82 Nights with Christine Pt. 02

"Cum for me. Cum for me. Cum for me," she demanded over and over again like a perverted mantra. And I did, longer and harder than ever before.

Finally, we stilled -- it was done. As some glimmers of my sanity began to return, she found her remote control and the plug unceremoniously switched off. We were both panting now, Christy lazily leaning into my back, her left hand still in control of my dick, holding it. From time to time she'd plant a delicate kiss on my neck; I heard her mutter, "Good boy... my good, honest boy..."

We stayed like that for a couple minutes, too spent to do anything else, and too sated to care. At last she said, almost as an afterthought: "So, was there anything you wanted to ask me?"

I thought for a second and meekly blurted out the only question that came to mind: "Will it hurt?"

"Oh, sweetie... only at first. I'll take care of you, I promise."

"Thank you, Christine," I mumbled automatically, gratefully. I thought to ask one last question before we got up off the lounge. "When?"

"Hmm. Tomorrow, I think. If you ask me nicely."

I just nodded and said "ok," too drained to think or say anything more.

And now it's tomorrow. Christy had to go in to work today, but she said she'd only stay till around noon. And it's 12:30 now. Gulp. It would be wrong to say I'm scared... but it would be right to say I'm agitated. Fidgety. Out of sorts. I think I'm still looking forward to it, but I'm a total mess. Thank god for this journal, which at least gives me something to do while I wait. And maybe it can even help me make sense of some of the things that are going on in my life.

Oh shit. That's her key in the door. Oh man.

Gotta go.

July 26 - Sunday

I didn't know what to expect from Christy when she got home yesterday. I mean, I'd prepared myself both mentally and physically for the possibility that she'd just tear off my clothes and pin me down on the floor as soon as she walked through the door -- in fact I think that's what I was hoping for, just to rip off the band-aid -- but I also felt like she might want to play with her food before eating.

When she came in I was writing my last journal entry; I saved and closed it before she could see -- she's already so deep into my head without her knowing there's a roadmap for her to read just sitting there on my hard drive. I stood to greet her, watched her round the corner, and when I saw her face my first instinct told me that she really was going throw me down on the table and have her way with me with no preamble. The look on her face wasn't playful. She looked determined, resolute. Just raw animal hunger, and she was marching right at me -- I, on the other hand, was rooted to the spot. Cowed.

When she got to me, with no hesitation, she reached up with both hands and pulled my face up to hers and kissed me, forcefully. I remember not knowing what to do with my hands at first, and I held them out to my sides for a beat until it occurred to me to wrap them around Christy. Her own hands gradually found their way down my back and onto my rear, where they squeezed and pulled me forward, onto the hardening lump I could feel pressing into me; I moaned into her mouth. I got lost in that kiss so quickly and so completely, and all that apprehension I'd been feeling was transformed into longing. It had taken her all of 30 seconds.

When the kiss finally broke, Christy pulled back a little, her arms still gripping me. I met her stare for a few seconds, but I couldn't bear to hold it -- how can someone make me feel so safe and so intimidated at the same time? It makes no sense. Anyway, I glanced down at the floor and asked a stupid question.

"Hey. Is it... I mean, are we going to the bedroom now?"

She paused briefly, still looking at my face, and just said: "I don't think it'll take very long. Go get comfortable, I'll be right back."

She disappeared down the hall while I retreated to the living room and pretended to watch television. When she came out a few minutes later I saw she'd kept it simple, but also devastatingly sexy: she wore a tight gray t-shirt, skimpy pink panties bulging lewdly in the front, and nothing else. Honestly, she always looks incredible, but for those few seconds, watching this goddess walk up to me with barely anything on... maybe it was just the situation, but I wanted her more than I ever had before. And that's a lot.

She saw me watching, saw the look on my face, and gave a knowing smile. She flopped down beside me on the lounge, wrapped her arm around my shoulder... and turned to look at the TV.

"So, what are we watching?"

"Uh... I don't know, this was just on."

What an absurd exchange -- didn't she know my whole world was on fire? Wasn't this a big deal to her? Whatever the case, she did the most unbelievable thing possible to me when she picked up the TV remote and started flipping channels. Actually paying attention to the screen, it looked like. The hand that was wrapped around me would occasionally rub my arm or twirl a finger around my ear, but absently, like her focus was elsewhere. And other than that she was almost ignoring me.

