Faultless Pt. 02

He slowed down for my cum-down (pun intended) but he didn't stop. Instead, he pulled at the butt plug and lubed up my hole some more. The cold lube made me squeal but I could barely move an inch to get away, so I just took it until his use of the toy to fuck my arse warmed my hole enough.

"Do you see how sexy you are now?" Mike asked once I was coherent enough to look around and beg for more.

I could have bashfully shrugged or blushed, but I didn't. He made me feel so sexy that I couldn't deny it. "Yes," I answered with conviction.

"I love you Lily," he gushed to the woman restrained underneath him with her holes filled.

"Okay," I agreed, grinding back into him for pleasure, "this is a very good fantasy," I grinned, staring straight ahead. "But I do have something that'll make it better."

I looked around and saw the passion in his warm brown eyes. "Oh?"

I smirked, I was going to regret saying this but at the same time, it was all I wanted. "You could make it a lot better by just relentlessly pounding me until you're finished, and not worry about me."

He looked at me and I could see how enticing that offer sounded. "Red means stop, and amber means slow, okay?"

I nodded. "Good boy, you know your colours," I teased, wanting to antagonise him. "Do you understand what I mean right now when I say green, green, green?"

He took the bait and growled, "so be it."

If he was fucking me before, he was hammering me this time. When my next orgasm started to build, I was almost embarrassed by how turned on I was from his roughness. It was relentless pounding from an extremely fit, strong man, into a woman who was inches shorter than him and quite significantly smaller in stature. The imagery alone was driving me crazy, as was the state I was getting into. I was sweating all over from taking him, alternating between being fucked into silence and shouting my pleasure into the pillow.

It was the most intense amount of sexual pleasure I'd ever received. It was mind-numbingly good, where my brain thought of nothing; the pleasure in my body silenced my thoughts. Mike fucked me through an insane number of orgasms, it might have been five at the last count. My legs were cramping, and I was actually crying from the intensity of it all.

"I'm crying but I promise it's a good thing," I told him between sobs, as I couldn't have him stopping to check if I was okay. "Green, very green," I half-shouted in my haste to reassure him.

"You feel so good," Mike started to tell me after that, praising me in the objectifying way I needed it. "You're amazing and you're the best I've ever had."

I didn't know how much I needed to hear that until right then. That I was that good for someone in bed, for him.

"Tell me that some more," I begged him. I needed his praise so much right then because I wanted to admit something else too.

"Whatever you want, you get," he told me as I whimpered underneath him. He kept telling me how good I was as the fucking continued. He barely slowed down at all; it was unbelievable.

I took a deep, exhausted breath. Could I say it? Could I let herself go like that and just give myself to someone? My pussy and whatever part of my brain controlled my hormones, were begging me to.

"I promise you baby, I'll do anything you want whenever you want it," I cried out, releasing the floodgates, "I have no limits with you and I need you to know that," I pleaded.

Mike moaned and moved his body down, so he was completely on top of me, resting on his elbows either side of me. I was trapped underneath him and made to take his hard pounding. I screamed into the pillow, barely able to breath. He kissed my neck, covered in sweat. "I love you," he told me.

"Tell me you know I'm yours," I begged, "I need to hear you say it so I can cum." I knew I needed it, I needed to get to that place with him. The place I'd avoided for so long where I needed to be something so at-odds with who I was.

"You belong to me baby," he whispered into my ear. Those words made all the difference because even in his aroused state where excitement might have made him omit the crucial part, he knew it was only for him that I'd do this.

He kept building me to yet another orgasm but this one felt different. It felt like it was coming from deep inside me. I started to buck against my restraints to get away but his grip on my hips was too strong and he fucked me through whatever I was feeling mercilessly.

His words triggered me and with another deep thrust of his cock my orgasm burst from me, I screamed until his hand covered my mouth and his other hand pulled hard at my hair. "Oh fuck," I heard him say and he lifted off me, taking my upper body with him as he pulled at my hair. I felt myself push him out of me and then liquid followed. My mind clouded over, and I just felt it coming out of me as I moaned into his hand, shaking violently.

