Molly's Muse Pt. 02

"That sounds like her, burning the candle at both ends. A workaholic if you ask me. I can be similar at times, but I try and go out of my way to enjoy the better things in life when I can. Work-life balance is important, don't you think?"

Paul said nothing. Her subtle jabs at Molly caused him to have an off-brand desire to kick her in the balls.

"Part of my department's purpose," she continued, oblivious to Paul's violent desires, "is to ensure our employees don't get lost in the nine-to-five grind corporate life can sometimes become. I've seen enough cases of burn-out not to understand the reality of it."

"I've only been working for a day."

"You know what they say, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound cure."

"They do say that," Paul replied. He honestly thought the phrase was quite apt for this situation, though not in the way Grace meant it. He needed her gone before this went any further.

"Not to be rude," he said as he walked closer to the door, leading her out with his body language, "but I really was on my way out. Maybe if Molly can spare me at some point later this week, I can come by and we can finish this conversation."

Grace looked annoyed. She wasn't used to being dismissed so easily. The objects of her attentions were usually on their knees sucking her fat cock by now.

"Your dedication to Molly is admirable," she said, "but don't you think you can accomplish so much more, professionally speaking, by finding something better than being some has-beens fuck toy?"

"Ok, nice," Paul said curtly. "Thanks for coming. Get the fuck out."

He was happy to have the work pretense over.

"Don't play hard to get with me, sweetheart, Molly was breaking in your ass in less than a day. I saw you staring at my cock, be a good little boy and come get a closer look."

"Rather not. Molly's is bigger, I don't play in the kiddie pool."

"Fuck you!"

"Too late, not so much into women these days. I love big, fat girlcock."

"What the fuck is that supposed mean," Grace yelled. She involuntarily looked down at her package as if to confirm it was there.

A feminine cough came from the doorway. Paul spun.

Upon seeing Molly standing there, in his wide-open door, his heart sank down into stomach.

"I believe," Molly said calmly, "Paul meant your dick is so small you might as well have a pussy, for all the good it would do in satisfying his needs."

She was addressing Grace but had eyes only for Paul. He was expecting anger, or betrayal, or some other negative emotion at finding him alone in his apartment with Grace. The only thing he saw, however, was lust.

If a woman could fuck with her eyes, Molly would be balls deep in Paul.

"Did I get that right, sweetheart?" Molly asked, speaking to Paul, but mocking Grace's use of the pet name.

"Uh, yeah," said Paul. His eloquence around Molly was uncanny.

To be fair, he was more concerned with what Molly was wearing. Her hair was down and covered by a white-nit beanie, her cheeks and nose red from either the cold outside or the blood rushing around from the unexpected scene in front of her. An oversized hoodie fell over most of her body, down to mid-thigh, where it met a hint of bare skin.

Below that, as if she had ripped it straight from the pages of a journal written by a horny, undersexed, sixteen-year-old Paul, one he had never written, Molly had on dark, navy blue, thigh high socks, crowned at the top with three white stripes matching her hat.

Call him cliché, but the comfy-yet-sexy girl next door look could leave him stuck to the bed, dick first, all night long.

A small suitcase sat upright next to where she stood. It had a bumper sticker on the front that read 'Oxford Commas Are For Cowards'.

She was so god-damned adorable Paul couldn't believe how deep in his strike zone this girl was. Molly was riding his wet-dreams like she lived in his brain.

"How are you doing this?" Paul blurted without realizing what he was saying.

Molly hitched, not expecting the question, "Doing what?"

Grace took this moment to cut in, "What are you doing here Molly? Shouldn't you be working?"

"Go fuck yourself, whore," said Molly.

Paul laughed.

"I thought I told you this morning to lay off," accused Molly.

"And I said I'll fuck whoever I want," said Grace, annoyed at the interruption.

"Said the whore with the little dick."

"Oh. You get a boy-toy with a sense of humor and all the sudden you have jokes too? Stick to writing books where all the characters die like the sad bitch you are."

"He's mine. Only mine," said Molly. She looked over to Paul, a look of shame on her face after she said that.

Paul shrugged, not giving a fuck at being claimed by her.

Grace looked to Paul, then back to Molly, and like she had been doing since arriving, she missed the tone of the conversation, taking Molly's aggression towards 'owning' Paul as her in.

