The Bleakest of Seasons

'Maybe.'

He's getting hard again. You wonder idly if he'd be up to yet another round.

Fuck it., you decide to yourself. You cup your hand firmly around his testicles and begin gently massaging them. At the same time you open your mouth and suck him inside you. Your tongue dances around his smooth skin, and you tickle the glans under the tip of his organ. He gasps quietly.

'You are obsessed with oral sex I think.' he says, almost in the same dreamy tone of voice that you used a moment ago.

You rearrange yourself so that you can accommodate him better, but you take him out of your mouth for a moment to ask him a question.

'Is it a problem if I'm obsessed with Oral Sex?'

'Absolutely not.' He replies instantly.

You smile to yourself and get back to work.

This apology takes even longer than the last one, and your jaw and tongue are sore by the time he finally releases. He hardly has any thing left to ejaculate after his two previous climaxes, so you simply consume it with a smile on your face as you realize that he really seems to enjoy this type of release.

You think.

You suddenly also realize that he's come three times in the last hour and a half and he hasn't made a sound at all. If you hadn't had him in your mouth, or he hadn't made sure that you could see him coming, you would have had no idea.

You fall back on your haunches, stretch languidly, and raise your arms over your head. Your chest raises and expands as you stretch fully. As you relax you look at Scott to find him staring at you, an odd smile on his face.

'What?'

'Tokyo at midnight. The Pyramids. Your chest.'

'What?' You query again, genuinely confused.

'Name three things that make you really happy Alex.'

You roll your eyes at him. He's definitely a nerd. Then you remember what you want to ask him.

'Sooo... I noticed something when I was blowing you.'

'Really? Do tell.' He responds wryly. He's used to your haphazard conversational segues. He knows by now to just roll with them and enjoy them.

'I noticed that when you were coming... you were pretty quiet.'

'Oh... yeah. I'm quiet.'

'That's it? You're just some kind of... sex ninja?'

'I am. Stealthy in the night, I will... penetrate your defences and silently steal away all your orgasm. Orgasms. I don't know the plural for multiple orgasms. '

'Really.'

'They could do the same thing they do with animals. A group of orgasms could be a wave... or a crash... or an inferno. An inferno of orgasms.'

You steal his move and cock an eyebrow at him. Your hair splays messily across his thighs as you gaze up into his eyes in a sultry pose. At least you hope it's a sultry pose.

'Ok, so I grew up in a bedroom with two brothers and loud pleasure was frowned upon.'

You're pretty sure it's sultry.

'Oh.'

'Yep.'

'I liked the sex ninja part better.'

He rolls his eyes.

'I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?' He asks you.

'Absolutely.'

A moment later he leads you into the men's room, although you balk momentarily at the little stick figure on the door.

It's a fully functional change room, with lockers and a gorgeous shower, and even a bench to sit on. He grabs a couple of fresh towels from the pile, sets them outside the shower door, and then he checks supplies.

'Is Dove soap ok? And Head and Shoulders?'

'I see I've decided to sleep with a caveman. You don't have any goats milk and honey soap?'

'No.'

'A chamomile and jasmine soap?'

'Nope.'

'Perhaps a spearmint and lilac body wash?'

'Let me check.' He says dryly. He doesn't move. 'Nope.'

'Maybe you have...'

He steps out of the shower, and you notice with amazement that his manhood is bouncing off his stomach, fully erect again.

'Good heavens Scott. Are you actually sixteen?' Agape at his member that you just stimulated to release no less than three times over the last two hours.

'Nope. I just look at you naked like that... and... fuck it.'

He slides a hand behind your neck, then grips your hair firmly. He pulls you to your feet, tilts your head back and then presses his mouth down on your own. His kisses are hard, passionate, and they stir your own response. Quickly you are kissing him back with equal fervor. His free hand glides around your hip, then draws forward and slides between your legs.

You squeak a little bit as his fingers brush against you and then into you. You're still surprisingly moist from your earlier play. He hooks a finger inside you, eliciting another little gasp and then backs toward the shower, dragging you into the surprisingly hot water with him.

He straddles the bench, pulls you toward him. He locks onto your eyes and you don't have to even ask him what he wants. You move towards him, slide over the bench and take him inside you with one smooth motion.

