Fight Club Ch. 01

She was short enough that I could sink two fingers into her pussy and use her flooded sex as another grip to pull her further onto me. She squirmed and writhed under my hands, letting go of the hand that held her hair to add to the grip on the sofa, pushing and pulling along with every thrust. When I pulled my fingers out of her she tried to follow after them with her hips until I found the crinkled rim of her ass. She tried to pull herself away from my fingers but her throat was only so deep before my balls touched her chin. The little fighter had nowhere to go and when the first knuckle popped past her impossibly virgin sphincter the moan that resonated through her almost cost me my load.

I kept pushing deeper from both ends and she kept swallowing. Her throat worked around my member as her ass clenched around my finger. As soon as the second knuckle vanished, the rest of my hand rested on her pussy and she couldn't handle it. She screamed out her orgasm muffled around me as her back spasmed up and down like a cat with its hackles up. My cock slipped out of her mouth as she continued to pant through the aftershocks, climbing the rest of the way over the island and curling up on the couch. I didn't spoil the moment talking about pussy juice on purple cotton. She reached for me when I walked away.

The kitchen was still a mess. The sink was almost overflowing; green chunks of hulk littered the floor like gamma shrapnel, and $1300 worth of assorted cookware lay scuffed and dented at the scene of the crime. In the closet, where she hid, was a broom and dustpan. I was going to make her clean up before anything else but on the floor, next to the garbage bags and mop bucket, was a green bag. A messenger bag, olive drab like WWII uniforms, covered with Rancid and BioHazard patches, an Elvis pin, and a bright red mouth from Rocky Horror. Roxie's bag. How long had she been in there?

She was still breathing heavy, safe on the couch when I picked it up. Heavier than I thought, I looked inside. Cigarettes, cell, a nice digital camera, and at the bottom, still in the box, was the kind of small pink vibrator they sell in novelty stores. Even the price tag on the side said it was from the mall. Hardcore little Roxie didn't go to the place with strippers and real toys? "You want a smoke?"