The 7 Secrets of Mr. Magpie Ch. 02

"And good luck to you, Raf," Christof said to me. "I know you're a man of steel. Be strong." He raised a fist in solidarity to me, as the image froze, reaching the end of the video.

"So are you game?" Freya said, taking the phone back from my hands. "If not, I need to let Christof know and move on to my second choice. I just got a text message from him saying Lara's agreed to it."

It was ridiculous, to be sure, but there was also something about getting over someone by getting them under you one last time, and maybe, I realized, I'd never fully gotten over being abandoned by Freya, just as college ended.

Fuck it, I thought. I didn't really have anything to lose.

"Yeah, hell with it," I said. "Why not."

"Okay one sec," she said, tapping a button to make a call on her phone, holding it up to her ear. "He's game. Ready then? Three. Two. One. Begin." She hung up the phone and tossed it onto my coffee table as she moved closer to me with a wicked smile.

The thing I will tell you about Freya is that she has always known how to use her size to her advantage, to make people feel intimidated by her presence. She was 6'7" and played basketball while we were in college. She was good too, with a long reach and strong sense of what was going on around her at all times. The first year or so of us dating, she would lean over me during arguments, to get me to back down quicker, but by the time we were seniors, I'd grown immune to that trick, and I was pleased to see that whatever resistance I'd built up to that particular mannerism of hers, it was still holding inside of me.

"I know you're thinking you want to resist as long as possible, Raf, but believe me when I tell you, I am going to win this, whether you like it or not," she said, that overly confident smile I remembered all too well making its reappearance. "So you might as well touch me so we can move on to the fun parts."

This was going to be theraputic, I thought to myself, as I slid my hands off the armrests of the chair and folded them behind my back. "Jesus, Frey, you always did love to hear yourself talk, as if the sound of your own voice was the greatest music you could ever hear."

She smiled at me, taking off her glasses, setting them on the coffee table next to her phone, before turning her gaze back at me. "I seem to recall you liking it a great deal yourself, Mister. I know how dirty words make your cock twitch. I bet they still do," she said, reaching forward to smooth one of her hands along my cheek before running her fingertips through my scraggly black goatee. "I remember how I wouldn't let you grow facial hair when we were dating, because I thought it would be all scratchy when you were going down on me."

"A favor you never returned, I'd like to remind you."

She giggled, trying to sound like the twenty-year old girl I'd met in sophomore English composition class. "I'm a good little cocksucker these days, though. If you want, you can just push my head down and give it a go."

"Or I can not fall for your obvious ploy," I said, rolling my eyes. Freya had always over estimated her ability to manipulate people. "No dice. Maybe later, though."

"C'mon Raf," she said, her fingertips trailing along my collarbone slowly. "Wouldn't you love to just hold my head down, force your cock into my throat and just hold it there until I'm coughing around it, my eyes all watering up? You can fuck my face like you've always wanted to, make me gasp and plead for air, all the while I'm still begging for more?" She placed her other hand on my knee and smoothed it along my thigh. "I bet if I rub against this cock, I'm gonna find it nice and hard, aren't I?"

"You can't take my clothes off, Freya," I warned her. "Those are your rules, remember?"

"I can't, but I can rub your cock through them," she said with a giggle. "That's technically within the rules."

I unfolded one of my arms from behind my back and grabbed the wrist of her hand on my cock, pulling it over to the arm of the chair, holding it there forcibly. "Then I suppose so is this, isn't it? In fact, I could just tie you up and leave you there for as long as I wanted, and that's not touching you sexually."

She stuck her tongue out at me, rolling her eyes. "You're no fun. Fine, I won't touch your cock until after the game, although I might rub up against it every so often." She turned to rub her ass against my crotch for just a minute, giving it a little bounce before standing up again, pulling her hand back from mine only long enough to drag her fingernails across my chest through my t-shirt. "We were good together, Raf, and with what I've learned over the years, we could be so much better. I can be whatever you want."

"What if I don't want you, Freya?" I said. I knew that in the end, I was going to give in. The years had only made her more beautiful, and knowing it would be a nothing off limits, no consequences fling was certainly appealing, but I wasn't going to make it easy on her. The heartache over the years had built in some resentment inside me that was doubling as armor. "What if nothing you do can make me want to touch you?"