I didn't get it. I do now, but at the time it was bewildering. Five minutes passed, then ten, and I could hardly take it. After everything that had happened the last few days -- hell, everything that's happened the last two months -- I was wound up past my breaking point. I needed her attention. I needed for her to tend to me. Being on the edge like this was killing me and I needed her to push me over it by doing the thing she'd told me, over and over, was inevitable.

I couldn't form a conscious plan for what to do, but some Darwinian impulse inside me kicked in and I knew I had to do something, anything, to entice this mate. So, I leaned into her body and rested my head on her shoulder; I sighed; I nuzzled her neck with the top of my head; I held her hand in mine while lightly stroking it with my thumb. Christy held me a little tighter, but otherwise none of that got a response.

So, I planted a kiss on her shoulder; I softly moaned; I caressed the back of her neck; I told her how beautiful she looked today ("Thanks, sweetie; you too"); I kissed her neck, and then I did it again. It was a shameless display... and, worse than that, it wasn't working. Somehow I never considered backing off and waiting for her to say when -- at this point, I just wanted what I'd been promised.

After another minute or two, I rested my hand on her naked thigh, then slowly crept it upwards, describing little circles with my finger as it travelled. God, she smelled so good. When my hand reached the very top of her inner thigh I started brazenly rubbing and groping -- my hand felt a twitch, and Christy at last rewarded me with an approving little hum... but nothing more. Body language and touch simply weren't working; short of ripping of her panties and dragging her by her cock to the bedroom, I was down to one lost option.

"Christy?"

"What is it, babe?" She turned her head to me, and I could see she was having a good time, trying to keep a straight face -- she understood the situation, but she wasn't going to help me over the finish line.

"Maybe... can we go hang out in the bedroom?"

"Why, what's in the bedroom, sweetie?" Keeping up the act, but I could see the glee behind her eyes. She was so, so close, and she knew it.

"'What's in the bedroom?' Well, we are, if you'll come with me. I... I want you."

"Aw, that's sweet. But what do you mean? What, exactly, do you want?"

Another playful, wolfish grin, her eyes alive with the thrill of her impending victory. She would make me say it, and I could tell that no polite euphemisms would be accepted. I could hear my heart thumping away, sending a rush of crimson blood up to my face. I swallowed hard.

"I want you... to... I want you to fuck me, Christine. I need it."

"Mmmm, that does sound nice... but is that how you ask a lady something like that?"

"... please." The word came out in a whisper, but apparently it was enough: the irony fell from her smile, and she gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"See? Didn't I say you'd be begging for it?" I could only nod. "Come on." She stood up, reached out for me, then led me by the hand to bed. But, not hers -- she led us right past her room and into my mother's. "Bigger bed," she explained. On the nightstand was her trusty bottle of lube, ready to go.

We stood in the middle of the room, regarding each other, not moving or speaking. As casual and as confident as Christine acted, this was a big moment. I could see a hundred little emotions playing across her face, most of them having to do with lust & excitement, but there was a hint of unease in there as well. I mean, my god, of course there was: she calls the shots around here with such uncanny assuredness, so it's easy to forget that she was a total virgin about a month ago. For the briefest moment, I thought I could see that mousy, frightened kid we picked up from the airport at the start of the summer. It was a little jarring, a reminder of how much has changed for her -- for us -- in such a short time.

But it didn't last long. The doubt in her eyes vanished, replaced by an eager grin as she looked my body up and down. Without warning, she whipped off her t-shirt and her breasts came into view -- god, I spend so much time obsessing over her cock (and her balls... and her cum... and her voice in my ear) that I sometimes forget to appreciate how perfect they are. She watched me watching her for a few seconds, then said, "Your turn. Strip for me, baby."

I nodded and forced myself not to be too self-conscious -- it helped that she was watching me so hungrily, letting me know she liked what she saw. A few seconds later I was naked in front of her; Christy gave me one more leering stare, then took three steps forward to stand directly in front of me; the excitement radiating off of her was contagious. She looked down at her body and my gaze followed hers. I saw her run her finger slowly over the waistband of her panties, and I knew what she was asking: I dropped to my knees for her.

