Tash and Torc Pt. 02

Natasha woke up much later than she'd intended to. She didn't have work that day; her one-day weekend, she called it. Torc's schedule was very changeable. She usually knew what days he worked, unless he was called in in an emergency. What time he left for work and returned could vary by hours sometimes. She listened, but couldn't hear him moving about the apartment.

She was giddy about what had happened last night. It had felt perfect. It had thrilled her to be with him, to have felt him inside her. She had wanted him, and when she had him it had only made her want him more. But she was worried now that it had meant nothing to him besides a simple one-night stand. Or worse, that he would feel awkward around her and their happy relationship as friends and roommates would be irrevocably altered.

She swaddled herself in her bathrobe and walked into the living room. The blanket that she'd lain over him last night was on the couch, folded neatly. She felt an unexpected pang at that, and couldn't guess what for. From the time, she guessed he was at work; the cold coffee in the kitchen indicated that he'd probably been gone for an hour or more.

She sipped on his cold coffee-not an unusual thing for her to do-and considered what she should do. She couldn't tell him she loved him. That would be too much, too fast. If he wasn't scared off already, that would do it. Besides, she didn't know if that was what she felt. It was obvious she cared for him as a friend. Maybe her loneliness had her a little mixed up, trying to make something out of nothing.

He also hadn't dated anyone since Monica, and didn't seem notably interested in getting involved with anyone. If Torc wasn't ready to be in a relationship, pressuring him into one would be horrible. She thought that both of them could be happy with some no-strings-attatched sex, but then what if that's all she could ever be to him?

Her thoughts ran in circles all day, leading her nowhere. She knew without a doubt that she couldn't tell him how she felt, or that she was too scared to, anyway. She also knew that he turned her on. She laid back down in bed at some point, thinking of the evening they'd shared. She began to touch herself, remembering the feel of him inside her. Remembering his strong arms beneath her as he swung her around and lowered her to the couch. His weight pressing down on her. The feel of his thick cock in her mouth and the taste of his cum as it filled up her mouth and coursed down her throat.

She came hard, rubbing her clit with one hand and grabbing blindly at the bedsheets with the other. When she cried out his name, she was hardly aware of it.

*****

She went for a walk to try to clear her head, but by the time Torc got home she still felt as fuzzy and afraid as she had all day. She'd expected him back perhaps a bit sooner, and she felt her nerves fraying as she waited. She knew she had to talk to him today. Waiting would be too uncomfortable. She was in her room when she heard the door open, though, and it took her ten minutes after that to finally emerge and confront him.

She didn't want to act like she was upset about anything, so she screwed on her happiest face and came bouncing out of her room as though it were any other day. Torc was holding their little plastic watering can and making the rounds of the house plants. "Hey," she said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey, Tash!" he said. If she'd managed to sound half as cool as he did, she felt that there may be an Oscar in the cards.

"How was work today?" she asked, striving for the championship.

Torc drew his breath in and then paused for a moment. Then he nodded his head, as though conceding a point, and replied, "It was kind of rough today, actually."

Normally, Natasha was genuinely interested in how his day went. She didn't find much interest in the actual goings-on at the physical therapy center; the gossip about the employees tended to be more interesting than how many reps Mrs. Johnson was up to on whatever device. She was most concerned with how he felt, and not the mundane details. Today she listened as attentively as she could as he told her about their new client and the difficulty they had setting him up on a rehab program. The upshot was that he was a bit frustrated and tired, having already worked some overtime.

He got a beer from the fridge and opened it, offering her one. She declined and followed him into the living room as he checked the soil on a few plants, only watering two of them. He didn't drone on about the specifics of his day, but his weariness still came through in his voice. She almost convinced herself that he needed to rest and relax, and it wasn't a good time to bring up a difficult subject. If they didn't talk about it today, though, it would only get more awkward.

He tried to end his brief monologue on a positive note like he always did. No matter how sore or tired or injured he was, no matter what befell him, Torc almost always managed some kind of 'at least it wasn't such-and-such' or some kind of plan or hope moving forward. Natasha couldn't help but smile. Once she'd noticed it, she noticed it in just about every conversation she had with him. This underlying optimism that made her feel that everything was always going to somehow be okay.

