Primal Desire

Another party, another night of babysitting. As usual, he's put in no effort. I'm decked out in a beautiful, hip hugging peach dress that hits just the right spot on surprisingly long legs. For someone as short as I am, I really did hit the genetic jackpot. He, on the other hand, is at least in pants but the top half leaves much to be desired. Though, I suppose there might be somewhere where a dirty old band tee would be appropriate. It's not like I can complain, the fact he's even coming out at all is more than I could have asked for. We reach the front door and I send over one last plea.

"David, please behave. For me?"

He snorts and shakes his head. I sigh, preparing myself for another frustrating night. I love this man, but after a while it gets damn exhausting playing mom all the time, and never getting to be girlfriend. I don't even get any of the girlfriend perks, shit it has been years since I've felt the touch of a real man. It's been years since I've gotten to just let go and get fucked. He likes it when I'm in control, so I am always in control. At least in the bedroom; regular life I don't get much of a say. Now that I think about it, I don't get much of a say at all. But I shouldn't be complaining, other women would kill to get to be on the arm of this handsome man. The beast inside of me that has been tied down for years and years disagrees, but I've been in sexual hibernation for so long that her incessant scream has dulled to a quiet whimper.

The door swings open and I throw my regular old bright smile on my face, though it doesn't reach my eyes. We step into the room, my arm linked through his, and I realize I am one of a very small group of women in stilettos, and the hardwood floors make the sound extra loud.

"Great." I mutter to myself. My anxiety is pretty low compared to others, but something about being 'that girl' with the loud ass heels makes me nervous and uncomfortable. I scan the room for any familiar faces, and don't find any besides the guy on my arm already downing shots of vodka like they're his lifeline, and the host.

My eyes connect with someone across the room and suddenly my stomach is in my throat. I feel my cheeks color without provocation as another smile twitches on my lips. This time, a real one that lights up my entire face. This man, I don't know who he is but that single glance awoke that damned beast inside of me, releasing the floodgates of desire. I squirm against the sudden onslaught of arousal dripping down my thighs, and tug my eyes away from his.

"I'll be right back." I whisper to the man on my arm. "Bathroom break." He nods, distracted by conversation, and I slip away. I find the bathroom without too much of a problem, and once inside I shut the door and close my eyes, my weight pressing against the cheap white door behind me. I look at myself in the mirror, smoothing the dress over my soft curves, long legs, and voluptuous breasts. I cannot stop thinking about that damn man, and I realize that I'm going to have to go commando for the rest of the night. I've already soaked through my cute little panties, and if I want to sit down anywhere it'll leave a nice wet mark on the back of my dress. I sigh, tugging them down my thighs, around the shoes, and then tuck them into the clutch resting against my hip. I reluctantly find my way back to my partner, and we spend some time meandering around the room, making small talk with the guests. At some point, I lose him for a few minutes, which is honestly a bit of a blessing. From what I can tell, he's already finished half a 2-6 in shot form and is now completely incoherent. I find myself being pressed into a small circle of people and, looking up, I realize that the four or five others standing around have their attention focused on that same man from earlier. Our eyes connect again, and I'm hit with another wave of intense desire. He winks and I blush, biting my lip in response without meaning to. Something about him has my hands shaking, so I clasp them behind my tailbone. This Adonis like man is telling a story, and he has everyone roaring, myself included. I can't tell if he's trying to make me laugh specifically, or if he's just usually the life of the party, but it doesn't really matter. I'm probably imagining the reflection of my own desire in his eyes anyways.

Suddenly, a loud, sharp, "WOOHOOOOOO" echoes through the room and everyone turns towards the sound. I'm expecting to see some drunk idiot table dancing, and that is exactly what I found. Though, I was not expecting that drunk idiot would be my boyfriend. The bass is low and deep, pulsating through my body to the beat of my pounding cunt, and he just happens to be stripping. I glance back at this Adonis creature and his eyes darken. My breath catches as another "WOOP" is tossed into the crowd. "Jesus fucking murphy" I mutter under my breath and turn away, making my way towards this drunk asshole effectively ruining my night. I was all of ten steps away, and in that span of time he's managed to pull off that ratty tee and is now venting himself with it as the women in the room cheer him on. Thankfully, the spins hit him before he could reach for his belt and his face contorts just before he topples over, sending half empty glasses crashing to the floor. The room gasps, and I send an apologetic glance over to the host, shaking my head.

"I...I feel not so good", David mumbles. Playing the good girlfriend, I guide him out to the lawn where he leaves what looked to be about a weeks' worth of lunches and dinners. Now, I have an extremely sensitive stomach when it comes to vomiting, but I stay like the loyal little fuck I am, rubbing his back, trying not to throw up with him. Thankfully I've been nursing the same rum and coke all night so there isn't much to expel. Adonis had come out to see what the fuss was about, along with about half of the party, but it looks like everyone else shares my hatred of sickness as they all headed back inside, accompanied with looks of disgust.