She rolled her eyes again, grinning at me. "Give me a little credit, Raf," she said, sliding her fingertips along the back of my head. "I'm just getting started, and I'd like to think I'm pretty good at getting guys all worked up, what with my strong thighs, my luscious ass and my firm tits. Ooo! I don't know if you noticed, but they're bigger now than when we were together. I know you always tried to make me feel better about having small tits, but after I moved to Copenhagen and I found out how cheap it was to get them done, I got them enhanced, so they're nice and big now. I even shelled out a good amount of money to make sure they were as good as possible. No scarring, they feel natural, they aren't too big for my frame... now I'm just a pretty girl with the size of tits I always should've had growing up. You want to touch them?" Her fingertips were toying with her top.

"I'm not going to, Freya," I said, starting to see the fun in the game, especially watching her pout every time I told her no. "Not for a good long while."

"Well, I guess there's no reason I can't show them to you," she said, grabbing her top to pull it aside, her tits dropping one at a time like strikes on a drum, dum dum, and she was right, they were much fuller than they had been in college. Back in college, Freya had wavered between an A cup and a B cup, depending on how her diet was for the particular month. Now she was easily a C cup, if not a D cup, and they did look entirely natural, large heavy swells of soft flesh capped with dark pink stiff nipples, one of them a little bit longer than the other, like maybe it had been pierced at some time, but wasn't any more. "See?" She made a hand bra for herself, clutching her large breasts in her fingers, squeezing on the massive mounds, a delighted look crossing her face. "And they're still, like, totally sensitive. I was worried I wasn't going to be able to get a nipplegasm after they did it, but I still absolutely can." She licked her lips slowly, then brought one of her breasts up to her mouth, proving she could flick her tongue against it before letting the mound fall. "You remember that time you made me cum just from playing with my nipples while we were at my little sister's play? God, I felt like such a dirty whore, trying to swallow my moans, biting down on my sweater even as you were twisting my nip and making me cream my jeans. I had to wear my sweater around my waist, 'cause I was afraid the dampness would seep through and show."

"Hey, you bet me I couldn't get you to do it, because we were surrounded by people, and you'd be too nervous," I scolded. "That's what you said to me, remember?"

"Oh, I remember," she said with a nod. "And I remember I stiffed you on the bet too, because I was sooo confident you wouldn't be able to do it, I agreed to let you fuck me bent over something..."

"...which you never let me do..."

"...which I never let you do... but you could do it now... You could bend me over this coffee table and ram me until my knees go weak... You could shove me down on all fours on your couch and ram me from behind... whenever you touch me, your twelve hours of 'anything goes' starts, so why are you waiting?" Her fingertips were tugging her skirt upwards a little bit now, swishing it around as it lifted to expose her calves. "You can grab this, flip it over my head and pound away..."

"Except that I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of winning, Freya," I told her.

"Come onnnnnn, Raf," she whined. "Don't you wanna fuck me? I know I wanna fuck you... that's why I'm here... other than Christof, you were the best fuck I ever had..."

"And that's why you're losing, Freya," I told her. "Just like back then, it's all 'you you you' and never about me, what I want, what I need, what I'd like." I shook my head with a smile. "God, you always were like this, weren't you? Unable to think about anyone other than yourself for any length of time, even if you really wanted something. Shit, I can do this all damn day..."

She frowned for a second, the mask of unbreakable confidence shattering in that instant, as she looked at me with genuine concern, as it dawned on her that she was entirely capable of losing this little game with her husband-to-be, and that I wasn't the pushover I'd been in college.

She may not have changed, but I certainly had.

"Then what do you want, Raf?" she said, deciding to see if it was in her to switch tactics. "Do you want a woman who pushes you around? Do you want a whimpering little virgin, so shy, but so willing for you to take her? Do you want a wanton, desperate slut, so blind with lust for you that she'll do anything, say anything, just to get your affection? What is it you want out of a woman, Raf?"