There was a pause after he stopped talking. He was still holding the watering can, and she felt that they both had a sense for what was coming next. She broke the temporary silence with, "So about yesterday . . ." This time she knew her voice wasn't calm. There was a dangerous quaver in it that spoke volumes.

She saw his mouth open to speak, but nothing came out at first. She thought of all the things she dreaded hearing. It was a mistake-we shouldn't do it again-it's not appropriate. There were so many avenues for disaster. She continued hastily before he had a chance to make a sound. "I'm happy. About what happened, you know? I . . ." she waited for him to burst her bubble, to say something painful, to snatch her happiness away from her and leave her bereft. " . . . I was really glad," she finished lamely.

He looked at her for a long time. He didn't seem angry or upset; only searching for some words. It was an unusual state of affairs. As long as she'd known him, Torc had always had plenty of words. You couldn't pay him to shut up, half the time. At last the words came, and the words were, "I'm happy, too."

A single syllable, a barking laugh, came out of her mouth. It might almost have been mistaken for a scoff if it hadn't obviously been relief. She'd been entirely across the room from him, and now took a few steps closer, realizing with embarrassment that her eyes were watering. "I was worried . . ." she whispered timidly, "That you'd . . . be mad at me." She couldn't help but follow up with a nervous, relieved chuckle.

And then the sun rose in Torc's goofy, guileless smile. "Oh," he said warmly, setting his beer down and walking the few steps to meet her in the middle of the room. He quickly put his arm around her and drew her into a friendly embrace. She leaned her head against his chest, feeling peace radiating out from him. "You don't have to be worried about that," he said softly.

"Thank you," she whispered in reply. He wrapped his other arm around her as well, bumping her shoulder blade with a plastic watering can. She sighed deeply, and they stood like this for a long time, warm breath from his nose on the top of her head. She didn't know where things went from here, but their friendship wasn't harmed, and that was what mattered most.

*****

The next day, while she was at work, she texted him about their friend Dana's birthday. It was that evening, at Kate's house, where there was a fire pit in the yard. Super casual, have a few beers by the fire and hang out, if he wasn't too tired after work he was more than welcome.

Natasha got done with work and picked up a few items from the store. She was getting done making her signature pasta salad as Torc strolled through the door. "Oh, good," he said, plucking a piece of rotini out of the bowl with his fingers as he walked past.

She scowled at him and got the lid to put on the serving bowl. "I'm heading over to Kate's in about a half an hour. I got a six-pack to bring, too. You want to come?"

Tossing his satchel in his room, he exhaled. "Yeah. That sounds like a good time." He spoke slowly as he glanced through the mail for anything of interest. "I am . . . going to . . . take a shower and get changed. I smell like a sty."

"You smell wonderful, dahlink," she said, trying to sound lighthearted and insincere. She put the bowl of salad in the fridge and went to go get ready herself. From the bathroom, Torc called to her, asking if she was planning to stay long, as he had work in the morning and didn't want to be out late.

"No, I have a long day tomorrow, too," she yelled back. "I don't plan on staying more than a couple hours at the very most."

She wasn't going to get dressed up or put on any makeup just to go to Kate's house. She wore a simple short-sleeved shirt with a light jacket, in case it got chilly outside. She did select a yellow skirt that hugged her figure and showed off more of her legs than usual. Torc threw on a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt.

Once they were both ready to go, they settled on taking Natasha's car together. Being Torc's ride home gave her a good excuse not to stay out too late, too. There were seven other people there, each of whom the duo already knew, to varying degrees. Enough people that they could keep up some good conversations, or sit off to one side by themselves for a while. The evening was cool and clear and the fire pit was the center of attention in the backyard. Beers and a light potluck dinner had everyone feeling good, and Tash and Torc accidentally stayed longer than they'd meant to.

