No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 08

She awoke the next morning, alone in the bed, the sheets a mess around her. She looked out to see a gorgeous day, the sun was up, the balcony was empty. She shuddered at the memory of the night's escapade and suppressed the growing sense of shame and arousal.

Voices outside the bedroom door sparked a reaction to cover herself up. Feeling vulnerable she raced out of bed to grab a robe before listening more closely.

Realizing it was Monty, likely talking to a hotel staff, she opened the door quietly and saw a breakfast cart laid out in the front room.

"I just love hotel rooms. I don't know why...I guess because they have such anonymity...they give you license to do things you'd never do at home." He was smiling at her even as he untied his robe and let it fall. "Let's eat naked!"

She smiled at his boyish enthusiasm and let him remove her robe, feeling the tingling of exposure even if it was just for him. He invited her to sit with him.

"I've got to pee first, sweetie...I'll be right there." She realized the term of endearment was the first she'd uttered, hiding her self-consciousness by turning back to the bathroom.

Aren't we getting domestic? She thought about her comfort with announcing "I've got to pee," and her discomfort at calling him sweetie, and then her further discomfort at the stinging of her urine flowing across her labia. How much did we do it last night? And then the memory of being exposed on the balcony, but more importantly, the way he had forced himself into her, forced her to shout out and beg him to fuck her. It all came rushing back along with her urine. She dabbed lightly at herself, feeling the intensity of their lovemaking echoing through her.

You are turning into his slut. The thought appeared in her mind for the umpteenth time in two days and it frightened her a little. It must be true. She still felt their relationship was so unbalanced; she'd never wanted to be dependent on a man and here she was moving within circles she couldn't have even imagined two months ago.

It could still be innocent. She tried to argue against the idea of being his mistress. She'd had lovers ask her to talk dirty before, but this was so different. Monty hadn't been like that until last night...and his playfulness just now with the robes off for breakfast. Maybe there was something about being in a hotel room...Maybe it had something to do with the therapy...and maybe she was just his little whore.

He prepared his coffee and toast, looking out over the ocean and thoroughly enjoying himself. When she returned he let his eyes travel over her, soaking in her beauty, the way her hips curved to meet her waist, the perfect proportion of her breasts and that wonderful, gorgeous neck.

"I could look at you all my life," he said, welcoming her to the table.

She blushed at the idea of him staring at her, and at his complement, or was it at sitting naked in a hotel room performing a normal daily activity like sipping coffee? She couldn't meet his gaze for a moment, overcome with a sense of shame...and damn arousal. What's he doing to me? Is this going to go on all weekend?

"So," he said between sips, "Do you have anything you really want to do this morning before we have to go our separate ways?" Their knees touched under the table, reminding her of being exposed.

"I was hoping we could hit the beach before it got too hot...what time is it, anyway?"

"Excellent. This place has the best beaches in the cove. 8:30."

"Do you think it'll be warm enough to go right after breakfast? When do you need to get back?"

"I got a text that the meeting at 2PM got moved up to a lunch, so I'm afraid I'm going to abandon you a little earlier than I had hoped. And yes, it's already pretty warm out there."

They quickly finished, threw on their suits and headed out.

"What should I do, do you think?" She walked beside him, her feet sinking beneath the warm surface of the beach to the cooler wet sand below.

"Hell, there's so much to do...oh you knew that, you read the literature....well, I've only ever been here for meals and meetings. I have had a massage at the spa -- I'd highly recommend that -- and there's always the possibility of renting a boat and going fishing or sailing..."

He was leading them away from the area demarked by the hotel to a narrow strip of beach abutting the cliffs. She was curious why they weren't just plunking down in front of the hotel -- it wasn't as if there crowds.

"Look at that," he pointed excitedly out to the horizon. "I think I saw a whale spout."

She turned to look even as she kept walking, trying to avoid the rocks from the cliff and the waves coming on shore. The strip continued for several dozen yards, eventually broadening into a crescent shaped cove completely separate from the hotel side. As they passed the strip she saw a sign just off to her right but it was already out of her field of vision before she could read it.

