Charlie's Ex

Charlie wrapped both hands around a cold cup of black coffee, never lifting it to his lips. His head hung slack over the cup and his unkempt, sandy blonde hair dangled around his face. I took a seat next to him at the kitchen table. He shook his head and looked at me with an unfocused stare. I wanted to do something to help him, but I did not know what. Feeling useless, I gathered a couple of empty beer cans from the edge of the table. These empties completed the pyramid he had stacked in the center.

"Fuck her," he snapped. He swept his forearm across the table and scattered the empty cans around the kitchen.

With his energy spent on this brief burst of anger, he dropped his chin down to his chest. Only inches from the table, his long hair dragged through puddles of spilled beer. He released a heavy sigh, filling our air space with his hot, foul, drunken breath.

He cocked his head at me with a questioning look. His brow furrowed and eyes pinched shut, fighting to hold back tears. In the next instant a shadow crossed his face and a torrent of beer-addled rage poured out. "Fuck that cock sucking bitch... who cares? She's done with me? Fuck her! I'm fucking done with her!"

"Alright buddy. C'mon, let's move it into the living room." I got up and helped him stand. Throwing his arm over my shoulder, we staggered across the filthy kitchen. Charlie kicked cans and dragged his feet through stale, spilled beer. We had a harrowing moment where he stopped, gulped, and burped. He held off an imminent puke. With a few near collapses we got across his living room and I dumped him into his recliner.

Charlie collapsed into the over-stuffed chair. His head lolled left, right, and then his chin came to a rest on his chest. Within moments he began to snore. I scanned the room for a wastebasket and found a small one near his bookcase. I dumped the bits of paper from the wastebasket into the kitchen trashcan and secured the liner. Lifting his arm, I nestled the waste basket into his side and positioned it in case he decided to boot.

Confident that Charlie was out for a while, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to his ex, Cara. "He's out."

About 10 minutes later Cara texted me back. She waited outside the door, not wanting to knock and wake up Charlie. After walking out on him yesterday, Cara had left a few things at the apartment that she needed to retrieve. There was no way he was going to make it easy for her, so she recruited my help. Charlie's my boy and I would never do anything to hurt him, but he was prone to be childish about stuff like this.

I was careful to open the door without making any noise. She stood on the apartment stoop with a large grey duffel bag over her shoulder. Her long, chestnut colored hair was bound in a loose knot atop her head. What appeared to be chopsticks held the knot in place. She wore baggy blue sweats and a grey fleece hoodie. Cara was an obvious athletic beauty, regardless of what she wore.

It was only a day since this had been her apartment too, but she was hesitant to cross the threshold. Anxious to get this over without any trouble, I motioned for her to enter. Our eyes met, and I could see the fear in her eyes. She whispered, "Thanks Martyn," as she entered. Careful to not make any noise, she tip-toed across the living room. She looked back over her shoulder as she stepped into their former shared bedroom. It was obvious by the flash of disdain on her face that whatever feelings she once had for Charlie were gone. His drinking cost him his job and he targeted his anger at Cara. She endured it for months. But yesterday he snapped and struck her in a drunken haze. She called it quits and moved out that day.

Following her to the bedroom, I leaned on the door frame and stood watch for any movement by Charlie. She gathered her personal belongings. All that remained from her hasty escape were shoes, a few articles of clothing, and some jewelry. I turned to see if she needed any help as she lifted some lacy pink panties off of the bed. She held them at arm's length with obvious contempt and dropped them back onto the floor.

I shrugged. Before Cara, Charlie was notorious for one-night stands and an inability to commit. She was good for him, but he blew it. And now he had gone out and hooked-up with another woman right after Cara walked out. He was making it hard to have any sympathy for the fool.

Cara went about gathering her things and placing them into her duffel bag. I saw her pull a pair of black stiletto high heel shoes out of the closet and thrust them into the canvas bag.

My mind flashed back to a friend's wedding several months ago. Charlie, her, and I attended the reception together. Cara looked stunning in a classic, knee length, teal colored dress. It's narrow waist and a plunging neckline accentuated her lovely, pert breasts. She wore those same stilettos, emphasizing the muscular tone of her long legs. Watching her glide with grace around the room in those high heels was all the distraction I could handle.