When cake and ice cream was served, Natasha took her paper plate to the table in the corner of the yard. Torc was sitting a few yards away talking to Danny, Dana's boyfriend. He just happened to glance over to where Natasha sat by herself as she was licking the ice cream off the back of her spoon. With her mouth open and tongue out, she was caught off guard by his gaze. Feeling a little silly, she tried to complete the gesture seductively, finishing by laughing at her own foolishness and accidentally smearing a dab of ice cream across her top lip. She wiped it off with a finger and sucked at it, throwing in a wink for good measure.

No one else was looking, and Torc gave her a wry smile, turning his eyes back to Danny, who was talking about football. Subtle, she thought to herself. Subtle and possibly quite idiotic-looking. But she was having such a good time she didn't worry about it much. After the sun set, it occurred to her that it might be getting a little late. She kept talking to her friends-for just a little while, she told herself-until she realized that it was now full dark out. "We should probably get going pretty soon, huh?" she said to Torc, himself embroiled in a debate about which of certain fictional characters would win in a battle.

He checked the time on his phone and said, "Oh, yeah, it's past my bedtime already."

It still took them fifteen minutes to say their goodbyes and head out the door, and Natasha drove the short route back to the apartment. They were still talking and joking with each other through the halls of the building, trying not to be too loud. When they came in the front door, Natasha turned her head this way and that, sniffing the air. "I smell like a campfire," she announced.

Torc, grinning his grin, said, "Yeah, me too."

She sidled up to him, pressing her hip against him, and said, "We should probably get you out of those clothes, then."

"Oh," he said, "Is that right?"

She couldn't tell whether or not he was honestly surprised by her come-on. She didn't care, either. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and began pulling him toward his bedroom. "That's right," she said in what she hoped was a sexy voice.

He didn't put up any resistance as she walked backwards, leading him by the waistband. As she got into his room, she backed up against the foot of the bed and pulled his body against hers. He kissed her eagerly as she held onto his pants tightly. She undid the button on his jeans and then broke the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head.

She sat down on the bed, wrapping her legs around his and pulling him in. He stood there as she pressed her face to his chest, kissing the muscular expanse lightly sprinkled with hair. She ran her hands over his abs and around his back, moving her mouth across his skin, grazing it with her tongue as she took in the taste of him. She kissed up his chest and down his belly, leaning over slightly, unbuttoning her blouse. She kept her legs locked tight around him as though she were afraid he'd escape her probing lips.

Her skirt had three buttons down the side that she struggled to undo while still keeping her lips on Torc. She finally got it loose enough for her satisfaction. She stripped her shirt off, reached back and unhooked her bra, and tried to fling it off, even though one strap remained hooked over an arm. She then pulled Torc's pants and shorts down, and leaned back to wriggle out of her skirt and then her panties.

Torc laughed a little at her haste in getting the both of them undressed. Having kicked off her shoes, she was now mostly naked, save her socks, sitting on the edge of the bed. She licked her fingers and reached down to prepare her vagina for Torc. At the same time, she seized his cock with her other hand, already thick and swollen, and began working at it.

Torc took the time to step out of his pants and shorts, lying tangled around his ankles. Natasha's bra was dangling from her elbow, swinging back and forth as she massaged his cock. He managed to get her to release him long enough to pluck it off her arm and toss it on the floor. Then she was pulling him closer again, hastily swiping the head of his cock around her entrance.

As he began to ease it in, she moaned, both in great pleasure and in anticipation. The feeling of Torc entering her was heavenly. Any thought of anything else had gone straight out of her head. She wanted nothing more than the sensation of being filled up, of being able to harbor him and share her ecstasy with him. Her hands locked around his neck, supporting her as she tried to wrap herself around him.

He held her ass with both hands as he worked his way inside her. His girth was prohibitive. Her body had had less time to make itself wet and inviting for him this time. He had to take short, careful strokes as he stretched out her passageway. "Oh, Torc, you feel so good in me," she breathed, dangling from his neck, feeling her body make room for him.

Soon he began to move more freely within her. Her entire torso moved up and down, her round breasts sliding over his chest. Supported by her arms around his neck and his hands on her ass, she rose up and then dropped onto his thickness, slowly at first. Her desire impelled her to pick up the pace until she was bouncing with vigor, her firm round tits jiggling in front of her. Her breathing grew hard and ragged, punctuated by the "Uh! . . . Uh! . . . Uh!" battered out of her each time she impaled herself on Torc's cock.