I took hold of her underwear and started to slowly pull it down. As I did, I realized I'd been holding my breath in anticipation -- as soon as I inhaled, I got hit with that scent, her scent, the one that makes my dick jump and my heart flutter in Pavlovian zeal, every single time. She stepped out of her panties and I was an inch away from her throbbing member -- hard, warm, and leaky, just like it is in my dreams. My head lurched forward to collect the smear of precum around the tip with my mouth.

Before I could do any more than that, Christy backed up a few paces and sat on the edge of the bed facing me, her cock bobbing invitingly. I waited for her to tell me to move, which she did: "Come here, sweetie." From where I was, on my knees just six feet away, it made no sense to stand up... so I crawled to her. Christy drew in a sharp breath and her eyes lit up at the sight; that wasn't what I had in mind, but I was glad she enjoyed it.

"Wanna taste?" she said when I reached her. As if she had to ask. I nodded solemnly and claimed my gift. I started slow -- a kiss to her head, long licks along the underside, popping it into my mouth to suck up a new bead of precum. Then, on instinct, I sped up. I was sucking with real vigor, twisting my hand around her shaft, and doing all the things I know she likes. Of course, Christy had to stop me.

"Whoa! Easy there, tiger. That feels amazing, but we're not here to fill your mouth, are we?" Oh, right. I hummed out an mm-hmm around her cock, then backed off. I wasn't entirely sure I could trust myself with the tip of her leaky rod, so I made my way south and lavished attention on her balls. Mmmmm. The taste, the aroma, the feel, the faint tanginess... it's still a mystery to me as to why I like that so much. Maybe it's psychological? Pheromones? I don't really care. Whatever the case, I was applying my art with gusto, and Christy appreciated it.

"Ohhh, see, that's nice. Do a good job, Noah... help them brew up a nice big load for you..."

Oh, Jesus, that's right: somehow I'd never really thought about where Christy's spunk would no doubt wind up at the end of our evening. A fresh tinge of both angst and exhilaration shot through me at the prospect. I knew I wouldn't be asking her to pull out --and, if I did, would she even listen? No, Christine would be filling me, breeding me, with one of her galactically huge loads tonight. A shiver ran through my body when I realized it.

But while I was still trying to wrap my head around that idea, Christine decided the time for foreplay was over. My tongue was still on her balls when she stood up and smiled down at me. "Give me your hand," she said, so I did. She pulled me to my feet. She stopped to kiss me -- softly, almost mournfully. Then she turned us around so the bed was behind me and gave a push so I fell on my back, my ass facing the edge.

I looked up at her, and as long as I live I will never forget that image. Lying on my back, gazing up at Christine standing over me, in between my legs. From where I lay the ceiling light was directly behind her, its soft glow creating an honest-to-god halo around her head -- she looked like nothing so much as a literal goddess, standing there in my mother's bedroom, surveying every inch of my body eagerly, gleefully, possessively. Intense focus was written all over her face, along with wonder and a hint affection. As for me, I was simply in awe.

She locked eyes with me, smiled, and reached down to caress my cheek; her thumb found my lips, which parted automatically to accept it inside, and lightly suckle. Christy's smile widened at that, but a moment later her hand withdrew and she went back to looking me over top-to-bottom, reaching her hand all over to stroke, and grab, and pinch.

I could do nothing except watch and wait, and as I did I saw Christy transform in front of me. It was gradual, but unmistakable: her breathing got heavier until she was audibly panting; her movements became more forceful and energetic; her eyes lost their soft edges and became frenzied; her pupils dilated. She muttered, very much to herself, "fuck yes." It's like I was watching the most primal part of her genetic programming come online for the first time.

Christy's hand was around her shaft now, slowly pumping up and down as she reveled in her pure lust. She looked down at her cock, held it by the base, then flung it down repeatedly, bashing it into mine three times in quick succession -- the motion sent steaming drops of her copious precum flying onto my stomach. Fuck. Maybe it was some sort of dominance display; maybe she was just playing around. And maybe it didn't matter which, because it was viscerally intimidating. She was just so goddamned long, and thick, and hard, and heavy, thudding down onto my semi-erect dick so there was no mistaking the difference between us. I muttered involuntarily: "jesus..."

