Thursday, July 25, 2013

62: Shocked




Jesse




     Marie screams my name. Oh yes. That's what Daddy needs to hear. Scream it, Baby!
     She's so fucking tiny; our first time is going to be incredible.
      I groan as I think about it.
      Her hips start moving as I fuck her with my face, her movements an instinctual reaction to every swipe of my tongue. She's completely under my control, and I feel her body shudder. She's close.
       Yeah, baby. Give it to me!
      "Oh, shit, Jesse!" she screams.
      I should've counted the number of times she's screamed it. Oh well. Next time.
      If this is new to her, I'd better make this damn good.
      I aid her orgasm with my tongue before quickly pulling my head back and sliding in two of my fingers to press hard on her sweet spot, wondering how far I can take them.
      God, she's beautiful, I think as I watch her body move to my fingers' movements. I press in a little more.
      She has a hymen.
     Oh holy fuck! I scream in my head as I gasp. She's a virgin!
      I feel all the blood leave my face as I pull my fingers out of her. I then plant my face into the sheets, not sure if I want to scream, cry, or (strangely) laugh.
       A shaky breath escapes me as I see everything with a new perspective... everything we've said, everything I've done, everything I've said..., and I want to beat the shit out of myself.
       She didn't have sex with any of them, I think as I hear her breathing start to get under control. I pushed... so hard... tonight... almost every night like this... to an innocent.
       Sure, she's eight years younger, but she'd had three serious boyfriends. I assumed... I was an ass.
       Why didn't she tell me?
       I sit up and look at her. Why didn't I guess it before?


       I crawl up a little towards her to make my head level with hers as I patiently (I hope anyway) ask, "Marie?" She stirs, indicating she's aware but still out of it. "When were you going to tell me you're a virgin?"
        She freezes as what I asked sinks in. Please don't get upset.
        Her hands come up and cover her face in a gesture of embarrassment. No! Don't be embarrassed!
       "Marie, don't -"
       "I'm sorry!" she cries through her hands.
       "No! I'm only a little shocked. Don't cry again, please." I pull her to me and try to comfort her, but she adamantly pushes me away. Then, I watch, broken-hearted, as she works on pulling the sheet over her head.
      No you don't!
      I reach around to get under the sheet myself and pull her against me, her back to my front. Then I jerk the sheet off her head so she can't hide.



      "Don't you try and push me away and go try to hide from me, Marie. I won't let you," I growl.
      "Leave me alone."
      "No."
      She takes a couple of shaky breaths and stops trying to break free. "Okay. I should've told you, but how? That's not exactly an easy conversation topic. Besides, you haven't even been my boyfriend for a whole day yet!"
      I think for a minute. "Very good points. I'm sorry I asked you that. I'm just so surprised."
      "Why?"
      "Because I thought you had with one of them."
      "No. In fact, I think that's why Dawson cheated on me. But I just couldn't after the way Armand treated me!"
      "Tell me about it. I need to understand," I quietly beg. "Please."
      After a deep breath, she says, "Dawson was so nice, but I couldn't get how Armand treated me out of my head. Now that I'm away from all that, I know Armand's the real asshole."
      So I have a new name to hate. Reminds me of 'Interview with a Vampire.'
      "What did Armand do?"
      "It'll sound ridiculous to you since you don't understand."
      "But I want to understand," I plead.
       After another deep breath and a huff, she turns around in my arms, wincing as she accidentally hurts her knee. "Don't be mad at me."
      "I'm not mad at you. I'm desperate to understand you," I say, and she nuzzles her forehead into my chest before I hold her tightly to me. Thank God that's apparently what she wants me to do.



      "Armand made me feel like I was a stupid coward because I didn't want to on our first date after I broke up with him."
      "Why did you break up with him?"
      "Because he hit me. He slapped me across the face so hard he left a bruise."
      "WHAT?!" I yell. "And you agreed to go out with him again?!"
      "I was used to him being a little mean, and he apologized his ass off-"
      "It doesn't matter!" I interrupt her excuses.
      "You're right. I shouldn't have, but I did."
      "And he expects sex on the first date after that?!"
      "I think he thought it would mend our relationship."
      "I don't know the man, and I already hate him!" I pant from barely-controlled rage. Taking a few deep breaths, I go back to something she said a little earlier. "You said you were used to him being mean. Why?"  I am so glad she didn't have him for her first time!
       "Because he was always that way."
       "How?"
       "Well, for example, he didn't like me being friends with Dawson, and he took every opportunity he could to let me know that. He said I was too stupid to see that Dawson was only friends with me because he was waiting around until Armand and I broke up. He was kind of right about that even if Dawson and I have been friends since childhood. Then there was that time I made my hair black."
        "Black. Wow," I say as I try to imagine it. "Did he often call you stupid?" I ask, noticing a small theme.


       "A lot."
       "Why did you stay with him?"
       "It got to be a habit. He wasn't always bad. He was lots of fun a lot too."
       "Before he left a bruise on your face." I point out dryly, noticing how quickly she defended him. I don't like the mental image of a bruised Marie. This Armand had better wish he never meets me. I reach up and run the backs of my fingers along her cheekbone. "I'm sorry," I say.
       "For what?"
       "For pressuring you."
       "You didn't know, and we already discussed this ... on the couch," she says, closing her eyes as I stroke her face repeatedly.
        "If I'd known-"
        "You'd what?" she snaps, her eyes opened again. "You'd treat me different?"
        "Yes."
        "Why?"
        She sounds hurt. Still, I have to give her the blunt truth.
        "Because you're an innocent."
        "No I'm not!"
        "Oh you're not?" I ask, humoring her. Then I get an idea, and a grin covers my face. I lean towards her and say quietly, "So you wouldn't be shocked if I told you I'd love to part your legs right now and drive myself into you hard and fast before I fuck you so slowly that I'm barely moving yet the pressure against both your clit and sweet spot is so damn hard you scream from the intensity. However, not even I can take that for very long before I can't stand it anymore and start swiftly pounding into you as I pull your hips up off the mattress. Then I pull out and flip you over to-"
         "Okay!"
         "Aw, I was just getting warmed up! Give me time, I'm sure I could get more creative if I have a little more time. Oh! I know! Oh, but that involves bondage, and I don't know how you feel about that."
       "Stop! I get what you're saying," she scolds me, and I sweetly kiss away her embarrassed expression. "Was it your goal to scare me?" she snips.
       "What? No, of course not. Not really. I only wanted to put things into perspective for you."
       Her voice drips with sarcasm as she says, "So sorry I'm an innocent, as you say. It's a shame I disappoint you so much." I can also hear the hurt in her voice behind the sarcasm.
        "Marie...."
        "No, no. It's fine. You've made your point."
        "I'm sorry I overdid it."
        "Even though, like you said, you could've 'done better.' "
        "Didn't you hear me apologize?"
        "I don't want you to treat me different," she says sadly.


