Abuse: The Complete Trilogy (34 page)

“Only poisonous people
or poisonous situations prevent a person’s natural journey toward personal
growth or healing.”

— André Chevalier

~~~

Renata
Koreman

“You want it?”
he bites out the question. The strength of his need turns his words into an
urgent, harsh demand. “You want me to shoot my cum all over your beautiful
breasts?”

“Damn right I
do,” I say, as I furiously begin to rub my clit in earnest. My body strains as
I edge toward my own breaking point. I’ll climax just from watching him orgasm.
With one touch of his semen, I’ll go over.

“Give it to me.
I want to feel your hot cum on my nipples,” I cry, pushing my breasts out
toward him. “Now, Grant.
Now!
Give it to me!”

“Yes,” he
growls.

Grant’s shaft is
throbbing, standing proud and long. His hand stays near the head of his dick,
working it faster and faster.

His eyes focus
directly upon me.

Suddenly his
balls pull up tight.

“Uh, uh, uh,
uh,” lips parted, Grant grunts out the sweet agony of his erotic pleasure in a
long, guttural groan. Throwing his head back, he squeezes his eyes closed. His
handsome face contorts and his body shudders as a wave of pleasure runs through
him.

“Renata,” he
gasps, as a rope of his hot, milky seed bursts from his swollen cock. It splashes
across my breasts, just as he opens his eyes.

“Yes,
God,
Yes!”
I cry out, finger-fucking myself toward my own release. Liquid from
my pussy has already soaked my panties. Now it’s dripping along my thighs and
onto the sheets.

Two, three,
four… five lengthy spurts of hot sexy cum. Grant guides his pulsing cock to
precisely where he wants his seed to land. His beautiful shaft continues to
jerk and convulse until he’s completely emptied himself over me.

I’ve been
burning with lust while anticipating this moment for so long. The reality is
far hotter than any fantasy I’ve imagined. The sight, the sound, and the heady
male smell of him is beyond euphoric.

My body
tightens, then suddenly erupts. An electric jolt flows through me in rhythmic
waves.

“Oh, God,
Grant,” I call out as I climax, shuddering and convulsing in pulse after pulse
of excruciating pleasure.

Twitching, my
legs quiver as I’m rocked by orgasmic tremors. The man hasn’t even touched me,
but all of this erotic foreplay makes my release mind-blowing anyway.

When he’s
finished ejaculating everything in his balls, he stares at the long white
strands that now cover my breasts. The delicious scent of sex fills the air. My
nipples are pebbled, the skin on my chest is wet and warm.

Collapsing, I recline
backwards on the bed. Grant falls heavily back onto his chair.

Limp and sated,
I’m floating in a haze of post-orgasmic languor.

I look down. My
eyes flutter and then widen at what I see. Holy Christ, there was a shit-load
of cum in this one man. I stare at his heavy balls. Just how long has that
truckload of cargo been in there? I know he’s been saving it up, but this is
ridiculous.

My nipples are
buried in semen.

I grin. Grant is
definitely a good shot.

As the aftermath
of orgasm finally begins to drift away, I smile up at him. His skin is covered
in a glistening sheen of sweat. It gives him a strikingly healthy glow.

“Feel any need
to jump up and run off?” I ask.

“No, ma’am,” he
grins. “Not a bit. I’m fixin’ to stay right here.”

“Is that right?”
I grin.

“Hell, yes,” he
says, his voice low and seductive. “I don’t think we’re done yet, do you? Not
by a long shot.”

We grin stupidly
at each other for an extended moment of happy bliss.

My gaze drifts
lower. Grant is still impressively semi-hard. I suspect that his poor neglected
cock is eager to make up for lost time. He reaches for tissues to wipe off his
cum, but I shake my head from side to side.

“No, leave it,”
I say, running a finger through his essence. It’s thick and warm. I put my
cum-coated finger into my mouth and suck it clean, enjoying his unique musky
taste.

He eyes open
wide, but I can tell that I’ve pleased him.

I lick my lips.
“Yum,” I say happily. “I want to keep this beautiful memory right here where we
can both enjoy it. I think it’s an outstanding work of art, don’t you?”

His mouth falls
open. Shock and confusion cross his face before his generous lips purse.

As always, Grant
is a thinker. He has to send any thoughts concerning sex through a bunch of his
mental filters. His brows draw down for a long moment and then they lift. I see
his eyes light up as he begins to understand.

“Not mind. Not
spirit. We’re working through the body, right?”

“You got it.”

“It’s kind of an
unconscious or instinctive, animal thing.”

“Sure is.”

“I don’t know
why leaving my seed right there on your skin makes me so damned happy,” he says
contemplatively. “I don’t understand it, but there’s something right about it.
It isn’t logical. Is it…
primal?

I raise an
eyebrow but say nothing, letting him work it out.

He remains
silent for a bit longer, but then he nods. “I’ve marked you sexually with my
scent—I’ve marked you with
me
and you’ve accepted it. You’ve even
enjoyed it. Sort of like possession or ownership.” A concentrated frown mars
his face. “Can this be compared to a dog peeing on his territory?”

I laugh. “Only
if his territory can sigh with the satisfaction of sensual bliss.”

We both choke on
a short, quick burst of laughter, but I see real joy reflected in the sparkle
in his eyes.

Powerful
emotions flit across his features too fast for me to read. He says nothing, yet
I suspect he’s reached some new awareness about himself or about life. All I’m
certain of is that whatever it is that he’s feeling, on a scale of 1 to 10—I
think Grant is sitting on a hundred.

Some
understandings are so deep and compelling they can’t be explained by mere
words.

“Thank you,” he
says, his voice low, his expression open, exposed and profoundly grateful. Our
connection in this endless moment is beyond intense. He’s flawed and he’s
perfect—just like the rest of us.

I understand then,
that this seemingly broken man is not truly been broken.

There’s a bright,
enduring soul inside him that has
never
been defeated.

My heart kicks.
I bite my lip and school my face. I’m so moved, I have to stop myself from an
overwhelming need to weep from the beauty of it. I don’t want to break the
spell or ruin the moment by giving Grant the wrong idea.

I’m not up to
explaining it.

He’s
extraordinary. This gentle, yet powerful man affects me as deeply as I affect
him.

What a perfect
beginning.

Breathing out a
happy sigh, Grant picks up the deck of cards and hands me half.

“Courage is
the beginning of victory.”

―
Plutarch