She looked out to sea again and saw a faint wisp of mist off to the...south, she figured, based on the sun. She pointed and confirmed she had seen it too.

He had gotten a little ahead of her, choosing a spot up from the waves and tucked a little back from the neck of beach they'd just crossed.

She trudged up and laid her towel down next to his. Looking back she couldn't even see the strip where they had just come from. It looked like the waves had already come up to the rocks.

"Are we going to be able to get back okay?" She sat down on the towel and got out her lotion.

"No problem. High tide is in about 20 minutes and that strip will open up again in about 2 hours. You could still walk it if you needed to, but it should be nice and quiet in the meantime. Here, let me help you."

He took the bottle and poured a generous amount in his palm, rubbing it into her shoulders, and that neck. As he moved the lotion around, he came to the strap of her bathing suit, moving it aside, until finally tiring of dealing with it, unsnapped it.

She giggled and shrieked a little at the surprise, reaching her hands up to stop it from falling from her breasts. "Monty!"

"It's okay," he laughed, stroking her bare back with the excess lotion. "Let it drop. There's no one here, and there won't be anyone for a few hours."

She hesitated for a moment, holding her top against her breasts. "Monty, I...I'm not..." She turned her head to look at him.

He continued to rub lotion down her back, along her sides and up her ribs. "Come on. Help me get you oiled up."

He put down the lotion and gently pulled on her hands, pulling her top away. She looked down to see her nipples harden, whether from the light breeze, the exposure itself, or the feeling of submission that briefly registered. A pulse of arousal pinched at her groin.

His hands came around, the lotion cold to her skin. He rubbed his palms on her small breasts and by the way he was circling his hands, she knew he was enjoying feeling her hard nipples. His hands worked their way down her stomach, like last night pulling her back into him, exposing her to the air. Even though she knew they were alone, she couldn't stop the feeling of being watched. And the growing itch it was causing between her legs. Again, the idea she was his slut raced across her mind.

When his hands came down to her bikini bottoms she stopped him and turned to face him.

"Monty. I...I really need to talk with you."

He looked at her, as usual his face betrayed little emotion, but his eyes were curious.

"I...Haven't you wondered what's been going on this week? I mean...we haven't seen each other and then, last night..." She hoped he would fill in the blanks and help her.

He just shook his head slightly, looking confused, prompting her to continue.

"I mean...the way we...what we did on the balcony. It was..." She flapped her hands trying to get it out..."It was...intense." She cursed herself silently for being so stupid.

He raised his eyebrows and looked down at her breasts, his hands wiping the remnant of lotion on the skin just under her nipples. He unsnapped his trunks and slid them down to his knees, performing a complex maneuver getting them off.

She looked at his cock -- it was getting stiff again and she couldn't help but lick her lips.

"Intense." He said, laying his trunks aside and facing her again on his knees.

"You know," she kept looking between his erection and his face. "When you...forced yourself into me..."

"Wait a sec. Forced myself into you? I don't remember forcing anything into you. Didn't you want to make love last night? Weren't you the one who was practically shouting at me to fuck her?" He didn't say it accusingly, he seemed sincerely confused.

It was true, she realized. She had practically begged him to fuck her...he had been teasing her so long she needed him to bring her over the top...but that was later..."I just felt...feel...I just feel like I'm...like you're expecting me to...shit...I feel like I'm a whore." She practically whispered the last phrase, looking down at the sand.

"My whore." He let out a sigh and sank back onto his heels, his hands draping down her sides to her bikini. He worked it down until she was practically exposed, the material bunching up against her heels, stretched across her hips.

She felt even more cheap than if she were naked --the material like a cotton handcuff across her legs, but covering nothing. She rose up and helped him push it down, lifting one knee and then the other sliding it off her feet.

"I'll make a deal," he said, applying more lotion to her hips and buns, his fingers beginning to ply inside her crevices. "I won't bore you with lectures about tantric sex, and you won't get your head all messed up about being anyone's whore. How about," he spread her legs a little making a triangle from her crotch and knees against the towel, "you pretend we are here together on a date, and you are here to have fun?"