When my mind cleared somewhat, my whole body was sticky and wet. My back and front were covered in sweat but my legs, especially my thighs, were wet. "Oh God," I groaned. The science told me the squirting mess had mostly come from my bladder, but my body was telling me otherwise. I felt utterly spent but completely satisfied.

Mike was laying beside me, gently running a hand along my back while I recovered. The bondage tape had been cut away, I had felt him doing it while I was in a state of shock. The butt plug too had been removed; my holes felt empty.

"Are you okay to continue?" I asked him once I'd recovered enough, hoping he wasn't grossed out.

"Are you?" He laughed pulling at my arm gently so I could move around. I turned over and chanced a look down, aroused by what I saw.

"Just go slow and let me make you cum," I told him in the sexiest voice my exhausted body could manage.

He fucked me in a range somewhere between making love to me and using my hole as I told him to. It was the perfect middle ground and it let me drift into a state of bliss as I gave my man pleasure. When I felt his thrusts start to pick up pace and his breathing increase, I scrunched my eyes tight shut and asked him the question I wanted to know.

"Would it gross you out too much if I still wanted to clean you when you're done?" I knew what I'd be tasting; I was a mess down there. But that just made me want it more in my current headspace. I wanted so badly to push beyond my always-present fears of being judged and do what felt right in the moment. I always wanted to clean him, I always would.

He didn't reply. Instead, he put two of his fingers on my lips, requesting entry. I sucked them in and snapped my eyes open. "You never have to worry about that with me," he promised.

I continued sucking his fingers until he emptied inside of me. He sped up and held his fingers in my mouth as he groaned and unloaded inside me. I felt him flooding me and I sucked on his fingers relentlessly until he was finished, my eyes closed in pleasure.

When he pulled out, my hand covered my hole, and I kept it there as I somehow found the energy to go to my knees and suck him. He groaned yet again as I pleasured him, this time with my mouth. I tasted my mess and I shamelessly moaned around his cock. Then I went one better and licked my palm clean after I had finished cleaning him. I collapsed backwards, inadvertently falling onto the huge wet spot I made. It was still drying, and my hair further soaked it up. My hair that I loved and spent so much effort looking after.

"I'm a mess," I laughed giddily, my pussy still leaking his cum. You're alive, Lils.

I felt him leave the room while my eyes were still closed, and I could hear the distant sound of taps running. He returned a couple of minutes later and announced his presence with a kiss on my forehead.

I opened my eyes and saw him holding two glasses - one filled with water, the other empty. "Spit and then swallow," he quipped. I rinsed my mouth first, spitting into the empty glass and then drunk the rest of the water that remained.

When I was done, he put them down (those glasses were really piling up on my bedside table and I tried not to notice) and lifted me up in his arms. I giggled like the cute little thing he made me feel like in his arms and let him carry me to my bathroom, where a warm bath was running with a soothing bath bomb melding its colours into the clear water. I could smell lavender and camomile.

I cleared him out of the room and emptied my bladder to prevent any UTIs and then I brushed my teeth. When I opened the door back up, I'd expected him to have gone to change the sheets, but he was waiting patiently outside.

He followed me back into the room, helped me and my shaking legs into the bath and then to my surprise, proceeded to bathe me gently. He washed me down with a cloth, applying care to every touch. He lovingly shampooed my hair and even put conditioner in. When I was freshly clean, he helped me out, dried me off and took me to the sofa, where he made me a cup of tea, kissed me and left me to have a shower and change the bed. Who the fuck does that after what I just did?

I knew I was in love with him but as I sat there drinking my tea, I reflected that I'd just fallen for him to a whole new level. Moreso, if he could take care of me so lovingly after what we just did, I had no doubt his feelings matched my own.

***

It got to the point where I had no choice but to tell my Mum I was seeing Mike. I was spending more time with his family, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that I was holding back on my side. Mike never pushed me, but he'd stopped with the little hints about meeting my Mum which told me he knew there was an issue. For all of my talk about not caring what anyone thought, I think he was starting to doubt that was true. What he didn't understand was that I was putting it off because I knew it would go badly and I knew what I'd end up needing to do. Sometimes I hated being right.