"Claiming him like an object? That's fucked up, even for you, Molly. You may like hiring living fuck dolls for 'inspiration', but you never pretend to own them like this. Is that why you bit him? Branding him like cattle? He's hurt because of you. What's next? You going to carve your name into his skin?"

Molly fidgeted with her hands and pouted innocently at Paul.

"You'd never think such terrible things of your sweet girl, would you Paul?"

Paul shivered, remembering what she had done to him the last time she used that tone of voice on him.

He tore his eyes away from Molly towards Grace.

"See? That's how you seduce someone," he said to her.

"That's what you like?" asked Grace, put out.

"What he likes," asserted Molly, back to being angry, "is fucking my huge tits. Yours are small enough I'd be surprised if you could fully wrap them around his big cock. Like trying to fuck a table."

As much as he was enjoying two hot dickgirls fighting over him, Paul backed away from the confrontation for a moment, starting to rifle through his kitchen drawers before finding something and pulling it out.

"My tits have swallowed plenty of cock," said Grace, lifting her bra and letting her tits drop in the open.

"Awe, look how cute," said Molly.

"Haven't had any complaints."

"Hard to complain when you're too busy shoving your cock down their throat. Whether they want it there or not. You always were the rapey type."

"They beg me for it. And as soon as Paul gets a taste, he'll be begging for it too."

"Those tiny femboys you're so fond of must be something special to last in your bed, all ten seconds of it you tiny-cocked cunt."

"Cow."

"Sex offender."

The two women's fists were balled as if they were ready to come to blows.

"Hey!" yelled Paul, reasserting himself. "As sexy as this girl fight is, and as curious as I am to see if you'll both end up naked and comparing dick size, which would be awesome by the way, maybe this will settle things..." Paul jutted out both of his arms, each inner forearm sporting the word 'MOLLY'S' in all caps.

His right arm looked more like 'MULPY'5', but the intent was the same. Paul had never been good at writing with his off hand.

He looked at Grace, "It's not carved, but I can get it tattooed on my dick if you need something more official, not that you'll ever see it."

Both Molly and Grace were standing there with their mouths hanging open.

Grace was the first to snap out of it, hiccupping out a snort before she started laughing outright. She hadn't bothered covering herself yet and her tits bounced beautifully. Paul was having a hard time not staring. He had no interest in Grace when he could have Molly, but her tits were amazing. After all, he was only a man.

"Oh my god, he's so damn cute," said Grace through her giggle fit, "I kind of hate you right now for not sharing," she said to Molly.

"I think I'm falling in love with him," blurted Molly.

The room fell into silence, Molly closed the distance between her and Paul and grabbed his covered arms, inspecting them. She rubbed her thumb over her name.

"Jesus Paul, did you use permanent marker?"

She took the pen that he was still holding in his hand and looked at it.

"You did. You used permanent marker. It's going to take forever for me to wash this off."

"Falling in love with him?" Grace asked, shocked.

"Yes."

"It's only been a day."

Molly licked her thumb and tried rubbing off some of the marker. "So?"

"Are... are you sure he's not just a good lay? I've gotten love and good ass confused a couple times."

Molly took her attention away from Paul to acknowledge Grace, "It can't be both?"

"Well shit, if this is about more than sex I think I might feel bad now."

"You didn't before?" asked Paul after he'd recovered from Molly's sudden admission.

"No. I thought she was being selfish, hogging a good piece of ass and keeping him to herself."

"Again, can't it be both?" asked Molly again.

"That's the dream, I suppose," Grace said in a sigh. Then she perked up. "Can I interest you in a threesome?"

"Not this time," said Molly.

"This time?!" interjected Paul. "Wait, let's talk about this."

Molly pinched his arm. Hard.

"Ow, fuck. I was joking."

With Molly's attention back on Paul's arms, she led him to the kitchen area, such as it was, put his arms over the sink and went about using soap and water to try and scrub her name off his skin.

She looked up at Paul, "Stop staring at her tits."

"But they're right there."

Molly pinched him again.

"Ow. Stop doing that. Maybe if you took your shirt off, I'd stare at yours instead. Don't blame me because I'm taking a few glances at the only pair of uncovered tits in the room."

Molly rolled her eyes, but for a second, she almost did as he suggested, if only to have his eyes only on her again.

