Chapter 8

"Fantastic!" Brian Steele groaned, pumping his hips back and forth as he drove his cock into my mouth. "Jesus Christ, Lisa-that's fantastic!"

Brian was kneeling above me, with his thighs spread around my head, and I was laying on my back on the bed in his room. We were both stark naked, and he was holding my head up by my hair, driving his erection in and out, plunging the shaft deeply down my throat, fucking himself into my face as though I were nothing more than an extension of some vivid erotic fantasy he was experiencing. My eyes were open wide, and I could see his hairy balls bouncing against his thighs as he drilled my sucking mouth.

In self defense almost, to keep from gagging on the throbbing length of his cock, I reached up and grabbed the pole of his cock with both my hands, wrapping my fingers around the slippery, saliva-wet shaft, and I began to jerk him off as I continued to suck him. I slid my fingers up and down the length of his cock, coordinating their movement to match the plunge and withdrawal movement of my straining lips. As I sunk my mouth down, as far as I could go, swallowing as much of his rock-like hardness between my lips as I could, I jerked my hands downward, banging my fist into the flat, heaving hardness of his belly. Then, when I pulled back, reversing the order of my advance, my fingers slid up the length of the reappearing shaft, until my doubled fists hammered at my own lips. The entire length of his erection was dripping with saliva, matting down his pubic hair, dribbling over his wrinkled balls, making the organ feel smooth and slippery under the tightening grip of my fingers.

"Soon, baby!" he moaned, pulling my face back and forth by my hair with his jerking hands. His back was bent like a bow as he strained against me. "Soon, Lisa...soon!"

I quickly picked up on the urgency of his excitement, sucking him harder, deeper, wetter. My face slipped furiously up and down his cock while my two hands jerked off the rest of his length. My tempo became frantic, and my coordination went completely berserk, losing all skill, relying totally upon raw passion. My wet fists hammered away at my pursed lips, until I could taste the warm saltiness of my own blood oozing between my teeth.

"NOW!" Brian Steele cried. He shoved his cock all the way down my throat. "I'm coming-now?'

I could feel the head of his cock expanding across the opening of my throat. Something thick and surging pumped up the length of the shaft, throbbing against the cushion of my tongue. The head of his prick opened up, and the orgasm exploded out, filling my mouth with his sperm. It was like a thick paste as it spread all over my tongue and teeth. My cheeks began to puff out as they filled like pockets with the spewing torrent of his sticky discharge. Between my straining fingers, I could feel his cock trembling as the rushing orgasm pumped more and more sperm between my lips.

I swallowed mindlessly, insatiably, drinking it down as if it were rich, creamy hot ice cream. Thick lumps of the fluid poured from the end of his cock, like water from a fire hose, gushing, spilling, rolling down my throat. I could almost feel it splashing in my stomach. So overflowing was my mouth, that the sperm oozed out from between my pressing, puckered lips, until the wetness ran like milky rivers down my chin. My hands banged into my face, splashing the sperm all over, drawing even more sperm from the limitless depths of his balls.

As if he were never going to stop, Brian's cock continued to pump come into my arid mouth. I used my hands like a pump, stroking him to create a vacuum, helping the sperm along its course. And then, when that wasn't effective enough, I began to squeeze my fingers into the softening flesh of his cock, as though it were a wet washcloth, and I were trying to wring it dry of the last few remaining drops of his sperm. My mouth was filled with drool, and I'd swallowed so much, my throat felt raw.

Fatigue began to wear me down, and I stopped pumping my hands up and down. The shaft was slippery, and my fingers unlaced, and my hands fell away from the fleshy pole. As if they were weighted down with lead, my hands dropped to the bed, sending faint ripples through the mattress. My mouth, however, continued to suck upon the spongy stick of his cock, even after it had ceased to throb, and no further sperm oozed out. With my sliding tongue, I cleaned the sperm from the inside of my mouth, licking the end of his cock clean, as well. Even though it was finally flaccid, I found myself continued to marvel at its hugeness.

"Enough," said Brian, untangling his fingers from my hair. I continued to keep my neck tilted forward, refusing to relinquish my hold upon his limp penis. He began to push me away with his hands. "Come, on, Lisa-let go. It's beginning to hurt."

