A Fire in Your Eyes

by

Kim Mitchell

Smashwords

2012

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Copyright © 2012 Hard Case Dyke, LLC

All rights reserved

Cover by DarkTraces, used by permission.

Here I am, in medias res as they say: sitting in my car, parked half a block from your house. Watch your guests arrive, all these women, beautiful women. The bridal shower; that necessary ritual for the-about-to-get-married. Try to calm myself. Know this is hopeless. The night so long dreamed and hoped for has finally arrived. My arrival: a surprise for you, ma’am. Heart pounding, unsure of your reaction and my ability to dampen and conceal my desire for you.
Inner voice: ‘Just say hello. Act normal. Smile at everyone. No one will know. Maybe a touch will pass between us. Casual, as you greet all your friends. Don't stay long. Perhaps a whispered endearment. Then go.’ Yes, I can do this. Open the car door. Sounds from the house muted, my footsteps crushing the gravel.  Crunch, crunch, crunch: the sounds makes me think of eating your pussy. That is funny. Why? I hold in a laugh.
Another guest has arrived and follows me up the walk. I turn and smile and she smiles back: we both belong here. We both crunch the gravel.
Door opens and I'm met with a smile by a smiling woman. She looks at me, realizes we've never met before, welcomes me in along with Penny or Paula, whatever her name is: the woman behind me. I'm inside and she's taking my coat. Clasp the bottle tightly and keep it. Want to give it to you, no one else, so you know it came from me.
Women talking. Feel their eyes on me. Before they can ask questions, I hear your voice:
‘Yo, Penny, and who is this fine...?’ 
Our eyes meet and I see the fire of emotions in your pupils. The shock on your face, replaced at once with the most wonderful smile I remember so well.
‘Kelly? Kelly, is it really you? I wasn't expecting you!’
Tongue: glued to the roof of my mouth.
You take my hand, fingers tight and I squeeze. Relieved, delirious that you are welcoming me and so delighted to see me. You're talking to the women but I don't hear the words, lost in my gaze: your body, your hair, your mouth.
See your eyes move down and your spell over me is broken. I lift up the bottle and present it to you. Your favorite, Cabernet: 2001. 
Voice thick and husky, ‘Lauren, you're so beautiful, you’re…’

Don't finish.

You pull my body toward your body. Hand sweaty as you take me through the crowd. Women turn as we pass, looks and inquiries ignored as we move through their bodies. Faces a blur, one or two a catch for a second. Long enough for them to register. So many guests and yet we ignore them all. Or, you ignore them. I'm oblivious in your wake. 
We reach the stairs; you lead me up; at the top, you stop and we turn to look back. Some have taken little notice of our destination; others stare and know.
You take me from room to room, displaying me. 
I am so proud standing at your side, hands locked. Hot courses of electricity dancing in my body; from head to toe but concentrated in my loins, liquid and hot, my panties failing to contain it.
You say, ‘They now see that my bitch is here. See how jealous they are of me! Of my gift, that you are and that I will take now.’
You pull me again. In a rush: we are in your bedroom and I am in your arms. I kiss you with a hunger I cannot give words to. I know your equal desire too well. You press me up against the closed door, crushing me in your need. Your lips so much more luscious; mouth sweeter than I remembered.
Hook a leg around yours. Bare legs touching. Sucking on your tongue, I feel you lift me and carry me across to your bed. You lay them down and stand back to look at me. Now given a chance, I gaze and take you in. Seeing your fingers working, removing clothes. 
‘What are you waiting for?’ you say, and command: ‘Get undressed! I will whip you later for surprising me like this. First I need to fuck. Even though they will all know...because they will all know...my need to fuck you can't be withheld.’
My shoes hit the floor before you finish and my top is over my head a moment later. I had risked no undies and now glad I did this. Tear at the clasp and zipper on my skirt, working it off my hips half-undone. Pull down the comforter and covers, knowing they will be ruined otherwise. Now on the soft coolness of your sheets, I await.
You: on the bed, kneeling before me. I know what you want and I sit up and kiss your belly. Arms around waist. Touch and taste being the foremost, but also listening to you tell me that I better be a good slut and please you. Seeing with unbelieving eyes that you have me in your bed. Smelling your pussy, knowing that soon I will be enjoying it.
Tongue traces through your curly short pubes. Wetting them with my saliva so that they clump together. My mouth finds your clit. Taking hold, sucking it. Hands holding your ass so I can suck properly. You don't wait. Hands gripping my head. Your hips move. Fucking my mouth with it. Motions hard, almost violent. 
‘Come on bitch! You can do better than that!’ 
If not for your hands holding me, I would have been knocked flat on my back from the force of your thrusts. Clit moving between my lips. I use my lips to assist you, tight but not too tight. You can move it in between them and I feel it increasing your lust. My tongue lashes at the tip each time you drive forward.
You: a handful of hair in your fist and yank my head back. Your knees spread and straddling me. You force my face into your pussy. Grinding hard on me as I try to get my tongue into you. I can taste you but its more from your wetting my entire face than from my tongue being able to pleasure you. Once again hands at the back of my head holding me as you rub up and down, back and forth. 
A pause in your actions that allows me to work my tongue in. Savoring the taste of your pussy, my life complete now that my mouth is full of your juice.

