Mercy

byLucy1970Harker©

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd. It droppeth as gentle rain from heaven." - Shakespeare

*

It was early evening when she walked into the bar. He had not expected to see her.

"Can I talk to you for a second," she said.

"Sure," he said.

She led him away from the crowded bar area and to an isolated table.

"You're my friend, right?" she asked.

"Of course," he said.

"And if I needed you to do something for me, you'd do it?" she said.

"If you needed help, I'd do my best to help you. Is that what you're asking? Are you planning on robbing a bank or something?" he said.

"I am not planning on robbing a bank," she said.

"I just was hoping you could show me some mercy. That's what I need tonight," she said.

"Mercy?" he said. "Well, now I'm intrigued. How so?" he said.

She sat closer to him.

"I need you to give me tonight. One night. I can't take it anymore," she said.

He didn't say anything.

"My body is so hot for you it is boiling my brain. I can't think straight. I can't sleep. I'm shaking sitting this close to you," she took his hand and pressed it to her chest.

"Feel my heart," she said. It was beating. Beating fast. She held his hand. "I don't care what you think of me for telling you this. You win whatever game this is. I'm out of my league. I just need you to have mercy on me. Just this once. Please," she said.

And she waited.

"You're right. I am your friend. And because of that, I can't," he said.

"You think this is what you want. But tomorrow, this moment will have passed, and you'll be glad I said no tonight," he said. She pushed his hand away.

"It never passes. Do you think it was easy for me to come here and ask you for this? If it passed, I wouldn't have gotten to this point," she said.

"Seriously, if you won't do this tonight, I'll find someone else here who will. I don't care anymore," she said. "No, you will not. Go home. Get some sleep and you'll feel better," he said.

"Did you not hear me before? I can't sleep. I can't sleep because all I can think about is you fucking me," she said.

He paused for a second. Then he moved to get up and pulled her up with him. "Come on, I'll walk you out to your car," he said.

They walked outside and when they got to her car, he went to hug her goodbye.

He got his arms around her but she pushed back. "Don't. I can't take it. Don't touch me," she said.

"Come on," he said.

"I am not kidding. I can't take it right now. Screw it. I'm going back in the bar," she said.

He gave up as she went back in. He went back to his friends and kept half an eye on her playing a song on the jukebox. He saw a guy go over and start talking to her. It looked like he was asking if she was all right.

He looked away and was distracted for a while. He forgot about her until he looked over again and saw she was now sitting on the guy's lap at a table near the jukebox.

She had a beer in her hand and was talking to the guy intently. He had his hand on her knee. He started to get a little worried that she was serious about her previous threat.

It was when it looked like she was leaving the bar with the guy that he was sure she was serious. And he was just as serious about not letting that happen.

"Hey. What the hell are you thinking?" he said, stopping her at the door. The guy tried to say something. And he put his hand up. "Don't fucking try it," he said, with barely a glance in his direction. The guy backed off.

"I told you what I was thinking," she said. "Let's go," he said, taking her keys, pulling her out the door and leaving the guy to stand there. Confused.

"You're fucking pissing me off now," he said.

"I'm taking you home and I'll figure out how to get back. But I'm not going to sit there and watch you do this to yourself," he said.

She was quiet as he put her in the passenger seat and started the car. She was smiling slightly.

"You think this is funny? You were making a spectacle of yourself in there. If you don't care about that, I do," he said.

He started to drive down the road and she took his hand. He tried to pull it back.

"Don't," she said quietly.

"I thought you couldn't touch me," he said.

"I can't," she said.

"Don't you wonder about it?" she said.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't you wonder what it would be like to fuck someone as consumed with you as I am? What it would do to me? You realize you touching my elbow drives me insane. Imagine if you touched me anywhere else?" she asked.

She still had his hand. She pressed it to her face.

He didn't pull away.

He was watching the road.

She took his hand and moved into the open neckline of her shirt, sliding it under and over her breast, and he could feel her nipple hard under his hand.

"See..." she said, leaning her head back.

He pulled away.

"Stop," he said.

"I can't. I really can't," she said, taking his hand back, moving it under her shirt again. "Feel how hard my nipples are? Touch me. See what happens," she said.

She moved closer to him in the car.

He couldn't help it. He had to touch her. Her mouth was at his ear now. Whispering. "That's right," she whispered. She felt his hand move around her breast. She felt warm. Her heart was in her throat. She felt his fingers moving, searching, finding her nipple and squeezing it gently.

Her brain went white. It went white with no thoughts other than knowing his fingers were on her. Working her nipple. Nothing else was there. She felt her pussy ache, beat with it. He could feel her breathing faster on his neck, whispering things that weren't really words. She was hot. So hot. He could feel it. She was ready. She took his hand away.

"Don't you wonder what it sounds like when I whisper your name," she whispered.

"I have the best dream about you trying to get your hands under my skirt. Usually I'm driving. But the dream is just you trying to do that and me pushing you away. And it drives me crazy," she said.

She moved his hand down to her skirt. Under it. On her thigh. Higher.

