrollably. After thirty long seconds of this, her strength gives, and my hand slips out of her as she drops from her knees to flat on her belly.

I move back, climbing off the bed. I stand back and take in what I have done.

She lies on her belly, the pale light of the wintery day pouring through the window and across her back. She takes long, deep breaths, the expanding and contracting of her ribs constantly causing tiny shifts in the musculature of her back, so the light dances along her every subtle line and curve. The light forms a bold white line along the curve of her firm butt which still bears the faint mark of my hand. Her legs stretch out, pale and perfectly smooth, ending in her dainty feet. She is turned toward me, but her black hair falls across her face.

I must move it aside. I must see her large, dark eyes.

But before I return to the bed, she moves, rolling onto her back.

I'm breathless. The natural light glances off the sweat on her ivory skin. Her breasts shine like pearls. Without her own weight restricting her lungs, she takes even deeper breaths, each one causing her chest to heave up and down. Yet it is her face that captures me, as I truly behold what I have made her. Her cheeks glow pink. Stray strands of hair stick to her sweating forehead. Her jaw hangs loose, causing her mouth to open just enough that I can look beyond her flush lips and see the slight gap between her front teeth. Her eyes are devasting in their beauty, red and wet with tears, yet open and accepting. Though her gaze remains constant, I see within it an ever-changing kaleidoscope of surprise, delight, relief, intimidation, reverence, pain, and joy.

I have broken her. I have completed her. I have ravaged her. I have inspired her.

She is mine.

I grab my cock and can feel my pulse through it. I stroke myself, and her tongue appears, resting on her bottom lip, just inside her mouth.

"Are you ready to continue?" I asked.

She nods.

I climb onto the bed as she pulls her feet closer to herself and drops her knees to the sides, opening her hips wide. My cock hovers above her bright pink pussy. It's so hard, the gentlest movement of my hand against it can be felt throughout my body. I lower the head, already glistening with precum, down to her clitoris.

"Oh! Oh...!" she cries between sharp, shallow breaths.

"Are you not ready?" I ask as I look into her nervous eyes.

"No," she says, breathlessly, "I want it. I want more than anything."

I was going to take things slowly, spend some time teasing her by rubbing my head on her clit, then barely entering her before pulling out again.

But no, I want to see her break again.

I plunge myself inside her as deeply as possible. She is so wet displaced liquid gushes out of her. Her back snaps to an arch, her body writhing in waves. She wraps her arms around my neck and begins moving her hips randomly, pressing her clit against the base of my shaft. Her feet come up and rest atop my butt. She presses her ankles into me, pressing my pelvis tighter against hers. She bares her teeth as she frantically grinds, desperate for more pleasure. She uses me for leverage and lifts her ass off the bed. My cock shifts position deep within her vagina, and we both vocalize the intensity of our bodies' responses. Her abs flex, and she sits up. I'm now standing straight on my knees; she is fully off the bed, legs wrapped around my torso, arms around my neck. I grab her ass with both hands to take some of her weight. She is grinding and grinding constantly, saying, "fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

After a while, holding her whole weight becomes too much, and I choose to fall backward. She lets out a shriek of surprise. And like that, we're in Cowgirl. Her frantic grinding never stops. She's a bitch in heat, straining for satisfaction. I can feel the flesh of her bottom shift as she twerks on my cock. She places her hands on my chest for support. It pushes her breasts together, and they look larger and perkier than ever. Sweat pours down her body. I can feel the heat radiating from her red skin.