Your fingers weaving through my hair, soothing, gentle. You pull back from me and slide down beside me. We share a kiss. I wonder at your change, knowing that your orgasms were small, not complete. 
You leave me and return with two glasses of wine. I see the bottle: the winery, cabernet, 2001...my bottle...now opened and poured.
Toast and sip. Your eyes telling me that you're far from done with me. You take the glass from my hand and place it on the nightstand. Another long, deep kiss. Then another, and another. I could kiss you forever and that this alone fills that empty thing inside.

A long finger inside me. Gasping into your mouth. You finger-fuck my pussy. Hips moving with it. The touch magic. The pressure of the base of your fingers on my clit and I try to rub on you.
‘My baby bitch needs fucking, doesn't she?’
‘Please, ma’am, whatever you desire,’ is my answer.
‘You’ll be made all right. I will fuck you until you pass out in my arms.’
Whimper, holding you tight. Groaning, feel your hand and finger leave me.
You roll on me, our legs entwined. Taking a leg, you lift it up and use it to settle yourself. Our pussies kissing, wetness combining, mingling. You hold my leg between your breasts and use it for leverage. Grinding down. Push my hips up. Giving my pussy to you, always you. And you're inside me. My wetness allowing you easy and ready access. Your clit moves along my pussy lips, thrusts in like a cock.
‘That's what I like to hear,’ you say. ‘My fuck toy makes such lovely sounds. Tell me you love to be fucked.’
Know the words you like to hear: ‘Please fuck me, ma’am. I love how you fuck me. I'm your whore. Your fucking whore. YOUR BITCH!’
Grasp your hips and leg. Here’s my pussy, giving it to you to fuck. Wanting, needing you to fuck it. One arm remains wrapped around my leg, holding it tight to your chest. The other reaches out and rips at my hair.
‘You are my bitch! And I will bitch fuck you! And beat you! And piss on you! Then bitch fuck you again!’
The bed: protesting under us.
I cry out again, the wet heat of your love along with the rapid continued pounding of your pussy with mine having again brought me to orgasm. Only the tug of your hand at my hair keeps me from falling.
You release me. Eyes opening to see you rise up. Bending over to kiss me softly.
‘Stay here. I'll be back after my guests leave. Then I will really fuck you and not hold back.’

Curling up in your bed sheets. Listen to the sounds of the wedding shower party wind down. Can hear your laughter and voice.

Eyes closed. Sleep. Happy.

***

.
Wake in the dark to new sounds. The bed shaking. My eyes rapidly adjusting to the dim light, I make out soft moans and grunts, bits of conversation. The sound of fucking. 
See you at the foot of the bed. Hands on the footboard, bracing. Behind you, I make out another form. Don? Both of you are looking at me.

‘This is so hot.’
‘Want to fuck her?’
‘She's awake.’
‘Yes, she is. And she sees us now. Sees you fucking me.’
I can't take my eyes off you with him.
‘She's young.’
‘Yes, she is. In her twenties. Loves to fuck.’
The rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh.
‘Are you...?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Remember what I told you!’
‘I do, ma’am.’
A rush—he moves away from your body. I can make out the shape of his cock in his hand as his body makes its way to my body. Thick and clutched in his fist. A shaft of moon light catches him just as he stands next to me. I can see it. Red, wet, throbbing, all those things you call a cock.
The first rope of his semen shoots out and hits me square across the face: raised line from right cheek, across my lips and down my chin. The trailing end falls on my neck and left breast. Another follows and, knowing you are looking...expecting...I open my mouth for it. It is another long strand; salty goo fills my mouth. A third spurt, less volume, lands on my breasts. His hand pumping the last out smaller, thinner spurts. Drops. Dew drops of baby batter. Some reaches me; some only finds the bed.
I feel your hand from the far side of the bed. Pushing my head forward. The cock nearing, then inside my mouth.
‘Suck him. I want him hard again.’
I close my eyes and comply.

‘Ask for it.’

Me: ‘Please, ma’am, may I suck his dick?’

You: ‘Of course, bitch.’
Your hand grips my hair, holding me in place. My hands flat on the bed, body twisted at the waist, I am bent forward and it is awkward but I make my way towards him. 
The cock fills my mouth. Use my tongue to feel it. Swallowing a mouthful of jizz while I start to suck him. A flash of pleasure knowing that I am sharing with you in a way I would never. Eating him as you have done before. Enjoying a man when I detest men. All for you and your pleasure, ma’am.
Lips stretch, move along his length. Slightly sticky with your juice and the sperm that was in my mouth. Soon I will have him clean. Work at it diligently, helped by your hand as it pulls my face around, back and forth. 
Feel him hardening. Let his cock out of my mouth. Lick along the entire shaft. There is more gooey sticky wetness at his balls, in the crack of his ass.