Torc only held on tight, balancing himself and trying to prevent Natasha from slipping off the bed. She maintained a dizzying pace for a long time, pausing only now and then to catch her breath and adjust her hold on Torc's neck. He was a rocket inside her, and she needed only to keep herself from flying off as he carried her to the moon.

At last the time came when she could cling to him no more. The thought of his fat rod sliding free from her felt heretical, almost painful. It belonged there; she needed to be full to bursting with his throbbing cock. But Torc's hold on her ass was becoming tenuous from the sweat dripping down her back, and her forearms were growing too sore and weak to do pull-ups on his neck.

She drew herself as tall she could, clinging tightly to him with only her legs as she let her arms fall to her sides. Torc still held her ass to support her and she wriggled on him, trying to work him deeper into her, laughing with the pure joy of feeling. She began to tilt backward and tried to buck her hips a few times as Torc struggled to maintain control, until she finally collapsed on her back on the bed.

Natasha was giggling, hair spilled all round her head. "Oh, god, you don't know how good this feels," she chirped. Torc was still standing upright; she was laid on her back at a perfect right angle to his body, legs still knotted around his waist. As he started moving his hips, driving into her once more, she cried, "Oh! God!" in surprise at the new pleasure that enveloped her.

He was rocking rapidly in and out and she found her body, slick with sweat, sliding up and down over the top of his comforter. It felt like the blanket was moving beneath her. Each thrust pushed her further up toward the head of the bed, and his hand on her waist kept sliding her back toward him, onto his drenched cock as he started the next stroke. It felt like her body was being tossed like a rowboat in a storm. She kept her legs tight around him and pulled him in, again and again, attempting to hang on desperately.

He placed one hand on her, with his palm flat on her lower abdomen. With the heel of his palm just an inch or so above the cleft where he pierced her, the tips of his fingers extended well beyond her belly button. The pressure of his hand was steadying, comforting. But it also made her feel small, in comparison with the size and strength of his hands. Her moans, already intense, became uncontrollable, loud and pleading. "Oh, fuck . . . Torc . . . fuck me . . . yes!" Between his relentless pounding and the hand he'd placed on her abdomen, she felt like her brain was turning to mush. She imagined his cock sticking all the way up through her, into her head, smashing her brain into mulch. Somehow, instead of seeming ridiculous, the image just turned her on even more.

Not being able to reach him from the position she lay in, her hands were working over her breasts. She squeezed them and cupped them, and tugged on her nipples that stood tall and hard. "Oh god, Torc, I'm gonna cum, fuck me, fuck me, fuck!!" she cried out.

"Oh, I'm going to cum, Tash!" he panted. He moved his hand back so both his hands held her hips. Embracing her small frame like this, he began to fuck her even harder, lifting her off the mattress, shaking her whole body back and forth like she'd just come out of a Polaroid camera. Her orgasm came first, rattling through her like branches in a gale. She screamed, words finally lost, and her legs seized around Torc's ass, crushing him to her, holding him tight as her warm juices gushed around him.

This pushed him over the top and he could only grunt an apoplectic reply as his body heaved within her grip. He was so big and tightly sheathed inside her that she could feel each massive throb of his cock within the walls of her pussy, each jet of cum as it spurted and oozed within her. His hands were frozen tight around her waist; her hands shot down to grab his wrists, to have something to hold on to. At the peak of her orgasm, it seemed just as determined as he was not to let her go. Her moaning turned to a high-pitched whine, and still the moment of ecstasy stretched on. The groans from Torc's mouth and the cum filling her up, too, seemed to last forever. Every nerve in her body was twanging, alert, firing signals in every direction.

Finally he gasped and she could feel the tension in his wrists and his lower back release. He sagged slightly but didn't collapse on her. Her orgasm was receding slowly, leaving behind tide pools of nervous energy that sent sporadic chills and twitches throughout her. She was still holding on to his wrists like she thought she might fall into the abyss if she let go. She was also reasonably sure that her brain had turned completely to mush. She thought if she tried to speak, only gibberish would come out.