Curse of the Ex-Girlfriend Motif

Somewhere in the distance, I heard Joel growl. My mind raced to memories. Memories of the good times, better times, the best times. He's reclined in a handsome leather chair, naked. His larger, masculine hand works at his ever larger erection. His measurements never mattered. They were far beyond sufficient. His penis was coal hard, pink with the blood flow. He stroked himself and growled, like a great jungle cat he was. I had cum hard that night; my body brought to its greatest limits by his live sex show.

"So wet," Hilary cooed. She was atop me now, our breasts pressed together; the warmth of her heat emanating through me. "So delicious and so wet."

"I want to taste you now," I returned her affections. My fingers found her wet already, found her tight little virgin body responding to my touch. In that moment, I envied Joel. I envied that he alone would be the conqueror of this new land, and I simply a spectator to the discovery. I wanted to be her first, to break her gently and make her the woman that she already was. So I did what I could do, flipping her over and moving down the line of his lean body. Her ribs were apparent against her glowing skin. Her womanhood unshaven and wild with dark hair.

"You're so beautiful," she sobs softly as she nears her orgasm. The spasms, the muscle movements. I have this planned and I am in control. I know she is close. I want her to fall over the edge and taste abandon. "So soft," she cries and her voice vibrates with my caresses. "Blue!"

"I think I can play too now," Joel states softly. He's standing above us, staring down at our entangled flesh on display. He's lost a few articles of clothing since we last saw him in the light, namely, his t-shirt. An ugly thing emblazoned with the word "Fashioncore", I won't miss it. I love his chest, his muscles. His body that begs to be worshipped.

He's on the bed before she recovers, his hands exploring her body as we kiss. The kiss is deep and passionate, as though a day has not been lost between us. His tongue explores the crevices he already knows, the familiar tongue and bead of my piercing. He devours the known, but continues to search for any signs of the unknown. I lose myself in the search.

"Baby," Hilary whispers and I'm faintly aware of her breath at my cheek. "Share her with me, baby."

He opens to allow her access. The kiss becomes three. I taste her on him and me on her and him on me and all the combinations possible. This is my first three-way kiss. No doubt her's, as well. But something about his perfectly synchronized moves tells me that Joel knows what he's doing. He's played this game before. Likely, he's won.

Our entanglement seems to shift naturally, with Hilary falling back and Joel atop her. She discards his boxers, tosses them off to the dark. He places flutter soft kisses atop her breasts and nipples. His lips mesmerize me as they move, and I long to taste him yet again. But I wait my turn.

He works her softly, gently. A Joel I have never seen before. His touches caress her body knowingly, show his years of experience. He takes her close to the brink, then gently lets her down. So close, so far. So close, so far. She begs him to finish, begs him to bring her to finality. But instead, he teases. Teases her for thirty minutes like this. Forty five. An hour. I watch with rapt attention. Watch as her chests moves up and down, down and up. As his hands touch her 2,000 parts. As her legs wrap around his trim waist. As their bodies explore everything but that one pleasure that she has yet to have allowed herself. And when it seems like she can take no more- when I can take no more of this sensual dance- he looks to her questioningly and grins. The dimples appear. "Are you ready?"

She nods and takes my offered hand. Like the sacrifice to our love, she lays between us. Her head resting on my thigh, our fingers interlocked for support. She glances up into my voyeuristic eyes, as though for assurance that he will not break her, that she will survive this penetration. I promise her this with my eyes, and reassure her with a firm squeeze of her young breast. Her breaths are labored from his ministrations, but they grow shallow as he parts her legs further and kneels between. She stares up at him with curious longing; she wants him, wants this, but there is that first time jitter in her blood. The anxiety. The fear. The confusion.

"Do you want this?" he questions, carefully. Whether he is aware or not that this is, by law, a rape, he doesn't show. The most beautiful rapist in the world, and he's sure of himself.

"I want you," she whispers softly. "Joel, I want you so bad."

"Inside you?" he whispers in her ear.

"I want you inside me," she begs, her voice wavering.

I watch as he continues to place soft kisses on her lips, her nose, her eyelids. His erection is dangerously close to bisecting her most secret places. The tip of his manhood is already hidden inside her moist folds. I long to trade places with her right now, I long to be the deflowered virgin on the red silk sheets. But I am not Hilary, and Hilary will never be me. I was deflowered on 200 thread count cotton sheets from the local Walmart. At the tender age of eighteen. By this same man, who was then, an unsure teenager himself.

"Is it going to hurt?" she pleads, her eyes wide as she crushes the fragile bones of my right hand. "He's so big."

"He is big," I try to calm her fears with a gentle squeeze. "But he'll be gentle, sweetie. It won't hurt too bad. Maybe not at all."

