tagErotic CouplingsBen & Gabrielle Ch. 07a

Ben & Gabrielle Ch. 07a

byTheMadSonneteer©

Gabrielle made her way down two flights of stairs, to the laundry room located in the basement of their apartment building. It was her week to do the laundry. She hated doing laundry. But, she grudgingly accepted that not every piece of clothing she owned could be sent to the dry cleaners.

Ben's stuff could be washed in a river and beaten on a rock for all he cared, she thought.

At least the basket she carried wasn't heavy – she'd separated the loads into different baskets in the apartment.

She wore a pair of tight denim shorts, a red half-shirt – which exposed the dark-olive skin of her taut belly – and flip-flops. Though she was teaching a class during the summer semester, she had the day off, and felt no need to dress up in order to do laundry. It was a Tuesday, and most of the building's tenants would be at work, she reasoned.

She reached the basement and found the laundry room silent.

Good, she thought, no one is using either of the washing machines.

Her outlook brightened slightly when she realized she'd be able to complete this chore in half the time she'd anticipated.

As she started the second washer, she heard something scuff the floor behind her. She turned toward the archway leading to the storage areas for the building – she hadn't consciously noticed the lights were on in the storage area when she entered the laundry room. She saw a young man looking at her. He stood about 6'1" and possessed a lean, athletic build. His curly, dark blond hair was short, and his blue eyes seemed to be tracing up and down her body.

"Shit," she nearly screamed. "Who are you?"

The man was startled at her reaction.

"I...I'm Dylan," he stammered.

"What are you doing down here?" she asked, anxiously peeking toward the door to the stairs.

"I was cleaning up in my grandmother's storage area," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I heard someone in here and I just came out to see who it is."

"Your grandmother," Gaby said, fighting to keep her voice even.

"Yes," he said. "I'm Dylan Moynahan. We met the other night. Sort of. You're Gabrielle, right?"

"We did?" she asked.

"You did seem to be busy," he said. "Your husband was carrying you into your apartment."

"Oh," she said, slowly. "I remember her introducing you, but I didn't really get a good look at you."

"Yep," he said, "it's me."

"OK, well, I'll be in and out doing laundry," she said, her heart still pounding. "So, if you hear something, it's probably me."

His eyes were still surveying the landscape of her figure.

"I'm done," he said, looking up to meet her eyes. "I just have to lock up."

"Alright," she said, moving toward the stairs, "I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, probably," he said, staring at the Spanish-style cross tattooed just above the crack of her ass as she walked away.

Gaby got back to the apartment and sat down on the couch. She watched TV for a few minutes, then decided to text her friend, Whitney. She reached for her cell phone and realized she'd left it on the dryer – being surprised by Dylan had made her forget it. Unenthusiastically, she stood up and went to retrieve it.

She entered the laundry room and grabbed her phone. As she turned to leave, she noticed the lights still on in the storage area.

Dylan probably forgot to turn them off, she thought.

She leaned around the archway and reached for the light switch. She heard...something. She was about to call out to Dylan, thinking he was still working, but decided against it.

As she walked toward the wooden stockades set up to allow each apartment an individual storage area, the noise got louder. She came to Mrs. Moynahan's area. The door was open about two feet and she peeked inside.

She saw Dylan leaning back against a sheet-covered dresser, his eyes closed. His khaki shorts were pushed down, almost to his knees. His right hand was wrapped around his cock, and he was stroking himself rapidly.

She opened her mouth to say something, but, once again, stopped herself. She watched his hand move up and down the shaft quickly. It was a nice cock, she had to admit, not as long or as thick as Ben's, but enough to satisfy; almost six inches she estimated, and a little more than an inch across.

She caught herself licking her lips as she watched him.

Gaby felt a wave of excitement roll over her body; a raw stimulation at seeing a young man pleasure himself. She felt naughty, seeing something so personal, and usually so private. She'd watched Ben jerk off, of course – occasionally, she liked to tease him, and watch him shoot his cum; usually it ended up on her breasts. But, now she felt a weird electricity knowing – or perhaps just hoping – a stranger was thinking about her as he pleasured himself.

Gaby placed her hands on the wooden door as she watched. Dylan's hand moved faster – the fingers seemed almost a blur – his left hand clawed at the sheet beneath his ass.