        "I have to!" I softly exclaim. "I want to." I take a breath, make a decision, and say, "Listen. I'm not staying the night again for a little while."
        "Why?" she asks, looking sad and worried. "What if I want you to?"
        "No, Marie. I couldn't make it through the night without doing something to you. Even if you weren't a virgin, that was still a lot faster than I originally wanted to take it. I lost my head and forgot all about simple."
        "Jesse, I said yes to everything," she reminds me.
        "I shouldn't have even created the situation. Don't you see?"
        She sighs resolutely and says, "Yes, I do, and I understand. I'm still going to be sad though. I like you being here."
        Holy shit. 
        I love her!
        "I will be here," I say, trying to keep my mind on the conversation, but I keep getting distracted by her addictive lips-that are pouting adorably. "In the evenings... and our days off... and..." I can't stand it anymore, and I swiftly pull her mouth to mine so that I can get another hit of the drug that is Marie.
       I'd forgotten her nakedness. I'm reminded now, however, as I run my free hand all over her torso. My pants are suddenly very restricting as I work the sheets off us with my legs.
       I have to go home and change for work. 
       Dammit!
       With this new self-imposed rule, goodness knows when I'll have a naked Marie in my arms again.
       I whine like a spoiled child.



       "I have to go," I say sadly while I kiss her neck.
       "No. I'm holding you hostage," she growls, surprising me, but I like it.
       "Oh, how much I wish you could," I say sadly. "But I have to go home and change first as well. I'll come by at lunch to change and wash the sheets." And make out.
       "As well as other laundry. Don't think I've forgotten about that," she almost laughs.
       I do laugh, remembering my simfu 'training.'
       "And maybe," she says, "while you're changing at your house, you could get my panties so you could give them back to me during your lunch break."
       "What?! And hand off the jewel of my collection?"
       "Collection?!"
       I laugh again.


       Her eyes narrow playfully a little before she says, "Yes. The 'jewel of your collection' belongs to me."
       "Possession is nine-tenths of the law."
       "Jesse..."
       "I'll only accept a trade, though it'd better be a damn good trade for those. I like them," I say before I swiftly lick her cheek.
       "You....! You've been perving on my panties, and you have a collection?!"
       "I have really been perving on your panties, Marie. They're a souvenir of the first time I kissed you too," I say passionately. "I'll buy you some to replace them, but I'm keeping that pair."
       "Thief!" she mockingly accuses, and I laugh again.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

61: Barely In Control





Jesse



       Marie is my girlfriend! I think happily before I kiss her.
       I haven't had an actual girlfriend in years. In my own mind, Jennifer was, but it turned out she wasn't thinking the same thing. Ginger and I almost dated... same thing with Lynne, but those died before they started. I'm still a little shocked Ginger and Desmond got together. I guess insanity loves company.
      Bryce says he wasn't surprised since he'd catch looks from one to the other. How did he see that and not me?
        Still, good that they're together. It sucks to be alone.
        And I'm not alone anymore.
        I thread my hands into her hair. The way she has it fixed prevents me from running them through it, so I work on undoing it while my lips never leave her mouth.
        Let me stay, I tell her telepathically while I continue to leisurely kiss her mouth. She doesn't want to move fast. Kissing her slowly and undoing her hair isn't fast.
        Wait. She said kissing was too fast.
        "Is kissing still too fast?" I ask.
        "No. I don't know why I said yes to that. Maybe because of it leading to everything else with you," she says and then acts like she wants me to stop talking.
        Finally, I get her hair down, and I sigh with relief when I pull my fingers through it.
        Leading to everything else.
        Doing what I do best, I work on testing the limits she wants to place upon me. I move my hand from her hair to her shoulder down her side.
      She let me do it before, I think as I slip my hand under her shirt.
      Before I can get my hand to her breast, she reaches up to stop it. I make what I hope is a cute whine while she holds my hand.
       "That's too fast?" I ask.
       "Yes."
       "But you let me before."
       "It went too far before."
       "You liked it though," I point out gently and start kissing her neck. "It felt good, right?" I ask, sounding unsure of myself on purpose. I work my hand free and stroke her face.
      "Yes, but I wasn't prepared for it."


      "That's part of what makes it good." I deliberately move my hand to the inside of her thigh and start moving it up.
       "Jesse..." she warns.
       "I like making you feel good," I say seductively while I slowly move my hand northward."
       "You're pushing me."
       Crap.
       I freeze my hand where it is and close my eyes to take a deep breath. "I would love to run my tongue where my hand is now, but I'm positive that's going too far."
       "Definitely not simple," she says breathlessly. I have to be seriously turning her on.
       I lightly squeeze her thigh and run my thumb back and forth, watching her expression.
        I have to stop. I have to stop. I have to stop, I think in rapid succession.
        "You have no idea how hard it is for me to move slow," I whisper.
        "I think I do," she whispers back. I still haven't moved my hand, and I know it's driving her insane.
       "If you'd let me, I could go ape-shit crazy, and I can guarantee you'll like it."
       Her breathing hitches a couple of times, and I inch my hand higher.
       "That's not something simple," she says quietly, and I close my eyes really tightly.
       This is so fucking hard! Yes, it's fucking hard.
        But this is how it has to be with her.
        "Did one of them do something bad to you? Did they force you to do something you didn't want to do?" I ask, trying to get to the bottom of why she wants to take it so slow.
        "No... other than trying to guilt me into sex, no," she answers, probably wondering where those questions came from.
        Depending on how bad the guilt trip was, that might be a clue. I need to be better than that. I fucking love her. I'd love to show her how much in my favorite way, but maybe stopping myself now will pay off later. Maybe stopping now can be a way to show her as well.
        It'd better. I'm going to go crazy. I move my hand off of her thigh, and she noticeably relaxes.
        She curls into me again, and I want to scream from the boiling desire in my veins. I don't think I've ever had to work so hard at my self-control than right at this moment. Every second I have to fight the urge to seduce her. I know I could do it too.


