It Takes Two Pt. 02

"I want...what I'm feeling now." he began, his words starting slow and sluggish as he seemed to find an ore-rich deposit in his brain. His body relaxed a bit, sinking into the bench. "And I don't think it matters who it's with. I deserve to be happy. I don't deserve to just feel like someone's pillow, or someone's diary...I like what this weekends been. I've felt like...valued."

"You can have what we have!" I pleaded to him, my eyes welling up with his sincerity. "We can have this all the time. That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"What do YOU want though?" he asked. I wasn't sure what he meant. I wanted to date him. I wanted him to be mine; how much clearer could that be? Still I think he wanted me to sell myself to him, to show him this wasn't a lustful jump. Unsure, I just started saying whatever came to mind.

"I want...fancy dinner dates." I began. "I want ice cream after fancy dinner dates, and rough sex. I want nice lingerie to show off and Mickey Mouse t-shirts when I'm not. I want shitty jokes about fish and back and forth with the funniest guy I know."

Ken continued to listen on my every word, but I wouldn't be stopped even if he wasn't. I was feeling a swelling of emotions, that started out as something I assumed he wanted to hear but no was producing something completely different.

"I want to hold hands and to wear big cozy sweaters and have a bunch of kids, I want to never have a day wasted knowing it could have been better. Even if they're shitty days, I want to face the world with someone I care about because I'm sick and tired of feeling alone and afraid. I want to take a great thing when I see it." I paused and caught my breath, my lips dry and heart pounding. I could feel myself sweating and my body growing cold. "I want you now and tomorrow. I want..." I groaned, moving in and kissing Ken, to which he gladly reciprocated.

Like two lovesick teenagers, we made out on the bench. Ken took full advantage of my dress and began kissing me on my neck, down to my shoulders. I could feel him nibble- gently at first- along my delicate skin. I would bruise, and I didn't care, the love bites on me ignited a flame inside of me. Mark me, Ken, I thought, like I'm yours. His kisses made their way down to my bony collar bones, planting small, light ones on me that send a shiver over my body. All the unrealized emotions we had bottled up and masked with speech were free to pour out.

"Mmmm fucking...God," I moaned. I tilted my head back, pushing my chest out and offering it to him. The adhesive bra I wore beneath the dress did little now, as my nipples grew in size with my arousal, poking against both the bra and my dress. Of course Ken didn't notice this given how dark it was, but that's what made it so much better; something so fucking obscene yet so discrete.

Ken nibbled on my shoulder and like I had touched a livewire, I felt almost too much electricity surge through me, enough that I gasped.

"Let's go, let's fucking go." I told him, pushing him off of me- it was the only way to get him to stop. Without wasting time, he reached for my hand and pulled me up easily, dragging me a step or two along with him. I laughed, enjoying it before we both made a beeline for his car. I wasn't as in shape as he, but I did enough exercise to keep up with him to the car. He turned around and laughed, watching me struggle to keep up, but it was fortunate that I didn't have heels on.

"Wait!" I cried, the duck risotto taking its toll on me. "Fucking Donald." I whispered to myself, cursing my dinner. I knew I should have gotten the salad instead. Much to my surprise, Ken not only came back, he scooped me up. I proceeded to bury my face in my hands, a mixture of happiness and embarrassment washing over me. "Stooop!" I told him, laughing but uncovering my face. He eventually did set me down and I gave him a playful smack for his effort.

Once in, we sped off back to his place. Occasionally, we reached for one another, stroking one another's thighs or arms. I curled up in the seat, wiggling out of the panties under my dress. Ken couldn't believe it at first, doing a double take as I tossed the panties into the backseat. I'm surprised he didn't crash, honestly.

I don't even remember locking the car door, as hurried past the parking lot and back up the stairs, throwing the door to his place wide open. I kicked off my shoes while Ken pulled off his jacket, tossing it aside onto the couch. He then moved towards the door and shut it, standing in front of it while looming over me. I bit my lower lip, loving the silent presence he had over me. I then turned around, offering my back to him.

"Unzip me," I pleaded. He did just that, pulling the small zipper down slowly. As both sides of the dress parted from either side, I arched my back forward, reveling in the freeing exposure that came with slipping out of the dress. Ken's hands pressed on me, rubbing my taut back and easing the dress from me. It felt amazing to not wearing a regular bra, as Ken's hands freely roamed over my hunched back. I did a fair amount of exercise, overdoing it a bit much lately, but his strong hands eased away the tension from my body. His hands ironed out the stress, kneading my toned back as I helped inch the dress off of me by easing my arms from it. With my arms free, the fabric cascaded down my torso, leaving it bunched at the waist while the lower portion remained on. The feeling of being both so nude yet covered by the bralette gave me goosebumps, the kind that caused me to giggle uncontrollably. I could get used to this look and feel.

