ReunionSubmission (3 page)

He stopped after another moment and laughed ruefully.

“No coming for me either, although you’re just about killing
me. But the first one must be inside you.”

I had one moment of clarity. “I’m not on any birth control,”
I blurted, disregarding his instruction not to speak.

He clicked his tongue at me, patronizingly.

“I have condoms. And you are not supposed to say a word. I
will take care of you, in all ways, and that includes having safe sex with you.
But now I’ll have to punish you for breaking the rules.”

Oh crap, I felt a real surge of anxiety. I didn’t dare speak
but I desperately wanted to know what he meant.

“Never mind now,” he said, bending over and kissing my
nipple roughly. “You have another test tube to worry about. We’re up to
forty-five millimeters now.”

He held up the test tube. It was seriously big.

“You just lie back and relax,” he whispered. “We’ll take
this one very slowly. Don’t tense up.”

He stood between my feet and spread my pussy open wide.

“You are so wet. Open up, don’t fight it.”

I felt the big round tip pressing against my entrance. My
muscles contracted and the pressure built.

“Come on, you can’t keep it out. Just let it happen.” He
kept whispering to me and suddenly the tip popped past my outer muscles, and
with a rush it was inside me. He immediately started to twist it and work it
deeper. It was just short of painful, splitting me open, parting my tender
flesh, stretching my channel all the way to my cervix. I squirmed and tried to
push it out with my inner muscles but he held it in place.

“Take it easy,” he said. “I’m not taking it out yet. We have
to open you up for me. Give your muscles a chance to stretch out.”

I was so close to coming I was almost going crazy. The
stretching, filling sensation was too much. I moaned and writhed on the
counter, pulling against the cables around my wrists, desperate to touch myself
and make it happen.

“Wait,” said Simon.

He pushed my legs together and down, trapping the test tube
inside me, my thighs preventing it from squeezing out when my inner muscles
contracted.

“Stay like that. Hold it in,” he instructed, moving around
to my side.

He bent over me and kissed my mouth again, taking care to
draw me into the kiss. He rubbed his tongue over mine and moaned harshly into
my mouth when I sucked it and rubbed him back. I could feel his body jerking as
he palmed his erection again, working it with his hand while he kissed me. He
trailed his kiss over my cheek, to my ear, inhaling the smell of my skin and
hair, and drew my earlobe into his mouth. The whole time the hard plastic tube
inside me made my muscles throb as they tried to contract to some semblance of
normality but were relentlessly held open.

He kissed his way down my throat, licking and biting, and
paused at the sensitive skin just above my collarbone to suck and nip me
gently. Electric thrills of sensation seemed to run from his mouth directly to
my core, intensifying as he licked his way to my breast. He sucked my nipple
frantically, releasing himself to roll and pinch the other nipple with his
hand, on and on, the sweetest torture that I could have imagined.

Once again the orgasm built inside me, like a dam about to
burst, but once again he seemed to know that I was on the brink and he stopped
stimulating me. I groaned in despairing frustration.

“Forgive me, baby,” he gasped, “but it’s for your own good.
There’s still one more to go.”

He held up another plastic tube, improbably wide. I felt my
eyes widen in disbelief and for a panicky moment I wondered if I should use the
safeword. He seemed to sense my distress.

“I know you can do it, Sam.” His voice was low and urgent.
“This one is fifty-five millimeters wide. It’s almost as big as I am. Don’t
give up now, so close to the end… So close to having me inside you.”

He began moving back toward my feet.

“We’re going to do this quickly,” he continued as he bent my
legs up and parted them again. He took hold of the tube inside me and pumped it
up and down a few times, quite roughly. It slipped in and out with ease now. I
had, indeed, stretched to accommodate it.

“I’m going to take this one out and immediately insert the
other,” he said, his voice strained and excited. “I’m not going to give you a
chance to close up at all. This one is not much bigger than the one that’s in
you, so I’m sure it won’t hurt much.”

Some small part of my brain was screaming that he was crazy,
but my passion-soaked frontal lobe was utterly incapable of anything resembling
reason, so I simply nodded and told myself to try to relax.

