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I strip off my clothes, my cock stiffening as I stride into my bathroom. The heated tiles feel pleasant under my bare soles, the incandescent lighting warm against the marble counter, and the stone tile veined with black. The shower is done in the same stone tiling, the floor slick under my feet as I step into the warm spray of water, letting out a low groan of pleasure. The hot water feels soothing, after the day I’ve had.
Not soothing enough, however, to stop the heated flood of desire that seems to have suffused me.
Just a fantasy. I reach down, my hand wrapping around my thick cock as I let the vision of the girl’s face swim into my mind again. I let out a hiss at the sensation of my palm against the sensitive flesh—more sensitive than usual. I’m harder than I can remember having been in a long time, my cock straining in my fist as I start the slow slide of my hand over my length, remembering the girl’s features in detail. Her full lips, especially, her mouth, bow-like in her delicate face, parting in shock as she looked up at me.
I imagine sliding one hand from her upper arm to her shoulder, pushing her to her knees in front of me as I free my cock. I imagine telling her that whatever deal she had with Altiere, she has with me now, that I’ll give her more than he ever could have, if she’ll only part those pretty lips and take my cock.
Fuck. I groan, my hand flexing around my stiff length, muscles tensing as I close my eyes. I would never have done that to her, coerced her in that way, but the fantasy is arousing to an almost troubling degree. I would never bribe a woman to fuck me—I would never need to. But in my imagination, the girl nods, parting those lips to wrap them around the head of my cock, those wide blue eyes looking up at me as her tongue slides beneath it, wet and warm and?—
I rub my palm over the leaking tip of my cock, spreading pre-cum down my shaft, the sensation tearing another moan from me. It feels good—better than I can recall this having felt in a long time. It feels as if every nerve is primed for pleasure, wanting more, my cock throbbing in my fist as I imagine her taking my cock deeper into her mouth. Her eyes watering as I thrust to the back of her throat, my cock too big for her to comfortably take it all, but she does anyway. I imagine sliding over her tongue, feeling it brush against my balls as her nose touches my abs, her throat constricting around my length as she chokes on me.
I’m going to come, and sooner than I meant to. The fantasy rushes up over me, the image of her breathing heavily as I slide my cock out of her mouth, giving her a moment of respite before I push it back in. My rasping order for her to hold out her tongue as I feverishly stroke myself, pre-cum dripping onto her pretty, full lower lip, the head of my cock aimed at her mouth as I bring myself to the edge?—
“Oh, fuck, fuck—” I groan aloud as I feel my balls tighten, my cock throbbing with the sudden rush of my orgasm. I brace one hand against the tiles, my hips pumping hard into my hand as I imagine coating her tongue with my cum, each spurt filling her mouth until I finally thrust into it again, her lips closing around me as she obediently sucks my cock while my orgasm finishes. I picture her swallowing it all, her lips pink and swollen from the friction, but not a drop left when my cock finally slips free.
My cum paints the tiles instead, spurting out with a force that makes my knees feel slightly weak, my weight leaning into the hand braced against the wall as I stroke myself hard. The orgasm almost rivals those I’ve had with physical partners, and it catches me off-guard. I moan as the last spurts of cum hit the shower floor, still stroking, my body craving every last throb of the intense pleasure.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath. I stand there for several long moments, even after my hand has fallen away from my cock, trying to gather my thoughts. In the clarity following the orgasm, I feel a flicker of guilt.
I don’t even know the girl’s name, and I just came imagining myself forcing her to her knees. I tell myself that it was just a fantasy, that I’d never do such a thing in reality. That I’d never use anyone’s circumstances to make them satisfy my own carnal lusts.
But still, there’s an unsettled feeling in my gut, as I finish my shower, muting the satisfaction of the orgasm. If nothing else, one thing is abundantly clear to me.
It’s a very, very good thing that I’m never going to see her again.
Mila
In the morning, I don’t feel as if I slept well, but it doesn’t matter. Being responsible for an eleven-year-old, especially one who can’t communicate his needs verbally, means that ducking my head back under the covers and sleeping in isn’t an option. I have hopes that in a year or two, Niki might have recovered enough that he’ll be able to do things like get his own cereal in the morning, while I get some extra sleep. But for now, he’ll just either hide in his bedroom, or find a place to sit and stay there until I get up, no matter how hungry he is.
He can only get better if he is able to keep going to therapy. Which means I have to figure out what to do now that Alfio is gone for good.
I can’t deny the relief I feel at never having to see the man again. Never having to touch him, or feign pleasure, or accept his advances, no matter how much the things he wanted, turned me off. But that relief is tainted with the knowledge that I’m unprepared for the loss of what I did get in return.
The heavy knock on the door that I’ve been dreading comes as I’m pouring Niki’s cereal. I quickly splash some milk over the rice krispies, carrying the bowl over to him. “Just sit tight and eat, I’ll be right back,” I tell him, keeping my voice as calm as possible as I walk to the front door.
As I expected, the landlord is standing outside. His face is thin and pinched, his shoulders tight, as if he’s already gearing up to shout at me. I slip out into the hall, closing the door behind me to shield Niki from the conversation.
“Look, I know I’m late,” I say hurriedly, before he can start to speak. “I have half of it in cash. I should have the rest after today. I’m sorry. Just give me a little more time?—”
He narrows his eyes. “I’ve given you enough. I told you after the last time, three days is all you get. After that?—”
“You know what happened.” I look at him pleadingly, trying to stifle my anger and keep it from slipping through into my expression. “It’s just me and Niki now. I’m trying to support us both. Please?—”
“I’m not running a charity here.” His lips thin. “You have cash?”
“Yes.” I gasp the word, reaching into the pocket of my jeans and pulling out the wad of bills. Some of it is the three hundred and fifty that I took from Alfio’s mansion, and the rest is a jumble of fives, tens, and dollar bills that I got at work, making up the other hundred and fifty. “Half of it. I’m working on the rest. I promise.”
He raises one dark eyebrow, flipping through the money as I push it into his hand. His mouth twitches when he sees the dollar bills, and he looks up at me, a gleam in his watery brown eyes that makes me uncomfortable. “Maybe we could work out some other arrangement. Some other way for you to pay off your half.”
Oh god, no. My skin crawls at the thought. It was bad enough being Alfio’s plaything, but at least he was handsome, and sometimes gave a shit about my pleasure. It’s not even just that the man in front of me is physically unattractive—it’s the way he’s looking at me, as if he’s already undressing me with his eyes and imagining my humiliation, that makes me feel as if maggots are crawling under my flesh. I take a step back without meaning to, feeling vaguely as if I might be sick.
“Just give me another day. Please.” I hate the begging, wheedling tone in my voice more than anything. I want to never have to beg a man for anything ever again. But right now, all that matters is that Niki keeps a roof over his head, and that there’s no more trauma added to what he’s already trying to heal from.
If I have to submit to this man’s desires to achieve that, I will. But god, I don’t want to.
The landlord licks his lips, his gaze sliding over me once more. “Fine,” he grinds out at last. “One more day. But if you don’t have the other five hundred tomorrow, or if you’re late next month, you either come upstairs to my apartment to pay for it—or you’re out. You and your brother. You’re not my problem.”
I nod quickly. Today. I have today. I’ll figure everything else out later—how to come up with next month’s on time so that I don’t have to give this man what he wants. As long as I have today, I can keep going. “I understand.”