'Ooooooh god!' You moan as he fills you completely.

He starts to buck his hips, and the motion moves him in and out of you. His hands slide under your buttocks, hold you wide open, you reciprocate by wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him tight.

You feel raw, almost bruised inside from what happened last night and this morning, you also don't care. It feels right. Almost perfect actually. There's one thing missing.

You lean forward, pulling him deep inside you again, then you wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck, shoving your breasts into his face. Automatically his mouth is hot on your flesh, teeth are nibbling and his lips are kissing and sucking.

You lean down and whisper in his ear.

'Please don't be gentle.'

You can feel him grin, then he shifts a hand up and grips your left breast firmly. A moment later you feel his mouth close on your nipple and his teeth clamp down and he drags them across the hypersensitive skin.

You arch your back and pull him in even deeper. He starts to thrust harder, and you start to literally bounce up and down as you ride him. The water sprays you both and heats you up good and hot, your skin slick with moisture and ripe with pleasure. You pant and thrust, and whip your hair around as you ride him. You catch your reflection in the glass, and for a moment you almost think you're watching an adult film.

The girl rides her man, frantically grinding herself into him as he holds her in place and pulls her teats into his hungry mouth. Their skin is pink and hot, and steam flares up around them as water pounds down onto them. Her hair flings wildly and her mouth is nearly as open as her eyes are wide as she gasps for oxygen and frantically rides her partner.

You think for a moment that you can understand why people tape themselves.

Then thought really leaves the process. Scott doubles his intensity and you start making groaning animal sounds. You stop trying to direct traffic and just take what he gives you, until you can't take any more. Suddenly your arms are wrapped around his head, and you pant into his ear with your eyes clenched shut. You feel like your skull is going to pop and your clitoris sends frantic signals that overload your brain.

He's not having any of that, a strong hand grabs your hair and pulls it painfully taut. You moan and arch your back, and he surges forward and slams your body hard into the wooden bench. You gasp for air, and then you shriek as his hand grips your breast painfully. His pelvis continues to slam into you and his penis pistons in and out of you with aggressive, almost angry motion.

You can barely breathe, you feel overwhelmed, pleasure and lust and submission and just the tiniest amount of pain rule you. You feel taken, owned, completely out of control of the situation.

'Don't... Don't...' You whine frantically.

'Don't what?' He growls, still pawing at you, thrusting into you.

'DON'T STOP!' You scream, and clutch at your own breasts, your fingernails biting into your own nipples as he impossibly seems to pick up the pace as he grins at you with gritted teeth.

There is no other way to describe this. This isn't sex. It's not dominance or submission. This isn't him ravishing you or you servicing him.

This is fucking. Raw, primal, animal fucking.

You shriek as it builds past your point of no return, and he won't stop for anything. You howl desperate, animal screams as he uses your body with abandon and you stretch and strain to let him take you as hard and as fast as he can.

An eternity passes. You both lay sprawled against the bench on the floor.

The water from the shower has turned chilly. You don't mind. You're still trying to catch your breath. Your chest is heaving, and so is his. He lays sprawled on the floor, sucking air, his head in your lap.

'What... was... that?' You pant.

'That.... That was... good.' He wheezes. He turns and plants a kiss on your tummy. You can feel his lips trembling as he touches your skin. Apparently that took as much or more out of him as it did out of you.

'Yes... but... why?' You want to know. You really want to know what triggered that, because you're definitely going to want to do that again.

'We...' He coughs, raises a hand to his mouth. You run your fingernails through his hair, gentling scratching his skull.

'We've both been... celibate for a while...'

'Yeah?'

'Now... we can... talk without .... thinking about it.'

Before you can think about it you grab his hair and yank his head back. He doesn't fight it, and actually appears to be giggling at you as you glare down at him.

'You just... fucked me .... hard enough to stop... my heart.... so that we could talk?!?!'

He giggles even harder. You try to stay annoyed, but he's cute when he laughs so a moment later you're only smiling at him.

'You... you...' The words won't come out. You don't even know what to say.

So you just lean over and kiss him on the mouth. He keeps laughing as he lies in your lap completely spent.

'Oh shut up.' You demand finally.