He moved so quickly. The tube was pulled out of me in a
slithering rush and the head of the next one was already on its way in before
my mind registered the pain. And this time, there was definite pain. The walls
of my channel burned in fiery protest at the invasion. I cried out but he was
relentless, and the tube was seated into position, despite my writhing attempts
to resist it or evade it.

“Oh my God, Sam,” he choked out, “you have no idea what that
looks like!”

He reached under the counter that I was lying on and brought
out an observation lamp, standing it between my feet and quickly switching on
the beam, directing it onto my pussy, so close that I could feel the warmth
from the high-powered globe. He bent closer and studied me intently. Seeing him
examining me caused my tormented inner muscles to spasm painfully around the
huge, unforgiving plastic tube.

“You are so open,” he ground out, his voice scarcely
recognizable, “and because it’s clear plastic, I can see all the way up inside
you. I can see the walls of your cunt moving against the tube. And you’re
dripping wet all over.”

He was rubbing himself almost violently, drops of pre-come
flicking off him and landing mostly on the countertop, one on my inner thigh.

“I need to see you come like this,” he muttered, almost to
himself. “I’ll be able to see all the contractions, every move you make… But
not this time. This time, I’m going to be in you.”

He pulled my knee abruptly to the side, spreading my thighs
even wider, and leaned over to tongue my clit, which was also butterflied by
the monstrous tube up my pussy. The sensation was too much for me and I
screamed. He stopped and looked up at me, his lips shiny with my juices.

“It’s time for you to get fucked.”

Oh God, the way he said it! My eyes rolled back and closed.
It was all too much and I doubted that I’d survive much more.

My eyes flew open again a few moments later as I felt him
release my wrists from the cable that he had secured them with.

He had rolled a condom onto his cock and had pushed his
trousers down to mid-thigh. I had a fleeting impression of his muscular ass as
he turned slightly and then he was standing between my feet again, pulling me
down the counter until my ass was at the very edge.

He started to pull the tube out of me, very, very slowly,
and the sensation of it exiting my body was, if possible, even more intense
than when he had pressed it into me. He removed it and held it up briefly, so
that I could see it was dripping with my wetness, before tossing it aside. Then
he positioned himself at my entrance and wrapped my legs around his waist.

It was my vision from earlier in the evening. His body was
so big and wide that my legs were forced open, almost beyond discomfort, just
to accommodate him there. There was just nothing easy about him, I thought with
a jolt of wry amusement.

He frowned at me, clearly not happy that I should be smiling
at this exact moment, and then I suddenly wasn’t smiling at all as he began to
enter me.

After all the cold test tubes that he had used on me, he
felt almost insanely hot, and he was huge and thick. Despite having been so
stretched, my inner walls began to burn again as he pushed his way in. After
every tiny advancement he withdrew and used his fingers to coat himself with my
juices at the point of our junction, at the same time rubbing at my clit,
keeping me on the brink of orgasm. I grasped ineffectively at the countertop as
he slowly split me in two.

“Does it hurt?” he rasped.

I moaned and nodded.

“That’s good.” His voice was a growl of satisfaction. “I like
that. I’m taking you, I’m making you mine. I’m branding you, so that you know
you belong to me. It should hurt.”

As he spoke he drove the last couple of inches into me and
stopped abruptly, butting up against the entrance to my womb, filling me to the
absolute.

“You can come now,” he growled and circled his thumb over my
clit, mercilessly driving me over the edge.

The orgasm that had been withheld for so long exploded in me
like a supernova, racking my body in spasms of painful intensity. I couldn’t breathe,
I couldn’t move, and he pounded into me just as he had wanted to, each stroke
prolonging the pain and the pleasure, forcing another helpless contraction of
my muscles around his cock. I was distantly aware of him lifting my feet onto
his shoulders and forcing my knees back, so that I was displayed to him as he
fucked me to the edge of reason.

He joined me in my orgasm with an almost inhuman shout, back
arching, helpless to resist the spasms that racked my cunt. I could feel the
hot spurts of his semen even through the condom as he pumped out everything he
had.

At last he collapsed forward onto me, leaning over me on the
counter, his head resting on my lower belly, our breathing harsh and strained.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to get our
breathing back under control, and when he straightened and pulled away from me
I felt a chill where his head had rested. He carefully closed my lab coat,
crossing it over in front of me, then using the coattails to wipe me clean,
quite tenderly, between my legs.