Ken reached out and pressed his hand against my cheek, feeling it as I leaned my face into it.

"Kenny," I whispered.

His hand continued to glide over me, caressing my shoulders, arms, and back. Like a cat, he stroked his hand down on me, and like a cat, I enjoyed every second of it. That was new, and I silently wished for him to do it again. He couldn't take his hands off of me, admiring me silently like I was a work of art. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy being objectified in this way, to be cherished and admired. Ken casually groped my ass, sliding his hand between my cheeks just a hint that made my knees quake.

Again without any hesitation, he pushed on my back, sending me forwards before I caught myself against the wall. I looked back at him, smirking and wising up to his pushy demeanor. I expected another shove, but he instead moved in closer to me, reaching for his pants and unbuckling them. The sound of his belt unfastening and the zipper coming undone made me unglued, pursing my lips tight. I took an open, lecherous gaze on his cock, ready to take it once again. Once again, Ken slid his hand down my rear, squeezing my ass tightly. Without fanfare, he lowered his grasp down to my thighs and pulled on it, sending me off balance and crashing against the wall.

"Oh shit!" I cried, hopping on one foot back to some sense of equilibrium. My leg burned with strain, still a bit sore from how he had taken me yesterday. Yet the pain faded as he stretched me. God fucking damn, he fucked like a pornstar- I couldn't slow down or stop now, I had to match everything he threw at me. The more insane and lewd, the better. I was a vulgar bitch, and he knew it.

Wrapping one arm around my torso and curling the other around my leg, he squeezed tightly on my calf. I trembled, leaning into my lover's body as he held me- his cock was hard and grazed against my slit, inching closer to where I needed it. I reached over to the bra, pulling it off of me, stripping whatever purity I still pretended to maintain in front of him. His hand wasted no time, squeezing my breast tight, my puffy nipple finding itself between two of his knuckles.

I loved being held that way, turning my head to face Ken, my bawdy face conveying every bit of the naughty woman I was. Peeled beneath the makeup and nice clothes was a whore needing immediate, cheap thrills. "Fuck me," I moaned to Ken, reduced to a barely intelligible grunt. He spoiled me, plunging his prick into me without mild pleasantries. Ken knew me. He knew my body and what I needed even before I did.

Euphoria filled my veins, my brain secreting the chemicals that changed me with urgency. I was made to take this, and almost like he read my mind, Ken uttered to me "take it, I know you can". I could, at the expense of making the sight pleasurable or cute for him, though I doubt he wanted that. He pounded in and out of me, thrusting my body into the wall like a ragdoll. My platinum blonde hair grew into an unkempt mop, brushed aside by me when he slowed down. As I did, Ken leaned in and kissed me, an open mouthed, sloppy affair that culminated when he bit my lower lip, pulling it some before letting go. Slack jawed and intoxicated, I whined loudly when he eased off of me and pulled his prick from my cunt. I looked down, eyeing how much it shone with my juices and how thick the aroma of sex was.

"You slut," he told me. I looked up at him, unprepared for such a rude thing to say. "You fuck on the first date."

I laughed, unashamed of how it sounded.

"Excuse me," I said with a salacious smirk. "I'm a homewrecker, not a slut."

Despite his more cautious trepidation with wanting to make things so tawdry, I could feel him clamp his hands on my body before he shoved me back first into the wall. My head thankfully didn't hit, as my back took the brunt of it. Still, I yelped loudly before another uncontrollable grin crept upon me. There was obviously a bit of real anxiety to his actions, but Ken was obviously much more relaxed about the nature of our weekend. He joined my perverse fantasy, adding fuel to my fire.

"Go ahead. Punish me. Make it more obvious to your neighbors you're cheating with a girl with bigger tits and better hair."

Ken silenced me by kissing me hard, shoving his tongue into my mouth. As he pinned my wrists down against the wall, my hands held his tight. It was the only form of affection that we allowed ourselves at the moment, eager to set aside a blossoming romance for trashy fun. I gave his hands a tight squeeze as he kissed me, two in succession to which he repeated back. We stopped kissing, and it seemed as though we had run out of steam. That's when I felt it.

Three quick squeezes on my hands. I never once looked away from his eyes, giving three squeezes back even harder.

"Let's take our time," I told him. "And let's get to know each other."