Pure Punishment(13)
“Remember the rules, no talking. If you do, I won’t let you come.”
I want to tell him to get fucked, and that in no way possible is he the boss of me, but for some strange reason unknown to me, no words leave my mouth.
He drops his hand and stalks toward me. As soon as he’s in front of me, he pulls my skirt and G-string off in one pull. I’m now exposed bare for him to see, except my red bra which hasn’t left my body yet. My nipples are so hard that the fabric rubbing against it is almost painful. He inserts two fingers into his mouth and makes a popping sound when they exit. I stand there like a statue, a naked statue waiting to see where he’s going with this.
His hand sneaks out and captures my very wet pussy and his fingers plunge straight into me, enticing a moan from my mouth. I want to demand more when his thumb starts circling my clit. My legs are feeling weak and all I can think about is him buried so far inside me he’ll forget his rules and just get lost in me.
I start riding his hand, my hand now placed above his making the movements to my own pleasure. Just as I’m about to scream, he rips his hand away. My eyes shoot open and then I’m shoved against the toilet door and lifted with such force anyone would think he’s fucking Superman.
My legs move around his waist. Then he’s in me in one swift move, breaking all my walls down with the ecstasy of being filled and being touched in all the right places. His mouth descends on my hard as fuck nipples, and then he starts to move. Lord have mercy on my soul.
I am in heaven!
He bites my shoulder then comes back to my breast and I’m in full-blown rapture. His movements speed up and I can feel he is close, just as close as I am.
“Faster,” I scream into his ear.
His movements stop and he looks at me. I see the confusion is his eyes and I’m left wondering why. His warmth leaves me and I’m deposited back onto the floor. He doesn’t say a word as he rips the condom off and throws it in the trash and pulls his pants up. I’m looking at him like he’s grown a dick on his head. My pussy is still screaming for more and my head’s gone crazy.
“I told you not to say a word.” And with that statement he turns and walks out the door without saying another word. I’m about to go after him and rip him a new one when I realize I have no damn clothes on. I reach for my torn skirt, not even worrying about the torn underwear on the floor, throw my shirt on over my head and take off after him.
As soon as I step back into the bar I look around frantically for him. I come up blank and don’t see him anywhere. My blood is boiling and my pussy is still screaming for more. I notice the bartender looking my way and I know what I have to do.
“You,” I point to him as I step closer, “Condom and toilets now.” He looks surprised but doesn’t waste any time.
The frontal lobes are the seat of judgment and decision-making.
As I enter the once familiar café where we last had lunch, a shiver breaks out on my skin. I don’t want to deal with his questions again today. I will hightail it straight from the café if he thinks he can ask things that have no meaning to him. Lost in my thoughts, I feel the warmth of a hand on my back guiding me to a table situated in the corner of the café. I know I should knock his hand off, but I can’t seem to do it. The warmth radiating from his hand makes me realize how no one has ever touched me in such a caring manner, let alone cared for me.
I’m reluctant at first to take a seat because I know as soon as I do the warmth will be gone and I will once again be filled with loneliness.
“You’re quite the puzzle, do you realize that?”
My head shoots up at his voice and I give him a questionable look. He smirks at me, answering my question.
“You act as if you don’t know me, but we do know each other. I actually know you quite well.”
I shake my head having no idea what he’s talking about. I don’t know this man from a bar of soap. I’ve seen him once before class, the night he knocked on my door, but that’s as far as it goes.
“And when I touch you, you crave it. I felt you sink into me. I could have held my hand on you and guided you anywhere and I think you would’ve gone willingly.” He’s now sitting across from me with his eyes trained solely on me.
“I think you need help. I don’t know you at all. I’ve seen you once in my life before you were in my class, but I doubt that counts as knowing someone. And as for your touch, you couldn’t guide me anywhere. Your touch was something I didn’t want nor will never want.”
Lies, lies, all lies.
My mind screams at me. Okay, maybe I was lying about his touch, I did really enjoy that. But as for the rest of his statement I didn’t.