Fallen Ch. 1 Pt. 2

Chapter I

Part 2

2.

She took my hands, and tugged, smiling through her hair. When I continued sitting there, she ducked her head and grinned, pulling harder. I couldn’t help but smile a little; this was an old game we used to play. She strained, as if she was really strong enough to pull me up.

When I did stand up, she almost lost her balance, but I held on, and she took a quick step back.

“Michael!” she said, putting her hands onto her hips. “Don’t DO that!” She grinned. It’s what she always did. I wondered if I’d always feel so helpless at her smile.

Turning, she led me to the bedroom. Once there, she gently pushed me down. “Sit down,” she said. I sat down on the bed.

“What, exactly, do you have planned for me?” I asked. She played with the strands of thread on her blouse where her buttons used to be.

“That depends,” she said, looking down, “on you.”

She put her hands on my shoulders, and climbed onto the bed. She straddled me, sitting on my lap. “We’ll have to see,” she said, “how it all turns out.” She leaned down and kissed me. She kissed my cheek, my ear, my neck.

I smelled her as she kissed me. Her skin smelled of the scented soap she used. But of something else there as well; the briny taste of come, and tears. I thought of the ocean, before the tide comes in: the naked sea creatures struggling on the beach. She smelled primordial to me.

“Michael,” she breathed, “Be gentle with me.”

I felt the cold links of Maria’s chain slip down along my skin.

“Maria-” I called out. I couldn’t breathe.

“No,” she said, “Don’t stop.” She hugged me to her chest. “Don’t ever stop,” she pleaded. I fell back, and she fell with me. Her breasts pressed into my chest. She rubbed her lips against my neck. “Don’t ever stop,” she whispered. She pressed herself down on me. I felt the wetness of her panties.

I inhaled, and let it out. I ran my fingers through her hair.

She pushed up. She ducked her head, and took off her chain. Looking down, she pulled apart her remaining buttons on her blouse, stopping at her belly.

I took my eyes off hers and let them fall; to her shining lips, her smudged chin, her sculpted neck, her pale white breasts. Her gaze followed mine. The dying light of the setting sun came through our bedroom window, setting off the rubies in her engagement band.

“Michael,” she said, “Finish me.”

I sat up and reached between her fingers and pulled apart the remaining button. She twisted her arms behind her, to let it slip off her wrists down to the floor. She studied me. She wrapped her fingers in my hair and pulled me close, leaning forward.

“Kiss me here,” she said. She arched her back at me. I took her nipple in my mouth, kissing it, and sucking. “I like it when you do that,” she sighed. I kissed her other breast, exhaling, and felt it harden against my tongue. “Oh-” she said. I sucked, nibbling, and felt her fingers pulling at my hair. She pulled her nipple out of my mouth. It made a soft, wet sucking sound. She twisted, at her shoulders, rubbing it on my face and mouth. I looked up and saw the sly smile playing on her lips. Her movements slowed, and I caught it in my mouth, and this time also with my teeth. “Oh-” she said. After a moment, she began to try to move again, to pull her nipple out. I bit. “Oh!” she said. I felt her fingers clinching in my hair. She arched her back, trembling. “Oh Michael. . .!” I pressed down a little more, and then released her. Her breath was rasping in her mouth.

“Thank you, Michael.” She began to rock her hips against me, pressing down. “I like this,” she said. “So much.” Her skirt tore along her hips. I leaned back. Her panties made a squishing noise as she rubbed them up against me.

“Wait,” I asked.

She looked down at me, and then down between us, and then she brought her knees together, making space. She reached into her skirt, into the tear, and found me. She brought me up, and rubbed me, rubbed my cock against her pantied cunt.

“Is this what you want?” she asked. I groaned, nodding yes.

She stretched her panties to the side, and then leaned down, pressing my cock against her slick wet cunt.

“Michael, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you hard.”

I groaned. I’d never heard her use that word before. I watched her lick her lips, preparing to impale herself on me. I pushed up, arching, trying to get inside her cunt. I felt my cock slip off her slick wet hole and I started coming. “Oh, God,” I moaned, eyes closed, as I sprayed my come into her pussy hair.

She continued stroking me until I was done.

After a moment, I felt her climbing off of me. My cock slipped out of her hand. “Maria-”

“It’s ok,” she said. I watched as she wiped her hand against her skirt. She leaned down. “I don’t mind,” she said. I felt her hot breath against my face.

I swallowed, reaching out. “Maria-”

“No,” she said, “Don’t talk.”

She leaned against the headboard, sitting up.

I watched her chest rise and fall. She was breathing through her mouth. Her face, and neck, and breasts were flushed.

“Maria,” I said, reaching out again. She blocked my hand.

“No,” she said, “Not like that.” I dropped my hand. “I mean,” she said, “I don’t want to – like that.”

I listened while her breathing slowly eased. She touched my head. The ceiling fan above our heads turned slowly. A grit of dust and grime had built up along the flat edges of the blades. I felt her fingers in my hair.