I chuckled, nodding my head. "Yeah, that's what I figured. You don't even know what I want, Freya, because you thought I should just consider myself lucky to be with you. So we always ate where you wanted to eat, watched the shows you wanted to watch, listened to the music you wanted to listen to, but you never bothered to learn the things that made me happy, never took the time to figure out how to give instead of receive."

"Raf," she whined. "Even if you aren't going to do it, tell me what it is... you're right. I was a shitty girlfriend, and I didn't care about you like you cared about me. I see that now. Shit, maybe that was the point of all this, that both Christof and I confront the mistakes we made in the past so we don't make them moving forward, because I don't know enough about what he likes, what turns him on. So help me learn, help me learn how to make amends and how to better please a partner instead of thinking like a stuck up bitch the whole time."

"Asking isn't enough, Freya," I told her, shaking my head. "It's a start, and shit, maybe it's where you need to start, but you need to be able to learn how to read your partner, how to spot the subtle signals. Shit, do you even know what turns Christof on, because I don't think you ever figured out what turns me on. Maybe you just lucked into it from time to time."

She groaned, her face scrunching up in frustration, as she moved to sit on my lap, her legs on either side of me, just inches between her titflesh and my face, as if she knew pressing her boobs against my mouth would be a step too far. "Then tell me, Raf, so I can do that! I'm trying to turn you on, and I just don't get it!"

I decided to help her out and give her at least a starting point. "It's real simple, Freya. I even played a song around the house all the time, hoping you would get the idea. Like Cheap Trick said, 'I want you to want me.' You need to make me feel important, to feel wanted, to feel needed. Every chance you got, you made it clear that was I was just holding the seat until someone better came around, and I know you think it was just playful teasing, but that shit stung, and it hung over my head for a long time."

She looked like she was about to say something so I cut her off and started talking again. I wasn't done; shit, I was barely getting started.

"You never wanted me, you just wanted a cock around whenever you needed it. You wanted someone to bolster your confidence and you never wanted to do anything to boost mine. Fuck, most of the time, you were trying to make me feel worse about myself, so that I wouldn't ditch you. At least that's how it felt at the time. I could've been anybody, because you didn't give a damn about me or what I wanted. When you told me you didn't suck cock, I said okay. When you told me your ass was exit only, I said okay. When you told me you only liked sex when you could make eye contact, I said okay. You set down all these rules, and I respected them... but fuck, Freya, you never once respected me or what I wanted."

The look on her face said that I had shattered her worldview, and suddenly she was looking back at all the experiences we'd shared in our two years together in college in an entirely new light. I wasn't trying to be mean; I was trying to get through to her, to make her consider things from a point of view other than her own.

"I should've broken our relationship off after just a few weeks, but I started believing you when you told me I couldn't do any better, that I'd end up alone and that nobody would love me if you didn't. My friends back then hated you, because they said you treated me like shit, and I just kept telling them that they didn't know you like I did, but now I can see that they were right, and I should have gotten clear of you, because you never put anybody's needs above your own. You can't take take take and never give anything back. Maybe you aren't that way now, but you certainly were when we were together, and to me, it doesn't seem much like you've changed."

Honestly, it almost looked like she wanted to break down crying, and from my coffee table came a sound from her phone, a quick blast of Beethoven's "Ode To Joy." She looked over her shoulder with a slight sniff, fighting back the tears, before she looked back at me. "Well, it doesn't matter now," she sighed. "You won, I lost. Or, I guess, Christof won. Either way I still lost."

I took her hand in mine, holding it gently. "Can I tell you the most important thing you need to keep in mind right now?"

"That I'm a failure?" she sniffed, the tears threatening to come hard and fast. "No no, I got that already, Raf."

"You're not a failure, Freya," I laughed, rolling my eyes. "You're past the hardest part now - admitting to yourself that you have a problem. That's always the first step towards fixing the problem. You don't have to stay the way you were. And maybe you're already part way there. Christof asked you to marry him, so clearly you aren't as bad as you were back in college."

"Well, I'm still way too selfish a bitch," she said, settling her ass down on my knees. "Even now, thinking back to all the things I demanded that I get my way for the wedding, fuck, it's a wonder anyone wants to be with me."

