My GF; Fucking & How We Met Ch. 07

And it was still pretty fucking fun.

"Let's go!" I plowed into her. Despite being held, she still bounced on the table with each thrust.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Her head rolled back until she had to be seeing the far edge of the table.

Bounce.

Bounce

My end of the strapon rubbed into me perfectly with each drive into her.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Beads of sweat formed on her brow and the bottom of her chin.

Bounce.

Bounce.

I needed to be on her.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

I let go of her thighs, climbed onto the table, and pulled her to the center with me. Then I fucking mounted her.

Bounce.

Bounce.

I heard a fork hit the tile floor. I didn't feel it, so she must have knocked it off.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Damn, she was hot.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Sweat pooled in the small of my back and my shirt clung to me despite my rapid movement.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Our pace became frenetic.

Bounce.

Bounce.

My arms pinned hers to the table, only partially because she was thrashing.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

She screamed out, "Kay, Baby!" as she came.

Bounce.

Bounce.

I felt myself getting close and turned her jaw to look at my face.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bounce.

I don't know what I screamed when I came.~~~

I quite intentionally stayed in and on her, kissing her ear. Her legs came up and wrapped around me. I did unstrap myself with one hand. The other caressed her face.

"Baby..."

"Yes, Pretty girl?"

"I think I knocked something off the table."

"I don't care, Pet."

"Okay."

She felt so good and I was feeling so good, I wasn't willing to move. Until she shifted beneath me, uncomfortable.

"Wanna go back to bed, Angel?"

"Yes," she intoned.

I got off her, removed the dildo, and climbed off the table. She simply laid there, waiting.

I realized that she was getting a little spoiled in the knowledge that I would carry her wherever we wanted her to be, but I didn't care about that either. I like carrying her, especially when she's in that supremely vulnerable state right after I make her come.

So like a hundred pound bag of happy, I put her over one shoulder and took her upstairs to my bed to be cuddled. We both lost our shirts and crawled back into bed.

It was after 4am and I didn't expect to fall back asleep at that point. Plus, she smelled exceedingly enticing. I decided we could do a bit more than cuddle.

"Sweetness," I pulled my girlfriend on top of me so that we both faced up. The smooth skin of her back, ass, and thighs pressing down on me did nothing to stall my ardor. "I want you again."

"But," she responded confusedly, "I just came. You were there?"

"I was. And I liked it," I let my hands play over her flat stomach and slim hips, "Now I'm going to make you do it again. Got it?"

"Uh huh," she agreed, then yelped as I may have tweaked her nipples a little hard.

"Hold onto the headboard bars." I advised before I tweaked her cute cherry nipples again, that time to make her whimper. But then she giggled and shifted on me. "What's funny, Sexy?"

"Your bush tickles," she admitted, making me laugh. I swivelled my hips beneath her to exaggerate the experience. As I continued to vary pace and technique - caressing her sides and flanks, jabbing my middle finger into her bellybutton, grazing my fingernails over her ribs, tickling her outer lips - it amazed me to feel her breathing patterns change many times over the course of a handful of minutes. Obviously, her breathing trended faster and harder, but the subtle changes as I played with my girl fascinated me.

Refocusing because I knew she needed to leave for work in a couple hours, I hooked my ankles inside her knees and pulled them apart. My left hand continued to toy somewhat aimlessly with her body trapped above me, but the fingers of my right hand delved into her velvet sheath while my thumb flicked at her hooded clit. Sure, the angle made things a bit trickier than they needed to be, but I have long legs, arms, and fingers and my desire to make her come again tremendously incentivized my applied dexterity.

Her body trembled on me, seemingly unrelated to any particular stimulus. She made me curious.

"What's going though your pretty head?"

"I feel -uh- open and exposed."

"No one can see you though, Sweetness. Not even me really."

"Still feels that -ah- way."

"Do you like the feeling?"

"Yes, the air on... the air on me is good."

"Yes, but the idea? Does the idea of exposure turn you on?"

"Y-yes," she answered hesitantly with a distinct caveat, "but only the idea."

"Down worry, Cutie," I reassured her, without ever stopping or slowing in masturbating her, "I'm only talking about it as a fantasy. I'd never humiliate a shy girl like you that way."

"Thay-thank you! Oh!"