As happened all too often, Charlie got drunk and acted like a jerk. His surfer good looks suffered from the effects of alcohol and physical neglect. But in his mind, he was still the charmer that could get any girl he wanted. After hitting on all the bridesmaids and the bride's married sister, I poured him into a Lyft. I gave the driver a generous cash tip to get him home.

I remembered how awkward I felt trying to comfort her. There was no point in making excuses for Charlie. She was strong and fought back tears, unwilling to accept pity from anyone. As I fumbled for supportive things to say, she took my hand and said, "Thank you."

The delicate scent of her perfume entranced me. Her soft touch was electrifying. I felt an almost overwhelming desire to touch her, to taste her lips, to run my hands along her seductive curves. I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach that led to a physical stirring in my pants. And then I remembered that Charlie was my best friend going back to middle school. Unable to justify any action that would hurt him, I boxed up all those feelings and locked them away.

Oblivious to my churning feelings, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and went back to the reception. It wasn't long until she joined a spirited group laughing and enjoying themselves. Within minutes she was smiling and conversing as if nothing happened. Cara was never defined by Charlie's actions.

By accident, Cara backed into an empty tequila bottle on his nightstand. My attention to the job at hand snapped back into focus. The first bottle knocked against another. Both fell over on the hard wood with a clank and crash, shattering the hushed silence we were trying to maintain. I heard Charlie groan and rustle about in his chair, trying to get up. Cara's eyes locked with mine, both of us frozen in terror. My instincts kicked into action, and I bolted out of the bedroom to run interference with Charlie. I needed to give Cara the opportunity to escape. Before I made it halfway back to his recliner in the living room, he collapsed and fell back into a stupor.

I rushed back to the bedroom to give Cara the all-clear sign. We collided as she was hastening to escape. She had her duffel bag slung over her shoulder and a couple of last items still in hand. She dropped it all as her body crashed against mine. By instinct I wrapped my arms around her as she rebounded off my greater mass to prevent her from falling.

I stood there, holding her in my arms for several seconds. I struggled to regain my composure. I caught a whiff of the same delicate scent she had at the wedding reception. Her red eyes were dry, having spent the night crying, but were now completely out of tears. Still, she was beautiful. Even through the baggy clothes I could feel her firm body pressing against mine. We lingered longer than otherwise in a different situation. The awkward moment passed, and I lifted my hands to her shoulders. "Are you ok?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm good. Let me grab a few more things and I'll get out of here."

As she turned back to gather her things, I felt all the same feelings that I had at the wedding reception. I felt the same longing, the ache to hold her and taste her lips. But now it was so much more than a physical attraction. I wanted to protect her and never let Charlie, or anyone, ever hurt her again.

I looked back at Charlie and watched his long, slow, steady breathing. He was not waking up any time soon. "Hey," I said. "You can take as long as you need. He's out."

"He's been out for a long time Martyn," she said. "I should have left months ago." Instinctively her hand went up to her cheek where he had struck her.

"I should have said something to him when he first started to fall apart" I said.

"You may be his last hope to pull out of this spiral," she said. "I thought I could save him, bring him back, but he started to only see me as a fuck doll."

I grimaced at hearing her frank comments. She shook her head and continued. "I let him treat me that way. I encouraged it. At first, he would clean himself up so that he could enjoy our lovemaking. It didn't take long before that went away, and he got mean. Mean and nasty."

She shocked me with her candidness. We were friends, but not the kind of friends that shared dark secrets. "How did he get mean?"

"He would get drunk and then overpower me. Sometimes he would come home late, drunk, and horny. I would wake up with him pulling off my pajamas, groping me and then trying to get into me, either hole, he didn't care. Most of the time he had whiskey dick, so that didn't work out so well. But then he would get angry.

"A couple of months ago I had enough. I started sleeping with the bedroom door locked. He would bang on it, promise to be better, cry, yell, and curse me out. But I stopped letting him near me when he was drinking, which was most of the time by then."

"I'm so sorry. If I had known--"

"What? What could you have done? I did think about calling you. You might have been able to get through to him, but he wasn't your problem. And one thing I got good at was plastering on a smile and acting like everything was great.

