Corruption of a Geek Goddess Pt. 04

"Then I'm filling you up, Princess."

"Okay, yes... fuck yes... that's good... oh god that's so good..."

Without further delay Dylan let himself tip over the edge; leaning forward, his thrusts sped up to a manic and brutal rhythm that forced Chelsea's face all the way down onto the floor, her cheek smushed against the carpet as her hips tilted up off the mattress to better receive his gift; her pussy shuddered in anticipation. Then she heard the urgent grunts coming from deep within her dominant mate, and she knew it was starting. The words spilled out of her so easily:

"Ohhh, god yes: Breed me, Daddy! Please, I want it..."

Dylan hilted himself inside, leaning forward, letting her shoulders on the ground take his weight. She felt his cockhead inside her swell and jump, felt the delicious warm pressure of his seed pooling against her cervix — taking her over, converting her, owning her in the only way that really matters. Chelsea's body responded with another small orgasm. Her soul whimpered in joy, and her thirsty womb convulsed to draw her lover's cum deeper, faster, following the pull of gravity to flow down, only down.

Dylan could virtually feel it all happening: "Fuck yes... this is mine — Unh! — it's mine... you're mine..."

"... yes... yes, yours... oh god... all yours..."

***

A minute later Dylan helped her up and they collapsed back onto the bed, Chelsea's head resting on his muscular chest, her leg thrown over his. There might be time for another round before she had to return home to Mark, but that seemed impossible. Right now, all she could do was lie still and try to recover.

"Oh my god, Dylan" she muttered. "Ha, I mean: oh my GOD. What was that?"

"That," he said, "was why you came over tonight. Did you like it?"

"Mmmmm... oh yes, Daddy: I loved it. Thank you so much." She planted a soft kiss on his chest. "I loved it, I loved it, I loved it. I..."

She caught herself, bit her tongue — she wanted to say more, and nearly had. In any other circumstance, she knew, this was the moment when she would go further. This was the moment when she would tell him: I love you. The words would come so easily now; in fact it was a struggle to choke them back. Instead she merely closed her eyes, held him tighter, and whispered: "I loved it so much, baby..."

/**********/**********/

Chelsea

I snuggled with Dylan for another hour or so, just being lovey-dovey, relishing the feel of him. Before I had to get up, I slid down the mattress and gave him a tender, intimate blowjob as a thank-you; it made me so happy just to worship him. Then I went and took a quick shower, leaving no trace of the mess he'd made between my legs — just in case Mark keeps track of my cycle, I didn't want him to know what a bad girl I'd been.

I started my drive home in a daze. If breathalyzers could test for something besides alcohol I'd be in real trouble, because I was still seriously cock-drunk: floating, distracted, blissed-out from my tips to my toes.

But then around the halfway point of the drive, the real world started creeping up on me. This is when that brief little episode of guilt & shame I talked about began. My mind was going a mile a minute. I asked myself so, so many questions, and realized that I had almost none of the answers. I can't even begin to describe my state of mind during those twenty minutes... but, what the hell, let's take give it a shot:

Oh my God, Chelsea: that was too fucking hot tonight. Why was it so good? Why did you react so strongly? Did you really agree to stop fucking Mark like that? And are you actually going to stick to that agreement? You know you don't have to, right? You can just tell Dylan whatever he wants to hear and no one's the wiser. It's easy... so then, why do you hate that idea so much? Is it seriously just because it makes your pussy drool to obey Daddy? That's a terrible reason... even if it is brain-meltingly hot. Fuck, are you really gonna do it? I mean... yeah. Yeah, I think you are. But what do you tell Mark? Say nothing, step up your blowjob game, and hope he doesn't notice? Tell him the truth, and hope he gets off on it? Pretend it was your kinky idea, instead of something Dylan decided for us? You'd better figure that out.

Why did you let him cum inside you? Why did you love it so much? Why are you smiling right this fucking second as you think about it? Why don't you regret it — like, at all — even now? And isn't that the Rite Aid you just passed, Chelsea? Are you gonna turn around and get some Plan B? Because Dylan really did breed the shit out of you at the worst (best) possible time (drool). Like, that's literally a thing that happened... so maybe turn the car around? Ugh, forget it, you're too wiped, can't deal with this right now. You just need to get back home, back to Mark, and you can go pick some up tomorrow. Don't forget!

Oh, and why were you ever-so-close to blurting out that you loved him? You don't, do you? I mean... no. No, it was just the moment. You're smitten, maybe even a tiny bit infatuated, but that's not the same thing. Really it's a simple case of sex-brain: post-coital oxytocin flooding your synapses and fucking with your emotions. That's all. So thank god you didn't say it out loud... even if you were feeling it, just for a minute there.

Shit. Is this getting out of hand? No. Or, maybe? Just a little? No! Come on, you're worrying too much. Don't ruin this for us. It's scary, but scary is the whole point! Scary is why it's fun. And you're almost done! Less than a month to go. So just chill out. Chill out, and check in with Mark. If something's wrong, if it's too much... he's the one who can tell you.

That's when I pulled into the driveway. Sounds fun, right?

Yeah, no. But just walking in and seeing my fiancé again washed away so much of that mental strife. There he was, right where I left him, still happy & horny & glad to see me. I remembered that he was the man I was in love with — that no matter how I may or may not feel about Dylan on any given day, it doesn't change how I feel about Mark. Not in any way that matters.

It was late and he had that look in his eyes, so I took him right to bed and stripped us down. I snuggled up against his side, took hold of his hard dick, and started sloooowly working it with my hand.

"Did you miss me while I was gone, honey?"