He stops, finally, just long enough to guide him right back inside, and into a bedroom with an unexpected en-suite. I lay him down against the toilet as he heaves again, muttering god even knows what, and I slip out of the room to grab a glass of water. My eyes scan the room again as I sneak into the kitchen, quickly finding exactly who I'm looking for. His smile is so bright, so genuine, but when his eyes lock with mine it's quickly replaced with the heavy look of a man craving something he cannot have. Once again, my breath catches but this time, I don't break eye contact. I keep mine focused on his as they drill a hole into the deepest, darkest, filthiest parts of me. I lick my lips, just a little, and turn around to head back, water in hand. I cast one last look over my shoulder, hoping he'll catch on. The hallway is dark, and I slip back into the room placing the water next to his head. I rummage around in the cabinets and successfully find a bottle of liquid ibuprofen and place two of them next to the glass. He can't take pills to save his life, but hopefully he'll be aware enough to remember to split them apart and pour them into the water. I gently touch his shoulder and realize he's fallen asleep completely, drunk snoring included. I grab the shirt tossed haphazardly onto the floor and tuck it around the chain of my clutch.

"Perfect.." I think to myself, accompanied by a pang of...guilt? Excitement? I make my way to the door, hoping against hope that I'll hear a knock. My prayers are answered so quickly I don't have time to think about waiting to open the door, I simply crack it slightly at the sound of the first rap and find exactly what I was praying for.

"It took you long enough." I smile softly. I take one last glance behind me to make sure David is still passed out against the porcelain throne, and press my hand against Adonis' firm chest.

"Are you really here to check on him?" I question playfully, my smile growing into something much more devious and enticing.

He mutters a quiet 'no', and every last ounce of willpower I have drains from my limbs, replaced with a rush of desperation that I haven't felt in years. He's quiet, suddenly. Almost timid, but the fire in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.

"You've been practically eye fucking me all night. You should help me put his sweater in the wash downstairs, its dark." I suggest, hoping he'll pick up on my need to be alone, in private, especially in the dark...Knowing what he has hiding in those dark blue jeans was enough to send me into a shuttering orgasm, and there is no way I'm going to pass up on this chance. Fuck morals, fuck right and wrong, and fuck my conscience. Right now the only thing that matters is the need I feel deep in my bones. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him downstairs, grateful that the door to the basement is actually around the corner of the hallway so no one will spot us. It helps that the party is officially in full swing, gaging by the sounds drifting through the ceiling.

As soon as we hit the last step, I shove him as hard as I can against the wall, pressing my comparatively small frame against his large, imposing one. My lips search for his in the dark, my desire overriding anything that doesn't involve climbing him like a damn tree. I shove my tongue so far into his throat I don't think he knows what hit him, but then his hands are gripping me the way a man lost at sea grips his life vest. His hands are as broad as the rest of him, and they ignite a fire inside of my veins. I reach down in the shadows, gripping his crotch, gasping at the enormity of what I find hiding behind the rough fabric. Suddenly, the only thing I can think of is how badly I need to taste him. I'm used to being the dominant one, which is partly why I took control so quickly. But to be honest, the main reason is that I felt like I was going to explode if I had to go another second without getting to touch him. I drop to my knees, looking up at him.

"Please, please let me taste you. I need...I need you.." The breathless edge in my voice giving away just how badly I was willing to beg and plead. He reaches down and removes my glasses as the other unzips his jeans, and I lose control again. It's like Christmas morning, when you know that the one present you wanted more than anything is waiting downstairs underneath the tree. I reach forward, tugging free the most beautiful cock I have ever seen. Long, thick, and as dark as the rest of him, I salivate at the sight. I take the base in one hand, while the other strokes him with pure admiration. My tongue darts out from between my parted lips and I press the tip against him, sensing his sharp intake of breath. I can feel my cunt creating a little pool between my knees as I lick my way around him, up and down his long, hard staff. Finally, I can't take it anymore and wrap my lips wide around him, twisting my tongue around the tip as I slowly ease him into my throat. It takes a minute before my nose is pressed against his pelvis; it's been a very long time since I've experienced someone with his girth. I look into his eyes as I open my throat, fitting him inside me right down to his sack, which my free hand is rubbing gently. Back and forth, faster, quicker, my tongue dancing around his cock, my saliva dripping down my chin. He tugs my dark hair into a pony and begins to move my face for me as I choke and bubble against him. He slows for a minute, positive he's hurt me, but to his surprise the only thing I mumble around his fullness is another plea, this time to fuck my throat harder. He grins a devilish grin and fuck my face, my nails digging into his thighs as my moans are muffled by the sheer force. My teeth grate against him, and I can feel his cum shooting up his cock as he struggles not to lose himself in the sensations.

