Bite Me

It's one of those nights.

The day must have been so cloyingly hot the air has stayed thick with it for hours after sunset. I'm restless right through to my bones tonight.

The wind picks up, hissing through the thirsty trees on the square. Fat drops of rain hit the asphalt. In the center of my chest I feel a distant roll of thunder long before the flash. The air chills as the rain falls harder. What a relief. Should be for someone, somewhere anyway.

I spark up a smoke, standing in the lee of a big old brownstone. Sounds of pots and pans and male voices carry through the open door of the restaurant kitchen. Divine scents of focaccia and ragu carry too, simple things thrown together with enough skill to make a tidy profit for me. I have my fingers in many pies, this restaurant being one of my more honest ventures.

I hear the woman's step before I see her. Tap tap tap, high heeled sandals on concrete. She runs past the alley where I'm smoking, her purse held up to protect her curls from the rain. Her filmy red sundress clings to all her curves. No bra. No panties. My oh my.

"Hey!" I call, doing my very best to sound concerned and non threatening,

She looks back at me, her punk frown melts when she sees I'm just a woman, smaller and weaker than herself.

"You can wait under here til it passes? If you like?" I say.

I stub out the cigarette on the brickwork, toss it into a bucket of sand overflowing with dead ends.

She's shivering, arms and shoulders soaked. I duck into the kitchen and grab her a clean rag to dry off with. She dabs gingerly at her dress, which leaves nothing to my imagination. Her nipples stand out so well I can see the texture of her areolas.

"My damn phone is broken," she sniffs, "piece of shit."

"Want me to call you a cab?"

She says nothing. She catches the sweet scent of garlic and sun-dried tomato sauce, her stomach clenches in hunger and it takes her a second to process what I said.

"Sure. I guess."

"You far from here?"

She shrugs. "I got a friend I can stay with in Charlestown. Fuck it, I could walk."

"Up to you. See that window up there?"

She cranes her neck to look behind the iron fire escape.

"That's my place. It's not the Elton, but you can warm up 'til the rain stops. That is if you don't mind the stairs."

The corner of her mouth curls up in bemusement, "Huh?"

"Beats running through the streets with no clothes... I mean no coat on in this weather."

"Right. I guess." She crosses her arms, too little too late, her shoulders slump with embarrassment she seems to shrink a little.

"You like seafood? Pasta?"

"Yuh huh, but this place is waaay over..."

I lean through the kitchen door and shout for Giuseppe, the junior chef. He tips me a wink when I order a take out lobster ravioli.

"Sure boss. Want me to bring it up?"

"Nah, they need you down here tonight big boy. Send Leo up in half an hour or so?"

I see the resentment in his eyes as I return his wink.

I lead the way up the wobbly iron stairway, the poor girl clambers up in her high heels clinging on with both hands. I can hear her heart racing over the rain.

Third floor.

Of the many places I call home, I prefer a cozy little garret; unassuming, safe, isolated by the effort it takes to get up there.

Inside I flick on a reading lamp and toss the girl a dressing gown. For her comfort I turn up the thermostat.

"Want me to toss that dress in the drier?"

For the first time, she hesitates. I try not to dwell too much on why. A sixth sense maybe? A hang up on what this place really is? I don't live here of course. I don't live anywhere. With careful appraisal, anyone would notice, though most people don't look, or they don't want to see.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure. Take all the time you need."

That seems to set her at ease. I hear everything as she takes a piss, washes her hands, splashes some water on her face, sits back on the porcelain throne and has a little cry.

I dig a bottle of merlot out the back of one of my sad kitchen cupboards, wipe the dust out of a glass and set a place for her at the coffee table. I spark up another cigarette, and make myself a hot chocolate to hold. It's funny how those little things help. The warmth of the cup takes the chill off my fingers, the cigarette helps me remember I should breathe.

When she comes out, I'm sat on the couch, feet curled up under me, normal as could be.

Her face is puffy, but she's reapplied her makeup. Gorgeous lipstick. Big long black eyelashes. She has the wet dress bunched in a fist, and she's wearing the silk robe I gave her.

"God, I needed that."

I smile and offer her the glass. "You want me to open it?"

She drops onto the couch with a sigh.

"What's with you? What's with," she glanced around my sparsely decorated rooms. "I mean, y'know? This."

A flash of lightning blurs my eyes, and thunder tears through the air. The roof vibrates with the intensity of the downpour. I hope Leo has the sense to wait a few more minutes. I wouldn't want to stand on a cast iron fire escape in this.