He put his fingers into my mouth, and pried my lips apart. Then, in a single fluid motion, he jerked his hips back, pulling his cock out of my mouth, and tilted to the side, falling from his kneeling position on top of my chest. He landed on his side, causing the bed to bounce violently, rolling over on his back, with his arms splayed out in exhaustion. His cock hung limp and broken-looking against the bulging muscle of his thigh. His chest rose and fell fitfully.

"God...Lisa," he moaned, staring at the ceiling. "That was...incredible. You've got some mouth."

I was in no mood for compliments at the moment. The fire of my passion had not dimmed in the slightest. In fact, just the reverse had happened. Feeling Brian go off in my mouth as he had only made me hotter, more passionate, more in need of his releasing attention.

I pushed myself up from the mattress, the wetness between my thighs running like paste down my flesh. My breasts were swollen, and the nipples so erect, I was almost afraid to touch them, afraid they would snap off in my hands. I could actually feel my clitoris between the fluttering lips of my cunt. It felt like a hot marble, rubbing erotically back and forth as I moved. I could hardly see where I was going, my eyes were so clouded with passion. Groping on my hands and knees, like some kind of low animal, I reached for Brian.

"Hey, come on," he protested, lifting his knee so that his prick was out of reach. "Cut it out. It's still too sensitive."

"But I need to come!" I cried, my flesh on fire, my blood boiling. "You came...now I want to. You promised me. You said that if I let you come in my mouth, you'd satisfy me....Now I need it, Brian!"

He shook his head. "Sorry, lady," he said. He pulled himself erect, leaning heavily against the headboard of his bed. "No can do."

I thought I was going to go out of my mind I was so aroused. "But you promised!"

Brian was still breathing hard, and his naked, sleek flesh was covered with a thick, oily coating of perspiration. The thick muscles of his chest looked like armor plating as they rose convulsively up and down. Propping himself up further, he reached across to the nightstand beside the bed and worked a single cigarette from the crumpled pack. He put it in his mouth and lit it with his lighter. He sucked deeply on the cigarette, making a sizzling sound with his lips.

"Christ," he said, exhaling loudly, "I needed that."

"What about me, goddam you!" I screamed, so frustrated I thought I was going to cry.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. He offered the cigarette to me. "I didn't know you smoked, Lisa."

I slapped at him viciously, knocking the cigarette across the room. "You cruel sonofabitch," I screamed, trembling with rage. "You know damned well what I'm talking about!"

Brian cocked his head slightly, masking his sweaty, handsome face in a look of innocent concern. "Lisa, darling, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. Perhaps if you told me...."

"Fuck me, you prick!" Tears squeezed out of my eyes in my anger, and when I felt them staining my cheeks, I became even more angry, this time at myself, for exposing myself to more of his humiliation. I wanted to claw his face, rip his heart out with my fingernails. "Fuck me, you son-of a bitch! You promised."

He sighed philosophically. "Darling, I know I promised, but-" he indicated his limp penis "What can I do about this?"

"You...promised...me."

He picked up his limp prick in his hand, flopping it back and forth, so that it made a wet plop against his fist. It reminded me of a dead fish.

"Well," he said, shrugging, "If you really think you can do something with this?...."

"You cocksucker!" I cried, weeping openly now, crying as much in anger and frustration as in humiliation. I banged my fists against the mattress in sputtering disappointment. "You prick, you scummy thing, you emasculated, ball-less faggot...you shit...you dirty, filthy, degenerate liar...you...you!...you-"

Brian looked at me, feigning shock. He waited until my rage spent itself. "Are you quite finished?" he asked, blowing smoke in my face from a second cigarette he had lighted.

"No!" I screamed. I slapped the second cigarette out of his hand. It fell on the bed.

Brian picked it up. "You know something? You're probably good for me, Lisa. You'll get me to quit smoking yet."

I glared at him, feeling my passion burn itself out in my belly, shrinking smaller and smaller, until all that was left of it was a smoldering, burned out ash.

Brian snapped his fingers. "I know!" he said. "Why don't you use your fingers? That's it-do yourself!"

I spit at him. "Fuck you."