"Just in case you don't believe what you do to me. Feel it. Touch me," she said. She left his hand on her thigh for him to do what he wanted. He knew he should pull away. But feeling her arm around his neck. Her other hand squeezing his leg.

Feeling her breathing against him. He had to find her. Feel her. He moved his hand, his fingers further along her thigh, up, pushing them between her legs. Finding her pussy, because of course she wasn't wearing anything under her skirt.

And when he found her, he almost drove off the side of the road. She was so hot, and so drenched and dripping wet. He couldn't believe how wet she was.

"That's it....you see now," she whispered.

And he did. He felt it. She licked his lips and he hit the gas. If he didn't get there soon he was going to have to pull over.

But his fingers didn't stop. She sighed in his ear as he opened her, softly, feeling her warm and wet, and she moved back now toward her own side of the car, leaning back in the seat, moving her knees up, opening her legs more to him. And it was so good.

He didn't do much. Just traced her with his fingers. Finding her clit and teasing it. Her sighs got a little louder. Her eyes were closed. She bit her lower lip.

Her hand held onto his leg still and he could feel her squeezing it. And then she felt him stop touching her. And stop the car.

"We're here," he said. She hadn't even realized what was going on outside the car. He got out of the driver's side and opened her door for her to get out the passenger side. Her knees were weak. She couldn't look at him. She was too afraid of what was going to happen next."I should go," he said.

Which was exactly what she was afraid he was going to say. And she fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around his."No. Please," she said.

He pulled her off the ground and back up to him. He lifted her face to his. "I said I should. I didn't say I was going to," he said, with a faint smile. She touched his face and his arms moved to her lower back. This was it. As she knew he was about to kiss her, she reminded herself to commit every second to memory. Every second. Every sense. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. The color of the evening sky behind him. What his eyes looked like. The sounds of the last remaining birds going to sleep.

But especially his eyes. The look in his eyes, just before he leaned toward her, pulling her to him to meet her mouth with his.

She closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking as they met behind his neck. He softly kissed her mouth as her hands moved into his hair. He leaned her back against the car, kissing her harder, and her mouth opened slightly as her tongue sought his.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders as his tongue moved strong and deep into her mouth, her tongue twisting with his, and the kiss became more tongue, less lips. His hands dug into her back, and he unconsciously bent her back more, and she was holding onto his neck tightly, moving her mouth away and back, finding his tongue again, and again.

She was completely out of breath. She felt he was too. She stopped. Pulled away. Covered her face with her hands. He pulled them away and took her hand and led her into the house and upstairs. They sat on her bed.

"So I'm here," he said.

"What do you really want?" he said.

"What do I want?" she said.

"I want these," she put her hands over his. "Everywhere," she said.She touched his mouth, leaned in to open it with her tongue."I want this," she whispered into his mouth."Everywhere," she said.

She ran her hands up his legs until she found him hard, through his pants, and held him there.

"I want this..." she said."Careful on that one...," he said, smiling.

She laughed.She moved her hands to the buttons of his white shirt."I love this shirt," she said.

"I know you do," he said.He pulled her shirt over her head. He stood up and started to unbutton his shirt. She pulled off her skirt and watched him. It was dark but the room was half lit with moonlight.

He pulled his shirt off.

"Come here," he said.

There was a mirror on the wall. He pulled her to him and turned her to the mirror, pulling her in front of him. He held the shirt behind her, so she could put it on, and she did, one arm at a time, watching in the mirror. She closed her eyes feeling it on her naked skin, pulling it around her."You want to wear this," he said."How did you know that?" she said.

"I know," he said.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, looking at her in the mirror."It looks good on you," he said. He moved his hands over her, finding her nipples through the shirt, and she sucked in her breath quickly.

"It looks better on you," she said."Well, of course," he said. She laughed.He turned her around and moved her to the bed, kissing her. Feeling her body under the shirt, over the shirt, and wearing it only added to her brain overload.Lying on the bed now, she moved her hand to the button of his pants as his tongue moved in her mouth and his fingers teased her everywhere.He put his hand on hers. "Wait," he said."You are sure you want to do this?" he said."Are you fucking kidding me?" she said.

"Well, then you have to do something for me first," he said."Anything you want," she said.

"You have to promise to never ask me for mercy again," he said. His voice was serious.

"Because this.." he said, and leaned in to not kiss her, but actually fuck her mouth with his tongue, pushing it into her mouth as far as he could, and she could not breathe. He pulled away and she tried to get it back. But he pushed her back.

"This is NOT mercy," he said."And this....," he said, moving his mouth down to take her nipple, through the shirt, in his teeth, holding it there, sucking it through his shirt that she lusted after him in, his tongue teasing her nipple through the shirt, rough and wet, and her eyes fluttered. She tightened her fingers in his hair. He pulled away.

"This is not mercy," he said.

"And this...," he whispered, finding her pussy with his fingers, moving to finally open her, sliding one, then two fingers inside her, finding her hot, finding her wet, and she arched her back on the bed, moaning, as he moved, sliding them in and out of her, seeing she was about to come.