After about fifteen minutes, you both manage to drag yourselves up off the floor. He gets you a fluffy towel and you both dry off quickly and toss the towels in a nearby hamper. You pull your hair back and tuck it into a knot.

Both of you emerge from the bathroom after your vigorous, aggressive 'showering' and then Scott sorts through his clothes to find you a pair of athletic shorts that you can wear and a couple of t-shirts to wear in place of your shredded bra and dress. He finds a comfortable pair of track pants and deep burgundy t-shirt for himself that declares boldly that whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

You sit on the bed, exhausted, comfortable, and completely sated. He leans up against the dresser, and watches you, his hand rubbing his stomach, the muscles complaining after your frantic coupling in the shower.

'It's only 9 am. Nap?'

'That sounds fantastic.' You say honestly after three full hours of mind-blowing sex.

He saunters over to the bed and sits beside you.

'Spoon?' He asks.

You nod assent with a tiny smile. He lets you position yourself comfortably, then settles in next to you. His legs wrap around your legs, his pelvis presses against your buttocks, and his chest is warm against your back. You pull his hand over your ribcage and tuck it tightly against your chest.

'Wait.' he says and takes his hand away. You pout a little; this is interrupting nap and snuggle time.

He grabs the pillow, fluffs it, then slides it under your head.

He cuddles back in against your back, wrapping his arm around your ribcage again to cup you. He's warm, and his breath is hot as it caresses your neck.

It's almost perfect.

'Wait.' you whisper with a giggle as you wonder if now he is the one pouting. You move his hand down, then under your shirt. He chuckles quietly as you guide it directly to your breast and clasp your hand over his.

Sleep doesn't take long to claim you, especially after the night before and the very vigorous morning.

As you drift away, you feel his fingers gently tugging on your little bud.

'Perfect.' Is the last thing you think as you begin to dream.

\

You dream a little bit, nothing deep or scary. Nothing you can remember. You faintly recall it being pleasant.

But after a time, you can smell coffee, and you start to slide back towards consciousness. You gradually become aware of the soft bed you're laying in, and the warm blanket that's wrapped around you somehow.

Then you realize that his hand is missing.

That's disappointing.

You start to panic thinking he might have snuck out, but you remember a moment later that you went home to his place, and you're wearing his clothes in his bed. If he decided to one night stand you, he's got a strange strategy for it.

You sigh, then slide the warm blanket off your torso and sit up slowly, groggily.

There is coffee on; you can see the pot full of pitch black happiness in the kitchen. You sit for a moment and contemplate getting up for a cup.

And then you spy it.

The floor, the floor is strewn with flotsam from the previous evening. Your shoes lay a few feet away, next to the big metal table. Shreds of your dress lay scattered around, and what's left of your brassiere hangs forlornly off one of the wheels used to spin and adjust the angle or pitch of the huge steel beast.

His pants and shirt lay in a discarded pile, next to a clump of the leather restraints that you tossed aside this morning when he led you to the shower.

You look around for your purse, and see it on the counter. An idea strikes, so you pad over to retrieve it. Your phone flips open with a little chirp, and you gleefully snap some photos of the tattered remnants of the evening before.

It's satisfying looking at the photos. You remember him tearing through the dress and pulling your bra aside with an aggressive ferocity that you hadn't felt in... ever actually. There's where he tossed his clothing away after he'd secured you to the tabletop. That's where you kicked off your shoes. That tattered black chunk of cloth is what is left of the dress before he started to manipulate and pleasure your flesh.

You preen a little as you remember that moment when he stood back and marvelled at your body, your pale skin and dark hair and your naughty smile. And you had to coax him forward, because he was mesmerized by you for a moment.

Mmhmm.

Where has this guy been all your life? If you'd known that the most intense coupling you were ever going to have was going to come from a chubby, worn down, sarcastic, plain looking man, you would have...

Would have...

What?

Where does a man like this hang out? You never saw this kind of man when you were wandering futilely through bars looking for company and finding only pathetic, sex starved players. Nobody at work or in your social life was like this. It was like he literally was two different people. The first was a quiet, funny, modest little nerd. The second was an aggressive, hard driving, dominating man that brooked no shit from anyone.

And where was he?