I spent all day at work with a pit of dread for dinner that evening. Only Amy was free to join me after work for some liquid courage. We stopped after a glass of wine each and it wasn't until we were walking to the station that she asked me why I was so anxious about seeing my Mum for dinner.

"She's never liked Mike," I explained, having never admitted it out loud before. "She's never outright said it that way, but she always used to get a look when I'd bring him up in conversation."

"Why?" Amy questioned, rightly perplexed. There was no logical reason beyond it being what she had always been like. If she felt I could do better - be it friends or relationships, she'd let me know about it. Maybe that was part of the reason I'd left university friendless. Amy filled the silence with more questions. "You were only ever friends, right? Does she know about the kiss?"

"God no!" I replied at once. If my Mum had known that Mike had kissed me all those years ago, it would have proven her point, in her mind at least.

I took the train towards the southern edge of London, passing the stop that I used to get off at to see my gran. It hurt that I no longer had any reason to get off at that stop and instead kept going for another few minutes until I got to my Mum's station. Painful in a different way.

I'd only spent my teenage years in this terraced house; the house my Mum had bought with the proceeds of the divorce. Because of the way it had come into my life and the memories associated with it, it had never felt like home. After university I couldn't wait to move into my own place and ever since, I only felt like a guest here. There was a 'guest room' upstairs rather than 'Lily's old bedroom' even though I was the only one that had ever slept in there, which spoke volumes.

I let myself in, hung my coat up and found my Mum in the kitchen peeling carrots. She kissed me on the cheek, looking tired and slightly harassed, so I picked up the peeler and helped her. We talked about our day and how we were doing, at a very surface-level. My Mum rarely spoke about actual feelings, and I still cringed when I thought about the time I had told her I was sad about her & dad divorcing. She'd got YouTube up on the computer and played charity adverts that had been on tv across the last few years - the ones of poor, starving children around the world - and told me that's what I should be sad about.

When dinner was made - sausages, mash & veg, we didn't talk and instead watched the news, which we always did while I was growing up. It was where I'd found my dream to work in that area. It was an exciting escape from the dull silence between the three of us and eventually, two of us. Calling the news exciting probably says a lot about how depressing my evenings were.

"Don't you like your sausages?"

I looked over. I'd given up telling her I was vegetarian and that sausages having onion or leek in them didn't count if there was meat in them too. I'd got through one but left the other two and cleared the veg and mash instead. "They were nice, I just liked the other bits more."

"This is how you stay so slim," she flattered with a smile.

"Mike & I are dating," I blurted out.

I watched as she paused, almost trying to remember who Mike was, as though it must have been someone else and it couldn't be who she thought. Then her face gained a look of shock on it, and she recoiled slightly.

"Mike Davies, who looks like he's got more demons with him than an exorcist?"

"Jesus, Mum," I gasped, "What the hell?"

It only got worse from there, as she character-assassinated the man I loved. He was an idiot, he was unambitious, what he had in muscle, he lacked in brains, he'd never be able to support me. I would spend my life trying to lift him to my level and fall into despair when I couldn't.

"When I spoke to him at the funeral and you ran over like a cat coming for milk, it was so abundantly clear that he didn't want to be there. Like he was too good for a funeral," she scoffed.

Why do you think I went running over, with you thinking this about him? "He'd just come back to the country, he was at a funeral, and he knew nobody, did you expect him to be cheery?"

She moved on to her next attack line. "What's he doing now then? Instagram personal fitness?"

"He's got a job at an engineering company, he's doing really well," I promised. The conversation was slipping so badly out of my control. She was making him seem like a deadbeat. "He has his own place; he's got a good life." My answers weren't helping. All my Mum was hearing was that this deadbeat was on a slightly upward trajectory.

She decided to change tack the more I defended him and the more she realised I cared about him. It went from aggressive to compassionate, as though she was just trying to help me see sense.