“Maria-”

“Michael,” she interrupted, “You believe me don’t you?”

I inhaled and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to think about it. A mental picture emerged before my eyelids: her, kneeling before another man.

I swallowed, gasping. “Maria.”

I felt her getting up off of the bed.

“Maria!”

I turned, and watched her naked back recede.

“Maria, how long?” I asked.

She paused in the doorway, glancing back. “Not long,” she said. She closed the bathroom door. I lay there for a minute, feeling tense and weary.

I got up and pounded on the door. “Maria, tell me!” She turned off the water in the bathroom sink. I heard her footsteps on the floor.

“Go away,” she said softly. I pounded my fist again, causing the door to shudder. I heard her catch her breath. “Go away,” she repeated. I stared at my clenched fist.

I slowly put it down. “Maria, come out,” I said.

Suddenly the door swung open. She was standing there, her skirt and panties on the floor.

“Do you think this is easy?” she asked. She was crying again. “Do you think this is easy for me?” She stared at me a minute, panting, eyes wide. “It’s NOT.” She slammed the door shut again. This time I heard it lock. I heard her toothbrush wrapping on the sink, and then the shower faucet coming on.

I turned, and went, and sat back on the bed. While I listened to the shower, I dressed, and watched, as the last light faded from the room.

When she came out, it was dark, except the light coming from the bathroom. Her hair was wet, and dripping. She was wrapped up in a towel. She adjusted it, pulling down on the lower hem, like it was an extremely short dress that she was wearing.

She did not look at me. She gazed across the room, at the window. I could see her reflection there. “Michael,” she said. “I’m sorry, for what I said before.” I sat silently. “I didn’t mean it. I want you to know-” She paused, swallowing. “Everything.”

She turned, facing me. “Michael, do you love me?”

I looked down. “Maria, don’t ask me that.” She came over, standing over me. I watched drops of water falling to the floor.

She touched my chin, and gently turned my face up. Her towel was too short to cover her. Beads of water stood out against her chest. Her dark-looking hair clung wetly to her neck, and trailed down around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, but I could not see into them. “Michael?”

I inhaled, and held in my breath. “Maria,” I said, “Don’t ask me that.” She started to turn away, but I caught her by her towel. “Maria,” I said. She turned. “Maria-” I looked up at her. “Nothing could ever change that.”

She smiled as she caught my face in her hands, and kissed me. She kissed my lips.

After a moment, she stepped back, looking down. “Michael,” she asked, “Is there any way?” She fingered the towel, where it crossed her breasts.

I thought there was. I caught the towel where it crossed her thighs and pulled her closer.

“I’m so glad,” she said. She kneeled on the bed, spreading her thighs across my lap. “Michael,” she whispered in my ear, “I was thinking about it – about you – in the shower.” She kissed me, nibbling on my ear. “I touched myself,” she said, “in there.” She pressed down with her teeth. “I’m really, really wet,” she said. “Would you do something for me?”

She had me lay back. She gripped the headboard, crouching over me. I saw she’d put back on her necklace. “Michael, make me come,” she asked, looking down at me. She pulled off her towel and threw it off the bed.

The hair between her legs was wet; it smelled of soap, and of her pussy. But I didn’t taste the smell of come that I had left there.

I searched her out, searching with my tongue, until I found her little nub of skin. I touched it with my tongue, licking it. I blew a little puff of air. “Oh-” she cried out. I felt her adjusting herself against my jaw, pressing it up, and in.

I licked my already wet lips, and sealed them around her, sucking down. “Oh, yes,” she cried, “Oh suck me, suck!” She rocked herself back, like she was fucking me.

I teased her, rubbing the soft underside of my tongue against the swollen nub. “Oh God,” she cried, “Keep doing that. . .!”

She pressed down, pressing my teeth into her soft flesh. “Oh God,” she moaned, “Suck, oh please suck.”

I sucked, rubbing with my tongue. She began to come, crying out. My jaw ached from the pressure of her cunt pushing down. My chin was pushed up inside of her. Her juices seeped slowly down my cheeks. She let out a long, high-pitched whine, unlike anything, quite, that I’d heard from her before.

I was suffocating; I could not breathe. But I waited; I waited for her to finish.

“Ah. . . ah. . . ah. . .” she moaned, shoving down. Finally I released her, and she rolled off of me. Drops of sweat stood out against her forehead, mingling with the water from the shower. “Oh, God,” she breathed, “Oh God.” She held my hand. She reached out and took my hand. “Thank you.”

After a moment, she looked over. “Michael,” she said, “I didn’t know.” She was smiling. She crouched over me, and lowered herself down. It hardly took a moment; she was so slick and wet inside.

She fucked me slowly, looking down. “Do you like this?” she asked. I groaned “yes,” and briefly closed my eyes. I started coming when she leaned down, her lips touching mine. I thought that she was coming too.

Maria is small inside; she cries out if I press too hard. This time I came against the very bottom of her, while she moaned against my mouth.