"Of course I did, in the worst way..."

"Oh no, I'm sorry about that, baby. Did you at least enjoy that video you got?"

"You know I did..."

"Dylan wasn't too mean to you, the things he said?"

"No, it's fine, it was... it was hot. Just the right amount of mean." I chuckled at that.

"Good! I'm glad." I leaned in to whisper into his ear. "But you know... Dylan was a little mean to me, too."

"Fuck. He was?" Mm-hmm. "How was he mean, Chelz?"

"Oh it was torture, babe — he teased me, toyed with me. He made me beg for it, made me earn it. He wouldn't give me what I wanted until I proved I deserved it... until I showed him how he owns me."

"Oh, fuck, Chelz. How—"

"And I begged him, baby, I really did. Your girl laid there and begged to cum, begged for his big fucking cock. It was so bad, but I didn't care. I just needed it, more than anything. And when it was finally enough, when he got what he wanted... oh, honey, darling... he ruined my kitty, cracked it in fucking two, wrecked it for all time... he wrecked this pussy he owns and made me cum so hard I passed out."

"God... you really passed out?"

"Yes, honey, really. He made me pass out. He made me fucking cry. Oh god, baby: Dylan broke me tonight. He fucking broke your girl. I have NEVER been fucked like that, not by anyone, not ever..."

"Jesus, Chelz! I'm gonna — wait, just let me..." Mark tried to reach over and grab a condom — moment of truth. I stopped him, tightened my grip on his shaft, and started working it with purpose.

"Shhh, lie still babe — I told you, Dylan already took care of that for us, and my sore little kitty's all smashed up... I need you to cum, I need to see it... do it, cum for me, cum for your naughty girl who begs for cock. Show me how proud you are to send me to him, show me how much you like that I'm a slut, that I'm his slut, that my pussy fucking belongs to him and he does whatever he fucking wants w—"

That did it. Mark groaned like a wounded animal and fired a nice big load all over my fingers and his stomach. Mmmm, not bad, babe — when this is all over I might need that inside me after all. But, for now...

***

We got cleaned up then snuggled under the covers, ready for bed. After the night I'd had I was physically and emotionally exhausted and I just wanted to sleep. But I couldn't. Now that our sexual high had worn off and I was just lying there next to my perfect, loving boyfriend, the angst and self-doubt I'd felt in the car came flooding back. I had to say something.

So that was when, with a lump in my throat, I checked with Mark and asked if he wanted to stop our games early. Of course, I didn't tell him the reasons I suddenly felt compelled to ask, and you might think that makes me a coward — you might think that makes me a lot of things — but I couldn't do that to him. He already knows all the important stuff, and he likes it the same as me. The rest would just weigh him down with my own intrusive thoughts and ruin the next month for both of us. And besides, that stuff, I can handle on my own.

Anyway, Mark said he wanted to keep going, that he hadn't even been tempted to "smash the Abort button." In fact he was surprised I asked, so probably I really am stressing over nothing. In spite of everything, the only thing that seemed to worry him was that *I* might be upset, and I just love him to pieces for that. It was so sweet that I got a little choked up as we snuggled in the dark.

But before I could drift off to sleep, a whole slew of new thoughts came barging into head; they were very different from the ones I suffered through in the car.

Oh, Chelsea Chelsea Chelsea. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have him? Think of all the things he's seen the past two months, all the things you worried might anger him: your lover's diabolical taunts, your slutty new wardrobe, wearing Dylan's charm bracelet like it's a damn promise ring, guest-starring on his channel, seeing him more and more often, spending whole nights in his bed... and Mark is still fine with it, still happy. You gave him a chance to get out, and in return he gave you his blessing, implicitly, for all of it. He's amazing...

Although, seriously: HOW can he be fine with this? I really thought I understood it, but the more time spent around Dylan, it's like... why doesn't Mark have that primal urge to possess you? To protect his mate against interlopers? What, does he not care enough? Is he just too, you know... weak?

Shit, no: knock it off, Chelsea! That's not fair. But, whatever it is, he is SO unlike Dylan. (Dylan, who wants to stop his casual fuck buddy from having sex with her own fiancé... and is able to make it happen.) With the shit you get up to, Mark should be going out of his damn mind with jealousy. But instead, the further you go the more he likes it. You haven't even found his limits yet! Maybe you should. You've got four weeks to go, a nice safe deadline, and a kinky submissive boyfriend who wants you to keep playing: why not make the most of this? Stop worrying, and just let yourself go while you still can. It's what he really wants anyway.

"Mmmm," I muttered under my breath, "okay."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just talking to myself."

I hugged him tighter; in the dark, he couldn't see my smile.

_______________*_______________

Thanks for reading! If you liked the story, if you have any thoughts, please let me know by voting or commenting — whether it's a thoughtful critique or a simple "good job," comments from readers are extremely important and sincerely appreciated. I take feedback on my stories seriously, and I try to respond to questions & ideas in the comments. You can find more contact info on my profile. (Join me on Discord to see Chelsea in the fishnet body stocking...)

I'm truly hoping to be able wrap up the story with one more chapter, but it could take a while — there will be some, ahem, tricky emotional developments to work through, and something tells me the wedding day (and night) might be kind of a long scene.

Questions for discussion: If Chelsea told Mark everything instead of hiding the worst bits, would he shut it down? Could he? Or would he find it hot enough that she could convince him to keep going in some way? How realistic is it that Mark & Chelsea might go back to long-term monogamy after the wedding? Was there a particular line (or lines) in this chapter you found especially hot? Which is your favorite scene from the whole series so far?