"But...really...Monty. What can I give you? You have everything. You're richer than god, you can have anyone in the world. Why me?" She reached up to touch his nipple, lightly stroking him, searching his face for some kind of clue of his feelings. Something flickered in his eyes. Annoyance? Malice? It was there and then it was gone, too fleeting to be sure.

He smiled. "There are a thousand things you can give me -- the pleasure of your company, your laugh, a child." He said the last so quietly she wasn't sure she'd heard it correctly, and his mouth was bent down onto her nipples, sucking at them, sending pulses of electricity into her chest. She pulled on his nipples in frustration trying to keep his attention on the conversation. She moaned.

"Please...Monty. Please....just stop for a second. I'm serious." She managed to push him back up and held his face in front of hers. "What is happening?"

"What do you want to happen?" His fingers reached between her legs, sliding them between her lips, her moisture betraying her. "Is it too difficult to imagine having a wonderful time at a great resort -- no worries, nothing to do but relax, get a tan, have a spa..." He pulled his fingers through her once more and then brought them up between them, sliding them into his mouth. "Mmmmmm, you taste wonderful."

She shuddered at the thought of him eating her and of taking him into her throat. Slut! She couldn't keep her eyes off his erection -- its head was purple, pointing straight up at her, it would only be a small movement to take him deep into her throat.

"But..."she continued to resist the urge...she had to know. "Did...you say child?"

He smiled again, licking his lips. "Child, laughter, your company...a thousand things you can give me. The future is full of promise. But right now, in this present, can't we just enjoy ourselves and not worry about what future we'll become?" He reached over and kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth before she could stop him, his hands holding her shoulders. She could taste herself faintly on his lips.

She wanted him to take her, right then, force himself on her again, like he had last night, and she wanted him to admit that she wasn't anything but a fuck toy, but she wanted to believe it was just here and now, and to just let go of her insanity and enjoy the present. She pushed herself against him, letting her nipples press into his chest, offering herself to him, even as the force of his kiss pushed her head backward.

She could feel herself falling backward and panicked at the thought of breaking her legs. She reached back with her hands onto the towel behind her and stopped their backward motion in a precarious balance. He broke the kiss and tumbled off her, laughing.

She gasped for breath, realizing once again she was stripped naked, exposed to him, exposed to the elements, to anyone who might walk by and she couldn't stop the arousal building inside her.

"Here," he said, reaching for her. "let me help you." He pulled her up gently, letting her get her legs unbent from under her, laying her down onto the towel. Before she could say anything further, he had turned himself around and began kissing her from her navel down towards her slit.

"Monty...wait...please..."

He pulled her legs apart enough to give him access to her cunny and slowly kissed his way between her lips, lingering on her clit with his tongue until she stopped protesting.

"God...Monty...please....no...not out here...someone will...oh god...yes...no...Monty...please...oh yes...shit that feels so great...right there...yes...god...yes."

She looked up to see his erection just over her head and she reached for it, pulling it into her mouth. She wanted it deep inside her throat but she knew she couldn't from this angle. She ran her tongue along the shaft, feeling his warmth, its head pushing against the back of her mouth. She sucked the air out, moving the inside of her cheeks against the sides of it, making a wet velvety pocket. Her orgasm was building from his tongue and fingers; she moved her hands to his ass, pulling it towards her, forcing his cock as deep into her mouth as she could manage.

He pulled away and she moaned, her disappointment muffled by his penis. And then he was back, starting again at the top of her slit and working down until his tongue was deep inside her, his fingers spreading her open. She could feel the budding of her orgasm and she wanted to turn it back onto his cock, moving with the same rhythm, and then he pulled away again.

She pulled him out of her. "Shit! Monty..please...don't stop. Please, baby, you feel so good. Your tongue is like...fuck...it's like magic..." As she rambled, she kissed the tip of his purple head, licking at the hole. She pushed herself down towards his mouth, bending her back a little to give her more room and bent her head back, stretching her neck. She felt his lips against her cunny again and reached for his cock.