~~~

Grant
Wilkinson

I sprawl in my
chair, buck naked. Bare, except for her light blue panties, her generous
breasts bouncing—Renata gets up.

“I’m going to
get a drink,” she says. “You want anything?”

“I’ll have
Coke,” I reply, and I watch her leave the room.

I’ve never
experienced
anything
like the way I feel when I’m with Renata. My cock
twitches—I’m already hard again. In fact, I’m half-mad with wanting her. What
is this insatiable torment? I’ve lived my life in a sexual drought, yet instead
of easing my need, Renata has increased it a hundredfold.

I thought I
would continue to live an isolated life of quiet desperation. Not anymore.
Renata’s changed
everything.

My father helped
me build my prison, but
I
was the one who locked myself inside of it. I
didn’t know any other way. Maybe now I can break free from my self-imposed
confinement, or at least open the door and let her in.

Except for that
shit with the police literally ‘digging up’ the past by exhuming my dead
father, my future seems full of endless possibilities.

Hips swaying,
naked and sexy as hell, Renata strolls back into the room.

“Hey,” she says,
and hands me an open bottle of Coke. “Briley is so cute!” she gushes. “He’s
sound asleep, I just checked on him. God, I just love looking at him and
listening to him breathe.”

Uninhibited in
her nudity, she sits down across from me, crosses her legs Indian style, and
leans forward in a comfortable slouch.

The woman leaves
me breathless.

I stare at her,
just drinking her in. Renata’s blonde hair is striking against the background
of greys and blues in my room. I’m fascinated by her soft, feminine curves. I
love her perfect smile and her laughing eyes.

I think I could
fuck her twenty times tonight and it still wouldn’t be enough—but it isn’t only
her body that draws me. It’s her mind, or her indomitable spirit.

There’s just
something about her that makes me feel so damn grateful to be alive.

I’ve spent my
life paying for sex—I didn’t want to defile a ‘normal’ woman. I was a monster
that didn’t deserve love. I can’t think that way now, not when Renata sees me
so differently.