You hear some faint tapping, and you spy him on the other side of the apartment. He's hunched over a laptop having a quiet conversation with someone through a Bluetooth headpiece. You watch him for a moment, unsure that this is even the same person. He's so quiet and subdued he's practically invisible. You watch him for a bit, then spy the coffee cups on the counter and realize that your mouth is beyond dry.

Quickly, you retrieve a coffee cup and pour yourself a hot cup of good morning. You lightly sweeten it with sugar, until it's the same color as your hair. You know sugar doesn't change the color of the coffee, but you like to think that your hair is sweet.

Running a hand over the tangled medusa on your head, you sigh. It's a mess. You fell asleep with it damp and now you're going to need to brush it out and braid it again.

But... back to quiet Scott, tapping away on the laptop.

You pad quietly over behind him and peer over his shoulder. He's got multiple windows open, some spilling numbers fast and other windows with command prompts that he's rapidly typing commands into.

He's focused totally on the screen, and you can hear the voice in his ear rapidly relaying information.

'I'm restarting the Sequel server now Ray. Let me know if you can ping it when it comes up.' he states calmly. You hesitate for a moment before placing a hand over his shoulder. He glances back at you and smiles, then holds a finger up to his lips as someone speaks to him via the Bluetooth again.

You smile, the last time you tried to play with him, he got angry, but he seems much less intense now. You ponder it for a second, then decide that the worst thing that will happen is that he punishes you... and you actually kind of want him too.

So you strip off the t-shirts he gave you. The air is chilly, so your nipples stiffen instantly, but that just makes them perkier and more pronounced, which is exactly what you want them to be right now. You slide up against his chair, run your hands over his shoulders and squeeze them. Gently, you massage his muscles, then lean in to gently nibble on his ear.

He sighs quietly, trying to focus on the problem.

You take that as a challenge, lean forward and drape your breasts over his head.

'Ray... just a minute. I've got to step away for five minutes, ok?'

He taps his earpiece before Ray can respond. Calmly, he turns and looks at you with his glasses sliding down his nose.

'Really? After what we did this morning?'

You smile warmly. Definitely.

He stands, reaches his hands around under your buttocks, then lifts you up. You wrap your legs around him as he carries you over to the leather table. Gently, he sets you on the tabletop, then eyes your naked chest with a smirk and leer. You jut your chest out at him and smile back.

'See anything you like sailor?'

He smiles then slides open a drawer. He produces a couple of pairs of handcuffs. You grin, feel that tingle in your loins that you get when he looks at you that way. Calmly, he locks the bracelet of the one handcuff around your wrist and then slides it behind your back. You happily slide your other wrist around to accommodate him and he locks that one in as well.

You start to breathe a little faster. You like where this is going.

Another handcuff locks around your ankle, and then he attaches the open bracelet to a hard point on the side of the table.

Is he going to secure you to the table and ruthlessly extract pleasure from you again? Is he going to spank you? (You really hope he does.) Is he going to do something else he hasn't shown you yet?

What he does is give your nipple a stiff tweak, and when you gasp, he shoves a rubber ball into your mouth. You're surprised, but you can't complain or protest because of the rubber sphere that he just jammed into you.

After he does it, his eyes harden.

Oh dear, you think, he's not happy.

He leans forward and whispers in your ear.

'What did I tell you would happen the next time you tried to take control?'

You remember what he said. He'd show you pain.

'Mmmmffgh!' You retort wittily.

'I have to get back to work for a little while. You sit here and contemplate what's going to happen next.'

'Nnrrgffghg?' You respond.

'Yes. That.' He says as he rolls his eyes and taps his Bluetooth.

'Ray? Hi, sorry about that. I had something in the oven and had to take it out. Did the Sequel server come back up? It did? Great!' He says as he wanders back to his station.

You watch him go, then realize that he intends to leave you here while he works.

The rat bastard. You glare at the back of his head as he works his arcane nerd magic over the internet.

He spends about a half an hour working with Ray while you sit chained to the table and gagged waiting for him to finish. Finally, he claps his hands together, says something about a Raid array not synchronizing properly, and then bangs out series of commands into the black window. He flips over to his monitor screen and a whole lot of red lights turn green.