"Come on," he urged. He leaned forward, coaxing me on. "I think that would be wild. I'd love to see you jerk yourself off. Come on, Lisa...do it for me."

"You go to hell," I said coldly. "I am finished playing your games. No more...no more! No more humiliation, no more doing things for you, your way, no more being used! No more, Brian...no more!"

He shook his head. "Does that mean you're not-"

"I'm getting out of here." I made a move as if to climb off the bed. I looked at Brian. He was busy smoking his cigarette, consciously making an effort to ignore me.

I trembled with indignation. "All right!" I said. "I'm going!" Walking on my hands and knees, feeling somewhat absurd, I crawled to the edge of the mattress, and stepped off the bed, and stalked across the room, stark naked. I began to rummage through the pile of our hastily discarded clothing.

Brian continued to smoke his cigarette.

"Where's my dress..." I muttered, pretending I couldn't find it in the tangled heap of clothes. I said it louder, so he'd have to respond: "Goddamn it, where's my dress?"

Brian looked up. "Search me," he said, and he made an exaggerated shrugging motion.

I pulled the dress out of the pile. "Here it is!" I pulled it over my head, disregarding my underwear, buttoning it half-way up so that my breasts still hung out. I stalked back across the room. "Where are my shoes?" I demanded absurdly.

Brian pointed with the cigarette. "Right there."

"Fine."

I slipped into the shoes. "I'm going now," I said.

Brian studied his burning cigarette. "Hmmmm."

I stomped across the floor to. the bedroom door. I put my hand on the doorknob, then hesitated. I turned and looked back at Brian who remained on the bed, still studying his cigarette.

"You're not going to say anything?" I said, feeling my conviction slipping away.

Brian looked up and smiled. "Goodbye." And then, as if it were an afterthought, he said: "Oh, yeah. Make sure you don't forget to put your tits back inside your dress before you go out on the street. I wouldn't want you to get a chest cold or anything."

I fumed, gritting my teeth. "And you're just going to sit there? You're not going to try and stop me?"

He pressed the tips of his fingers together. "What do you want me to do, Lisa?" he asked, sounding angry. "You want me to beg you to stay? I'm not going to." He crushed the stub of his cigarette out in the ashtray. "You know, you're really something. You really are. There you are, threatening to walk out on me, and you're pissed off. You're fucking incredible. You really are."

"Now wait a minute," I said, stalking back into the room, thankful for the opportunity to argue, using it as an excuse not to walk out. "Can you blame me for being mad? After what you did to me?"

He swung his feet around on the bed, placing them on the floor. "And what did I do to you that was so goddam terrible?"

"You ignored me." I walked back and forth in front of him, the heels of my shoes clicking loudly against the bare wooden floor. "You used me! You lied to me! You humiliated me! You-"

"How did I do all of that? By refusing to fuck you?" Brian shook his head in disbelief. "What the hell did you want me to fuck you with? My cock was limp...useless! You drained me...What did you want me to do? Put a splint on it and then shove it into you?"

"But you promised me!" I insisted. "You promised that if I allowed you to come in my mouth-"

"Well, I'm very sorry," he said with indignation. "But I didn't mean to disappoint you. I didn't plan it that way, you know. How the hell was I supposed to know that you were so goddam good that I wouldn't be able to continue? That's never happened to me before....Dammit."

I saw what he was trying to do, and I attempted to head him off. "Then why couldn't you have acted differently towards me?" I asked. "Why were you so cold, so indifferent, so cruel?"

"I wasn't any of those things." He stood up and pointed his finger at me. "You know what I was, Lisa? I was humiliated!"

"That's right...that's right!" He began to follow me around the room, shouting at my back. "I was humilated by you! What makes you think you're the only one who has any pride. How do you think I felt, after I promised you that I would fuck you, and then found out I couldn't? How do you think that made me feel?"

The argument was almost believable, but.. . .

"You were humiliated," he muttered. "You know I'm supposed to be something of a stud, Lisa. At least in my eyes I'm supposed to. I'm only seventeen, you know, in the prime of my sexual powers. How do you think it makes me feel to know I failed you?"

I know what he's trying to do, I told myself. I know what he's trying to do. Yet, despite that awareness, I found myself wanting to believe him.