"Then change," I told her. "Figure out how you can give a little, or give a lot, and where compromising won't kill you. Remember how I went with you to your sister's play, and then like a month later, I had to go to that formal dinner for the opening of my friend's art gallery, and you just refused to go with me? I asked like twice, and both times you gave me some lame excuse."

She nodded, having pushed back the tears now, but still being near that edge of crying. "Fuck! I do that to Christof, too!" Freya leaned down and hugged me hard. "I needed this. Fuck I needed to hear this years and years ago, Rafael, but I don't think I would've been ready before now. And I am going to make it up to you. For the next twelve hours, I'm going to focus entirely on you. I was going to sort of half-ass it before, since I figured if there was anything you wanted that I really didn't want to do, I could weasel my way out of it, but now I want to know what you want." She kissed my cheek then turned my head and pressed my lips against hers, her tongue sliding into my mouth as she moaned into me, her hips scooting just a little bit forward on my lap. "Beyond me wanting you, because fuck, when Christof and I came up with this idea, I... my pussy got wet at the thought of getting to fuck you again."

"You don't have to lie to me and say I was the best you ever had, Frey," I said with a soft laugh.

She shook her head emphatically. "I wouldn't do that to you, Raf. And you aren't the best, but you were the second best, behind Christof, and I think Christof got the benefit of all the other guys over the years breaking down some of my prudish barriers." She leaned in and flicked her tongue along the shell of my ear. "I was fingering myself thinking about getting the chance to suck you off for the first time in my hotel room this morning," she whispered at me. "I hoped you'd be standing up, with me down on my fucking knees. I knew I hurt you, and I felt like if you wanted to hurt me back, well, I'd been such a bitch that I probably deserved it. And I kinda liked how it felt, knowing I'd be punished by the man who'd earned that right more than anyone else."

"Let me see the phone," I told her.

"What?" she said.

"Let me see the phone," I repeated.

She slipped from my lap, looking at me shyly, then picked it up, unlocking it before holding it out to me. "You don't trust me, huh? I guess that's fair. I'm not above being a lying, manipulative bitch."

I took the phone from her hand and saw the message from Christof from a couple of minutes, saying "I win" with a photo attached of a woman's hand wrapped around what I assumed was his cock, and I have to say that while Christof's dick certainly looked longer than mine, it was also skinny as a garden hose, no real thickness to it at all.

"Okay," I said, standing up. "Just wanted to be sure." I handed the phone back to her, and then grabbed her shoulders and forced her down onto her knees, but even then, she was still too tall to be face level with my crotch. "Unfold your legs."

"God yes," she said, her sky blue eyes looking up at me adoringly, lifting one leg to unfold it before doing the other, sitting on her ass with her legs in a V shape surrounding me. "I want this. I want you to do this. I want you so bad, I'm itchy and wet."

"Prove it."

Freya licked her lips and then nodded, reaching down to draw up her long, flowy skirt until it was at her waist level, exposing she hadn't worn any panties on underneath, lifting the skirt up and over her head, setting it aside before she reached a hand down to rub two fingers across her snatch, pushing her middle digit in before sliding it out, holding it up to me, an offering for me to lick up.

"Clean it off yourself," I said to her, a tiny hint of that lingering frustration still rolling around inside of me. "You know what bothered me the most about you not sucking cock, Freya? The fucking hypocrisy of it all, because you wanted me to eat your pussy every fucking chance you got. And I did. I licked you out until my tongue was sore and my jaw ached, and never once, not one fucking time did you return the favor."

She reached up and started unbuttoning my jeans frantically. "Then I've got a lot of cock sucking to make up for it, don't I?" she said, before yanking my pants and my boxers down to my ankles with one hand, the other reaching up to stroke my cock, bringing it to her lips, pushing her mouth down it like she was going to die if she didn't force the head of into her throat. She was groaning with excitement, drooling and slobbering all over my shaft, as she pulled back long enough to inhale a deep lungful of air and then instantly dove her face back down again, her eyes tilted up the entire time to hold my gaze, almost daring me to look away.