“Holy fucking shit,” he says under his breath.
“You’re going to cum already, aren’t you?” Taylor says, her tone harsh, which (as she probably well knows) doesn’t do a damn thing to quench his enthusiasm.
Scott nods.
“Then cum already,” she says, not slowing down one bit. “Come on you piece of shit, shoot your pathetic load inside me and get it over with.”
Scott obliges, blasting his seed up into Taylor, bucking and shimmying beneath her as she continues to ride his cock. She doesn’t let up, even after he’s expelled all his seed, continuing to bounce up and down on him as though oblivious to the fact that he’s done.
He allows her to do her thing, assuming she’s going to climb off him any second now. But a good half-minute later she’s still showing no signs of letting up. She’s staring down at him, taking pleasure of his discomfort, seeing how far he’ll let her take it.
A full minute later he’s done. His boner is all but gone and she’s starting to rub him raw. No longer willing to play the submissive, Scott lifts Taylor off him with ease and tosses her down onto the other side of the couch. She’s laughing, her face full of good humor.
“So what did you think?” Taylor says.
“I liked it,” Scott replies. “Loved it, actually.”
She smiles. “I told you.”
“You certainly did. I can’t believe you were right. But you were.”
“It’s a natural extension of things,” Taylor says. “Those who like to dominate also like to be dominated. Most of them will never admit to it, but it’s true in almost every case. It’s the same basic compulsion, just a different side of the coin. You almost never see one without the other.”
“I didn’t know that,” Scott says.
“I know you didn’t,” she says, leaning forward to plant a little kiss on his lips. “Which is exactly why I had to teach you.”
“Thanks for that.”
“My pleasure,” Taylor says as she stands up and starts gathering her things. “So you’ll want to go this route again some time, I suppose?”
“Hell yes,” Scott says. “Next week. If I can wait that long.”
“Cool. But I have to warn you; next time I won’t take it so easy on you.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You call what you just did to me taking it easy?”
Taylor pauses in her efforts to redress and flashes him a look of disdain. “Think of all the things you’ve done to me and think about what I did to you tonight.”
Scott purses his lips and nods his head. Taylor is right, of course. She didn’t do to him a fraction of the things he’d done to her in the past. “I see your point.”
“I’m glad that you do,” she says as she puts the finishing touches on her shoes. “But don’t worry, the more extreme I get with you the more you’ll like it. I promise.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because that’s how these things work,” Taylor says. She grabs her bag and heads for the door.
“I don’t know . . .” Scott says, only half-serious.
“Yes you do,” she says, arriving at the door. She turns the handle, opens the door, and glances back one last time before leaving. “You know damn well that you’ll like.”
Laughing under his breath, he says, “You’re right.”
“Of course I am,” she says, flashing him a smile. “I always am.”
And with that she steps outside and closes the door behind her.
Scott shakes his head and drops to the couch. He’s already looking forward to the next time. “I’m a sick man,” he says aloud. He grabs the remote and flips on the television. “A sick, sick man.”
#####
GETTING WHAT SHE WANTS
Matt Harper was just hanging out in his apartment, watching a little bit of television and relaxing from a long day at work when he heard a knock on his door. He wearily climbed off the couch and headed over to the door, idly wondering who was there. Was he going to get assailed by someone trying to sell him a security system? Or perhaps someone trying to convert him to some obscure religion? Or maybe just someone at the wrong unit?
He glanced into the peephole so he’d have an idea of what to expect. But what he saw was something out of his wildest dreams.
Matt took a half-step back, his heart pounding wildly. Was this really happening? He couldn’t believe it. He pinched himself but only got a sharp pain in return. So it wasn’t a dream. What could it be then? Because it couldn’t be what it appeared to be. No way. His luck wasn’t that good. Unless it had finally turned? Unlikely, but possible. Either way, there was only one way to find out. So, making sure to keep his hopes down, he took a deep breath and opened the door.
Standing in his doorway was Nikki Wilson, the 22-year old raven-haired bombshell that lived down the hall, five units away on the opposite side. She was standing there in a black lace, low-cut, form-fitting slip that barely made it down to the middle of her thighs. Nothing else.
Matt couldn’t help but stare. Her long black hair hung down below her shoulders, partially covering her face, framing her soft features perfectly. The big brown eyes, small nose, full lips, flawless skin. The little mole on her cheek that he’d always found impossibly sexy, the little flaw that just made you realize how sexy she truly was. And that body. Huge, natural breasts, narrow figure, impossibly long legs.
In the two years they’d lived in the same building, Matt had spent more than few