       I lean her back a little and reach up to cup her face with my free hand.
       Don't ruin it, Jesse.
       She looks back at me sleepily while I run my fingers across the planes of her face. Her eyes close, and I kiss her lips once.
       "Let me stay," I beg quietly.
       She takes a breath and says, "I want you to, but only if you can control yourself."
       "I'll figure it out," I say resolutely. Then I pick her up and carry her to her bedroom and gently place her on her bed.
       She requests a minute to change into some pj's, so after I get her her nightshirt, I walk out of the room for a minute to take off my shirt, shoes, and socks.
       I re-enter the room after knocking softly and get permission to enter.
       Wordlessly, I walk around to the other side of the bed and pull her into my arms after I lie down. After a few torturous hours, I finally fall asleep.


Marie




     I wake up to a large hand running up and down my hip and thigh. With every pass it makes, my nightshirt inches up to my waist.
     My eyes open fully when Jesse's hand travels underneath my shirt to the dip in my waist. Warning bells sound the alarm just before Jesse crashes his lips into mine.
     I hear myself whimper as his arms enfold me. I have no idea what time it is, but I can tell it's still dark outside.
     Jesse groans before he says, "You're so fucking beautiful. Dammit! I have to..." He slides downward with another groan. "I have to..."


      "Jesse?"
      "...this," he finally finishes before he starts licking my hip where his hand had traveled earlier.
     "Ha-a-a-a-a-a-ah." I make the strangest noise as his tongue circles around all over my hip and thigh. The area is already sensitive from his hand rubbing it earlier.
      This is so strange! Why do I like it so much?! I think as I think how he could do this anywhere, and it would feel as good.
       He inches up my shirt and starts licking my stomach.
      "You're going to lose control," I pant out.
      "I'm already gone," he groans as I expect him to move northward to my breasts, but he surprises me by going south instead. He moves my uninjured leg, and that places his head square between my thighs.



      I gasp as he moans simultaneously, trying to taste me through my panties.
      "Ah! Jesse!" I cry out as I try to roll away to my side.
      I swear he sounds just like a wild animal as he growls when his hands grab my hips and keep me in place.
      The wild animal disappears as he begs, "Oh, Marie! I haven't had it in so long! Please, daddy only wants a little taste!" he begs, sounding like he's going out of his mind.
      He's already gone. Now, I understand what he really meant.
     My heart races out of control as Jesse moves way too fast for me, pulling my panties down. I can't get my arms to obey me because I'm caught up in his tongue's movements. So I have difficulty moving them down to stop him.
     I manage it just as he'd started moving his tongue around the waistband of my panties while continuing to pull them off. I grab hold of the waistband and pull them back up.
      He lets out this pitiful, heart-breaking cry when I succeed. He sounds like a man truly suffering.
      "Marie, your boyfriend is a freak. Oh, if you'd only let me, the things I could do to you," he moans into my hip socket.
       "This isn't what I had in mind when I asked you to stay," I pant, flipping out over what he just said.
      "I was doing so good. Then, I woke up with a gorgeous woman in my arms," he says with his head still between my thighs. He moans. "I can't stand it! Please, Marie," he cries. Then he turns his head and starts licking the inside of my thigh.
      My body screams at me to let him do anything he wants, but my mind is still in panic-mode.
      "I'm starving for you," he groans into my thigh. "Please, let me eat you."
      I cry out as his fingers start moving against me.
      He whispers, "All you have to do...is not stop me...and I can make you feel soooo good."
      I toss my head back and forth, whimpering, wanting to give him what he wants but worried about how things will be afterward.
      "Please don't fight me, Marie. I want to do this for you."
      For me?
      He knows so much. ... And I know nothing! I think and start really whimpering.
      His hand stops, and he's up at my face, kissing my cheek.
      "Waaaaay too much," I quietly cry out, desperately trying to catch my breath and gather my wits about me.
       "I finally realized that, my love. Trust me, I'll still do it if you want me to...gladly...but not against your wishes," he says lovingly to me, continuing to gently kiss me everywhere.


      "Are you back in control of yourself?" I ask, still panting.
      "Barely," he says, and to prove it, he settles himself onto my hips, my legs still spread.
       Holy mother of fuck! I think, not giving myself time to be shocked at my internal language. That can't be all him! It's not possible! Our underwear hides much less sensation than having our pants still on like earlier, and Jesse must've taken his pants off sometime while I slept.


       "Barely in control, which means not really," He lets out a long sigh when his hips start moving against me. I cry out again, but this time it's more of a passionate plea for more.
       It feels...so good.
       "You like this," he states. "Don't you." There's the question.
       I whimper, afraid to agree with him.
       He whispers into my ear, "It's okay to like it, my love."
       I can do nothing but pant because I have no idea what to say.
       He sounds a little concerned now as he says, "Is this too much too? Do you want me to stop?"
       Don't!
       "No!" I cry out. "Yes, I like it. Don't stop!"
       He takes in a large breath of air and lets it out in a moan as he speeds up. I cry out again, throwing my head back and forth.
        "Don't fight it, Marie. Take it, baby. Embrace it. Dammit, I love you," Jesse breathes down to me. Then he kisses me to stop my head's movements. I moan into his mouth.
       "Take it."
       I'm not sure if it was spoken or my own thought, but I heed the advice.
       Everything else dims as my whole focus is what Jesse does to me. His hips start moving in small circles, and I let out a high-pitched whine. The sound is so feminine that it surprises me for half a second before I'm hopelessly lost to sensation again.
      I start sighing his name over and over again, hardly aware I'm doing it, but it has to be coming from somewhere.


       "Come for me, Marie," he whispers down to me.
       "What?" I ask breathlessly. Everything is starting to ball up.
       "Come for me," he says a little louder, and I explode at the sound of his voice. Then I do it again as he moans my name.


Jesse




      I escape to Marie's shower. I need to wash myself off a bit, but a simple napkin could've done that. However, I feel the need for burning-hot water.
      What have I done?
      Oh crap! Jesse, you idiot!
      "Only if you can control yourself." she said! Only if you can control yourself!
      I put my face in my hands.
      I can't control myself.
      I'm just as bad as the one or ones that pressured her for sex. Sure, I didn't go for sex exactly, but I pressured her to near her breaking point!
      I hang my boxers up to dry after washing them off and wrap a towel around my waist.
      I have to talk to Marie. Now. Even if she isn't realizing yet that I overdid it.