My desire is overwhelming as I stand on shaky legs, leaning into him for another impassioned kiss. We lock lips for a minute, my mess becoming his, and then his hand is around my throat, eliciting another unintentional groan of pleasure, a gentle kiss placed on my cheek as he turns me around and bends me over the washing machine. I gasp as he presses his freed erection against me, still unaware there is nothing in his way except for the thin fabric of my dress.

"Ohh, fuck!" I moan. "Are you going to fuck me?" Absentmindedly, I wonder if he can hear the desperation in my voice. He doesn't say a word, instead he leans in close to my ear, so his breath slips across my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He flips the hem of my dress up and I can hear a deep growl of approval as he discovers my lack of underwear. I don't have much time to contemplate that, as he immediately buries his cock so deep inside of me I have to bite my lip to keep myself from screaming out. "Ohh, fuck YES!"

"Shut the fuck up", he demands, causing yet another flood of arousal to coat his already soaking member. My hands grip the sides of the washing machine, but I am unable to keep my mouth shut. "oh...oh yes, god yes, please...please, fuck me, harder!" I beg, and he wraps one hand around my mouth to keep me silent while the other finds its way into my hair, creating a perfect handle to fuck me harder. I was just about loud enough to catch someone's attention, and neither of us want to be interrupted. He fucks me, harder than I have ever been fucked, and if his hand hadn't been around my mouth stifling my screams, I'd have woken up the entire neighborhood. The release I had been fantasizing about for years was finally happening, and the never ending stream of orgasms were proof of that. I'm blessed with the ability to have multiple, wave-like, orgasms, including the ability to squirt, but it had been a long time since I had more than one or two at a time. Yet here I am, bent over the washing machine by a deliciously dark God of desire, creaming over and over again until I'm sure his cock was coated in my juices and there was no more room for a coherent thought. I finally have a chance to catch my breath and acknowledge the one thought in my brain.

"Please, will you fuck me on the washing machine?" I ask, like a good submissive girl. He pulls out reluctantly, and I flip around, hopping on top of the machine. He takes a moment, his gaze still hungry as it lingers on every part of my body. My dress is disheveled, my hair, and the look in my eyes, wild. My mouth twitches into a grin as I take him in from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, and our eyes meet. His grin matches mine. We shouldn't be here, we shouldn't be doing this, but yet here we are, strangers, animals tearing at each other in the basement of a mutual friends house. Who would have thought tonight would turn out so well?

Suddenly he's pressed against me again, but this time he's on his knees, burying his face between my legs. I gasp again, slamming my hand across my mouth, biting the fleshy part of my palm to keep quiet. His tongue is magical, flitting across my clit, darting into my cunt, making me cream all over him all over again, and again, and again. (I really can't stop once I get started). My legs wrap around him, heels pressed into his back to push him into me more, more. After 10 minutes of this, I begin to get lightheaded, all of the blood rushing to my lower limbs just to keep me upright. My legs are shaking so much I can't keep them wrapped around him anymore and in that moment, he stands, not even taking a millisecond to press his incredible cock deep inside of my cunt again. He wraps his hand around my throat, and I feel his cock harden even more at the light it sparks in my gaze. His other hand is gripping behind my knee, finding its way up my body to tweak my nipples as we shake the washing machine so much that it actually sounds as if it's running.

Another scream fills my lungs, but this time it escapes as a small whimper, my lips parting and head lulling backwards as I feel him pick up speed. It's his turn now, and I am impatient to feel him lose control inside of me. His hands drop to my waist, gripping me so hard I am sure it'll leave bruises as I pull him in for a kiss. We press against each other so forcefully it's almost as if we're trying to meld into one giant mass of limbs and heat. My nails turn into claws on the back of his neck as I feel him getting close, hitting my g-spot so perfectly that I could feel myself reaching the elusive squirting orgasm that I forgot I could do. The pressure, the pleasure, building up inside me so strongly I am suddenly grateful for his lips pressed against mine, keeping my moans muffled between us as we both lose control, my pussy spasming with release as he fills me to the brim. We hang on for dear life as the waves hit us both, over and over, slowing down bit by bit until we come back down to reality; sweaty, messy, chaotic reality.

Eyes closed, our tongues explore each other's skin one last time before he reluctantly pulls himself away, his breathing heavy. My hand dips down to the flood dripping out of me; slipping a finger inside of myself I bring the mess to my lips. I keep eye contact as I trace my tongue up my fingers, sucking off our combined juices from each digit until there is nothing left. I lick my lips one last time, sending another devilish grin his way. I could tell his breathing was already picking back up, as was mine, but we didn't have time for round two. I slip off the washing machine, taking the discarded sweater and wiping myself clean before opening the lid and tossing it in. I start the stupid machine, making sure to wash away any telltale signs of my eventful night, and fix myself, running my hands through my hair the best I can. I smile at him once more, and begin to traipse back up the stairs when his hand wraps around my arm.

"Who are you?" He asks, and I smile in return.

"My name is Maria", I reply before disappearing up the stairs and back into real life, leaving him behind, cock still hanging out of his trousers.