"I'm nosy I guess," I try to break the ice. "I saw you running and I wondered why. Something upset you."

She takes a long sip of good wine. Now that's magic. Her brow smoothes out and she sighs as it hits the spot. "Bad date is all. Rough ride. I'll pay you back just as soon as I sort out my bank cards and shit."

"You're a working girl, right?"

"Abbie. My name's Abbie." She rolls her eyes. "Jesus. 'working girl'? It ain't like that miss ah... what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. Obviously I don't mean that you're a street walker, but please don't insult my intelligence. You do sell yourself. Fancy making a quick fifty?"

She looks at me carefully, sizing me up. The color rises in her cheeks and she sips the drink again. "You don't seem the type. Ma'am."

"Anything you don't do?"

"For real?" She says. "Maybe I don't do girls." She flinches as lightning flashes again. "I did not expect you to hit on me."

"I'm not hitting on you, Abbie. I'm offering you fifty dollars for the use of your cunt."

"Shit," she giggles and toys with the glass, though her eyes aren't smiling at all. "Just goes to show you can't judge a book by the cover. Okay ma'am. I'll bite. I'll put out for fifty, dinner, and somewhere to crash tonight."

As if by magic, Leo begins hammering on my door and I quickly let him in. He's a compact shortish twenty year old kid with a thing for older women. I've used Leo a few times before.

He takes in the beautiful half naked brunette on the couch and looks to me for instructions.

"Freshen up, boy. Take some time to get the kitchen stink out of your hair."

"Yes ma'am," he says, sheepish.

As the door closes, Abbie huffs indignantly. "Fifty won't cover a three way."

"It's fifty, lobster, merlot, and a bed for the night, Abbie. Don't get fresh."

"Whatever. Wait. Lobster? For me?"

I kneel on the floor beside the coffee table and carefully plate up the meal for her. She really is starving. I watch her eat, savoring the heady cocktail of lust and resentment that roils in my heart. "What did you do today?"

"Like I said, bad date. I mean, before that I took a walk, I guess? Scored some weed and a couple of lines?" She smiles a more genuine smile. "I like to get ahead while I'm in the mood." She takes a big breath, enjoying the slightly acidic tang of the sauce. "So I make some solo content with toys. I have some paid stuff up on 'only fans', if you're interested?"

Some people are so disconnected from the moment. So disconnected with what this is all for. Why breathe, why eat? Why struggle so you can fuck plastic on camera?

"I prefer this." I slide my hand under the hem and caress the smooth olive skin of her inner thigh.

Abbie hurriedly stuffs another couple of mouthfuls before lying back on the couch and spreading her knees for me. "How do you want this? You wanna go first?"

Now that I'm touching her, it's hard to block out the noise of her anxiety. She's been crashing at a friend's place since her uncle kicked her out, and tonight, the so-called friend tried to take advantage of her.

She's noticed my lack of personal effects. She's painfully aware that there's no easy exit, she's rightfully suspicious of me, but can't put her finger on why. She's never done anything like this with a stranger.

"You are so uptight." I slip in beside her on the couch, and pull her around so her face is in my lap, looking up at me. I know I'm being a cruel. This is far too intimate for first contact. I pull aside the robe and cup her breast.

Her hand snatches up to catch my wrist.

"You want me to stop altogether, or do you need a minute?" I ask.

"It's just sensitive."

"Here?" I strum my finger across her fat nipple.

"Yes! Too much."

"Put your hands underneath your ass. Keep them out of the way."

"Yes ma'am." She reluctantly obeys.

"Much better."

Then I wait, with my right hand resting just beneath her breast on the neat curve of her ribs, connected to her anxious breathing as it slows. Her nipples flatten out a little as her fear fades, her arousal drops.

I'm along for the ride at this point. I feel her mind drift as she listens to the rain, listens to the shower running in the room next door, waits with mild curiosity for what could happen when the shower stops.

Leo, Leo, he could become a favorite of mine. He's a simple man of simple pleasures and a hearty constitution.

I tighten my grip on Abbie's hair with my left hand, feel her attention snap back to me as I gaze down at her quivering lips. It makes me smile that she is so responsive, so sweet. I let my hand wander back up to cup her breast and gently play the nipple back to hardness with my cold thumb. Her body goes rigid as she notices that I am not breathing. At all.