"Women have been covering up for abusive men forever," she continued. "I never thought I would do it."

I lowered my head, unable to look at her as I spoke. "I would have stepped in, Cara. You couldn't know this, but I would do anything for you."

She laughed. "How could I not know? After that night at the wedding, you almost never came around anymore. And when you did, you always made sure to keep Charlie as a barrier between us.

"But then I would catch you looking at me. You were the poster boy for lovesick. It was hard not to reach out to you. The last few months have been so scary... and lonely."

Cara leaned in and put her head to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her with care in case she decided to stop. but she did not push herself away. She lost any concern for Charlie's feelings over the last few months. In a few moments I no longer cared about protecting his fragile pride either.

Instead, she dropped the duffel bag onto the carpet and wrapped her arms around my waist. She turned her face up, parting her lips. I pulled her tighter into me and put my lips to hers. I tasted the sweetness of her breath and felt the soft press of her kiss for several moments. Enraptured, our lips parted and she intertwined her tongue with mine.

We were not horny teenagers groping and pawing at each other. Still we fumbled about undressing each other. With Charlie only a room away, the danger and thrill of getting caught was electrifying. I slid my hands under her hoodie and rubbed her toned back. Her willing submission and the feel of her hot flesh invited me to remove the top. I lifted the formless grey hoodie up to reveal her pert breasts. They were little more than a handful, tipped with soft pink aureoles.

I wore only a t-shirt and some tight, faded Levi's. She lifted my shirt up as well and then slid her open hands across my chest and down my sides. I lifted my t-shirt over my head. She paused a moment to admire my muscular body. I'm not a gym guy, but I work construction and it keeps me fit and tan.

I jumped a little when she leaned in and took a gentle bite at my left nipple. She smiled and leaned back in to flick it with her tongue.

Before long, her hands were working to unhook my belt and the button of my jeans. She had a bit of difficulty, but then she worked them open and slid them down to my thighs. She struggled to get them over the thick bulge of my stiffening cock. She lifted her arms above her head and I helped her remove her top. I also took a moment to appreciate her beautiful body. The sweatpants were loose and riding low, revealing the alluring flare of her waist. Unable to resist, I pushed the sweats down and she stepped out of them. I smiled to see that she wore pale pink "granny" panties covered with little white bunnies. It was clear she came over expecting trouble -- she dressed for combat. The old-fashioned underwear showed off the beautiful roundness of her firm ass. I delighted to see a shadow of pubic hair concealed behind the thin cotton. The stiffening of my penis intensified.

Within another minute we were both naked. I pulled her in tight, our bodies pressed together. I nuzzled into her neck, kissing and nibbling her ears and throat. She moaned and began to explore my body. She reached around and cupped my butt cheeks. With a firm grip she squeezed them and pulled me in closer. My engorged cock pushed up and pressed against her belly. Pushing and pulling on my ass cheeks, she made the underside of my cock slide up and down on her taut belly. I felt the familiar body-clenching tightness from the edging that the rubbing initiated.

It is rare for me to cum too soon, but I would not last long doing this. Sensing this, she stepped back and pushed my shoulders up against the door frame. My body arched, with my pulsing member jutting out, bouncing up and down with the beating of my heart. She raked her fingernails down my chest and stomach as she knelt before me.

Cara took a moment to look over my length and girth. Considering my 6'2" height, broad shoulders, and narrow waist, it is fair to say that my size is proportional. With my penis engorged, she needed to use both hands to grab the length before sliding her lips over the tip.

She started slow, taking in the swollen head of my circumcised dick. Her tongue lolled about the head. Flashing a playful smile, she scraped it with her teeth. Then she began in earnest. She sucked, kissed, and licked along the length and circumference. Using her saliva, she lubricated me. She worked my cock with quick, aggressive strokes. She enveloped the tip of my penis with her mouth, sliding it deeper with every effort, taking in more.

I watched her every move. The pleasure she gave me was marvelous, but the way she looked kneeling before me was breathtaking. Her back arched and ass jutted out in an awe-inspiring display of physical beauty. It called to me, and I salivated at the thought of tasting her, teasing her, and bringing her to climax.

