I expected Gabe to fuck me hard and fast. He knew I had little experience taking a cock, and I knew of his penchant for inflicting pain.
But he slid into me gently, burying himself inside my pussy at an achingly slow pace. I felt the tremor of need course through his body; it made me wonder how much effort it took for him to hold back.
“So fucking tight,” he breathed. “You might as well be a virgin.”
Despite his care, I couldn’t hide my wince. Would I always feel that twinge of discomfort from being penetrated?
Gabe bottomed out with a groan, then remained still inside me for a long moment. As if to test the sensitivity of my cunt, I squeezed my muscles all around him. Like so many things I experienced with this man, the act caused a throb of both pleasure and pain.
“That’s it, keep milking my cock!” he urged. I noticed the rapturous look that swept over his features every time I constricted my pussy.
When he finally began to move, I released a soft cry. With my arms around him, I lifted my legs higher, keeping myself spread wide. He alternated between deep and shallow thrusts, and the way he rotated his hips… my God! It felt like he was caressing every inch of my inner walls.
Filthy words fell from my lips, as if they’d been bottled up and were now gushing forth with no filter. “Yes, oh fuck, take my pussy!” As I raked my nails along his back, I let out an actual growl. “Your dick feels so damn good!”
My hips rocked to match his rhythm. When I’d fucked in the past, I was always a passive recipient, mostly quiet as I waited to experience any kind of pleasure. But my body was now an eager participant, readily offering itself up to Gabe’s cock.
I could hear the wet sound of our coupling. My slick flesh encircled him, as if trying to prevent his withdrawal. He pulled almost all the way out, then drove himself back inside me with a powerful thrust. My scream spurred him on, and while he pumped away between my thighs, I felt my cunt growing even more sensitive.
Gabe interlaced his fingers with mine, pinning my hands to the bed. I stared up at him in astonishment, for he seemed so different now, so… open to me, no longer hiding behind a sardonic smile. He let his need reveal itself in his slackened jaw and heavy-lidded eyes.
Angling his neck, he managed to give me a hard kiss. Then his lips traveled to my ear. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby?”
Trembling beneath him, I could only nod. My desperation was so overpowering that I would have let him do practically anything to me in that moment, if only he made me come.
Instead, he continued murmuring through heavy breaths. “Think about how angry, how disgusted, your father would be if he could see you right now.”
I gasped, my arousal immediately dimming.
“His sweet, innocent girl,” he went on, his thrusts merciless. “Taking my cock. Letting me fuck her raw.”
I hated him for twisting my lust into something sordid. Something I was ashamed of.
“I know it excites you, Opal.” Gabe’s rhythm grew wildly unpredictable, signaling his approaching climax. “You love doing something so dirty, so wrong.”
To my horror, his words made me moan. Just as he’d provoked my shame, he now used it to coax forth my orgasm. My face was feverishly hot, and I struggled to avoid the precipice awaiting me. I didn’t want to climax while awash in humiliation.
But my body surrendered with little fight. In the seconds before, I felt something like panic at my loss of control. Then I screamed from my rage and lust, and from my defeat.
Gabe withstood my contractions, though he was panting from his own need now. I writhed in his grip as my muscles painfully tightened. The orgasm seemed to somersault through my core, sending ripples of bliss all the way to my toes.
“I’m almost there,” Gabe choked out.
Though I continued shuddering, I managed to say, “I’m not on the pill!”
“It doesn’t matter.” He rutted away, striving for his release. “I’m gonna fill you with my cum, Opal.”
I could have insisted he pull out; I was certain he would listen. This was another of his tests to see just how far I’d go.
I let him hold me down. Closing my eyes, I whimpered through a series of orgasmic aftershocks.
“Look at me,” Gabe demanded.
I did as he said. When our eyes locked, I heard his gasp, almost startled. His entire body grew rigid in anticipation.
Then he let go, his cock pulsing inside me. The sensation of his semen flooding my inner walls filled me with both intense satisfaction and abject fear. How could I be so careless? So reckless?
And how could he?
With a groan, he rested his body on top of mine. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm my surging panic.
When Gabe planted a kiss on my mouth, I didn’t immediately respond. Lifting his head, he peered down at me. I met his stare only for a second before looking away.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said. His hand was gentle on my hair. “I had a vasectomy a long time ago. I can’t get you pregnant.”
My mouth dropped open. Within me, relief and outrage warred for dominance. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?” I managed to blurt out.
That sly smile returned to his lips. “I wanted to see how eager you were for my cum.”
“You’re an asshole!” Wriggling beneath him, I squeezed my pussy muscles in an attempt to force his softening cock out of me.
“You’re only now realizing that?” Gabe gave me a wink and then slid out of my cunt entirely. I started to sit up, but he wrapped his long fingers around my wrist. “I’m sorry, Opal.”
It surprised me, hearing him apologize. He seemed like a man who rarely, if ever, did. I let him draw me back down to his side.
“You’re right; I should have told you before,” he went on in a quiet voice. “And if you’d asked me to pull out, you know I would have.”
Though I offered a grudging nod in response, I didn’t resist when Gabe slipped his arms around me. In his embrace, I slowly relaxed as I pressed my face to his chest. Thank God I wouldn’t have to pay for my risky behavior. At least, not this time.
And now that Gabe had made such a personal revelation about his past, I felt emboldened to try to learn more. Pretending to be casual, as if I didn’t much care, I asked, “Why did you and Evelyn’s mother divorce?”
He didn’t hesitate before replying, “Because I was a shitty husband.”