"Your welcome, Hotness," I continued to get her higher and higher, "but that really is the absolute least you should expect of a lover."

"I -ah- okay." Sex is her truth serum, but upping the dosage fogs her and vagues the response.

"How about I stop peppering you with questions and let you enjoy my fingers unimpeded?"

"Kay!"

Said fingers sped to bring her past the finish line. I used my heels to rub the insides of her legs. My free hand busily alternated between each of her delectable breasts. I swear I could feel her pulse in her nipples.

Her pussy walls squeezed as I battered her g-spot and stimulated her clit. Her body arched and stiffened, partially breaking contact with mine. She whiled and huffed in turn, her body trying to vocalize a need that her conscious mind was too far gone to express.

The vocalizations changed to a no less urgent but much more satisfied tone as she came, groaning and squealing.

Within seconds, her body relaxed fully on mine, her sopping sex stopped pulsing, and her little sighs calmed. With the hand still covered in her juices, I tapped on her lips, requesting entrance. She did me one better by releasing the headboard, taking my hand in hers, and licking each of my fingers clean like a popsicle.

Without changing our positions, I reached for a baby wipe from the nightstand and cleaned her up before rolling us onto our sides and pulling a sheet over us. Jocund and easy, I held her as she drifted to sleep.

I'd been wrong in my earlier assumption that I'd remain wakeful. With my delicate post-orgasmic girlfriend in my protective arms, I fell fast asleep as well. But that turned out to be a bad thing.

My alarm was set for 8am Saturdays to wake me up in time for tennis with the gang. My girlfriend, who usually set the alarm on her computer at her apartment, was supposed to be at work at 7:30am, so she was shit-outta-luck when my alarm woke us at 8.

"Oh no." She got a look at the time. "My boss will kill me. I was gone Thursday for that appointment and now I'm going to be more than an hour late for work."

"It's alright, Angel." I took her hand for a moment and squeezed. "You've never been late before, have you?"

"No." She seemed unconvinced that her previous perfect attendance would see her through.

"I'll take you in and talk to him for you." I reassured her. "Let's hurry up and get ready."

By the time we arrived at the pharmacy department at Seattle Children's, she'd bucked up quite a bit and I had her ready to face the music. There were no patients anywhere to be seen, so I imagined it'd be a simple mea culpa and on with the business of the day.

Standing next to me in her cute Duck Tales hoodie with (ironically) Donald Duck pants, I couldn't imagine anyone choosing to bully her anyway. I unfairly assumed that she was just being sensitive to disapproval from an authority figure.

"Where the fuck have you been? You are two fucking hours late! You're lucky we're short staffed right now or your stupid ass would be fired." The head pharmacist stopped berating her to take a breath. "Get your lazy ass changed out of those ridiculous pajamas and get to work right the fuck now, you dumb cunt!"

She gripped my arm the way she had when the biker chick had come at us. I realized that this vicious fuckwit had been terrorizing her. Probably for months, since the word "cunt" fell off his venomous tongue so readily. He must have worked up to that level of casual cruelty as it became evident that she was too scared or had too little self-esteem to answer back or report him. None of her coworkers seemed fazed either, which meant they were either also frightened or, despicably, allowing her to be a lightning rod for his anger.

I felt myself popping my lower jaw back and forth, an easy tell for those who know me that I'm enraged. Certainly I use some choice vulgarities myself - at work or no - but openly insulting a subordinate at one's mercy is every bit as loathsomely cowardly as picking a physical fight with an opponent below one's weight class. It's hitting someone who can't hit back without losing.

Screaming back at the unprofessional jackass who was using my girl to work out his napoleon issues wouldn't have helped her though. And I don't ever want her to see the side of me that I would be showing him.

I stared at him while I spoke to her, "Jenny, go to the little cafe downstairs and pick up a couple egg and ham sandwiches, a large chai latte for me, and a cocoa for you." (Exact requests stress her out less and we hadn't eaten in our rush to get her to work). I handed her two twenties to cover it. "I'm going to talk to your boss, Mr....?"

"Dr. Valkis," she supplied weakly.

"Dr. Valkis." I continued to stare at that Dr. Valkis. "Dr. Valkis and I are going to chat for a few minutes about supervisory expectations. I'll catch up with you down there."