"Molly," said Grace.

"What?" she replied, sounding agitated.

"Is this for real?"

Molly had calmed herself by now. She knew this was over. Grace had no chance with Paul. A fact that had been evident since she had arrived at his door and saw the panicked look on his face when he saw her. Arguing with Grace was more out of anger at her in general, rather than at her being here alone with Paul.

"You know me well enough to know I'd never say something like that just to win a fight."

"Yeah, that was my thought. I never had a shot here, did I?"

"No," said Paul, beating Molly to it.

He leaned in and nuzzled her neck, whispering words only she could hear. She kept scrubbing at Paul's arms, not looking at him. He must have said something Molly particularly liked because she blushed. She never blushed, which said much about the vulnerable state she was in.

Molly laid her head on Paul, continuing to scrub at his arms. The moment had gone from angry and volatile to tender and loving in an instant.

Grace nodded to herself. She was an extra now, a lump in a room occupied by only two people. Neither of them noticed as she gave them both an adoring smile, and, true to her name, gathered her things and left gracefully. Closing the door behind her.

She was sure there would be more to come between her and Molly, she did try to snake her boy after she had asked her to back off, but that was a problem for another day.

She was still crazy horny, which was unfortunate. Maybe Amy was up for a spin, her love of girlcock wasn't as singularly focused as Paul's.

Back in the apartment, Molly turned off the water and huffed.

"It's not coming off," she mumbled, mostly to herself even though Paul was right next to her. She grabbed a towel and dried them both off. "You're wearing long sleeves to the office until this crap comes off. If people start calling me Mulpy, you're fired."

She kept avoiding looking at Paul for too long, choosing to ramble and keep the subject off her impromptu 'I think I'm falling for you' declaration.

"You're going to have to look at me eventually," Paul said.

"No. I can smell your smugness."

"What is there to be smug about?"

"Two women fighting over you, one going topless, the other... maybe in love with you even though they barely know you. Not that I don't blame you. I'd be smug if I were you."

"Oh. That. I hardly noticed," Paul lied, smugly. "Are you and Grace going to be ok?"

Molly nodded. "Grace has been my best friend since before I was published. She's the only reason Denton Publishing ever got off the ground. We've been through a lot. This isn't the first fight we've had a fight, and it won't be the last. We'll be back to normal after we yell at each other some more."

Paul had a thought that 'normal' between those two wasn't too much more peaceful than what had just occurred in his apartment.

He took Molly's hand and moved them over to sit next to each other on his bed. Molly immediately went to fish out his cock but was stopped by Paul. Confused, Molly finally looked into Paul's eyes, still nervous, but unable to delay any longer. She was hoping a little foreplay would distract them both for a while longer.

What if he didn't feel the same? Grace was right. It hasn't been nearly long enough with Paul for the 'L' word to start being thrown around.

"My dick hurts," said Paul.

Not what Molly was expecting. She was thankful for the brief reprieve, though.

"I'm not surprised." Molly replied, "I've been using it almost non-stop. Your virility is impressive... for a man." She winked at him. "So, is that your way of saying you don't want to fuck tonight?"

"That's my way of saying I don't want to use my dick to fuck tonight."

Molly shivered. It would be a lie to say she hadn't been thinking about his warm, tight ass all the way over to his apartment.

She'd packed up and gotten in her car to come see Paul not sure what type of reception she'd receive. She had a certainty it wouldn't be negative in any regard, but beyond that, she didn't know. Sex would be nice, but not required. She would've been happy just to sleep next to him. She had no desire to sleep alone after knowing what it was like to have Paul there, even once.

What was the point of a bed without Paul in it?

Paul reached over and moved Molly's large hoodie up and over her rapidly stiffening member.

No panties, just bare girlcock.

He watched in awe as it grew, like there was no limit to it. He was almost jealous. Not at her size, because what was the point of that, but at her constant readiness. He hadn't even touched her and she was ready to fuck.

"Sex demon," Paul muttered, repeating himself.

Molly giggled, then stopped as she saw Paul go uncharacteristically serious.

He was glaring at her, all hints of sarcasm and humor gone from his face. He reached out and grabbed her massive cock possessively.

"Mine. Only mine," declared Paul, mimicking Molly's claim on him.