As I drink my Coke,
I study the exquisite woman who’s helped to change my life. A full load of my
cum is still there, drying all over her perfect breasts. What a sight! And what
an incredible idea it was of hers to leave it there.

I used to be
repulsed and disgusted by semen. Not anymore. My cum looks earthy and primal
and
right
on her. How did she know what I needed when I didn’t know
myself?

“What are you
thinking?” Renata asks. Her lips curve in a Mona Lisa smile, while her vivid
blue eyes shine with desire and affection.

“That my cum
looks good on you,” I reply, basking in the warmth of her gaze. The woman
genuinely likes me—I’ll never get over that.

“Oh, I agree,”
she says enthusiastically.

Her
pronouncement is followed by a quick snort of laughter—an inelegant and
unapologetic sound. It makes me grin. Scorching hot and blatantly aroused, or
open and playful—Renata is who she is. Why is this so easy for her? How can she
so shamelessly be herself with me?

Tilting her
head, she studies me. “What else?”

“So many things.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m happy.”

I can’t tell her
any more. I’m buzzed and I’m in the zone. Forget mind and spirit. From now on,
I’m up for carnal urges all the way.

The air
surrounding us is a fog of sexual tension, yet we smile at each other in
companionable silence.

It’s a strangely
balmy night in Dallas. A soft, cool breeze flows through my open window. Summer
evening sounds of crickets and bullfrogs softly fill the air.

Today while we
were shopping, Renata’s powerhouse of a personality was buried behind a shy
exterior. It rocked me, completely taking me by surprise. Meek is not who she
is.

I
know
the real Renata. She’s sitting on the bed across from me, expectant and ready
to play.

“I see you’re
hard again already,” she says, raising an eyebrow and eyeing my cock. “I like
that in a man.”

I laugh and
stare at her crotch. “And you don’t need to get caught in the rain for me to
know your soaking wet,” I reply.

“You’re not
wrong!” she admits, laughing uproariously.

“Shall we keep
playing?” I ask.

“Of course,”
Renata says, putting down her Coke. “First I’ll have a very quick shower.” Her
eyes lower, glancing down to her breasts. “I think it’s time for the semen to
go.”

I chuckle.
“That’s OK. It’s served its purpose. I’ll never think of ejaculate the same
way.”

She grins at me
with a teasing, knowing smile. “That was the idea.”

“It was a really
good idea,” I say, as she walks into the bathroom.

I hear the
shower running. When I think of cum now, I’ll think of how I sprayed it upon
her like bestowing a gift. I’ll also remember Renata’s pleasure in receiving
it.

They say
ignorance is bliss, but it wasn’t in my case. Intimacy is bliss. Understanding
is bliss. Having the courage to speak out—
that
is bliss.

I’m not dirty,
ashamed or disgusted. I’ve been with Renata for hours, laughing, flirting and
enjoying myself.

It’s beyond
belief. I
never
thought sex could be fun. Physically, I felt compelled
to engage in it from time to time. Afterwards, I hated myself.

For me, sex was
akin to going to the hospital for a surgical procedure: something that had to
be done, but there was never any real joy in it.

Now there is
joy.

I never thought
I'd be capable of feeling this way. Something inside of me has shifted. I’m
already changed.

When Renata
returns, my cum is gone and she’s still wearing her blue underpants! Too bad.
Hopefully, I’ll get her naked soon. She sits down across from me, on the bed.

“You start,” she
says.

I lean forward
and flip my card over. It’s a six of diamonds—too low.
Shit.
I want to
win this one. Will she throw something lower than a six?

Renata, bless
her, flips a two of hearts. Laughter bubbles out of me at my win. I’ve never
laughed so much in my whole life combined as I have during this one evening
with her.

“Truth or dare?”
I immediately ask.

“Dare,” she
smirks. Renata already knows what I want.

“Lose the
panties,” I say in a throaty growl.

"Your
mind will answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the
answer."