"Jenny, if you don't get to work right now, you will be fired!" The pill-counting puto seemed to be gathering that he might have taken a misstep in insulting her in front of a witness. I imagined he meant to get her into the pharmacy to verbally reinforce her submission ASAP.

She looked up at me with those honey-golden brown eyes, pleadingly. "It's, it's, okay, Baby. I, I, I'll be okay." She tried to set her teeth, but her chin wiggled. I briefly considered contingencies where Dr. Valkis' dismembered body would be dissolved in acid in my bathtub. No moral reservations stayed my hand, just an equally brief risk analysis.

I wouldn't make her quit or let her be fired either though. She loved her job. After years of being told she was nothing and would never be anything, she earned a certificate and secured a professional position on her own. With honest work where she contributes to the healing of little kids, she proves to herself through her job at the Seattle Children's that she's a good person and providing value to the world. I wasn't going to take that away from her.

"Angel, you're not going to lose your job. It's not an acceptable outcome." I patted her shoulder. "Go on then. Dr. Valkis and I need to talk."

She looked back over her shoulder a couple times, but she got on the elevator.

"Now, Dr. Valkis, do you have an office somewhere?" I gestured, suggesting that he might prefer our conversation to be private. It didn't escape me that - "heid the baw" sort that he was - he failed to extend my girlfriend the same courtesy. My jaw popped again.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Are you her fucking lawyer or something?" Like many people who'd leaned too long on blustering to get their way, he seemed only able to find the hammer in his motivational toolbox. The fear creeping toward his eyes suggested that he wished for another tactic at that moment.

"Fair enough. We'll do this here." I gestured graciously again and we sat in the ugly waiting room chairs with a magazine-littered end table between us. "I'm not her lawyer, but I am a lawyer. When I leave here, I intend to engage Harper, Ingles, and Taft on her behalf." They're the premier firm in town for wrongful termination, malpractice, and hostile work environment. The fear clearly becoming clearly visible in his eyes told me that the firm name wasn't lost on him. "Whether you actually fire her or not."

"That's not much incentive not to fire the little bitch." He frowned, like he knew he should stop degrading her, but the behavior had become habitual.

I pictured twin icepicks gouging out his eyes, but stayed calm.

"No, but it's excellent incentive for you to quit. Today. Within an hour."

"You're fucking crazy, bitch!" It's a significant sign that you love your girlfriend when a pathetic person generates rage in you by leveling a degrading insult at her, but only mild disdain when leveling the same insult at you.

"I'm not." I wasn't. Threats are only effective when true and specific. "Any credible suit against a children's hospital for recurrent mistreatment of a cute 20 year old girl with an actual stutter and a history of abuse will cause Seattle Children's to dump you like toxic waste."

"You don't have a credible case. It'll be my word against hers and her girlfriend's. I have no record of complaints against me. Ever. She'll just look like a disgruntled rightfully fired employee." He retorted, prematurely crowing.

It was a good card and really the only card he had to play. A winning card even, if he hadn't called me a bitch, too. That suggested that it wasn't only my girlfriend that he'd bullied, even if she likely got the worst of it.

"You really think that your other employees will skip joining a lucrative lawsuit out of loyalty to you?" As an abhorrent reprobate who overcame his society's ethical code and his own internal moral compass to unscrupulously abuse his subordinates, he could never sanely expect loyalty back. Instead, he was rightfully paranoid that they'll jump at the first chance to get revenge/justice. "At the least, the hospital will fire you and settle out of court to shorten the bad publicity. You'll be lucky to find work in a grocery store pharmacy after that, assuming the Department of Health's Pharmacy Quality Assurance Commission doesn't take action against you."

The precarious nature of his situation seemed to sink in, but comprehending another's unselfish motivation still eluded him. "Why not just sue then? The little whore is sure to get a nice settlement and be hired somewhere else."

"Dr. Valkis," I spoke to that worthless angishore very very quietly, still in control, but extremely angry. "If you call my girlfriend a derogatory name one more time, I will cut out your tongue, crack open your head, and skullfuck you with it as your brain hemorrhages and you die." True and specific. "Now, would you like to rephrase your question?"

I didn't blink. He blinked rapidly.

"Why let me walk away?" Attempting to fathom his depth of baseness, I wondered how exactly it was that he could understand my shrinking girlfriend well enough to brutishly browbeat her with confident impunity, but not understand why I wouldn't want to put her through the horrid experience of a formal and legal complaint process.