      "Marie?" I ask when I walk into the bedroom.
      Holy shit! I mentally exclaim when I see she's removed her nightshirt. She's lying on her stomach, but I see the moonlight on her bare back. I thank God she kept her panties on.
      I risk touching her to lightly shake her awake.


Marie




     There's stuff on my nightshirt. It's cold.
     Oh. From Jesse. Mildly disgusted, I carefully remove the article of clothing. Then, reaching over on my nightstand, I get and take some pain medicine. Next, I roll over onto my stomach. I'm so tired. I can't even begin to think about what just happened.
     The next thing I know, Jesse is shaking me awake. I turn around to look at what I can see of him in the moonlight before I remember I'm mostly-naked.
     "Jesse?" I ask. He must've showered. I thought he'd only gotten up to use the restroom.
     "Yeah," he says. Then he blurts out in an agonizing way, "Marie, I'm so sorry! I'm an asshole that can't control himself! I was wrong to pressure you like that especially after you'd mentioned how they pressured you. I did no better! I wanted to be better than them, but I let myself get carried away and took advantage of you."
      "What?" I ask sleepily. "Advantage? What advantage? Je ne comprends pas, Jesse. I don't understand," I finish.
      "You were still groggy from sleep," he says sadly. He reminds me of a scolded puppy. "I used that."
       "I said yes," I remind him.
       "Only because I made you say it. You said it under duress, and I took it like you'd said it in your right mind."
      My hazy brain makes it difficult to think straight. I think my pain pills have started working. Plus, I'm so tired!


      He's so fine, I think and reach out a hand to trace a single finger down the towel covering his leg while I lie here on my stomach. He lets out a shaky breath, and I smile from my sudden feeling of power.
      "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warns in a very serious tone. Again, I have the tiger by its tail. I don't remove my hand fast enough, so he snatches it and places it on the bed. "Please accept my apology."
      "I don't understand why you apologized." I want to run my fingers through his hair.
      He looks at the bedside table. "How long ago did you last take a pill?"
      "After you went to the bathroom."
      "You have an empty stomach?"
      "Oui. Of course I do. It's the middle of the night," I say and stretch like a cat...all except my knee.
      He takes a deep breath and stands up to walk over and fumble around at my dresser.
      "For the love of God, Marie. Put this on," he says and tosses me a shirt.
      I find it funny which one he tossed. "This is the shirt from your store."
      "Good. That means it's loose-fitting!" he snarls as he leaves the room.


      He walks back in wearing only his pants. I sit up a little in bed and say in a mildly-scolding yet childish voice, "If you didn't want me taking off my shirt then you shouldn't have gotten it messy." I feel very justified by my statement in a silly way.
     "Ahbut .... but you ... Hm," he flounders, and I giggle. "You're not yourself."
     "Says who?" I challenge, barely getting out the 'wh' sound. He looks adorable standing in my doorway and scratching the back of his head. "Why are you all the way over there?"
      "It's safer over here," he points out. His tone is much too serious. Then, he tries again at his apology. "Marie, please forgive me for overdoing it. I can't live with myself otherwise."
       "All you did was..." I pause and remember Jesse's agonized voice when his head was between my legs. I remember my feeling of panic and fear.
       "But it's what I wanted to do and tried to pressure you into that's what I really need to apologize for."
      "Jesse, I can't think. I think I'm going to be ill." I put my hand on my forehead as the room spins.
       In two steps, Jesse is at my side and carrying me in his arms to the bathroom. I hope he can handle the floor rocking back and forth the way it is.
       He sits me next to the commode and brushes my hair out of my face.
       "How many of those did you take?" he asks, sounding concerned.
       "Two."
       "What?!"
       "It said one to two on the label."
       "Because that's for people that have an endurance to it or weigh more!" he lightly scolds.
       "I don't feel well," I say. A few seconds later, I have to lean over and be sick in the commode.
       Jesse reaches over and holds my hair out of my face.
       I'm so embarrassed.


        "Well, that'll help make it better," Jesse says soothingly while I sit back down on the cold floor. "I'll be right back," he says.
        I lean back against the wall, wishing I could get this taste out of my mouth.
        A little while later, Jesse walks back in with a small glass of orange juice. "Here." he says, and I gladly take it from him.
       It makes me feel better and gets rid of the bad taste.
       Once Jesse knows I'm feeling better, he picks me up off the floor and carries me over to the couch before settling me in his lap.


        "You don't have to carry me everywhere, Jesse," I quietly point out.
       "Hush, I like to," he says, encouraging me to rest my head on his chest.
     I do, and I really like the safe, comforting feeling I have with being in his arms.
      "Still feeling better?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.
      "Yes," I answer simply.
     His hand reaches up and starts running through my hair. I feel sleepy, but I can't sleep. I feel like I'm in a semi-conscious state between awake and asleep. I feel warm. I feel loved. I feel content.
       This is coming from Jesse, I think as I fully rest my cheek on his furry chest. My skin feels like it's humming.
     "Jesse?" I ask.
     "Mm?"
     "I forgive you if that's what you need to hear."
     "Thank you," he breathes and holds me tighter. "I'm such an asshole."
     "No, you're not," I argue and lightly kiss his chest.
     "I said I wouldn't."
     "It sounds to me like you need to forgive yourself," I say thoughtfully.
     "I'm working on it," he mumbles.
     "Don't be so hard to yourself."
     "I can do better."
      I stay quiet and think about what he might be thinking.
      "I hope you're not thinking of changing yourself because I don't want you to," I warn.
      "If I don't change at least a little then I will only continue to push you too far."
      "Maybe I need a little pushing," I admit in a small voice.
      "A little," he whispers like he's talking to himself, and there's a small tremor that goes through him. He takes a few deep breaths.
       He talks a tiny bit louder as he says, "That's not what you said a few hours ago. That's not what I said I'd do. That's not what you agreed to."
      "Jesse..."
      "No. You said when I asked you if they did something bad to you, you said they pressured you. I don't want to be like them."
       After a few minutes, I say, "But a little pushing and too much pressure are different."
      "I don't think I can only push a little!" he quietly snaps.
      "You did already," I tell him.
      He lets out an agonized huff before pulling me up off him and leaning over to kiss me hard. His demanding tongue shoots into my mouth and immediately forces mine to respond to it.

 

    He pulls back and speaks while continuing to kiss my face and neck. "You want me...to not change. You want me to...push a little without pressuring a lot. ...Dear God, Marie!....Do you realize how hard that is?!" Then he doesn't let me answer.
       A whimper slips out of me unbidden. He's scaring me a little, but I'm also loving him kissing me this passionately. He responds to my whimper by backing off, acting like he'll stop.
      No!