Molly nodded quickly in agreement, wilting at his words. She could have cum from his tone alone. No man had ever made her feel like more of who she was while holding her big fat cock the way Paul was doing now. She was a woman with big dick, and Paul was somehow stroking both of those opposed parts of her.

It made her both want to cuddle into his arms like his sweet girl should; and throw him down on the bed and fuck his tiny boy hole with her monster girlmeat until he screamed for her to stop.

Paul let go of Molly and slid deeper onto the bed, removing his pants in the process.

Molly stood and faced him, admiring his naked body in a new way. It had a unique quality that could only be explained by the exclusivity of it. If this worked out, she would be the only person to ever look at him the way she was now. An owning of him, if only for the moment.

Lust and anticipation shot down from her heart to her cock, and it jumped as it hovered out over the bed. Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and dragged it up, holding it tight to her body as she lifted, carrying her heavy breasts up along with it.

In one final move, Molly jerked the sweater off, letting her tits drop. They slapped down against her chest and each other as they moved and tried to settle. They bounced, they jiggled, they swayed. They sung harmonies of the flesh that almost made Paul clap and demand an encore.

Molly was ever the showman.

Reaching into the front pocket of her shirt before discarding it, she pulled out a bottle of lubricant.

"Why do you always seem to have lube nearby?" asked Paul, bemused.

"Same reason a normal girl always carries tampons... just in case things happen."

She smirked. Paul glowered, if only to give Molly the satisfaction that he was bothered by the implied promiscuity of the statement.

"Besides," Molly added, "every room you and I have been in together since we met has included the use of lube to some degree. I hedged my bet your apartment wouldn't be any different."

"That does seem the pattern."

Molly started lubricating herself, coating her girlcock from base to tip in a generous amount of the slick substance.

Paul watched, a thrill shooting through him knowing where Molly intended to put her hard, needy prick. He looked up into Molly's eyes in question.

"Lay flat on your stomach," she said in answer.

Paul did, and as soon as he was in place, Molly got onto the bed and crawled until she was positioned over his prone form on all fours. She used one of her hands to line her cockhead up with Paul's entrance and pushed forward sharply, lodging her mushroom tip through Paul's tight pucker with force.

"Ahh, fuck!" yelled Paul, losing his breath.

He hadn't been expecting the abruptness of Molly's thrust. He was so used to her trying to take care of him he half expected some long-drawn-out session of stretching and loosening.

"I know, sweety," said Molly, trying to overcome how good it felt to be back inside Paul's ass, "I know that hurt. Sorry. From our previous conversation, I thought you might prefer the more direct approach."

Paul nodded in agreement. It hurt far more than the first time she fucked him, most likely due to the small plug he'd been using at the time, but this way got him to the good parts far quicker than if he or Molly insisted on 'proper' foreplay.

He added in his own mind a budding concern that he might actually enjoy the pain and ache that accompanied being opened wide by Molly in such a violent manner. As much as having a small penchant for masochism would never be a fun self-realization to anyone, and assuming he wasn't romanticizing the moment, enjoying the feeling of being ripped in two by giant dicks would be helpful in the long run during a time with Molly.

"There's more. Much more," assured Molly, as if intentionally petting Paul's quiet concern, "Take a deep breath, Paul."

Paul inhaled fully. When he reached the peak of his lungs, Molly pushed, forcing the air back out in a rush. She didn't thrust or jab, start and stop, or wait for him to adjust. She trusted in gravity and the slickness of her coated cock to guide her in one insistent, steady movement until she was fully buried.

Paul gasped, regardless of his preemptive deep breath. The invasion of his body made him sweat and shiver from the pressure he felt. He moaned. His body throbbed, carried away by the internal rearrangements inflicted by Molly's sledgehammer of a cock. He was relieved it didn't hurt like he thought it would, at least not in the same way it had when Molly had first entered him. It wasn't the most comfortable his ass had ever felt, but it was manageable.

And if this morning taught him anything, it was that buttholes are adjustable, given time and effort.

He felt Molly grind a bit, take herself out a few inches before shoving herself completely inside him again.

Molly was holding herself up by her arms and had her knees frogged out to either side of Paul's waist, her cock at rest inside his ass. She fell down to her elbows and pressed her soft tits into his back in a way she knew he would appreciate before she continued stretching him out.