“What—”
“I said turn around.”
“Here?”
He nodded. “Here.”
“Steven, this is…” It was an outside wall of an out-of-the-way wing of an abandoned manse I’d bypassed too many times to count. Sure, we were a ways from the street and afforded some degree of privacy, but…
“It’s about time you learned what it felt like to be fucked outside,” he growled against my neck. “Now turn. The fuck. Around.”
When he spoke to me like that, the only thing I could do was turn around. The brickwork my hands fell against was rough, age-worn and liable to leave me with a few scratches. I groped around for a ledge or something to hold onto while Steven struggled behind me. A windowsill, any kind of buttress to this outside wall, but the size of the house and distance from the streetlights and the fact Steven was seconds away from fucking me meant I couldn’t—
“Wait.” I gulped, and Steven, though one hand was still on my hip, stopped. “You didn’t… That was what you went upstairs for?”
“Told you.” He panted a couple of times, breathless with the same anticipation and excitement I felt, no doubt. “I came prepared.”
“And you can see your way around in the dark?”
“I know where my pockets are. I know what’s in ‘em.” The sharp hiss of a zip rent the air, up until now silent but for the distance hum of traffic. Leather protested as Steven reached into one of his pockets.
“You’re not seriously thinking of doing this standing up, are you?”
“Sure I am. Unless you want to kneel on the ground?”
“When I can’t see anything?” I looked over my shoulder, but this far from civilisation caught only his outline, a vague silhouette.
“Use the light on your mobile phone. Check there’s nothing there. On the grass would be easier.”
“No fucking chance.”
“Then you…” Steven’s cold hand came into contact with my skin and I barely suppressed a yelp. “Will just have to put up with not seeing a thing and feeling it instead.” A well-lubricated finger worked its tip inside me and this time I couldn’t stop myself crying out.
Screwing my eyes shut, I realised I didn’t need to see a thing. All I needed was that sharp sting when Steven forced another finger inside, up to the knuckle, through the initial tightness. He moved his fingertips apart and I winced. Only the first few times, though.
When he crooked his fingers and hit me in the right spot the gasps turned to moans. And I needed more.
“God, you are going to be so fucking tight when I get inside you,” Steven murmured, and when he spoke like that I barely gave a damn whether we were discovered or not. It wasn’t likely, but still possible. And I just didn’t care. “I can think of better places.” He slid his fingers out, leaving me empty and wanting. “But this’ll have to do for now.”
My eyes watered and this was why I hated fucking face to face. This was why I liked the dark. Being assfucked in the grounds of an abandoned manse, sleazy and furtive? Fuck, yeah—that was exactly why I loved it.
“Move your feet back a bit. Wider apart.” Steven shoved my jeans further down my hips and I’d rarely felt more used. I heard the tear of foil, the sound of rubber on skin as he rolled the condom into place. Another zip, the lube bottle again, the snap as he closed it and, God, when his cock touched me I nearly lost it myself.
Both hands against the wall, the brickwork digging into my palms and me, helpless to resist or move at all as he pushed in, grunting against the awkward angle and position. I shivered, but not because of the cold.
“Jesus. Fuck, this is…” Steven groaned as he pushed in another inch. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, just…” I gulped back air, finally giving in to desperation. “Just fucking do it, would you?”
“There.” His final push was almost a shove, violent, and painful for a moment, but he stopped. “You sure you’re all right?”
Winded, I could do nothing but claw at the wall, unsteady on my feet until Steven’s hands on my hips reminded me I had to say something. “Yeah, I…” I sniffed, all the while searching for the right answer. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Definitely?”
“Yes.”
“Good. ‘Cause I’m not sure…” Moving back a little, he hissed in a long, slow breath.
“Not sure I can hold off much longer.”
“You’ve only just…” Steven’s inside me. Fucking hell, Steven’s inside me.
“I know, but…” Slower than before, he eased back in, gripping my hips to hold me at the right angle, or as close to it as we could get. “Fuck. This isn’t…”
“What? Isn’t it working?” I tried to look over my shoulder but the angle was all wrong.
“Yeah. It is. For God’s sake, don’t move, that’s just perfect. Don’t. Oh God…” Steven’s hips worked fasted against me, his speech ever more stilted and uncontrolled. “This isn’t the way I planned.”
“You planned this?”
“Not like… God, I can’t wait.” His fingers dug even deeper into my hips and I knew I’d be bruised in the morning. Another thing I didn’t care about, though I knew I probably should. But then, all I wanted was Steven’s cock as deep inside me as he could force it this way. I had little ability to move my hips but made the best attempt I could to angle them back onto him with each sharp, shallow—or too shallow for my liking—thrust.
One last jerk forward with a strangulated gasp, and Steven managed to utter one single word.
“Fuck.” A few seconds of gasping before he lifted his hands off me and staggered, pulling himself out. “Jesus, that was…”
Though my knees shook as I fell against the wall and twisted round to face him, I still managed to pull my shorts and jeans back into place without losing my footing.
He got rid of the condom and righted his clothing with as little grace and assurance as I then had. “I