      I quickly reach up and hold the back of his neck to me, begging him to keep going. He moans and throws himself back into the kiss as he runs his free hand over the humming skin of my thigh before reaching up under my shirt. Slowly, he moves his hand toward my breast, wordlessly telling me I can stop him if I want. I don't stop him.
      He moans when his warm hand finally reaches its destination. Another moan escapes him when he starts kneading my breast while occasionally tweaking and rubbing his thumb across my nipple, driving me wild.
      A desperate, wordless plea escapes me as my whole body feels as if it's awakening from a life-long coma.


      "It's the medicine. You're not yourself," he says as he suddenly raises his head.
      "Non, Jesse." I clear my throat. "You."
      "I want to do very non-simple things to you, Marie. Mostly what I wanted to do before," he states with stunning sincerity.
      I don't feel positive I understand him, but I let out a shaky breath anyway simply from the hungry look in his eyes.
      "But I also don't want to pressure you," he finishes, looking like he's fighting himself.
      The sky out the window shows the smallest amount of pink, indicating the sun plans to make an appearance in an hour or so.
       "Has anyone ever done that to you before?" he asks, disrupting my distracted mind.
       "I'm not positive what you mean," I admit, feeling stupid but bravely forging ahead anyway.
       For a moment, he looks like he's trying to figure out how to word something before he finally says, "I want to do this..." His hand flies between my legs into my underwear before his fingers move against me. "...with my tongue," he finishes, his eyes closely watching my expression.
      "You're right. That is very not simple," I shakily agree, not moving his stopped hand.
      His hand leaves my panties, and he leans down to kiss me tenderly.
      "Let him," my inner voice shocks me.
      He pulls back and I questioningly say, "Just not stop you." I'm shaking.
      "That's all," he says kindly before kissing me once. "Marie, you don't have to do anything. I don't want you to feel pressured at all. I can live without it. It's not worth losing the chance to just hold you."
      I stop him by placing my fingers over his lips.
      "For that." I can hardly breathe. "... don't let me stop you."


      His eyes zero in on mine, trying to judge my sincerity. I try my best to look like I meant what I said.



      Without a word, he stands up and carries me to the bed. This time, I'm glad he carries me because I feel faint.
      "I will stop if you ask me to," he says seriously.
      Both of his hands move down my sides as he calmly reaches for the hem of my shirt. Once it's removed, he goes back to kissing me.
      "How's your knee?" he asks in a whisper.
      "It's fine."
      "Good," he says and moves to take my entire nipple into his mouth.
       I'm utterly distracted by thinking about what he said he wanted to do that I wish he'd do it now and let me stop having this fear of the unknown going through me, but he appears to be slowly building to it.
      I let out a whimper.
      "Patience," he admonishes me quietly. My nipple is still wet from his mouth, and he unexpectedly blows cold air onto it.
      I gasp and instinctively move away, but he holds onto me and prevents me from doing so. Then he moves to the other breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth and toying with it with his tongue.
      Then the bastard blows on that one too.
      "Jesse!" I squeak. I see his teeth flash a smile. I gasp and say, "You're laughing at me!"
      "No, I'm not," he says. "I'm happy."
      "Making me crazy makes you happy?!" I snarl.
      He immediately moves up to my face and says, "Yes, because I want you to want this. I want you practically begging me to do it. If I can't get you there then I won't do it because I'll know you weren't sincere."
      That calms me down instantly, and he kisses me with languid passion.
       "The store doesn't open 'til ten. I have hours," he says, running his fingers across my cheek.
        The man got a green light and has decided to crawl across the intersection.
       "Hours?" I whine.
       "Why? You ready for it now?" he asks right before moving at the speed of light, pulling down my panties a little, and circling his tongue on that sensitive spot and dipping down once.
       I cry out from the surprise, and just as I can recover, he stops and smiles up at me.
       "Yes, my love. Hours."
       I wish I could find the nerve to tell him I want it now, but he's right. I'm a little too nervous.
       "Hey, Marie," he pops back up to my face, "guess what?" He kisses me, and he tastes different. "You taste delicious," he finishes.
       I am going to faint. Right now.

 

      He watches my face for a second or two before crushing his lips on mine.
       I'm too nervous. I want to cry. I don't want to feel nervous like this. You'd think we're about to actually have sex instead of what he wants to do to me. Why does he want to do this to me?
       I ask him.
       "Because I do. Because I love it. Because I want to hear your beautiful voice screaming my name as I make you feel pleasure you can't even comprehend," he answers me confidently.
      "Oh," I answer in a small voice before he kisses me again.
      His mouth travels down my neck while his hand moves up to my breast. He dips his head down after pushing my breast up a little with his hand so he can run his tongue along the swell. Then, he circles his tongue around while moving down to my belly before plunging it down into my bellybutton.
      I jump in surprise, but he keeps a firm grip on my waist. Real firm. The longer he does it, the more sensitive the spot becomes, and I feel the sensation spread out all over my torso. His hands start massaging my upper hips, the tips of his fingers press into me as they slowly travel lower.
      I let out a quick sigh, and he moves down again, having pulled my panties down the smallest bit. He groans and says my name before digging his tongue into my hip socket.
      Holy crap! I think as I let out a noise of surprise. He holds me still as what he does feels so strange in a sort of ticklish way. Ticklish, but good.
       I whimper and cry and struggle as much as my knee will let me, yet he doesn't stop!
      "Jesse, please! I can't take it!" I earnestly beg.
       He growls a little and doesn't stop.
       "Please please please!" I beg again, and he answers me by pulling my panties down to my knees. I finally get to catch my breath as he lifts his head and carefully guides them past my sprained knee.
       I'm completely naked. I realize before I get distracted by the feather-light kisses on my sprained knee.
       "Poor knee," Jesse says lovingly, his hand sneaking up and down my inner thigh while he very gently kisses it again. I'm reminded of a magician doing a sleight-of-hand to trick you into watching one thing while the other hand does something else. Jesse moves over to the other knee, now with one conveniently on either side of him.
      He's much rougher with this one as he hungrily attacks it. Slowly, he makes his way down my inner thigh. I tense up from how close he is.
      Suddenly, he's moved to the back of my thigh. Here also, it tickles a little in a strangely-pleasant way, and I jump and try to get away from him.
       "No. No. No," he warns playfully. "You're not going anywhere." He lifts my leg up and moves under it to let his tongue play with the outside of it. As I try to twist away, his hand reaches up to grab my ass.
      He moans as he works around my hip, my leg under him now. The hand on my butt starts massaging me, and I can feel his warm breath on my lower abdomen.
      "I want it," he moans.