"Not yet," he said, pulling his hand away."That is not mercy," he said."And lastly, this..." he took her hand and moved it to feel his hard dick again.

"Is pretty much the opposite of mercy. I'm warning you," he said.She was lost in it now, lost in what he was saying, what she was feeling, her orgasm was on the edge, blistering in her middle, starting to ripple out and she had no way to stop it."Look at me," he said.He took her face in his hand, pulling almost roughly to look at him. He knew she was struggling to focus. It was hot. He was about to let her go.

"Look at me. Listen to me. Are you listening?" he asked. He kissed her another hot, wet time.Her eyes were glazed over but she nodded at him.

"Don't ask me for mercy," he said, kissing her again."Mercy is fucking not me," he said. She reached for the button of his pants again and this time he let her. He was ready. She got them off and found his dick with her hands.

"I want this," she whispered.

"Oh yeah?" he said. He was so hard.She turned him onto his back and deliriously worked her mouth down his body, finding his nipples with her tongue, working his mouth with hers, moving it down to swallow him without hesitation into her mouth.

She moaned with the feeling of him down her throat. Her tongue worked him, sucking him, licking his balls, stroking him with her hand up and down, unable to get enough, sucking him, swallowing him, and he closed his eyes. It felt so fucking good.

Her face was amazing to watch, her eyes closed, her breathing quickly when she pulled off to lick him everywhere, swallowing him again, she might have been enjoying it more than he was. And that was a lot. She was getting him close. But he knew he hadn't made her come yet. He wanted to. She'd been aching for that now for a while. Longer than tonight. Longer than a week. Longer than was probably fair, when he really thought about it. But he could fix that.Fix it now.He pulled her off and turned her on her back, although she fought him on it.He held her hands over her head.

"Remember in the car when you asked if I wanted to hear you say my name," he asked.She nodded. She couldn't talk."I do," he said, tracing his hand down her belly, to find her pussy again with his fingers, keeping his lips close to hers, kissing her gently, opening her, and quickly, sliding his fingers deeply inside her and swallowing and tasting her sighs into his mouth.

Her nonsense words again.

Her soft moans."Say my name," he whispered. She was trying to find words now, as he slid his fingers into her, so wet, so hot, faster, and she could feel his hard dick against her, she was getting wetter, and she was almost there."Harder, oh yeah, faster, almost," she whispered."Say it," he said."Oh...," she said.

Then she said his name in such a way. Such a way that he knew she had dozens of times before. Just like that, and he went as hard, as fast as he could without hurting her, and she came. She came so hard that she almost screamed. Almost. She dug her nails into his back and he knew she cut into it but he wanted her to.

And once she started, she couldn't stop. It was amazing to watch. So easy. So hot. Over and over. He pulled his fingers out and moved his body down between her legs and lifted her wet pussy to his mouth, burying his tongue in it. He wanted to really send her over the edge.And he did. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe.

Her voice was going from sighing, moaning, trying to catch her breath. She couldn't take it. His tongue moved into her pussy, and he slid his fingers into her again as his tongue worked her clit and then she found her scream."Stop," she said."I can't take anymore, stop," she said, pulling him up to kiss her again. "You're not asking me for mercy...are you?" he said, smiling.

"No! no...I just ..I can't," she tried to make sense but couldn't find more than four words to come up with."Good," he said, and before she had time to get her head together, he lifted her hips, teased her wet pussy with his hard dick for only a second before sliding it into her, as hard and as far as it could go.

Her breath was gone. Taken away. Her back arched. Her body shook. Her eyes rolled. Her hands were in tight fists. She was somewhere else. For that moment.

And he did not let up. He fucked her slowly at first, but he found he couldn't keep that pace. It was too hot. Too wet. Too tight. Too good. He had to go faster. Holding onto her hips, he rocked her body on the bed, harder. Faster.She watched him now, her eyes were open. She found her way back to logical thought so she could feel it, know it. Know he was fucking her.

"Oh yeah. That's what I want," she whispered. "More. Harder. Faster. Hurt me," she whispered.And he did all of those things. Harder. Fucking her faster.He moved off the bed, and pulled her hips to the edge, giving him a better edge to fuck her faster, harder and he watched her eyes, rolling, biting her lip, the tension was building, building.

She was there. He saw it. "Come on," he said. And he said her name.

"Don't!" she said.She couldn't take it. He stopped for a second.

"What's wrong? You don't like when I say your name?" he said. And he said it again."You don't like when I say your name when I'm fucking you?" he said.

"Oh god," she said.That was it -- the tension had hit the high and was rolling down rapidly toward the break.

He fucked her again, and she thrashed on the bed, turning, running her hands in her hair, whispering, moaning, saying his name and he knew that was it for him, and the last few thrusts were as hard and as fast as he could until they both came.

And the room was quiet other than her catching her breath. She sat on the edge of the bed and he moved to his knees on the floor with his head against her belly and his arms around her waist.

She looked in the mirror at the mess of crazy hair and smile that she had become and he did not want to admit how fast his heart was beating.

And he did not say the only word that came to his mind.

Mercy.

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