"And then you wonder why I was quiet," he continued. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain! What's that? Can't perform? I'm leaving! Then zip! You're off in a huff. No explanations asked for, no explanations needed." He looked at me with the eyes of a wounded doe. "You know, I'm not a stud service, Lisa. I'm a person."

With that, he turned and walked away in silence. He sat on the edge of the bed, lighting another cigarette. I stared at him, sensitive of the silence which had settled on the room, not knowing quite what to say. It sounded so plausible, yet somehow I had the feeling he was conning me. "Brian.. . " I began.

He looked up at me. "I was going to do you, Lisa," he said, his soft voice quivering with emotion. "Honest to God, I was. I just needed a little time...a little time to recover.. . . "

I suddenly felt shitty about the whole thing. "Is that the truth, Brian?"

"Of course it is, Lisa," he said. His eyes were open wide, and there were tears in them. "Would I lie to you? Would I, baby?"

"No," I said in a humiliated whisper. "I guess not." I walked across the room and sat next to him on the bed. I reached across and touched his naked knee. "I...I'm sorry, Brian. I guess I just misunderstood."

He placed his hand down on top of mine, patting it affectionately. "Forget it, baby. It's no big thing. Just as long as everything is all right between us again." He looked at me. "Is it?"

"Sure," I said, sensing that I had lost something very fundamental. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry, Brian. I...I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Lisa," he said, looking away from me, the unmistakable glow of triumph in his clear blue eyes. "I forgive you."

I bit my tongue, but said nothing. Why bring it all up again. It was bad, but it was over.

But Brian wasn't about to let it drop so easily. Just as I might have done in his place, he pressed his advantage aggressively.

"Come to think of it, Lisa," he said. "You've been acting strangely all night long. Is something bothering you? Are you due for your period or something?"

In the eternity of the instant before I responded, my thoughts went back over the events of the night, touching lightly upon them in flashing images, reviewing each one in mind, as they led up to this very moment.

I hadn't wanted to go out with Brian, I remembered. Not this way, at least. It was too dangerous. Someone might see us together, and then my reputation at the school would have been irredeemably shattered. But Brian had insisted that we make it more than just a night of frantic lovemaking at my apartment. We should celebrate, he'd said. Make a night of it. We should celebrate my passing your class. So we did, against my better judgment, and we went out together on, as he called it, "our first date."

We'd gone to a film together: a sleazy porno film in a dirty, rundown theater, filled with men who did nothing but stare at me more than at the fucking and sucking on the screen. I felt incredibly embarrassed and ill-at-ease, but Brian had insisted that we sit through the entire show, shorts and all, so we'd be in the proper mood for later on.

Afterwards had been no better. He took me on a tour of all the dirty book stores in Times Square, making me enter each and every one of them, forcing me to stand right next to him while he flipped through the beaver magazines, and then through the special, imported magazines from under the counters. And then back out again, walking through the crowded Manhattan streets, through the throngs of men and women, any of whom conceivably could have known either Brian or me. And, on those who didn't know us, how their heads would turn as we walked past them. And they would stare at Brian, and they would stare at me, and they would stare at each other and smile with superior, unspoken awareness.

Finally, after we'd eaten frankfurters on a street corner, Brian decided to take me home. His choice of transportation was strictly for my benefit-the subway. And, as. we were sitting beside each other on the crowded subway car, with all those other strangers staring at us, Brian decided to "put on a show for them if they really wanted to watch something." Before I had a chance to say anything, he pulled me to him, and kissed me passionately on the mouth, forcing his tongue between my protesting lips.

And then, the worst offense of all, in front of all those fascinated onlookers, Brian reached up while he was kissing me, and put his hand on my breast, fondling it through the soft material of my sweater. I thought I was literally going to die when I felt his fingers tighten around my tit; I could feel the hot blush of embarrassment rising up from my feet until my face was a glowing deep scarlet. It remained that way until we left the subway, all during the long ride home. And then, when we'd gotten here, it had been no better. No one was home at Brian's house, so, after I'd given up trying to convince him it would be safer at my place, we came to his parents' home to make love.