      I'm startled by his tongue licking me once before he blows cold air on me. I cry out from the shock. While I try to catch my breath, he does it again. He doesn't give me time to catch my breath before he groans again and starts roving around with his tongue around the highest parts of my inner thigh.
      It's driving me crazy! Why won't he just do it?!
      I reach out and grab fistfuls of the sheets next to me while tossing my head back and forth, whimpering.
      "I want you practically begging me to do it," echoes in my mind.
      He licks me again, and before he can blow, I beg, "Jesse, please."


      He moans and buries his face between my legs. The hot, rough feel of his tongue on that sensitive spot makes me go crazy. I hardly know what I'm doing anymore. All I know is what he does.
      He locks his arms around my hips to keep me still and pulls my legs apart a little more before moving his tongue further down the slit.
      Then his tongue enters me, circling around the outer wall.
       I have to be a mess down there, and that bothers me. Apparently, it doesn't bother him because I get the feeling he's going out of his way to get it all.
       Holding my hips tighter and tilting them up a little, he then moves his tongue in and out of me in little, teasing flutters. Every time, he barely brushes a spot that I wish he'd linger on.
      The damn flutters continue, making me want to scream in aggravation. It feels good, but I want better!
       I make a growling noise and yell, "Jesse!"
       He immediately shoves his tongue in as hard as he can right where I want him to, and I love it.
       "Mon Dieu!" I scream as he grinds his tongue on that area. "Oh!" I cry out again when it takes up a rhythm, and soon my hips move automatically in sync with him, a slave to his talented tongue.
       "Your boyfriend is a freak, Marie," I hear in my memory as I ride his face.
        I like it.
       It's coming. It's coming! I can't stop it!
       "Oh, shit, Jesse!" I scream, and he doesn't stop.
       He groans, I whimper, and my hips lurch forward of their own will into his face. He takes the first wave with his tongue, but then he pulls back and drives two of his fingers into me, making me do it again and again, each time driving his fingers a little further in.
        He gasps as my body quakes around him. I let out a whimpering noise, shaking.
        I feel his fingers leave me, and I close my eyes. I have no idea what he's up to, but I'm not worried about it. I completely understand the term 'mind-numbing' now.


        "Marie?" I hear his wonderful voice ask after a while, and I mean to say something, but it doesn't work. "When were you going to tell me you're a virgin?"


Thursday, July 11, 2013

60: Good Behavior




Warning: Graphic adult content

Ginger



    My phone rings. Desmond.
    He warned me he'd be busy over the past few days with a case, and I haven't heard from him since.
    I still don't know if we're going steady.
    "Hey, stranger," I say when I pick up.
    "And I'm sorry for that too," he says.
     "I know," I say; then I grin. "Maybe you can find some way to make it up to me." I want to play. I'd gotten used to 'getting it' on a somewhat-regular basis the past few weeks, and we're going into a drought if I don't do something about it.
     He makes the groaning/growling sound like he's aggravated and says, "I can't yet." I scowl, and he continues, "Please don't get mad, but I need a book."
     "Are you," fucking "kidding me?!"
     "I asked you not to get mad."
     "Get your secretary to pick it up because I AM mad now," I growl.
     "Ginger..." he begs.
      Then I get an idea. I liked the begging. I relent and ask him what he needs. Then I tell him I'll bring it by in a few hours.
      Half an hour later, I close the library and head home to change my undergarments. Then, I decide to change into another outfit as well, simple but one that will surely torture him. I'm all about torture this evening.


     I smile sweetly at Patricia as I walk past her to knock on Desmond's office door.
     I have a moment of surprise when I see him get up to answer it. I'd expected him to just yell 'it's open.' His eyes rake me from head to toe (as they should), and I hand him the book. He swallows hard and thanks me.
      After Patricia leaves, I decide to sit and wait for a little while. Sure enough, the client--I'm surprised to see it's Bryce--walks out, leaving the office door open. I blush scarlet to Bryce's smirk as he walks past me. Desmond still sits in his office, unaware I'm out here.
     I loudly turn a few pages of the magazine I'm not reading, and I see out of the corner of my eye his head pop up to look my way. I slowly cross my legs the other way.
     "Ginger?" he asks, getting up out of his office chair.
     "Who else?" I snap quietly and slap the magazine on the table.


     "What are you still doing here?"
     I stand up. "Oh? Not a 'I'm glad you're still here?' or a 'What can I do for you this evening?' or something like that?"
      "That's what I meant," he tries to explain. Then, he goes ahead and asks, "What can I do for you this evening?"
      Perfect, I think as I slowly saunter over to him.
     "Well, for starters, this," I answer and kiss him.
     His response is immediate as he wildly clutches at my dress like he'd love to rip it from my body. He groans, and his goatee scratches my throat as he says, "Please tell me you did not wear this dress to work today."
      I shrug. "What if I did?"
      He lets out an adorably-shaky exhale and almost whines, "Ginger... I have to work on this case."
      Guessing, I say, "I'm sure Bryce will forgive you one evening." I feel since he's pressed against me how hard he already is. "But if you really want me to go..." He gets an iron grip on me. "Or do you want me to stay?"



      "You're not going anywhere," he growls and takes control of my mouth.
      I slowly undo his tie and a few buttons on his shirt while he works on the zipper at my back. When I think he's gotten it to where I can handle the rest, I say harshly, "Stop!"
       He pulls back in surprise. "What?"
       "You have been driving me crazy these past days, and I'm not so sure I want to give you what you want."
      "You want it too; don't lie."
      "Oh, sure I do, but I want something else even more."
      "What?" he asks, curious.


      I push his jacket off him, pull his tie off of his shoulders and walk around him, running a finger slowly down his arm. Then I grab one wrist and the other and use his necktie to bind his wrists together behind his back. He doesn't try to stop me. Instead, his breathing becomes fast and shallow.
       I walk back around to stand in front of him and say, "I want to drive you as crazy as I've been going these past few days." Then I press my body against him and kiss him while he eagerly kisses me back, already testing the strength of my knotting.
        "Where did you learn to tie knots?" he asks.
        I grin and decide to answer his question. "From a sailor." Instant jealousy flashes through his green eyes. I gently place a single finger over his lips in a wordless command to hush about it. The jealous look gets replaced by a hungry one when he surprises me by opening his mouth and sucking my finger into it. I like the feel of his coarse tongue on the pads of my finger.