As if acknowledging my gaze, she reached for the knot keeping her hair up. She pulled out the two chopsticks that held it together and tossed them onto her bag. Her silky auburn locks cascaded over her shoulders and down to the midpoint of her back. Her hair swayed in rhythm as she moved her head forward and back, sucking and stroking my cock. The movement of her hair and the way it caught the light further enchanted me.

I've never had a woman take much more than half of my length in her mouth, but Cara seemed determined to take it all. She took in more of my length with each thrust, forcing my cock harder against the back of her throat. She coughed and sputtered as she tried to force my cock into her throat time and again. I resisted every temptation to force my cock deeper into to her. If it was to happen, it was going to be her achievement, although I was the lucky recipient of the pleasure.

She worked at it with fierce determination. Unfortunately, not every goal is achievable. She seemed almost tired of trying, but then she made one final attempt. Her kneeling posture relaxed and she closed her eyes. With a powerful effort, she pushed my cock past her barrier and deep into her throat.

She celebrated by forcing herself down to the root and smashing her face against my crotch. As she did this, she scraped her fingernails across my taint. She scratched and teased me from my puckered asshole to the base of my scrotum. The new experiences and sensations I felt were indescribable. I was further astonished to feel her pull back and push forward. She moved slow at first, and then faster as I began to meet her thrusts with my own. I plunged my full length into and out of her throat. Unable to resist, I entwined my fingers into her hair and around the back of her head. I pulled her toward me with every thrust. With my other hand I reached down to hold her throat in the palm of my hand. The sensation of feeling my cock sliding back and forth in her throat was amazing. She gasped for breath when she could, unwilling to stop.

I soon felt the familiar surge of pleasure that preceded cumming and attempted to pull back. She withdrew me from her throat but still held my cock in her mouth. Still she sucked and stroked with feverish intensity. Despite my best efforts to resist, I was unable to hold back any longer. I released a torrent into her waiting mouth. She gulped and swallowed as much as she could. She sputtered and gagged at the sheer quantity of semen she coaxed out of me. The milky fluid burst out around her lips and ran down her chin, dripping onto her chest. She continued to milk me for far longer than I thought possible. When she pulled away, Cara sat back and looked up at me. She flashed a wicked smile as she ran her tongue around her lips, lapping up the hot fluid.

I fell back against the doorframe, dizzy and drained, struggling to catch my breath. After a few moments I regained enough strength to reach down and assist Cara to stand. She fell against me, also breathing heavy, and we held each other until our heads cleared. She looked up into my eyes and pulled me down for a deep, unexpected, passionate, tongue entwined kiss. At first I was uncomfortable at the thought of tasting my own semen in her mouth. However I was unwilling to pull away, I a saltiness that was soon replaced by the familiar sweetness of her breath. I also knew that soon she would be tasting her own pungent juices on my tongue, fingers, and cock.

Cara had put so much passion into sucking me off there was no way to not reciprocate. I resolved to bring her to orgasm with my tongue and fingers as a preface to fucking her. My own member, depleted from unleashing a full load into Cara's mouth, used the respite to recover.

I swapped places with her and turned her around. She used the door frame to hold herself steady, bent at the waist with her tight little ass thrusting out. Kneeling, I grabbed her hips, and buried my face into her pussy from behind. With her legs spread wide, I lapped, sucked, and kissed at her labia, moistening her pussy with my spit. When it was good and wet, I reached around with my right hand and slid my fingers into her the slit between her pussy lips. Her clitoris responded to my light touch. Soon she began to undulate side-to-side and moan. I increased the firmness with which I worked on her clitoris. She moaned louder and pushed her ass out further. I buried my face deeper between her ass cheeks and continued lapping at her engorged pussy.

Soon I tasted her vaginal secretions bathing my tongue. I continued to lap at her from behind, mixing my saliva with her secretions to lubricate her pussy. Every time I would pull back for a quick breath, I dragged my tongue back and across her puckered asshole. I would wiggle the tip of my tongue into her sphincter for a moment. At first when I did this move she let out a nervous laugh, almost ashamed to admit that it was pleasurable. After a half-dozen times, the nervous laughter became a little extra 'mmmmm' among the moans.