"In a couple of years, you could be producing your own show. Having support from someone like Benjamin, who's smart and already running something, would have got you there. I just don't want you to spend time with someone who's not on your level, have things go wrong in a few months and then your heart is full of regret and your career is damaged. For what? To indulge a little curiosity with the big, strong army man? Think of what you're doing Elizabeth."

I felt the crippling vocal paralysis that I always had when my Mum got going like this and I knew there was no way to win. This was just another moment in the years of her telling me why she was always right and why whatever she said was only in my best interests. I said nothing, I just took it, hoping she'd run out of steam soon. But telling her I was with Mike seemed to just energise that side of her like taking a match to touch paper.

"And what am I going to say to my cousins, huh? Do I apologise that he left their daughter to be with mine? Do I warn the other women in the family that he's coming for them next?"

"Mum!" That was a comment I couldn't take. "Chloe & I have spoken about it and it's fine. They broke up months before we got together and honestly when it comes to what they think, I don't care." I finished my statement with a finality that put her into momentary silence.

"I care!" She snarled. It was such an ugly look that I couldn't believe a mother was looking at her daughter like that.

I jumped up and stormed off to the bathroom, fighting back tears. You are not going to spend another evening crying in this house, Lily. I took some deep, steadying breaths and fished my phone from the pocket of my jeans. There was a message from Mike on it.

Mike: Hope you're having a good evening my love. My family meal's lovely but I miss you. Sad we're not spending the night together x

I shakily tapped out a reply after splashing my cheeks with water.

Lily: Having a good evening here too, I love you lots x

I walked back into the kitchen a few minutes later, when I was sure I could do what I needed to do. My Mum was washing dishes as though nothing had happened. As though her daughter hadn't just stormed off close to tears.

"Lily," she said when she saw me, putting the plate down and extending her arms. "I hate it when we fight." It was like two different people, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"No!" I shouted, putting my arm out between us. She'd stopped dead at my shout, so I put my hand back down and used it to lean on the dining chair for support. "You don't get to keep doing this. Not with him."

She looked confused, as though she couldn't understand what was wrong. My therapist was going to have a field day with this tomorrow. The topic would be no surprise to her, given my Mum was the reason I needed therapy in the first place. An absent father, a strict and impossible-to-please Mother, textbook.

"I love him," I told her softly but firmly. Her face fell as though her worst nightmare was coming true. "I'm not telling you to ask for your blessing or your permission or anything like that. I'm telling you because you ought to know that he's the person I'm going to marry and have children with."

"Lily," came the whispered reply. "Are you--"

"No!" I cut in. "Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure. As though I can't make my own decisions."

I walked back towards the front door and put my boots on. Mum followed me with her washing gloves still on, dripping water along the carpet. It was almost comical. I put my coat on before I looked back at her.

"Don't make me choose."

I had walked to the train station without taking in anything around me and I was on the train for about 10 minutes before the ringing in my ears stopped. It took me a further few minutes to realise I had missed the interchange and was instead heading in the direction of Mike's house on autopilot.

He wasn't back when I got there so I let myself in and got into bed where I finally let myself cry. I'd been doing that more than normal recently, but I now saw it as a good thing. Being at a point where I was finally secure in my life meant that I had the strength to face some of the things I'd avoided for years. Tears were always going to follow, but doing the work was important.

I had so much still to work through with my parents and for the first time in a long time, I thought about making contact with my dad. Perhaps it was the fear of my mum not contacting me again that did it. I was determined not to contact her, so she knew my ultimatum was serious, but she was a stubborn woman too. My thoughts ran me in circles until I fell into a sleep.

I awoke with a start when Mike turned the bedroom light on and called out my name.

"What are you doing here?" I could see the worry come into his face as he looked at me and saw that I'd obviously been crying.

I didn't want to tell him, but he was also my partner in the truest sense of the word, and I didn't want to lie. When he sat next to me and put his arm on me with a look of concern, I couldn't stop myself. "Mum was quite bad about us being together. I know it's probably not great for you to hear that, she's just anxious I guess."