      He takes a step towards me, and I back up a few while he holds my gaze. Then he pins me to the wall with his hips and attacks my lips with his.
      I let out a groan when he parts my lips with his tongue and grinds his hips against me. Even though he's the one bound, I have lost the upper hand for the moment.
       My hands reach up into his hair while he tests the strength of the knots again. I jerk his head back and state, "You want me."
      "Yes, I fucking do," he growls.
       Gotcha.
       I lightly slap him on the cheek. "Such language."
       The words quickly leave his mouth while he says, "There's more where that came from. Untie me, Ginger."
       "No."
       "I want that dress off of you."
       "Too bad."
       He moves to bend down to get his hands in front of him.
       "Oh no you don't!" I warn. "You do that and your punishment will only get worse."
       "I'm already being punished," he argues.
       "The other punishment you really won't like."
       "The only thing I'd like right now is to get my hands on that skin under the dress."
       "No," I snap and get out from between him and the wall. "Sit here." I point to a chair in his lobby as I make my way over to it.
       "I want you on my desk," he states defiantly.
       "No," I say again. "Sit. Down."
       Glaring at me, he does as I say. I take the tail end of his tie and secure it to the back of the chair.


       "Struggle too hard and you'll break your furniture." I point out, standing behind him and running my hands down his chest. When I've gotten far enough, he turns his head and licks my breast.
       I jump back in surprise to his victorious grin. I have to have something to beat that.
       "And to think. I was going to pleasure you," I say, faking a pout.
       "Nothing's stopping you," he points out.
       I stand quietly and stare at him, pretending to ponder my decision. Then, I walk over and lightly run my fingertips across his face and say, "That would be a reward. You sat like I asked, but then you had to go and take liberties that weren't given to you." He sits silently and breathes deeply while I continue. "Now I have to decide something else instead."
      "Please, Ginger. I apologize," he begs quietly.
      "No no. You're far to rebellious to deserve that," I say, and he looks like he's losing the battle over his self-control. "Although," I continue, "you do want this dress off, correct?"
      "Yes," he answers emphatically and squirms. "I'll remove it with my teeth if you let me."
      "That won't be necessary," I say with a smile, turn my back to him, and slowly, very slowly, unzip my dress. I hear him breathing heavily, so I turn a little to check. Smiling at him over my shoulder, I flip the dress off to stop at my elbows. Now he sees the lingerie I wear... the top of it anyway. His pupils dilate.
      "More?" I ask sweetly.
      "Yes," he cries pitifully. He's completely absorbed into the situation surrounding us, and I love it when he gets like this.
      "Yes what?" I ask, playing my part.
      "Yes, please," he whines.
      "Good boy." I smile and let the dress fall to the floor.
      He struggles against his bonds while I slowly walk over to him.
      "You want to touch me, don't you, Desmond?" I ask quietly.
      "Yes. Please," he replies earnestly.
       I make a tsk-tsk noise and say, "I'm afraid I can't let you do that."
       He lets out a tortured exhale and leans back while closing his eyes.
       "I can let you watch me touch myself however," I say and revel in the shocked expression he suddenly wears. "Where would you like me to touch myself?"
       "Your breasts," he answers in a groan.
       "Like this?" I ask, fondling myself in a way like I'm offering my breasts to him.
       "Yes," he gasps and weakly struggles a little more.


       I stand with my legs apart and play with my breasts some more as I say, "Oh, this feels so good, Desmond." I roll my head around on my shoulders and lick my lips. He watches me with his mouth hanging open like he forgot to close it.
      "I want you," he says, almost like he's talking to himself.
      "I know you do," I say, and he looks like he didn't think he'd said that aloud. Then I get another idea. "Where to you want me, Desmond?"
       "My desk. I want to fuck you hard on my desk."
       I smile, knowing we have as of yet to fulfill that little fantasy of his. "Perhaps some other time." I take a step towards him and lean over to kiss him. He eagerly shoves his tongue as far into my mouth as he can. Then I allow him to kiss my neck and breasts for a few moments. He moans with pleasure.
      The next moan gets quickly chased by a small whine when I lift off him. He looks up at me pleadingly.



     "Shall I take this off as well?" I ask, smiling.
     "Oh, yes. Then let me kiss you," he begs.
     "I call the shots here," I say chidingly while I remove my bra very close, but out of reach, to his face.
      The man lets out a pitiful cry, looking to be almost in tears.


     "Poor baby," I croon, cupping his cheek.
     "Ginger, please," he whispers.
     I finish unbuttoning his shirt and rake my nails lightly across his chest and abdomen. His eyes close and his breathing comes out in little shaky puffs. I gently move my hand to feel the hard bulge between his thighs. He lets out a small whine and throws his head back, trying to push himself further into my hand.
      "Do you want to touch me, Desmond?" I whisper into his ear while continuing to fondle him too lightly. If he wanted to, more correctly if he could, he could easily reach my chest with his mouth, but he's too busy going out of his mind.
      He groans a wordless response.
      "Well, do you?" I tease.
      "Ginger, please," he manages to get out.
      "You may touch me then," I say cruelly.
      He struggles with the knots again.
      "Oh no. Not with your hands," I point out. I remove his pants and shoes. Then I turn around and lightly sit in his lap.


      I lean back against him and rock my ass against his cock. I use the armrests of the chair to support most of my weight while I gyrate on top of him. He pushes up against me, hoping for more friction. A long groan escapes him while I continue to too-lightly rub him.
      I say breathlessly, "I'm so turned on right now, Desmond."
      "Please," he begs, and I part his legs and deposit my tush between them, backing up to press into him.
     "I need some satisfaction," I breathe.
     "Then let me give it to you," he pleads and starts licking the backs of my shoulders where I've laid back onto his chest.
      "Hm, not this time," I say. "But you can watch." I move my hand down between my legs and inside my panties.



      "Oh god," he whimpers and looks down over my shoulder as I tilt my hips up and pleasure myself.
       His groans match mine as I feel doubly turned on that he's watching me. He rocks his hips into my backside while I increase my own tempo.
       "I want that," he pants. Then his tongue roves around my neck and shoulders like he's desperate to have it elsewhere.
      My eyes roll to the back of my head as I arch my back and dig my fingers inside me at a crazy pace. Desmond moans and licks me wherever he can reach while I start to cry out as my pleasure builds.
     "Oh, Ginger," he breathes, and my hips jerk forward as I bring myself to a climax. Stars pop before my eyes from the force of my continued pleasure.
      Then I slump back against him and close my eyes for a while, catching my breath.
      "If you would please," Desmond asks after a suitable amount of time has passed, "madam, untie me now."