As he spoke, his palm slid over my skin. At that very moment, I could feel his semen leaking out of me.
“We never should have gotten married,” Gabe went on. “I wasn’t long out of college, and I was just starting my career.”
He’d once mentioned what he did for work. It was right after we first met, and I’d paid little attention. He had some prestigious role in the corporate world, one that kept the capitalistic wheel grinding.
“So why did you get married?” I asked while circling a fingertip around his nipple. I traced lazy patterns on his chest, spelling out our initials like a dumb schoolgirl.
“She got pregnant.”
My eyes widened a little. “I guess that explains the vasectomy.”
Gabe actually chuckled at my flippant remark, but when he spoke again, his tone held no humor. “For once in my life, I wanted to do the right thing. I told myself I was ready to be a husband and father. But it was a struggle from the start. I was working long hours, and there never seemed to be enough money at that time.” He released a barely audible sigh. “Even after I got promoted, and there was more than enough money, I practically lived at the office. It was easier than being home, where the resentment between me and my wife just kept growing.”
“I’m sure a lot of couples have problems like that,” I said.
“True, but I compounded them by having one affair after another.”
I wasn’t at all surprised by Gabe’s confession. If anything, it was difficult for me to imagine him staying faithful as a young man.
“I felt my wife withheld sex as a way to try to manipulate me,” he revealed. “So I looked to satisfy my needs elsewhere.”
Lifting my head, I searched his face. “And she found out? Is that why you divorced?”
Gabe didn’t avert his eyes in shame, the way I would have. No, he held my stare, as if welcoming my judgment.
“I made no secret of the affairs, but it was as if she believed we should stay together no matter what. That we should remain married and simply… suffer.” He shook his head, clearly bewildered by her motivations even now. “I was the one who left.”
For some insane reason, I felt the urge to defend him. “So she was the perfect spouse, and the marriage ending was all your fault?” My words practically dripped with skepticism.
Gabe smiled faintly. “I’m not saying she was perfect. I’m merely shouldering my share of the blame.” When he moved slightly to get more comfortable, he kept his arm around me. “And I was a pathetic excuse for a father. Evelyn was angry about the divorce; all she knew was that I’d deeply hurt her mother. By the time I left, my daughter was sixteen, and she made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with me. It was easy—too easy—for me to walk away.”
I tried to hide my wince. Since Dad had fallen in love with Evelyn, I’d often nursed a secret sense of betrayal, feeling he now cared for her more than me. But I couldn’t imagine him abandoning me the way Gabe turned his back on Evelyn.
Again, it seemed my thoughts and Gabe’s were eerily synced, for he said, “Sometimes I wonder if Evelyn married your dad because she craved a father figure.”
His words made my stomach churn, but I strove to keep my expression neutral.
“After all,” Gabe said, “your dad is ten years her senior, and he’s very… nurturing. He dotes on her.”
“It’s nauseating sometimes,” I muttered. So much for being neutral.
Gabe wove his fingers through my hair. Though his grasp was gentle, it forced me to meet his eyes. “Is that why you’re here in my bed right now? Because you want to get revenge on my daughter for stealing your father?”
I started to insist that wasn’t true; already, I’d drawn in a breath and planned to let it out as an emphatic denial. But when Gabe’s gaze grew unexpectedly tender, I had to blink back tears. Even as I was desperate to hide, I knew he wouldn’t let me.
“Sometimes,” I said, “I’m so angry that I want to take an ax to all the new furniture she’s bought. I want to tell her to stop being such a goddamn phony, pretending to like me. When I saw what she’d done to the house, I wanted to slap the smile off her face!” The secrets gushed out of me, and I felt powerless to stop them. “Sometimes I want to destroy my father’s marriage, even though I know it would break his heart.”
I figured Gabe would be disgusted; he had every right to call me a spoiled brat. Instead, he regarded me with that look of… knowing. Of absolute understanding.
“Gabe,” I whispered as fat tears spilled down my cheeks, “I’m afraid I’m rotten inside.”
He didn’t try to convince me I wasn’t. While caressing my damp face, he said in a voice full of regret, “Some of us are, baby.”
For the first time in my life, I felt truly seen. This man understood what I was, and instead of turning away in revulsion, he accepted my deepest flaw, for it was the same darkness he recognized in himself.
And in that moment, I began to love him.
“But I would never tell Evelyn about us,” I promised. “So this isn’t about revenge.”
“Isn’t it?” He raised his eyebrows. “Even if no one ever finds out, you’ll still feel a twisted sense of satisfaction every time you see her, won’t you?”
I started to withdraw from him, but he held me fast.
“It’s alright, Opal,” he murmured. “I understand.”
And then he kissed me with such passion that my aching clit resumed its needy throbbing. I welcomed the way his tongue invaded my mouth and his fingers slipped between my thighs.
I let him punish me with his touch; I craved it.
“Even after my wreck of a marriage, I didn’t learn from those mistakes,” he said above my whimpers. “I hurt other women whom I tried to love. I could be… quite cruel.”
Gabe was relentless in rubbing my clit, as if I were the reason for his sins.
“Eventually, I swore off romantic relationships,” he went on. “I told myself I’m good for a fuck but nothing more.”
I stared up at him helplessly. I didn’t want to come, not while he was telling me such things. But I felt the orgasm building within me like a threat.
“Now I’m involved with you, and it’s not just about fucking.” He breathed faster at the sight of me coming apart.
I cried out, my body seizing in the grip of climax, yet I easily heard him when he added, “I don’t know if that means I care for you too little, or too much.”