— William S.
Burroughs 

~~~

Grant
Wilkinson

Directly in
front of me, Renata stands up and stretches gracefully. She acts so innocent,
but her tits are almost right in my face, the mischievous tease.

Shoulders back,
hips swinging, she gracefully saunters to the center of the room and positions
herself into a tempting, provocative pose.

What the hell is
she up to now?

Captivated by
her performance, filled with anticipation and excitement, I turn toward her,
shifting to get comfortable in my chair. A flush of warm pleasure rolls over me
as I focus my attention on her.

“You want me to
lose my panties?” she asks, regarding me innocently from beneath her lashes.
“Do you mean… you want me to take my panties
off
?” Her voice rings with
shock and surprise.

Renata’s index
finger inches up to touch her moist, parted lips. Her expression is
priceless—she looks so modest and unsure of herself.

Yeah, right!
She's wholeheartedly enjoying the ‘nervous virgin’ act. The woman’s in her
element.

Her eyebrows
arch with a shy question, giving the impression that she’s a little flustered.
“Do you…” she says shyly, “do you think I
should?”

Her behavior is
so unexpected that I throw back my head and laugh out loud.

Renata grins,
gives me a playful wink as she begins a very slow and sexy striptease. You
wouldn’t think she could do much, not with only one tiny article of clothing to
take off—but she easily draws it out.

Years ago, I saw
a striptease at a friend’s birthday party in the VIP section of a club. Not
that I blame the stripper, but the woman’s sexual interest wasn’t even remotely
authentic. Quite frankly, it seemed so forced, fabricated and sleazy that it
seriously turned me off.

Fake sex.

False love.

These things
disturb the still, dark waters of my mind. They muddy my thoughts, stirring up
monstrous and humiliating images of betrayal. When I fall into this kind of
mental quagmire, I usually run away in a fruitless attempt to escape my past
and clear my mind.

Unfortunately,
no one can escape their past. How can a person run from themselves? Wherever
you go… there you are.

What Renata is
doing is nothing at all like what the stripper did. Sure, she’s play-acting for
fun, but she genuinely cares. Her interest in me is real.

She’s
real.

Turning around
to show me her shapely back, she bends over. With her butt up in the air,
pointed toward me, she slowly pulls her undies down. My blood boils when I see
her sweet naked ass. Those creamy white globes are firm, round and fucking
gorgeous. She flashes her tempting backside, swinging her hips suggestively
side to side.

I groan in loud
protest when the tiny slip of cloth covers her up again.

Renata laughs
and swings her head, tossing her blonde hair over to one side. Her eyes sparkle
with mischief when she looks at me over her shoulder. That sassy grin of hers
is captivating. So is her teasing, wanton enjoyment.

“You’re making
me feel things I’ve never felt before,” I say, in an unexpectedly harsh voice.

“
Reeeally?”
I can tell this idea pleases her. “Like what?”

“Like, for the
first time in my life, I honestly want to give a spanking.”

“No!
Seriously?
”
The look she gives me is a strange combination of distaste, mild interest and
curiosity. I don’t think she’s ever had a spanking before. That’s fine by me
because I’ve certainly never given one.

Her eyes narrow
as she studies me. “Do you want to punish the naughty girl?”

I give her a
one-shouldered shrug. “I’d much rather fuck her.”

Nodding her head
in what appears to be approval and relief, she laughs. “Good to know.”

Her stimulating
erotic dance continues with both of us grinning and laughing. When she finally
lowers her panties, taking them off entirely, I stare at her crotch. My eyes
widen and my mouth falls open. I’m unable to hide my shock.

“What?” she
asks.

“You shave,” I
say hoarsely and then swallow hard.

“Laser, baby. I
got rid of my pubic hair years ago. I have the perfect skin for laser
treatments. Do you like it?” she asks, spreading her legs slightly to more
completely display her hairless sex.

My cock pulses
violently—I barely prevent climax.

Unable to speak,
I clear my throat. “It’s… ” I pause, mentally grasping for an adjective to
describe her pussy. “It’s… very pretty,” I manage to choke out.

Renata giggles
outrageously. “Thank you,” she says. “The skin of my mound is really soft and
smooth. When you’re ready, maybe tomorrow—you can touch it and find out for
yourself.”

I mutter a soft
oath and she laughs.

Renata continues
doing her naughty striptease, using her panties to hide her private parts, such
as her nipples. She swings and drapes the thin strip of cloth over herself and
then trails them over me while continuing her sexy dance.

I can almost