Some people will fight at this point and I'm always ready for that. Some people will force the truth to the back of their minds and carry on like everything is normal. Some people break down, they beg, they cry.

And then there are some people.

A very few people.

They look right back up into my eyes. They hold their breath and bite their lip and give me everything I need before I can ask. They don't have to say a word, I hear the flutter of their silly hearts singing take me. Eat me. Fuck me.

Abbie screams. She goes to claw my face and my eyes and I let her.

I barely move at all, just allow one corner of my mouth to curl up in a knowing smirk.

She kicks out wildly, knocks into the coffee table, upsets the half empty bowl of ravioli and the red wine.

"Help! Help! Somebody! Please!"

She'll scalp herself in panic if I'm not careful. I shift my grip on her hair to include the much sturdier back of her neck.

Her clawed hands tear at me, making a mess of my neat chignon. She might as well get it out of her system. She gouges her fingers at my eye, earning a flinch, more from triggered memories than any impact her manicured nails make.

Slowly, steadily, the fight melts out of her. Only then do I speak.

"Heh," I tut, glancing at the mess she's made of her supper. "You're fortunate I look after my food better than you do."

"Please don't kill me," she sobs, "Aw fuck," she hiccoughs, "let me go!"

I'm not hurting her. Not really. But she can feel the unspeakable power in my hands and she's stuck helpless on her back with her tits out. She is overcome with emotion, wishing so hard that she never ran from her friend's car tonight. He'd probably have been happy with an eyeful of her tits and some quick head. Now she's stuck in this steel trap about to be eaten by a fucking..."

"I'm not going to eat you, Abbie."

I take a risk and relax my right hand, trace down the center of her belly, circling her navel, teasing.

"Besides, we made a deal. Remember? Dinner and fifty for the use of your cunt? And a bed for tonight?"

"But you're not human," she whines.

"A deal's a deal, right? I'm a... creature of my word."

"You're never gonna let me go." Her face scrunches up, snotty, silently mouthing a prayer? I think?

What is that? Some bastardized English language version of the act of contrition?

"Femicide is on the table for negotiation so to speak," I wink playfully down at her. "I could kill you, obviously I could. And I might. Unless you can somehow make it worth my while not to? Hmm?"

"Anything, just please, oh! Shit!" She presses her eyes shut tight as my fingers trace down her belly, across her silky smooth mons, into the sweaty crease between her thigh and pussy lips. Her knees tremble but she doesn't clamp her legs shut.

"Where did I tell you to put your hands?"

"Sorry!" she whines, shoving them back under her hips, almost lifting herself in her eagerness to please.

I'm not quite fingering her, just teasing up and down, enjoying her focus, her new found will to survive. Right on cue, Leo quietly opens the bathroom door.

He kneels respectfully on the cheap linoleum, hands clasped behind him. He waits for my command, his eyes downcast, his cock, eagerly standing to attention. The thought of what I have in store for him is enough to keep him hard. Ah, youth.

The sisal rug is a lost cause, covered in red wine and ragu.

"Just look at the state of my damn carpet," I say, frowning down at Abbie.

All the while, my fingers are working, easing themselves into a rhythm of gentle pressure above her hidden clit. She has a cute pussy. Aroused, her full outer lips barely conceal the slick softness within. Her hairlessness leaves those peeping dark little petals on display like a rose bud barely open. Yes, her cunt is a huge distraction.

"That's fifty, right there, just to get the stains out."

"Uh! Oh" she squeaks as I carefully massage her swelling clit until the wet tip licks against my hand. "I can pay you... oooh, fucking take it all, just..."

"Uh! uh!" I mock her, "what the fuck are you going to live on if I take your fifty for the carpet, huh? Stupid little bitch."

"Oh, God, I just meant..."

"Fuck the carpet. Keep your damn money, you're about to earn it and then some. Lie back on the coffee table and open your legs."

"Okay, just don't hurt me," she stammers.

I love this little table. It was cheap, but it's really sturdy, and just the right height and length for my needs.

"Arms down by your sides, keep those vicious hands to yourself."

She shrugs off the robe, sits on the far end of the table and lays herself back in the filth. Cold red sauce and spilled wine beneath her skin make her shudder, but she lifts her knees and opens them. Her hands grip the edges of the veneered surface.

I unpin the mess she made of my hair, let the red curls fall about my shoulders. She watches, wide eyed as I stand.