      I let out a light, higher-pitched 'hm' sound and turn to curl up into a ball in front of him, using his shoulder as a pillow. "I want to rest a minute or so." I like my Desmond.
       He cranes his head down and kisses me lovingly. The tender emotion takes me by surprise, and I find myself holding his face and kissing him back. I also find myself wanting to untie him early.
      He whispers, "Please untie me, Ginger." Then he kisses the tip of my nose.
      I nod silently, still shocked from his tender emotions, and get up to untie him. Once his wrists are freed, he flexes his hands and stretches before reaching out for me and pulling me into his lap again.


       Once I'm there, he kisses me in a desperate manner, holding my head firmly in place.
       "A sailor?" he asks.
       "Nothing but a small fling," I answer.
       "Very. Good. Teacher," he says, and I can't help but smile. "I tried everything I could think of."
       I sigh, a little sleepy, and lay my head on his chest.
       "Tired?" he asks me quietly while running his fingers through my hair.
       I nod and yawn to prove it.
       "That's too bad," he says cryptically.
       "Why?"
       "Because I'm not going to let you sleep tonight," he growls and lifts me into his arms while carrying me into his office.
       He quickly stands me to my feet before jerking my panties to the floor. Then he orders me to step out of them, and I do. Once that's accomplished, he spins me around to where I'm facing his desk.
        A trace amount of fear courses through me as he says into my ear, "Put your hands on the desk and keep them there." I let out a shaky breath, and he growls, "Now."
       I do so, and his hands rove all over me like this is the first time he's ever done it. Every touch, he acts like he's claiming me.
       "I wasn't allowed to touch you. Shit, woman, you drove me insane!" He pinches my nipples hard. I cry out and my hands fly up to his. He removes his even more quickly, and my ass is met with a resounding smack when he spanks me.
       "I said hands on the desk!"
       "I couldn't help it!" I gasp.
       "I know," he states, and I know he's grinning triumphantly.
       He steps away from me, and I can feel him looking at me as I hear what I guess is him removing the rest of his clothes.
       "You're so fucking gorgeous, Ginger," he says soft and low, and I shudder when he traces a single finger down my spine to my backside. Then he proceeds to push it into my vagina.


        I gasp before I hear him say, "And so wet." He moves his middle finger in to join with the other one as he slowly teases me. "I wanted to do this to you, and you denied me."
       "You liked watching me; admit it," I say defiantly, trying to keep my eyes from crossing.
       He laughs, not stopping his fingers, and says, "Yes. I did." After a short pause, he says, "And I wanted this." He suddenly removes his fingers to be replaced by his tongue.


      I jump in surprise and move to grab his head. He smacks my behind again, the message clear. I whimper as I dutifully place my hand back on the desk, now holding on for dear life as Desmond's tongue drives me wild.
      Just as I'm about to climax, he stops. "Noooo!" I cry out, frustrated.
      "Yes," he replies. "Welcome to my pain." His hands playfully explore me again as I feel his hard erection press against my backside.
       "Good girl. You didn't try to take care of yourself. I'd actually hoped to spank you again." His hand moves around to my front and dips down to masturbate me.
       I cry out as insane pleasure courses through me with each circle of his fingers. I remain so sensitive from earlier, and it's all I can do to remain standing.
        He slaps my butt again with his free hand before pressing his cock against me once more. I hadn't realized I'd moved, but I had.
         The pleasure builds, and I'm going to break.
         "Desmond, please!" I cry out, and then he stops.


       Furious, I spin around and slap him across the face. His head snaps back to meet an enraged look in my eyes.
        Suddenly, he grabs the back of my head and shoves his tongue down my throat. I try to fight him off, but he successfully uses his superior strength to overpower me, trapping my arms at my sides.


      He breaks the kiss, spins me around, pushes my shoulders forward, and swiftly starts pounding himself into me. I'm not given a chance to recover as he keeps a breakneck tempo, fucking me hard.
       "You feel so damn good, Ginger," he says while continuing with his thrusts. "By the way, you'll need a morning-after pill since I hadn't counted on this."
        He's not using a condom! I think in a panic and try to get away. I have several in my purse.
       "You're not going anywhere," he growls.
       "I have condoms!"
       "I don't want them," he says and slows down his tempo by half but doubles his force.
        Like a ticking secondhand, his tempo never falters.
        "I like watching you come, Ginger," he says in between thrusts. "And come you shall."
     Thank god. "Please, Desmond," I beg while his hand moves around to masturbate me once again. His movements change to cooperate with his fingers while he holds me steadily with one arm.
        Suddenly, he grabs my hips as an earth-shattering orgasm hits me with the force of a locomotive. He rocks himself inside of me while I try to recover standing up.


       "Now," he says simply and starts slapping his body into mine in very wet thrusts. He almost holds me up while I lay my upper torso upon his desk. "Finally," he breathes, and I see him look down at me out of the corner of my eye. "Fuck, yes," he hisses as I feel, yet again, that tightening sensation between my upper thighs and lower belly. I let out a desperate whine, knowing this next orgasm will surely tear me in two. Desmond shows no mercy as he drives us forward to the brink and over it as we climax simultaneously.


      Sometime later, I find myself sitting curled up in his lap while he sits in his office chair.
      "You're amazing, Ginger," he breaths down to me, and I can't respond. "I will never want anyone else."
      I think of something to say. "Even though I slapped you across the face?"
      He laughs. "Because you slapped me across the face." He laughs again, and I like the sound of it. I hear his heart beat faster just before he asks, "Will you marry me?"
       I freeze in shock as a life with Desmond stretches out before my mind's eye. It doesn't look smooth and easy, but then I realize I'd quickly grow bored if it were.
       I smile, knowing I'm making the right decision when I answer, "Yes."

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To answer a question I think will pop up if I don't answer it now, Desmond has another case in addition to the one he's working on for Bryce, which is Simon suing him for wrongful termination.

Thank you, NernersHuman, for your simself's (with minor alterations) cameo appearance as Patricia, Desmond's legal aid. Obviously, that role doesn't go away, so we might see you again too. :)