It took only a few more moments before she saw the muscles in his thighs stiffen. He drew in a deep breath and held it as his body began to quiver. His face twisted into a grimace and his hips bucked violently against the dresser.

A long stream of cum spewed from his cock. It flew several feet through the air and splattered on the concrete floor inside the stockade. Dylan grunted as he fired again.

Gaby felt a tingle between her legs. Almost involuntarily, her right hand moved there, as she watched.

Dylan finished cumming quickly. He exhaled a long breath and opened his eyes. He saw Gaby peeking around the door.

"Fuck," he said, loudly.

Gaby jumped. From the shoulders down, her body was hidden from Dylan's view by the door. She was thankful he couldn't see where her hand was...or what she'd begun to do with it.

"Oh, Jeez; I'm sorry, Dylan," she said.

"Fuck," he repeated, his pants still lowered and his softening cock hanging down.

She took a step around the door, and held out her hands as if to show it was OK.

"Please, don't tell my grandmother," he pleaded, as a look of panic spread across his face.

"It's OK, Dylan," Gaby said, quietly. "I won't tell her."

He fumbled with his pants, trying to close them. He wiped his cum-covered right hand on his shorts.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," he hissed, as he turned away from Gaby.

"Dylan," she ordered, "look at me."

He didn't move.

"Dylan, please look at me," she said, taking two steps into the stockade.

She moved up beside him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his face turning red.

"It's OK," she assured him. "It's natural."

He was nervous, and his breath began coming in ragged gasps.

"Calm down, Honey," Gaby said. "Lean against the dresser again."

He did so. She moved to stand beside him, careful not to step in the cum dotting the floor.

"Just breathe," she said, touching his shoulder.

She remained silent for a minute, allowing him to regain some semblance of composure.

"How old are you Dylan?" she asked, when his breathing slowed.

"18," he said.

"Where do you go to school?" she asked.

"I start at City University next month," he answered.

"Hey, I teach at CU," she said.

"I'm hoping to transfer to Harvard next year," he told her.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, quietly.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

"No," he said.

"A boyfriend?" she added.

He let out a short laugh.

"No, no boyfriend," he said.

"Have you ever had one?" Gaby asked.

"Not really," he said, "but I have had sex...with girls."

"Oh," she said, inquisitively.

"I've hooked up with girls at parties," he offered.

"Parties?" Gaby exclaimed. "Mrs. Moynahan's grandson goes to parties?"

He laughed.

"I'm not my grandmother," he said.

"I bet she disapproves," Gaby said.

"She does," he agreed. "That's why I'm stuck here for the summer. She thinks it will be good for me."

"I can only imagine what she think about Ben and I," Gaby laughed.

"She claims you're drug addicts, heathens, and God-less fornicators living in sin," Dylan told her.

"We do not do drugs," Gaby objected.

Dylan chuckled and she smiled up at him.

"Well, I guess I better get going," she said.

She took a step toward the door, stopped, and looked at him.

"The next time you need to...relieve yourself," she suggested, "you might want to do it someplace a little more private."

He looked down at the floor.

"Are you gonna tell your husband?" he asked.

"Ben is my fiancé," she told him. "And, I haven't decided yet."

"Please don't," Dylan whispered.

"You got pretty good range," she said.

"What?" he asked, looking up, unsure he'd properly heard what she'd just said.

"You shot a long way," she said, pointing to the floor.

He nodded, wordlessly.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

"And, you'll tell me the truth?" she asked.

Again, he responded in the affirmative.

"Who were you thinking about when you jerked off?" she asked.

He grew red and looked away from her.

"Tell me," Gaby said.

"You," he said, just above a whisper.

The tingle returned between Gaby's legs.

"Just me in general, or was there something specific?" she asked.

He looked at her.

"I was thinking about you bending over the washing machine," he said, "like when I saw you earlier."

"I see," she said.

"And, your hair," he said.

"My hair?" she questioned. "What about it?"

"It's tuff," he said.

"Tuff," she repeated. "That's a word from my generation. Where'd you learn it?"

She reached up to touch the side of her head, and ran her fingers through the short hair of her pixie cut.

"I don't know, it just fits," he said, with a grin.

She watched his eyes lower to look at her perky 32B breasts. She looked down. Her nipples were hard. They poked against the thin fabric of her t-shirt.

She noticed a bulge growing in the front of Dylan's shorts.