“Unfortunately this is neither your place nor mine,” he said
quietly, zipping himself up again. “We’ll have to go back to the party and say
our goodbyes. Then you can come home with me.”

I battled to get upright so that I was sitting on the edge of
the counter, and he was still standing between my legs. He kissed me gently and
deeply, smoothing my hair out of my face. He tasted wonderful and I was
surprised to realize that I wanted another orgasm with him.

“I can’t just go home with you,” I said in horror. “I forgot
all about Justin! He’ll be wondering what the hell happened to me!”

“Well, it wasn’t actually hell, was it?” He smiled into my
eyes, his heart-stoppingly handsome face mere centimeters from mine.

I shook my head. There was no point in trying to lie. He
knew how much I had enjoyed it and how hard I’d come.

“Justin’s fine,” he said with a short laugh. “I told him
that you would be going home with me, and he was thrilled, by the way. Besides,
when I left the party to come after you, he was already in a lock with a
redhead on the dance floor. From the way they were carrying on, I wouldn’t be
surprised if he’s gone back to her place.”

I smiled. That was typical Justin—easy-looking, easygoing,
easy, easy, easy. We seldom left parties together, even if we’d arrived
together. Only I was always the one who took a taxi home.

Simon handed me my little bundle of stockings and panties
from his pocket.

“I’d like to keep these,” he joked, “but you’re going to
need them. You can give them back to me later. Your clothes are on that desk
over there. Toss me the lab coat when you take it off.”

He lifted me off the counter.

“Ready to stand on your own?”

I tested my quivering legs and nodded. I dressed quickly and
passed him the lab coat. I looked over to see him wrapping the test tubes that
we had used into a bundle in the lab coat.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking all this with us,” he answered, glancing at me.

I was shocked. “But that’s stealing!”

“Well, I can’t leave them here like this,” he said
impatiently, gesturing at the messy collection, “and we’re not hanging around
to wash them up. Besides, we can’t do much to clean the coat, and it’s all wet
from you.”

I flushed at the reminder of how out of control I’d been,
and bent to retrieve my purse from the floor so that he couldn’t see my face.

“Besides,” he glanced slyly at me, “I definitely intend to
do that to you again. With variations. Lots of interesting variations. I owe
you a punishment for talking when you weren’t allowed to, remember?”

He deliberately misunderstood the look on my face. “Oh if it
bothers you that much, I’ll make a donation to the school. A very large
donation. I’ll tell them it’s to upgrade their science facilities!”

“That’s not what I was going to say, and you know it!”

He faced me squarely. “Okay, let’s have it then.”

“You’re talking about us in the future tense, Simon,” I
said, meeting his gaze head-on. “What exactly do you see happening after this?
It was totally unexpected for me, but you don’t seem so surprised. What do you
actually want?”

He took me by the arm and led me to the door then turned to
face me again. I felt a frisson of nervousness run through me as I waited for
him to answer, which surprised me. I cared about his answer. I was utterly
confused but through all my inner turmoil I had a sudden sense of hope, of
potential, and I wanted…time. Time with him.

“Samantha, baby, you don’t understand. I wanted you all
through high school. I’ve waited another ten years on top of that, watching,
planning. I’m a man who gets what he wants, and when it comes to you, I want
the whole deal.”

With that, he took my hand, clicked off the lights and led
me down the corridor.

JB Brooks is a freelance author, with a background in
business writing. She began writing as a child, and went on to graduate cum
laude in English and Psychology. Thereafter, she survived twenty years in the
IT Industry, from which she finally escaped, allowing her to indulge in her
true passion - creating unusual erotic encounters for her imaginary friends.
She loves to write anytime, anywhere, and could not survive without the
techno-gadgets that make this possible.

Brooks strives to make extraordinary and adventurous passion
a daily delight for her readers.

An ex-South African, Brooks lives in Queensland, Australia's
sunshine coast, with her husband, daughter, parents and grandmother, and feels
privileged to coexist in (relative) peace with her extended family.

JB welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website
and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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Reunion Submission

ISBN 9781419946882

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Reunion Submission Copyright © 2013 JB Brooks

Edited by Beverly Horne

Cover design by Syneca

Cover photography by Vishstudio/Shutterstock.com

Electronic book publication July 2013

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