Making love was hardly the word for what happened. Brian had been brisk, functional, and totally lacking in any tenderness in the way he handled the situation. He'd been crude, vulgar, and he'd made fun of my naked body, telling me my tits were beginning to sag. And then there was the traumatic mess of the blowjob, and the way he'd treated me afterwards, twisting things somehow so that I wound up apologizing to him for my hurt feelings!

God, what a night it had been. Each and every thing Brian had forced me to do had been calculated to humble me, humiliate me, and degrade me. A thousand times during the night I'd asked myself: why am I standing for this? Why am I allowing him to do this to me? Why don't I just pick myself up and leave? But I didn't leave, no more than I could have left a moment ago, when I'd threatened to. I couldn't leave for a very simple reason: because I was as much a product of my own past as was any character, from any book.

"Is something bothering me?" I said, repeating Brian's question. "Don't be silly. What could be bothering me? It's all in your imagination."

Brian leaned close to me. "I'll tell you something that isn't my imagination." He grabbed my breast as it hung out of my dress, pinching the nipple. "I think I can do it again now."

A shudder went through me. Brian was ready to teach me my next lesson.

"Good," I heard myself say.

"Stand up," he commanded.

I did as he asked, and he stripped the dress from me, kissing my breasts, and fondling my cunt. He played with the clit a few times, then thrust his middle finger into the pudding of my cunt, stirring the finger around several times, until he'd managed to reawaken the sleeping, unfulfilled orgasm from before. Despite my premonition, I felt myself responding to his next abasement.

"Get on the bed," Brian said. "I think I want to eat you."

I let him eat me, not because I wanted him to, but because I needed him to. In the end, however, I realized the reason had lost its meaning. The results were the same, as I was driven to those same heights of passion I would have been had his motives been different. I wrapped my thighs around his neck, and I pulled his head against my wet, humping middle.

"Turn over. I want to get you from behind."

I turned over, laying flat on my belly, spreading my thighs.

He slapped my ass stingingly. "Get this up high," he said, pulling me up roughly. "That's right. Sort of kneel down. Put your face against the mattress, and your ass up in the air. Good...good! Now spread those thighs. Wider...wider!"

I compiled with his every request, with no more resistance than a marionette hanging from the fingers of a supreme puppet master.

Brian climbed down between my thighs, licking my cunt from the rear. He drilled the wedge of his tongue in and out, then up and down, licking me from the tip of my clitoris to the puckered ring of my anus. His tongue stopped there, and he stabbed it forward, spearing into my anal canal. I groaned in exquisite ecstasy, nearly swooning from the intensity of my pleasure. I could feel his thick spongy tongue inside of me, stretching open the tight mouth of my ass, filling that gripping passageway.

He began to flit his tongue from left to right, pushing himself deeper and deeper into me, as if he were attempting to touch every inch of that unexplored channel. I could feel the saliva rolling down the crease of his tongue, pouring into me, until I could feel it bubbling out, and dripping wetly between the dank cheeks of my ass.

His tongue withdrew, and I almost came from the sudden rush of sensation. I caught my breath, and grasped my emotions tightly in my fists, aware suddenly of the next grade of mortification Brian had promoted me to.

"I'm gonna fuck your ass!" he declared, as though he were reading my mind. And, as I thought about it, perhaps that's exactly what he was doing.

The final degradation, I thought, oddly relieved. The final humiliation. Well, so be it. Let it come, let it happen, and then, let it be over.

Brian positioned himself behind me. He pushed his erect rod toward me, missing the hole by about an inch.

"Lower!" he demanded. "Put your ass lower. Raise your spine. That's it-up on your hands and knees. That's it! Now-back!"

The tip of his cock brushed my anus. I tightened myself instinctively, closing my eyes, tensing my muscles. Shame made my face flush with self-hatred as I saw a mental image of myself: on my hands and knees, like a slave prostrating herself before her master; and Brian the master, ready to exercise his thick-fleshed superiority.

Brian gripped the cheeks of my ass between his powerful hands, and he pulled them apart, as if he were trying to tear my body in half, ripping me up the length of my spine. As he did so, he thrust himself forward with all his strength, pitting the thickness of his cockshaft against the rubbery, resisting hole of my anus. I felt the ribbed hole strain as it attempted to remain closed, protecting the last bastion of my virginity. But the force of Brian's thrust was too powerful, and the wet hole oozed open. And, for the first time in my life, a cock-Brian Steele's cock!-slid up into my ass.