"Already?" she asked, covering her chest with her arms. "You little horn dog."

"I can't help it," he said. "You're so hot."

"Aren't you a smoothie," she said to the air.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"When you hooked up at these parties, did you wear a condom every time?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Unless it was just a blowjob."

"Where did the girls let you cum?" she asked.

"Usually in their mouth," he said, "but, sometimes on their ti...breasts."

"Did you ever...you know...return the favor?" she inquired.

"No, not at the parties," he said.

"Hmmm," she said.

"But, I have gone down on women a few times," he added.

She smiled at him as she turned over an idea in her head.

"Have you ever had a threesome at one of your wild parties?" she asked.

"Not exactly," he said.

"What does that mean?"

"A girl blew a friend and I at the same time," he said.

"Did you like that?" she asked.

"I liked that I got blown," he said, with a laugh.

"Did you watch while she sucked your friend?" Gaby asked.

"Yes," he said. "It was kind of like watching porn."

She glanced at the front of his shorts.

"It looks like you're ready to go again," she observed.

"Do you want to watch all the way through this time?" he asked.

The question caught her off guard, and the tingle between her legs became stronger. It took a few moments for her to answer.

"Wow, what happened to the shy kid who was here a minute ago?" she asked.

"I'm not really shy," he said. "I was just embarrassed that you caught me. And, worried that you'd tell my grandmother."

She had never cheated on Ben – never even been tempted, really – and she knew she wasn't going to start now. Her mind did, however, drift to thoughts of the agreement she'd made with Ben years before.

Not long after they'd become serious – a thought which made her laugh; it seemed they were serious from the moment they met – they made a bargain with each other: either of them could bring a third person into their bed, as long as it was discussed and consented to beforehand. This, they both recognized, was not cheating.

"Ah," she said. "Well, I should probably leave you to your business then."

She could see the disappointment on his face.

"Sorry, Sweetie," she said, as she walked toward the door.

She stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. He looked at her face, then down at her ass as she wiggled it slowly back and forth several times.

"Have fun," she said, with a giggle.

She closed the stockade door and ran upstairs.

"How's the laundry going?" Ben teased from his office, when he heard the front door slam closed.

"Oh, it's coming along nicely," she called out, making a pun he – being ignorant of recent events in the basement – missed.

Gaby kicked off her flip-flops and walked briskly into Ben's office. As she approached his desk, she pulled her shirt up over her head, and dropped it to the floor.

"Hey, Baby," he said, looking at her with a puzzled expression.

She didn't answer. She pushed her bare upper body against his shoulder, causing his chair to roll away from the polished, dark cherry wood. Ben swiveled toward her as it rolled.

"What are...," he began.

Before he could finish, Gaby climbed into his lap and mashed her mouth against his. She forced her tongue into his mouth and tore at his t-shirt with her fingers.

Needing no more encouragement, Ben kissed her back. He slid his hands up her back and held her to him.

"I want you to fuck me, Ben," she said, finally breaking their kiss.

"What the hell is..." he tried to ask.

Gaby put her hand over his mouth as she stood up.

"I didn't tell you to talk, I told you to fuck," she said, a possessed look on her face.

Ben stood quickly, reached out with his right hand, and grabbed her neck. He lifted her until her until she stood on her tip-toes. She reached up to grab at his arm.

He moved his face within an inch of hers as he held her.

"Is this what you want?" he whispered, as he squeezed.

Her eyes answered him. They rolled back in her head as her body began to shake.

"Oh, God," she managed to whisper.

Ben put his left hand on her right shoulder and pushed her backward until her ass hit the edge of his desk. He continued pushing, leaning her until her shoulders touched the front of the hutch.

He stood between her legs as her body convulsed and her nails dug into his arm.

"You just came, didn't you?" Ben said more than asked.

She nodded a fraction of an inch against his grip as she gasped for breath.

He moved his left hand to her head and pulled her hair, tilting her head back. Then, he released her neck and moved his right hand down between her legs. He could feel the damp heat of her sex.

"You're soaking wet, aren't you?" he asked.

He got another small nod.

"Please," she whispered.

He tore at the buttons on the front of her shorts. After three popped open, he slid his hand inside the top of her pants. His fingers found her wetness and she gasped as her body again began to shake.

Despite Ben's hand in her pants, Gaby's knees came up and she tried to cross her legs as she came for the second time.