"I won't hurt you," he promises her and nibbles softly at her ear. As he works his tongue over the lobe, he gently begins to penetrate her more deeply. To work more of his length inside her tight body. She moans at this, but gasps when he prods too much too fast. I don't have to see the act to know that he's forced too much of himself into her too quickly. Her unspoken words tell the story. She moves, as if to break away from him, and he grabs her shoulders. He smiles into her unsure eyes. "I'm sorry, baby doll. Did that hurt you?"

She nods hesitantly. She seems to want my reassurance. A reassurance I cannot rightly give to her. She's at his mercy for the moment. "It feels weird. How much....more?"

He tosses his head back at this and laughs. Not his usual ridiculously un-masculine giggle; but a braying, harsh laugh that gives me shivers. "We're not close, hon. Not close at all."

Hilary looks like a doe about to meet its final arrow. She nods but she is not the steady, certain woman she was earlier. I feel the need to intervene on her behalf, and offer her a simple out. "Are you in pain?" I question. "Hilary, he can stop at any time."

"It just...feels strange," she acknowledges and shuts her eyes. "I'm okay, I'm just nervous."

"Relax," he pleads, massaging her shoulders now. "If you're relaxed, it will feel so much better."

Her eyes open for a quick glance at his jaw, and then she shuts them again tightly. "I'm alright. Go deeper." Again, like the Stepford of earlier.

He exhales and inches his hips forward, meeting the resistance that we both knew was there. She lets out a slight mew at his soft prodding, and grips my hand tighter with each poke. He grins up at me knowingly. "This will hurt a bit," he says, voice distant as he thrusts his hips forward. No grace period.

She screams. Her entire body seems to attempt a revolt as she screams for him to stop. To pause. To wait. To go slower. To pull out. He simply pauses with a sly smile as she collects herself and tries to take back the tears forming in the corners of her stunning eyes. My view of the show is unparalleled; the heat inside my body is begging to be unleashed. Soon, Blue, soon. It will be my turn soon.

"This really hurts," she holds back a sniffle. "Joel, this really hurts. I don't think that-"

"What?" he challenges. To prove his power, he thrusts inside her deeper.

Tears well in her beautifully naïve eyes. "It hurts too much, Joel. I can't...it hurts."

"It's supposed to hurt," he argues.

"I don't want this, please pull out," she directs. He disobeys. She shoves at his chest and remains solidly in place.

To stop an actual rape from occurring, I prod him away from her lithe body. "Joel, if she doesn't want to, she doesn't want to." I relocate myself behind him, tugging softly at his hips. He withdraws from her and she cries with the pain. He's hard, painfully hard and covered in her virgin blood.

She scoots away from us, allowing me the space that I require for my next move. A calculated move. I push him onto his back where Hilary just was, and envelope him quickly with my lips. Some would mind the blood, I do not. As I said, I am a vampire at heart. I graze my teeth softly across his erection and he roars. He's fisting the comforter and growling like a tiger in heat.

She watches from the corner, eyes wide with a mix of horror and envy. She's naked, a slight patch of blood on her inner thighs. Her tears have stopped and we have her attention. So I make a show of slurping loudly, of working him inside my mouth. Of twirling my tongue and making him moan. I make him beg, I make him plead. I watch her beg with her eyes for a finale. She wants an end to this night that, somehow, went so terribly far from what she had planned.

"Do you mind, Hilary?" I question as I quickly straddle his lap. He grabs my hips and immediately tugs downward. I do my best to hold him off until she nods slowly, and then I sink all the way down. "Oh god, Joel," I moan louder than necessary. This is about giving a performance. About being lude. "Oh fuck me with your big, hard cock!"

It takes no prodding. He flips me quickly and thrusts deep. I scream with pleasure and rake my long nails across his tattooed back. I'm greeted with another growl. And the addition of extra weight on the bed. Hilary lies beside me and watches with awe. "Doesn't that hurt you?"

"No."

"It feels good?"

"So good," I moan to elicit a rougher response from Joel's hips. He delivers with a resounding enthusiasm.

"Maybe I need to try again?" she questions timidly.

I turn my attention to her and do my best to converse. Being fucked roughly and conversation never went well together in my book. I grin. "Do you want him back?"

"Fuck," he groans. "I can't fucking last like this."

She considers the offer and nods slowly, nervously. I motion Joel away, push him back into the sheets and lie beside him. His cock points directly at the ceiling. Hilary's gaze is hungry, horny. She crawls toward him and looks to me. "What do I do?"

I direct her, holding him firmly in my fist. "Straddle him." She moves into position and I nod. "Like that. Perfect. Now, lower yourself slowly."

"Won't it hurt?"

"It might, but you're in control now. You don't have to take him all at once."