hear music accompanying her erotic display.

One hand holding
them in front, one hand in back, Renata moves them back and forth between her
legs, rubbing them against her pussy in a seductive, hip-swinging motion. It
looks as though she’s riding that damned underwear.

“Giddy-up
cowboy,” she says with a saucy grin while ‘riding’ her panties.

My jaw clenches.

I hunger for her
with ferocious need. An intense urge to capture her, hold her down over my knee
and spank her returns with a vengeance. Would she fight me? Would I be forced
to overpower her? I wouldn’t want to do it if she didn’t like it. Why does the
mere thought of it excite me?

Is it that
perhaps because a spanking would stop her mischievous teasing? Or because her
tight, round ass looks so alluring.

I long to
possess her, own her, and spank her silly. After reddening her backside she’d
collapse, limp with exhaustion and wet with desire. Then Renata would give in
fully and completely—but
only
to me.

My cock twitches
and I shake my head. Where the hell do these thoughts come from?

Yet, the ideas
remain and they are… compelling.

Parting her legs
while bending over, she moves her ass and hips in a manner that mimics the in
and out action of fucking. My heart hammers against my chest while the blood in
my veins begins to boil. Renata is taunting me to madness. Every inch of me is
as tight as a coiled spring. My sexual tension has built to an impossible
level.

I think I’m
going to explode.

Her eyes sparkle
with lust. The naughty mischief maker enjoys teasing me. When she comes closer,
without any warning, I snatch her panties from her in a quick-fingered grab.

Renata blinks
and her lips part—she didn’t expect that.

I love that I
surprised her.

I look her
straight in the eye as I put that tantalizing blue strip of fabric against my
nose and inhale deeply. Oh my God. The damned thing is drenched. The woman
smells fantastic.

Her eyes widen
and her legs begin to tremble. For once, she’s speechless. She sure as hell
didn’t expect that, either.

I think she
liked it. I’ve turned her on.

This satisfies
me on a deep, primitive level.

“Wow,” she says,
“You’re fast.”

“I can be slow,
too,” I murmur suggestively, keeping a completely straight face.

Renata gets my
joke instantly. The sound of her uninhibited laughter makes a smile curl my
lips.

Everything
inside me vibrates in a primal need to take her. Mouth dry, pulse pounding, my
breath fast and shallow—my body reacts to her heady scent and sexual responses.
Wet and willing, this beautiful, intelligent woman wants
me.

I still can’t
believe it.

When I see her
laughing and smiling, the polar ice I have inside of me melts. I want my body
to fill hers. I need to fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her some more. Renata
drives me wild and tests my self-control.

With her in my
life, I’m more alive than I’ve ever been before.

I’m not a normal
guy, especially when it comes to sex. A lifetime of self-doubt and
self-loathing made me see myself as a monster.

Intimacy makes
me nervous.

I don’t kiss.
I’m uncomfortable cuddling. I don’t want hugs and I doubt if I could ever
sleep
with a woman. How do people do that? How do they deal with another person in
their bed, right there intimate and up close while they sleep?

I can’t imagine
a future with Renata in it.

Yet, I can’t
imagine a future without her.

I’m only sure of
one thing—I care about her more than I care about myself. There isn’t
anything
on this earth I wouldn’t do for her.

Despite the
solid evidence of my arousal—in the form of my throbbing cock—I calmly tuck her
panties behind me on the chair and lean forward. I force myself to be composed
and businesslike, reach for my half of the deck, pick it up and flip another
card.

“Ace of clubs,”
I announce. My heart skips a beat because the ace is a winning card. I can’t
lose.

My body burns at
the thought of what I want from her.

Renata slouches
down gracefully on my bed and picks up her half of the deck. Her lips twitch
with humor as she stares at my card and then at me. Her blue eyes are full of
erotic promise.

“Hmm,” she
muses. “Unless I throw down an ace, you win.”

My throat
tightens and my aching cock throbs. “Yes,” I murmur.

My mind reels
with all the things I want to see, not to mention the things I want to do if I
get up the nerve to risk it. I don’t want to sink back into usual mental shit,
so staying touch-free is still a good plan… at least for tonight.

And tomorrow?
Well, if I don’t go to jail, who knows what I might be capable of?

Renata flips
over the ace of spades, and I curse under my breath.

“What happens
now?” I ask.

Her expression
softens at my obvious frustration.

“Can’t you
tell?” She grins. “This is a win-win, hon, because now we
both
get what
we want.”