"Ohmygod-it hurts!" I moaned. I tried to pull away. I tried to expel it from my anal canal by tightening my muscles around the cudgel-like invader. "Oh, Jesus...Jesus!"

Leaning forward, on the ball of his knees, struggling for the best possible leverage, Brian moved his hands from my ass cheeks to the front of my thighs. He grabbed my legs and pulled me back. He drove the pole of his cock forward, pushing himself deeper and deeper into me, impaling me upon a column of rigid flesh.

My ass-hole was on fire. The blunted tip of Brian's shaft was just beyond the ring of muscles at the entrance of my anal canal. His cock felt like a crowbar inside of me, prying me open.

"Fuck me hard!" I cried. "Push it into me!"

Brian's fingers tightened like iron pinchers into the tender flesh of my thighs. In a spectacular feat of strength, he lifted my body up from the mattress, and sawed the cock into my ass. The suddenness of the movement, and the overwhelming force with which it was delivered, made my spine seem as if it were going to snap. I could feel the length of his cock, straining to get in.

And then, somewhere deep inside of me, something loosened, and the canal opened wide.

Brian's cock slid up my ass.

"Oh my God!" I screamed in agony. It was as if a hard column of fire were being rammed into my body. And yet, somehow, before the penetration was half over, my scream of pain, had become a long, loud moaning sob of pleasure. "Oh my God! . . .Oh my God!...OH MY GOD!"

Deeper and deeper the cock pushed: like a blunted knife tearing a path through my resisting flesh.

"Take it!" Brian cried, humping himself violently against me. "Take it, Lisa...take it!"

Then deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until every throbbing inch of his hard flesh was inside of me. The sensation was un-like anything I've ever felt in my life. I screamed in pleasure: "Oh...Oh!...Oh!"

Brian's cock was hard inside the canal of my ass. There was pain no longer-only the most excruciatingly intense pleasure I have ever known in my life. It was so total, so swollen, so filled with sheer, perfect levels of ecstasy I was awed and humbled before it. I squeezed myself down around the incredible hardness spreading through my body, and a wave of weakness engulfed my thoughts, and reality began to slip away from me. I was a heartbeat away from both coming and passing out, and I didn't care which happened first.

"Fuck me, baby!" I heard myself moan, weak from so much pleasure. "Oh God-fuck my ass!"

Brian began to move against me, pulling his cock back, as if he were going to withdraw. The canal of my ass gripped his cock fiercely, attempting to hold back the movement, sensible of what would happen the moment he began fucking himself in and out. My insides felt like they were being ripped out: as if he had a hook on the end of his deeply-embedded shaft, and it had pierced my vital organs. Inch by straining inch he drew further and further back, with the swollen head of his cock rubbing, scraping, clinging tenaciously against the slick tunnel. It was a singularly sexual, tremendously erotic sensation.

Finally, I could feel the head of the shaft almost empty the passageway, hovering for an instant at the very mouth of my anus. Then, with an angry, determined effort, Brian pushed forward again, refilling me with his ravishing cock, and I began to come.

I moaned, like an animal, because there simply were no words commensurate to the pleasure of my orgasm. I screamed, at the top of my lungs, coming and coming and coming, again and again, with each throb of his pounding shaft, with each new penetration, from every humping thrust of his cock as it reamed out my anal canal. Colors began to flash wildly in my thoughts, and the well-lighted bedroom seemed to grow dim, then spin wildly out of control. In and out, in and out Brian thrust, ramming his cockshaft into me from a hundred different angles, each penetration touching off a new, and never before experienced level of release.

And yet, as blinding and as shattering as my orgasm was, a single element of my thoughts was somehow detached from the flood of pleasure, and looked upon it objectively, telling me what this all meant: Brian Steele, as he fucked my ass, and made me come until I thought I was crazy, was literally dominating my body, physically as well as symbolically, and there was nothing at all I could do about it: Brian Steele was now in sole possession of my soul.