crushed her beneath him and pumped his endless fiery gobs of seed deep into her ass.
Locked together in the immense holocaust of the fuckstorm they had created, they quivered and shuddered, and groaned and gasped, dying through the violent beauty of the incredible spasms that tore through them. Time was obliterated, and it seemed to Fawn that the huge, shattering bomb of their mutual orgasm kept on exploding forever.
'Ohhhhh god, ohhhh god!' she moaned to herself, to him, to no one at all, 'ohhhhh I've never felt anything… anything like that!'
She heard him still puffing and gasping as he raised himself up off her and slid his still-stiff prick out of her wounded, flaming asshole.
Again he caressed her lower back and the high creamy moons of her sweat-glistening buttocks with his rough hands. 'Carol, Carol baby,' he gasped, 'you're the top. You're absolutely the top.'
Fawn was in a state of collapsed exhaustion, lying face down on the sheet, her wrists and ankles now aching from the absurd bonds that still fastened them securely to the bed. His using the name 'Carol' to address her now shocked her back to her senses, made her realize the bizarre nature of the moment. She wouldn't have traded the experience for anything, the shattering, killing beauty and power of the orgasms she could never have imagined or dreamed of, but now she felt shame, now that it was over. She felt shame and guilt, and she also felt like laughing at the strange sickness of it, the absolute kinky weirdness, all of it brought home to her suddenly by the name 'Carol'. She was tied up, for Christ's sake! She glanced up her sweat-damp arms at the electrical cord that bit into her wrists, and she felt the bonds that secured her ankles. How horrifying! How stupid! How oddly funny! Let me out of here! she thought crazily to herself. Untie me, let me get up!
Oh Jesus, did I actually let somebody do this to me?
'Untie me?' she whimpered, somehow still so confused that she couldn't demand it, but only request it. Her asshole burned and hurt, but the rest of her body still pulsed with the delicious sweet aftershocks of her tumultuous coming.
He lay down beside her, face to face, and stroked her back and kissed her forehead, her cheek. 'Untie you?' he asked, bemused, mocking her.
She nodded. 'Untie me.'
He shook his head. 'But we're not finished.'
'Not finished?' She tried not to panic. 'Look, you untie me! I asked you up here, and now I'm asking you to untie me. You did it to me beautifully, I mean it, but now I'm through. I don't want any more.
Please. Please untie me.'
But he merely grinned and paid no attention to her. He lit a cigarette and shared it with her. She kept begging him to free her. But he only shook his head and smiled, and from that moment on refused to speak. He showed her his massive penis, which had never gone entirely slack after he took it out of her asshole, but still remained half- stiff, pulsing, terrifyingly lovely and tireless. And when the cigarette was finished, he slid down her body and kissed and stroked the full globes of her buttocks again, then put his mouth on her cunt and gently, patiently tongue-fucked and clit-sucked her hot juice-burbling pussy until she was again coming in spite of herself. And by that time his amazing prick was ready again, as stiff and fierce as if it had not come for days, and he sank it into her cunt and fucked her slowly, with grinding, relentless determination for about twenty minutes, then stopped and smoked another cigarette with her, then went back to fucking her again.
Fawn realized that she deserved whatever she was getting, since she had initiated the whole business, and so she mastered her panic and found a horrible kind of joy in submitting and surrendering to him completely.
He fucked her another half hour before he came again. Then they rested and dozed, and awoke, and he invited her to suck the massive rearing pole of his cock, which she did, having no choice. But before she could make him come with her mouth, he got behind her again and slipped his prick into her pussy, and this time he fucked her so long and skillfully, bringing her along with him each step of the way, that soon she was coming again too, coming with him, coming so beautifully and softly and sweetly and continuously that when it was over, when the evening was over, she wondered if she would ever be able to come again in her whole life. He had depleted her, he had coaxed or torn from her every sensation her body was capable of.
About two o'clock in the morning he untied her, still not speaking.
Then he dressed and bent to kiss her, and whispered, 'I'll leave my phone number on the coffee table. And thanks for the ride, Carol.'
Chapter 8
Fawn's body felt flayed and hammered, torn and bruised, and it ached for days after the episode with the cab driver, whose name and phone number she had torn up immediately the same night, after he had left.
But it wasn't as easy as feeling plundered and used and dirtied, because for one thing the aches and bruises and welts and teethmarks on her body were not only painful, they were also sweet reminders of the unbelievable, tortuous ecstasies she had gone through. For another thing, no matter how sore, raw, and brutalized her body felt, they were nothing compared to the welter of shame and guilt and self-scorn and even self-hatred she felt. She was now certain that the strange, uncontrollable, murky, insatiable desires of her body were something she had to fear as never before, because whenever she gave in to them-as she had been doing more and more these days-they merely plunged her deeper into dark, twisted jungles of complicated shames.
After all, she knew she couldn't blame the cab driver for anything that had happened. She had more or less invited him to do whatever he wanted with her, and his only crime had been to take her at her word. She knew that somehow she had wanted him to administer to her a sexual punishment so harsh and severe that in the process of going down to the very bottom of her needs she would mysteriously scour them away so that they would not return to trouble her again. But all that had backfired.
She had wanted him to rape her and ravage her and fuck her in the ass, the thing she had most feared, and being tied down while he did it, all to her had seemed at the time, though terrifying, somehow very much in harmony with her needs. But instead of being released and cleansed by the fearfully beautiful punishment she had sought, she had loved every minute of it, even the minutes she knew she ought to have hated. Even though her body ached and throbbed for days, even though her mind swirled and crackled with guilt and horrible shame, she knew she wanted it again. Right now! I'd do it right now, again! she thought.
She decided that the only solution was to give it up entirely, as alcoholics rigidly denied themselves even the first, smallest drink.
Living without sex of any kind seemed unbearable, but she tried to get her bearings and stabilize the mad hungry swirl of her brain by recalling that she had never been this way until the day when she had first let her brother fuck her. That had been the start of it. Before doing it with Eric her needs had been normal, simple, easy to understand and fulfill. It was only since then that she had embarked on this frightening detour into shameful perversions, and seemingly unquenchable lusts.
The only way to stop that was simply to stop it, she told herself. And by that she meant stop it completely, entirely. She would have no sex at all, with anybody, and she would force herself not to think about it, and she would do everything possible to remove temptation from her path. She would stick to this plan as if it were a life or death matter-which she almost felt it was-until she began to feel some semblance of normality creeping back into the way she felt about it.
Having made this ironclad decision, and having convinced herself that there could be no escape from it, she found she was very glad that Kelley would be away for the week. By the time her roommate returned, all the marks and bruises on Fawn's body would have disappeared. It would also give her time to be alone and to adjust herself to the decision. If Kelley were there, Fawn knew, it would only be an added temptation. Fawn would want to fuck with her, and the desire would be almost impossible to withstand.
The only problem she had that week was with Jeff, whom she again had to keep at a distance, this time for different reasons. He kept phoning her, trying to coax out of her an explanation for her coldness, but she fended him off by telling him she was tired, or she had got her period, or she was going through a strange but temporary phase and wanted to be alone. He didn't like it, but he had recently grown accustomed to her moods and was less disgruntled than before.