I turn my back on her as I unbutton my blouse and toss it over the back of the couch. I slide my circle skirt down, giving her a good view of my bare ass. I keep the lace topped stockings and ornate garter belt. I keep my shoes on. God knows I need the extra height as I straddle both Abbie's face and the coffee table. I rarely bother to remove the hair on my cunt and arse. It grows back within a day, who has time for that?

"Now, I don't need you to move. Keep your eyes open and your mouth and your legs wide open. Can you do that for me, Abbie?"

"I can," she says, her voice less than confident.

"I will know. I will know if you close your mouth or your eyes. For extra credit you can let your tongue hang out while I ride your face, but I don't want you kissing me, you hear?"

"Wh... what like... you don't want me to eat you out?" Her face is a picture. Flushed red, already wet with tears, now the confusion. Precious.

"No Abbie. I want you entirely passive. Play dead. There's a good girl."

I squat lower until I can feel her breath between my legs, rest maybe half my weight on her face, and she whimpers. I close my eyes, let myself into her terrified mind, let myself feel her anguish, her desperation, and the throbbing ball of dread her cunt has become.

"That's a good little bitch."

I snap my fingers at Leo and he crawls over to us.

"Look at me boy. Eyes on mine."

His mind opens, soft as butter. He is an eager thrall.

"Enter her," I command him.

Leo's cock finds its way into Abbie with one swift stroke. Perfect. He is no untried boy, no spilling all his seed at the first touch, he's not even tempted. He won't come for Abbie, not for her sweet submissive body, that's all for show. And she? She barely whimpers as her wet lips stretch around his generous girth. My puppets. My toys.

He fucks her steadily at first, her body slides up the table top as his hips slap meatily against her ass.

She lets out a thin little wail of humiliation as I begin to slide myself up and down her face, driving her nose and lips up and down my dry cunt. I firmly grip her tits, sliding her back up the table, ramming her into Leo's pounding hips, grinding half circles on her face. She grabs her own ass and tries to hold her cheeks wider to accommodate Leo's thick prick. I slide her toward him and lift my feet for a few seconds, pinning her head in place with my weight as Leo grabs her thighs and pounds in earnest.

Abbie wails pathetically into my cunt, her tear filled eyes fixed on the puckered hole riding the bridge of her nose. Her jaw is slack, her bruised lips drag across her teeth as I ride. She doesn't dare to put out her tongue, and I don't blame her.

I ride her mind as I ride her face, her fear and degradation are my drug of choice. A hungry young cunt stretched around a stranger's cock. An undercurrent of self conscious vanity as the mascara runs into her eyes and it stings.

When I stand, she lifts her hands to her face, just to assess the damage. "You hurt me," she begs, "my teeth, my jaw, it's horrible, please..."

Her words tail off as her pussy overrides her brain, with its slap slap slap, wet cunt against the boy's hips.

I'm almost mesmerized by the obscene sight of her firm tits rolling and rippling as Leo pounds into her. Her makeup is smeared all across her face and tits.

"I shouldn't have to hurt you. Maybe next time you'll be more careful with other people's things."

She is staring at the shock of red hair between my legs. "I... I can make it up to you?"

"I'll think about it. Enough, boy." I snap my fingers and Leo pulls out.

I love that sensation. She let her body answer Leo's lust and now she's wet and open and empty and humiliated beyond belief that she'd started to enjoy it. That anyone might have noticed.

"Get up. On your knees little bitch. Mouth wide open." She does as I ask, clumsily kneeling beside the couch unsure where to put her hands she settles on folding them demurely at the front. What a picture.

I snap my fingers at Leo. "You. Here, boy."

He sits on the edge of the couch, and I kneel up behind him. I whisper gently in his ear, caressing his chest, grinding up against his back, "Feed her your cock, boy."

He guides her head down onto his fat cock, it's not in his nature to hurt a woman, but for me he would fuck her arse dry. I give him the freedom to be gentle. This time.

Eagerly I sink to the floor beside Abbie, guide her knees apart, direct her to stroke his shaft and cup the weighty softness of his balls.

"Concentrate," I breathe gently, as I sink the fingers of my left hand deep into her well fucked pussy from behind. With my right, I begin to tease and roll her nipples, this way, that way, gently kneading her tit flesh as Leo gently bones her mouth. "You are my toy. My little fuck puppet, Abbie. Why would I hurt you? Why would I? When I can play you like this, hmm?"

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" Wide eyed, my naïve fuck toy bobs her head, hoping to focus on Leo's pleasure, spare herself the added humiliation of humping my hand, but her body has other ideas.