Anarchy, Astrology, and Aphrodisia

He let one hand travel down through a neat triangle of pubic hair to her bare cunt.God, she was wet. His middle and index finger ran up and down the soft, smooth folds, pausing to mimic the tiny circles around her clit that had so excited her.

Dylan sat back and lowered his mouth to her pussy. He sucked lightly on the little nub of her clit, earning an appreciative moan.

Emboldened, he slipped two fingers inside her, at the same time touching the tip of his tongue to her clit. Wendy threaded her hands through his hair and wrapped her legs over his shoulders.

"Just like that," she purred.

Dylan flicked his tongue back and forth over her clit. Her breath was becoming heavy. He sped the pace of his fingers and sucked hard.

"Dylan, I- oh god, I- uhn!" She panted, one leg trembling on his shoulder. He grinned and withdrew his fingers, now coated with her cum.

Gently disentangled from her legs, Dylan sat back on his heels and admired his work. Wendy's black hair was splayed out around her head as she lay still for a moment, her flushed breasts rising and falling. Finally she rose to her knees.

"Very good boy."

Wendy straddled him, forcing him to lean backwards. She began to undulate her hips, sliding up and down the length of his swollen cock.

"Do you want to cum?"

Dylan nodded, his throat dry.

"Have you earned it?"

He nodded again. Wendy smiled and guided the fat mushroom head of his cock to her entrance.

"Prove it."

Dylan caressed her thighs and gripped her heart-shaped ass. He thrust his hips upwards, forcing the entirety of his length into her tight cunt. Wendy gasped with pleasure as his girth filled her.

She fought back instinctually, pushing his pelvis down and rolling her hips slowly, torturously. But he wasn't going to let her win, not this time. Dylan thrust again, knocking her off balance. She braced herself on her elbows, ass in the air, breasts crushed against Dylan's chest.

He grasped her hair and pulled her in for a kiss, at once tender and overpowering as he used the new position to pound his cock into her at a driving pace. All the frustration, the passion, the pent up energy came to a head. He wanted to punish her and pleasure her in equal measure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered. "God, Dylan!"

"Say it," he grunted. He could hear Wendy's breath coming in quick gasps. "Say it."

She kissed slowly up the side of his neck to his earlobe and he could feel her lips part in a smile against his skin. When she spoke her voice was firm but barely louder than a whisper,

"Now."

That pushed him over the edge at last. Wendy cried out as Dylan shuddered and slammed hard into her once. Then again, and again. He had never felt a release so intense or so long lasting. Wendy gasped, her muscles spasming and relaxing around him.

She collapsed on top of him, his cock still stuffed inside her. Dylan lay panting deeply, noticing her pleasant weight, her plump breasts pressing two cold metal rings against him, the smell of weed, and sex, and chai.

An insistent knock at the front door snapped him out of the comfortable daze. It was loud and clear even from upstairs.

A deep muffled voice called, "Wendy! I know you're in there, let me in."

Wendy sat bolt upright. "You have to go."

She gingerly climbed off him and started hurriedly gathering clothes off the floor. Taking her cue, Dylan rid himself of the cock ring, yanked on his boxer briefs and retrieved his jeans.

"Who is that?"

"I'll tell you later." She said, a hint of anxiety in her voice. She tossed his t-shirt across the bed. "You should really leave."

He caught the shirt and pulled it over his head. Wendy was pulling a dry towel out of her closet. The knocking grew louder.

"Wendy! Let me in, my keys aren't working. Wendy!"

Wendy opened the bedroom door, draping the towel around herself as Dylan slipped on his shoes with laces untied.

"Go down the back steps," she hissed. She pointed to the door at the end of the hall and yelled "I'm coming! I was in the shower!"

Confused and adrenaline-filled, Dylan looked to the door and back to Wendy's panicked face. Knowing there was a good chance this could severely backfire, he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She let him (good sign) but made no effort to prolong the moment (bad sign.)

The pounding at the door was now quite urgent, even louder than before. Dylan ran for the door, turning back for a moment to look at her with a bemused smile, and bounded down the back steps.

As he walked back to the street where his car was parked blocks away from the bookshop, he noticed the September chill that permeated the air now that night had fallen.His jacket. He had left it crumpled on the floor of Wendy's room. Idiot.

Still, he couldn't help but smile at the thought that, sooner or later, he was going to have to go back for it.

To be continued...