Once more she cried out for a diety as she writhed on the desk.

Ben released her hair and removed his hand from her shorts. He hooked his fingers in two of her belt loops and pulled roughly. Still cumming, she struggled to lift her ass and allow the pants to slide down her legs.

Beneath her shorts, Gaby wore a purple, satin thong. Ben removed it quickly. He grabbed Gaby's arms and pulled her hands to her stomach. As she watched, he tied the underwear tightly around her wrists. Her hands bound, Ben lowered himself to his knees and pushed his face between Gaby's legs. He lifted her legs and rested them on his shoulders.

"Oh, Dios mío," Gaby cried, as Ben pushed his tongue against her clit.

She put her hands on Ben's head and pulled him into her. Her juices intoxicated him.

"Sí, hacer que me corra," Gaby moaned.

Ben didn't understand much Spanish – just a few words and phrases Gaby had taught him – but long ago he'd learned that when Gaby slipped into her native language, she was extremely turned on, and the coming orgasm would be explosive.

He trailed his tongue up and down her wet lips, feeling her body react to him. Using the fingers of his right hand, he spread her open and tried to push his tongue inside her.

Her body stiffened, nearly pushing the heavy hutch off the desk.

Ben slipped his tongue in and out a dozen times before lifting his head.

"You taste so good, Baby," he said, looking into her eyes.

He reached up and turned her so she could lie back flat on the desk, rather than lean against the hutch.

Again, Ben lowered his head, this time pushing his tongue against Gaby's clit as he slipped his forefinger inside her. He quickly added a second finger.

Gaby ran her fingers through Ben's short hair as she tried to pull his face into her. It took only another minute of Ben plunging his fingers into her and flicking his tongue against her clit for her to cum again.

"Sí, me corro," she cried out to Ben as her back arched.

Her legs wrapped around his head and shoulders as her body convulsed. Ben didn't lessen the intensity of his attack on her sex.

Keeping his fingers inside her, he slowly raised himself. He trailed his tongue over her warm skin as he moved upward. Reaching her mouth, he kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on him. As they kissed, he began rubbing her clit with his thumb. Her body jumped as he touched her.

He broke the kiss and looked into her brown eyes.

"Por favor," she said, a pleading look on her face. "Por favor, dámela."

Ben carefully removed his fingers from Gaby. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her off the desk and turned her to face away from him.

He laughed when he saw her back.

"What?" Gaby asked, turning her head.

"It looks like you want to help me with my work," he said.

Reaching up, he removed a piece of paper stuck to the sweaty skin of her back.

Gaby watched as he dropped the damp page to the floor, then she bent over his desk. She spread her feet so her hipbones rested just on the edge of the wood. He looked down at her beautiful ass, and admired her tattoo, as she looked back at him over her right shoulder.

"Come on, Ben; fuck me," she hissed.

Ben pushed down the sweatpants and boxer briefs he wore. He moved up behind her and slid the head of his stiff cock along her wet lips. He stroked himself as his tip brushed against her.

"Don't fucking tease me," Gaby demanded.

He used his right hand to guide himself into her, letting just the tip penetrate her. She moaned as he entered her.

"More," she demanded.

Without waiting for him to comply, she rocked backward an inch, forcing more of his hardness into her.

"That's it," she whispered. "Harder!"

He pushed farther into her, getting his cock wet with her juices, and letting her adjust to him.

"Ram that fucking cock in me, Ben," she almost screamed at him.

As he thrust toward her again, she braced herself against the desk, and shoved herself back onto him. His entire length slid inside her in one movement.

She slammed her fists against his desk, then opened her hands to claw at the wood.

"Siiií," she cried out. "Me jodas!"

"Fuuuck," Ben said, at the same time, through clenched teeth.

Any self-control he might have had melted. He grabbed her hips – his fingers digging into her flesh. He moved his hips back two inches, then drove himself forward violently – pulling her back toward him as he did so. Again, she tried to push herself against him.

Despite her movement toward him, his powerful thrust drove Gaby into the desk. Her petite, 5'2" body was no match for his heavy, 6'3" frame. Her hips and the front of her thighs hit the desk hard, as he buried himself inside her.

He didn't wait for her to react. He pulled back a few inches and rammed himself into her again. His hips collided with the cheeks of her ass, once more pushing her against the desk.

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