Race Against the Cock

The front door closed and Miles looked frantically at the time, realizing too late that he should have planned his day better.

"Honey bear?" Sarah called.

"Shit shit shit," he muttered. He knew better, and now it was too late. "In here, sweetheart!" he called down the hall.

Miles smiled up at his girlfriend as she rounded the corner of the little den that he worked out of, hoping against hope that he didn't look nervous.

"Hey, sugar!" she said with a smile as she dropped her car keys into the purse on her arm. "Working hard in here?"

"You know me," he chuckled.

"I sure do," she beamed, stepping into the small room to kiss him on the forehead softly. "I'm gonna hop in the shower to clean up; are you going to be ready in 10?"

Miles gulped hard. "Yeah. Yeah, totally. I'll be...right here?"

Sarah arched a quizzical eyebrow. "Are you asking me?"

"Uhhh...maybe?"

She reached out to ruffle his hair affectionately before turning to go. "Here is fine," she said over her shoulder. "Just be ready when I get out, okay? I had a bit of a long day."

Miles waited until he heard the shower taps start before panicking outwardly. A long day could only mean one thing: she'd give no quarter, and accept no retreat. Closing his work materials down and setting his laptop aside, Miles wondered to himself if there was anything he could do now, at the 11th hour, to give himself a fighting chance.

"Hun!" Sarah called out as Miles hurriedly scrolled through an incredibly unhelpful 'Men's Health' article.

"Fuckin' bullshit," he muttered, closing the tab before calling back. "Yeah?"

"Can you bring me a clean washcloth? I forgot to grab one." So this was how it was going to be, was it?

"Of course!" he called back.

Steam billowed liberally through the crack in the door as he stepped into the en suite washroom.

"Here you go," he offered, sticking his hand through the curtain.

"Thanks babe," said Sarah from the other side of the vinyl sheet. Miles lingered, knowing that this was part of 'it', and was proven right almost immediately. "Were you good today?"

There it was. "Yes," he replied demurely.

"All day?" Sarah asked.

"All day," he replied. It was true; he hadn't touched at all. Of course, there was no way for Sarah to know that he was telling the truth, but his compliance was more down to forgetfulness than anything else.

"Good boy!" she lauded, pulling the curtain back to peek around the edge, wet hair dripping water all over the floor. Miles offered a weak smile in return. "Awh, you're so good to me. I knew you could do it!"

"Well," he began once she'd disappeared back into the shower again, "I know the rules."

"Yes," she said, her unseen smile somehow audible in her tone. "You certainly do! Which is why I know you're going to be a good boy now and go wait for me, right?" She bit her lip through the grin while she listened for his sheepish reply.

"Yes," he muttered.

"Good boy," she said again, knowing the praise would keep him nice and docile.

Miles went back to his office and dropped his drawers, looking down at his cock and pleading with it to behave. "Don't fuck this up," he muttered at it as he began to fondle it softly, "not again." It took no time at all to get himself hard, especially given the week of brutal, punishing teases Sarah had put him through. He really should have cum while she was gone. He was fucked now.

"There's my stud!" Sarah beamed at him from the door, startling him; he's been so worried about getting hard that he'd missed the sound of the shower turning off. She stood there, hand on the door frame in nothing by a white tank top, wet hair laying on her shoulders heavily. "God, you're just the best, baby," she cooed as she stepped into the room to sit her bare butt on the edge of his desk. "Now hurry up and get in here; mama needs this!"

Miles knew he was damned before he ever began. The telltale tingle in his cock told him that he was simply not going to last; he was already too sensitive to make good on the conditions of their arrangement. Nevertheless, he took up his place in front of Sarah and lined himself up to slide into her puffy, bald pussy. Just the way that her lips parted slightly as she gasped through the initial contact nearly drove him over the edge.

"Oh god," she muttered, reaching out to hug him closer, "That's it now, nice and slow."

Nice and slow. She might as well have condemned him right then and there - his only chance at credibly beating her at her own game was to get her off hard and fast. "Fuck," he moaned. They watched together as her freshly shaved pussy swallowed him hungrily, foreheads pressed together in reverent observance.

Miles gave it his level best, he really did. Kissing Sarah deeply, he handled her body with practiced familiarity, using his big, strong hands to squeeze and grope her in the ways that she loved; despite their dynamic, she loved when he made her feel small and dainty by grabbing and smacking her playfully. His big hands cupping her pert little tits and the way he desperately tugged the tank top down to bare herself to his worshiping kisses drove her wild.

"That's it baby! Fuck, yes! That's so hot! Grab my tits like that, come on!"

Miles did as he was told, but he was miles away in a retreat of his own making. Grocery lists, baseball stats, nursery rhymes; he recited them all against the pressing urgency of what he knew he'd never prevent.

"Pound this fucking pussy, yes baby! Just like that! More! Come on, fuck me harder!"

Winded, and more than hopeless, Miles screwed his eyes tightly shut; her hands on his chest, the smell of her shampoo, and the gossamer embrace of her flawless hole were all too much, and Sarah knew it.

"What...is it...baby?" Sarah teased breathlessly as he drove into her furiously, taking a fistful of his shirt in her hands.

"I..." he began.

"Come...on now!" she urged, licking her lips deliciously.

"I wanna...cum" he moaned, scooping his hands under her ass and pushing her backward. It sounded a bit pitiful, but Sarah melted at the desperation in his voice and gave a playful squeal at being manhandled so urgently.

"Go ahead," she laughed with a huff, "But I hope you didn't forget the consequences of cumming first?"

Sarah gave a feral moan as Miles offered his reply, powering himself into her with redoubled urgency. Knowing she planned to tell him he'd lost either way, she chewed her lip hard as her little toes started to curl under his thunderous onslaught. She considered herself lucky that his eyes were still closed in concentration or he'd certainly see the truth writ plainly on her face; the furrowed brow and manic gasp frozen on her lips would give her away instantly if Miles wasn't so intent on buying himself a few more seconds. God, she loved him like this.

"I'm...I'm..."

"I know, baby," she urged, fighting to keep her own voice level as her tummy muscles tightened and her hips began to quake. She wasn't sure she'd pulled it off.

Abruptly, the wet plunging and rhythmic clapping of their feverish fucking gave way to Miles' guttural grunting as he pitched himself forward, giving way to the evolutionary drive to thrust himself as deeply as he could in the final moments of his ecstasy. Sarah barked a high-pitched laugh as her body continued to shake itself silly around her, bathing in the flood of endorphins that her own orgasm had unleashed on her.

"That's...it!" she cried, wincing at the turgid cock prodding almost too deeply into her. "Let it all out, baby."

Miles collapsed against her, huffing like a beast, as she set her wobbly feet back on the ground. "Did I...did I beat you?" he asked, sweaty head on her shoulder.

"Oh baby," she shushed him. "No, but that's okay. You will next time, I'm sure of it." She smiled at his defeated groan while patting him softly on the back.

"How many days is it this time then?" he asked resignedly.

"Oh gosh, let's talk about that later, hey? You made me a messy girl, and we should get started on dinner soon too. Come on baby boy, let's get going."