She nods and lowers herself til her pussy is pressed again my fist. I move lower to allow her to take more. She pauses, frustration written on the lines of her beautiful face. I like that she's unsure. It's a turn on for me. "Should I sit down?"

"You'll take all of him at once like that," I caution her. If she wants to sit down, she can be my guest. But I'm not advising it. Though her nod signals that she's received the memo and vetoed the action.

She sinks slightly lower, until her lips are again pressed against my hand. "I can feel you," she laughs. She's loosening up now, which is good. It's perfect, in fact. She's going to have to be relaxed if she intends to take all of him. "Move your hand down a little," she pleads and I do. She sinks lower until we touch again. "How much more?"

"Another handful and you'll be there," I state, licking my lips. If she can do this, I have a delicious plan. Just as my mind begins to write the XXX-rated version, she lowers herself and her perfectly little ass presses against his balls. Perfect. "How does it feel?" I ask.

She moves her hips in a semi-circle and giggles. "Better. I like this better."

For his part, Joel simply growls. His eyes are shut tight, and she is no doubt partially laughing at him lost in the throws of such pleasure. She must be tight. The way he's responding to her body, she must be milking him close to the edge. And I know just how to send him cascading into the falls. I reposition myself between his legs, and lick his balls softly. He groans and his muscles tense.

Hilary giggles. "That tickles!"

"Sorry," I laugh, but I continue to lavish oral attention on Joel's jewels. He rewards me with a loud roar, and I know what has just happened before Hilary jumps up and screams. I know he's come for me just as he always does.

She looks upset. "I didn't come yet!"

Ah, my girl! She learns so quickly. I laugh to myself, yes, she will learn.

"Fuck," he hisses. "You're so fucking tight, Hil. So fucking tight."

"I'll bet," I grin.

He recovers quickly to watch her pleasure herself atop the bed. She's putting on a slow show with her fingers and her flowing pussy. I would partake of her, but the voyeuristic aspect seems the better options. She coos for us, she moans. She milks herself to a screaming orgasm that amounts in an actual fluid release.

"Fuck," Joel stares at her through glassy eyes. "She's a squirter."

"You did this to me," she giggles at him. She wants him. Again. Inside her. I don't have to hear the words to know. "You made me so fucking wet, Joel."

He crawls over her and places soft kisses over her body. "So beautiful, Hilary. So beautiful. But I have to fuck Blue now."

"You already fucked Blue," she pleads. She sounds needy. Her legs wrap around his waist and practically force him back inside her. She coos softly. "Joel, please. I need you again."

"I need Blue," he argues, pulling away softly. "She can give me what I need."

Hilary's expression drops. "So can I."

"No," he instructs with a shake of his head. "Hil, you can't. I'll hurt you too bad."

And now I know what he wants. He wants what even I don't want to give; what will hurt even me. It does hurt, it hurts immensely. I don't want to give what he is about require of me, and I suddenly feel like the awkward virgin.

"Please?" she begs, raking her nails over the fresh wounds across his back. "Joel, please? I'll do anything you want. Just please, fuck me."

He shakes his head slowly and gently removes himself from her grasp. They're both still covered in random patches of pale red blood. He has deflowered her, and she is now the woman she longed to be. I almost feel that, as a woman, she should give what he is about to ask of me.

"Blue," he pleads softly, his eyes deep and filled with love. "Please?"

"No," I whisper, afraid.

"Please, Blue?" he questions and his eyes widen. He's kneeling beside me on the bedroom rug. A large, Asian inspired creation that keeps with the expensive theme. No doubt, they won't appreciate cum on their thousand dollar treasure. "Blue, only you," he begs. "Only you."

"No, Joel. No."

He drops his eyes and brings his hands up to caress my sides. Hilary is watching us closely, wondering what it is that she can't give him. He begs with his eyes. "Please, Blue? You know it brings me such pleasure."

"I want to do it for you," Hilary pleads. "Please, Joel. Let me."

He turns to her and smiles, but it's a sad, knowing smile. "I can't, Hilary. You're just a child."

The words seem to hang in the air for an eternity. Her once adoring brown eyes have gone stone cold as she gawks at Joel as though he were a leper. She storms off somewhere with the sound of a slamming door. It's uncomfortably tense. Joel has lost his erection. He stares at me and frowns. "I didn't mean to break her heart."

"You never mean to break hearts," I frown. "You just smile and do."

He nods. "I do."

I say nothing, mute once again.

"Blue?"

"Yes, Joel?"

"Please?"

I stare at him for a long time. I take in the laugh lines of his beautifully chiseled face. His mole. His chapped but gorgeously plush lips. His beautiful tattoos and the scars from his former piercings. These are the nuances about him that I love. That I will always love. But I have to break the cycle.