She guided it past her lips, along her tongue until she felt it at the top of her throat. Focusing on her breath, she slipped it down, the gagging erupting outside her control, until her throat opened to accept his erection. She moved slowly, using her throat as a substitute vagina, breathing through the gagging, the intensity of his lips against her clit sending bursts of orange arousal up her spine.

Once again he pulled his mouth away, but kept his cock deep in her throat. Slowly he fucked her in and out, pulling it to the top of her throat and then pushing it in. She held his ass cheeks tightly, gagging and drooling around his meat, moaning for him to reciprocate. She could feel him resting on his elbows, his head nowhere near her cunt, as he slowly fucked her throat, leaving her unsatisfied.

She couldn't push him away. She didn't want to push him away. She knew she was his slut and she accepted her role. She wanted nothing more in the world at that moment than to feel him come, to feel his seed burst from him into her throat, but she knew she would be denied even that satisfaction.

In a small part of her brain she also knew he could keep this up all day; that she was at his mercy when he would let her go, and this only added to her certainty that she was nothing more than his fuck toy, his slut for the weekend, and she felt herself getting even more aroused at the thought.

She left her body, floating above them on the sand, watching as he fucked her throat, her legs spread open beneath his face as he drifted back and forth over her, her breasts brushing against his stomach and she didn't fight him; it was her fate to be here, to be his slut, to be the slut she knew she was.

And she realized the voice in her head wasn't hers. She let him fuck her as the realization blossomed around her. Fucking cunt. Fuck-ing cunt. His cock moved slowly in and out with each syllable, and she heard her step-mother abusing her. Slut! FuckIngCunt FuckIngCunt. She lay there, the orgasm ebbing and flowing as his cock fucked her throat, his breath the only force against her swollen lips. God, just let me come...please!

As he pushed into her on the next beat she held him with her hands, the pounding of her heart in rhythm with the sounds of her step-mother's screaming. And as she held him there, something clicked! and her stepmother's voice was gone, replaced by the crashing of the waves and the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. And at that moment, he stiffened and she held him tightly against her as he trembled against her mouth and throat.

He gently pulled out of her, careful not to move too quickly. She could feel tears running down her cheeks and she was surprised.

He lay down next to her, his fingers wiping the tears from her cheeks. "What's going on?" His voice was tender. She could feel his erection against her thigh.

She didn't know. For the second time in a week she'd faced the echo of her stepmother's anger and this time she had silenced it. She was crying as much from relief -- the quiet in her head was like waking up fresh in the morning -- as from the frustration in not coming. Without her stepmother's screaming, she reflected on the idea of being his whore, if not forever at least for the weekend and again she felt a rush of arousal.

Why not? No one knows me here. I could be his $1000 a day escort. What would be the harm? She smiled at the image of her stepmother screaming behind a glass wall, receding into the distance. I am not a slut! But I can play one on T.V. Why not play this up for as long as it lasts? Fuck him if he can't see me for what I'm really worth. If he thinks I'm just his plaything, fuck it, I'll be his plaything!

She turned to him and kissed him, inhaling the aroma of her cunny painted on his face. She wanted to roll over on top of him and slip his hard cock into her, but the memory of how tender she was stopped her. It was one thing to have him licking her; she'd have to wait a little longer to have his dick inside her.

"Are you okay?" He pulled back a little to look at her, his hands slowly rubbing her ribs and breasts.

"I'm great," she said with a sleepy smile. "I love it when you fuck my throat." She kissed him again, the taste of herself sending another jolt up her spine. "I just wish I could have gone over the top."

"I...stopped," he kissed her cheek and eyelids. "It didn't seem like you were ready." He said it with a strange tone.

She looked at him trying to decipher his meaning. "Ready?"

"It just seemed like you were distracted."

"It's okay. I just...well, with how much we've been doing it, I'm feeling a little rough down there, but your tongue...your tongue is so great...I guess I couldn't quite manage to come when I had you so deep in my throat." She kissed him again, pushing her tongue into his mouth tasting herself.