"Heh, I know, right? But don't you worry." She leaned down and kissed me again, much harder this time, pressing my head down into the mattress; I felt her hard cock grinding on top of mine, bossing it around once more... and as she did and a fresh jolt of lust shot through me. She broke the kiss and looked at me with her forehead resting on mine.

"Are you ready for me, Noah?"

"Y-yes. God yes. Should I... turn over?"

"Oh no, not yet," she said, then stood up straight. "I want you to watch when it happens." She reached for the bottle of lube, applied a very generous amount to her fingers (thank god), and almost before I knew it had two fingers inside me, stretching & massaging, getting me ready. It was much more comfortable for me this time around, and I could tell right away that the butt plug had been necessary as preparation. In fact, between what her fingers were doing physically, and what the whole mind-fuck of a situation was doing psychologically, the feeling that welled up inside me was very pleasant. I sighed aloud.

"Feels good?" she asked.

"It does."

"Just wait," she said. Her fingers withdrew with a schlick and she used the leftover lube to grease up her shaft while I could only watch.

Holy shit. This was it; it was really happening. Not hypothetically, not at some vaguely-defined future point... it was happening NOW. The reluctance (or resistance) that was still inside me broke through in one final, desperate gasp. What the fuck am I doing? How did I wind up here? Didn't I decide this was a bad idea? I can stop it; I can still stop it. Just say something...

Then she took hold of me and those objections died on my lips: her arms wrapped themselves around my thighs and dragged my whole body forward, towards the very edge of the mattress, towards my Christy. The move wasn't violent, but it was so commanding and effortless that it literally took my breath away. As had happened so many times before, I was pitifully indecisive, and Christine's touch nudged me onto the right path. How does she always know what I need? And where I belong?

And how does she always know so clearly what she wants? Christy felt none of my doubt or hesitation -- not now, seemingly not ever. She bore unswervingly towards her goal; if she paused, it was only to savor the experience. So unlike myself, she just has this perfect confidence... paired with brains... paired with beauty. How could I not want to follow her anywhere?

That's roughly what I was thinking when Christy spoke and snapped me back to reality. "Noah," she said. "It's time. Put me in. Show me you really want this." I nodded mutely without breaking eye contact, then my eyes travelled down her flawless body, pausing only briefly at her breasts, before landing on that that glistening mass of muscle and pure sexual firepower. My breath was heavy and ragged as I took her in my hand -- "oh m-my god" I whispered when my fingers felt her throbbing with desire -- and guided her south until her tip was nestled firmly into the ring of my entrance.

"Alright. When I start pushing in, you push out. And if there's a little pain at first, don't get scared: just hang on, and it'll start to feel good. Okay?"

"Yes. Okay."

Christy looked down to the spot where we were about to be joined and bit her lip in concentration. She pushed forward just the slightest bit (ohmygod, ohmygod), and I felt my rational brain zero out, swamped by adrenaline and a swirl of emotion. Words fell out of my mouth.

"Christy, I..." She stopped, and so did I. I stared at her dumbly for a second, no idea what I wanted to say. She looked back at me, waiting patiently. "... I really care about you is all." She smiled, sweetly, and chuckled to herself.

"Ha. Oh, sweetie, I know you do. Now just relax and let me take care of you." I felt the pressure on my sphincter return, then increase, then increase some more -- all while I watched, as she'd asked me to. I did my best to relax everything down there, but god knows it wasn't easy. And then, with a sharp, startling pinch, the first few inches of Christy's cock popped in.

"AH!" I cried.

"Ahhhhh," she sighed.

It was in -- SHE was in -- and there was no mistaking it. There was a thudding pain inside me at the point where her cockhead was lodged, and an intense fiery sensation all around my stretched out hole. A tinge of panic swept through me, but not because I was afraid of enduring pain -- I was afraid of not being able to endure it, of needing to stop. Afraid of disappointing Christine.

I looked up at Christy and the sight of her quieted me some. Her face was calm, happy; it said that she was in control and everything was going to be alright. It's a face that I've come to trust implicitly, so an instinct kicked in: if she's happy, I'm happy. Still, Christy could see my pained expression.