Page 39 of Just Past Two

“Because it’s fucking hot, Goddamn it.” He pulled her closer to him. “I’m not ashamed of your past, and I don’t want you to be, either. You don’t have to change who you are for me.”

“It’s all mixed up in my head, though. Being a selfish, irresponsible college kid and…all this kinky stuff. They’re from the same parts of my life. I worked hard to grow up.” She looked down at their entwined hands. “And growing up meant I got a degree, a good job, and most of all, I got you. These fantasies make me feel like I’m betraying this person I worked hard to become.”

She was really living with this kind of angst, this turmoil? “Abby. I would have loved you no matter what. I love you more than anything, can’t you see that?” He squeezed her hands. “These fantasies don’t mean anything. They certainly don’t mean we don’t love each other. They don’t mean you aren’t a talented, capable, responsible, gorgeous, amazing woman. Because you’re all those things. And it is the fucking hottest thing in the entire world for me to watch you be that gorgeous, amazing woman you are with another man.”

The color rose high on Abby’s cheeks, a deep red flush. “I don’t…” she began, but then trailed off.

“I love that you have these cravings. These urges. I love this side of you.”

She was breathing more quickly, now, hope and worry and lust warring in her expression.

“I want to know you’re being pleasured.” He stepped into her, pushing her against the closed door of the closet, her tiny intake of breath so sweet in his ears. “I want to know that some other man is making you fall apart, that he’s enjoying you as much as I do.” He skimmed his hands down her sides, settling on her hips, and pulled her against him. At the press of his rigid erection against her soft belly, her eyes went wide and her mouth slack. “Does this convince you enough?”

Her eyelids fluttered. “But…I’m going to keep feeling this way. Aren’t you worried?”

“Should I be?”

She bit her lip. “I would never do anything to hurt you, even if I wanted to. I don’t want to want to.”

“But I want you to want to.” He smiled at how silly it sounded. “And I want you to want to want to.”

Abby smiled as well, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

He couldn’t wait anymore; he had to kiss her, mouth hot and wet against hers. She moaned, soft, needy, and kissed him back. He kept speaking against her mouth, words spilling out. “I want to watch other men fuck you, Abby. Or not even watch. Maybe I want you to go meet some man and sleep with him, and come home and tell me about it. Give me all the sweet details while I slide in your tight, wet cunt.”

“Oh God, Sam,” she breathed, shuddering.

He had to get inside her, right now. He skimmed her dress up her hips, pushing her back against the door, which rattled. They both paused, and without another word, shifted so she was pressed against the wall beside the door instead. She helped, sliding her underwear off, letting them fall to the floor, and he was already fumbling with his trousers to push them down to his knees.

Abby lifted up on her toes, and he hiked one of her legs up over his hip and drove his length all the way inside her. She was drenched, hot and so snug around him. Her breath caught as he fucked into her, and she clawed at his shirt, her fingernails digging into his back.

“You like that?” he asked, voice deep like a growl. “You like the thought of me fucking your sweet, sloppy pussy after somebody else has already loosened you up?”

“Holy fuck, Sam.” She shifted against him. “Yes, God, I love that.”

“You want to fuck Stephan? Hmm? You like to think about his big cock splitting you open?”

“Shh, not so loud.” She put a hand over his mouth, but he pulled away and whispered the next words into her ear.

“I love it. I love thinking about you like that. I want you to be a total slut for me.”

She whimpered, her words trailing off, and that was just as well, because he could barely keep quiet himself. She squeezed around him like a tight, wet fist. “I can’t…” she breathed, barely audibly. “You feel so big like this.”

Her muscles were squeezing around him, so he must be stretching her, the position standing here tightening everything up for both of them. Items on the shelves near them were rocking with each thrust, their fucking less silent than when they’d started, but right now, Sam could only focus on this pleasure building deep inside his body. His climax was gathering from the soles of his feet, from every nerve ending. He couldn’t touch her clit like this, one of his arms bracing himself above her head, the other keeping her knee hiked up over his hip. He wanted her to come. Wanted to see her face when she couldn’t hold it in anymore, wanted that blissful expression to wash over her, that viselike grip as she clenched over and over again in pleasure.

Her breath stuttered, fingernails suddenly biting into his skin though the fabric of his shirt, and her whole body seized. With her head thrown back against the wall, eyes squeezed tightly shut, she could have been in pain, but those tight spasms around his cock weren’t spasms of pain. He couldn’t hold back anymore, thank God, and came deep inside her, pleasure whiting out all other thought and feeling. She gasped again at the sensation of him climaxing inside her, and then sagged against him, her leg slipping down off his hip.

For a moment, they just caught their breaths. The noises of the party were suddenly very close. Had they just done this? Had he just fucked his wife in the supply closet at the annual office party? Sam grinned at the thought of it, the decadence, the insanity of this action.

Abby started to laugh, quietly, pressing her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Did we just do that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we did.” Sam carefully withdrew, his cock sliding from her warmth. “You’re gonna be…kind of a mess.”

Abby held her dress up, looking down at her legs now pressed tightly together. “Fuck, it’s kind of hot, right?”

“What?”