"Because a lawsuit would be unpleasant for her and, aside from your contribution, she loves this job. But her annual salary doesn't appreciably increase our style of living and I won't have her mistreated." I stood to walk away. "The ball's in your court. One hour and I expect you to be gone."

"You're a vindictive, psycho, evil dyke!" Apparently my turning my back gave him the courage to rail against the sudden emasculation he felt.

"That's true." I smiled my best lawyer death grin as I glanced back over my shoulder at him. "But I'm her vindictive, psychotic, evil dyke. So, one hour."

I hummed Skylar Grey's "Wreak Havoc" as I took the elevator down to see her.

My Jenny stood at the table with our food, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

"They don't have ham, so I got two bacon sandwiches, because I thought that they were also pig and that maybe it'd be okay, but if it's not, I can maybe-"

I hugged her.

"Sounds even better. Let's eat."

We sat down and she tapped her foot. Her face told me she was trying to find the words to ask how it went.

"Dr. Valkis agreed that he'd been treating his staff terribly and that he needed to make a change," She's cute as a ball o' nerves, but I wouldn't keep her in suspense over something so important to her as her job situation. "He felt that he should accept another job offer right away, so that he could have a fresh start somewhere else to work on his behavior. You don't have to see him again."

Yes, I lied to her. No, I don't feel guilty about it. Had I told her the truth, she'd have felt guilty for costing that incredible asshat his job. She's good people that way. Very Mohist.

I did feel a twinge that, rather than ruining the despicable dirtbag's career, I probably shuffled him off to be another pharmacy's problem. Still, it was the best outcome for her and I'd do it again. I'm a more a Confucian than a Legalist at heart and she's the highest in my own hierarchy of relationships.

"Oh." A thousand pounds of weight dropped off her shoulders in that instant. I kicked myself for not asking better questions and resolving the situation for her earlier. "Thank you."

"You are entirely welcome, Angel." I toasted her with my chai latte. "The assistant pharmacist, he's an alright sort?"

"Oh, yes. Dr. Tyler is very nice."

"Good, good." I resolved to have a short chat with him before I left.

She smiled and laughed through the rest of breakfast, where I confirmed to her that I would be inflicting my friends upon her that night. In a safe, harmless manner. We'd be playing board games at my house.

Once the hour had safely passed, I walked her back upstairs and hugged her again before sending her back behind the glass partition to sort and dispense pills.

"Dr. Tyler?" I rightly guessed the assistant - now acting - pharmacist's identity. He seemed a likeable chap, youngish and probably only just out of his residency. I had that quick chat with him.

"Yes? Oh, ah, hi." He recognized me, "Can I, ah, help with anything?"

"You can actually. I understand that this is a place of business and Jenny will need to be corrected at times." The look I gave him was forthright, but less hard than I gave his predecessor and certainly not overtly evil. "But I love her very much and the day that you make her feel like shit will be the last day you work here."

He nodded, understanding. "And thanks for...'" He gestured to the empty office that he'd be occupying for the foreseeable future.

I nodded back. "Never a problem."

Upon leaving the hospital around 11am, I found myself at loose ends for the afternoon, since I'd already missed my standing tennis date and wouldn't be having my friends over until 8pm. So I headed over to Cherry's Girl Bar, thinking I'd see Nic and maybe catch a nooner.

On the way down to my car, I called my general contractor, Stephen, and asked him to send one of his guys out to change all my cabinet clasps for the magnetic kind and to chop about three inches out of the legs of all my tables and seats. (He'd come over himself later in the month to show me options and draw up an estimate for more complicated remodeling.)

That little chore complete, I drove over, parked in the garage, tipped Matt the slightly creepy but amenable valet, and crossed the street to Nic's bar whistling Jason Derulo's "Cheyenne" cheerfully.

I tipped Kay the bouncer on the way in as well. A bouncer isn't strictly needed on the day shift, but they make Nic more comfortable, so she gives either Kay or Mabel a fifty or so to basically hang out, doublecheck questionable IDs, and provide presence if needed.

"What's that you're playing?" I noticed her gaming on her tablet.

"KOTOR." She saw I was unhit. "Knights of the Old Republic. The best Star Wars RPG ever created."