He has other ideas, or are they yours? He takes hold of his cock and uses it to smear the baby batter on my face, painting me with it. Feel your weight on the bed behind me, then your second hand on my chin. Open my jaw, ma’am: the cock passes into my mouth as he spreads his semen. 
You: pressing against my back now. Feel your breath as your face is close for a good look. Soft breast against my side. Hard nipple offering encouragement in its center.
My tongue: sticking it out and licking at the cock each time it comes near. Tasting the goo that clings to the shaft, the rest starting to dry. The combined tackiness pulling at my flesh each time he drags it across my cheeks and chin. 
Back to complete hardness. Look up at him. Still unable to make his features out but trying in the darkness of the room. Your hands holding my head. He pushes the cock back into my mouth. Face fuck me. Suck. Each pus a little deeper. He wants to bury it all in me. 
‘That's my bitch, show him what a good cocksucker you are. Look how hard you got him so quickly.’
Your words: hot in my ear. Making me crazy with lust and sin, I suck him harder. Opening my throat as best I can in this position.
A pop—in medias res, he pulls back and out. His wet length flush along my face, shifting: his hairy sac at my mouth. My tongue darts out, measuring, weighting. Rewarded with another taste of you along his musk and sweat.
You: rising up and rising down. Sandwiched between the two of you. Locked, as you and he kiss. The cock throbbing on my face.
Time. Unable to move. Limited to giving his balls little kisses and licks.

Yank: hair clenched in your hand, I fall back. Your bodies move forward.
‘He better be clean!’

Words sizzling my ear.

You lean over me, taking the cock into your mouth. Watch, excited, seeing his full length disappearing in your mouth. You can do what I cannot: deep throat, You know men better than I do, always have. He grunts. You deep throat him again and again. Heavy breasts swinging above me. Reach up to caress them.
Fingers at my pussy; exploring; pushing. A moan as it works my hot wet depths. My hips moving, needing and wanting. Added pressure as a second hand joins the first. Thicker fingers, one forcefully entering alongside yours. Feet flat on the bed, lifting my hips. Fingers sliding in and out. Sometimes together, sometimes taking turns. Both soaked with my juice which is flowing heavily, running out and down to my ass. Then a finger is in my ass. Is it yours? I hope it is. Two fingers in my ass: both of you. Fingers everywhere. A universe of fingers that finger-rape. I am finger-fucked happy.
Bodies moving again. Hair still wrapped in your hand. Pulled to meet your wishes. Both of us on the bed and next to each other. Face at your hip. Watch again as he moves between your legs.

Your free hand guides him into you.

I smell and watch your sex. Him: driving deep and fast, excitement on his face. You lift your legs up so I can see better. Transfixed by the sight. The cock exiting wet and slick and oh so hard. 

Watch. I watch. You want me to see: you want me to know.
Your hand: jerks my head to the bed. He pulls out and turns. Him: extended over your leg. Wavering in the air. Red, wet, shiny. I start to move; your hand pulls me. Taking it in my mouth again. Sucking it. Tasting your fresh juice again; he fucks my mouth again.
Three minutes, more. Clean it, he moves it back to you. Fucking you faster and harder, pulling back out and allowing me to repeat my cleaning job. Repeat this several times. His need to reach orgasm muted.
He: fucking you for your pleasure now. Nearing it, your hand releases me and I'm free to move and help in other ways. 
He's pulled your legs up to your chest, holding them under his arms. He pounds you. Your face clear. Move up and kiss you. Thanking you. Our kiss long and deep. Holding and caressing your face as I kiss you.
‘Show him what a good bitch you are.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’
Move down again, behind both of you. Sliding under, my tongue meets the cock. It exits your pussy. Licking at it, the balls. Then as where it joins with you. Sucking, licking. My finger finds your asshole. Slick with your wetness and moves easily over it.
Directly behind him now. Both hands spreading his ass, trying not to impede his movements. Tongue finds his ass and I lick. Showing him just how good of a bitch I am for you. Probing him.
‘She's—her—tongue—my ass—wow.’
Hear you gasp and know that has pushed you over. Your final moments together, hard and violent.
He: falls back, rolls to the side.
You: panting before me.
‘Now clean me, bitch.’

I did not need the order. It was my intention to suck you clean. 
Kiss my way up your right leg. Little butterfly kisses with a quick touch of the tip of my tongue every few inches or so. Your body hot, damp with sweat, salty. Tongue tingling. I reach your sex.
Your lips pulled out, long and distended. Your odor intoxicating, strong. Wetness covers your pussy and the lower region of your bush. The sperm leaking out of you.
You raise up your hips, allowing me easy access. Lick again and again. Keeping my tongue flat to clean your folds. Each journey ending in the soft curly fur. Your clit, hard and long, peeks at me. My movement ensures that my tongue travels over it each time. Knowing that it is not what you like best but wanting to delay that for now.
Feeling your digits weave along my scalp, a gentle pressure that guides my mouth back to your wet center. I slide my tongue into you now. Continue to suck you clean. Forcing my tongue to its extremity inside you, wanting all that you have but finding less and less salty goo. Thinking that it is almost time.
‘You can do it now.’
Pull my face back and up. Smiling. Your eyes flash: you see the shine covering my face. I keep my focus on your eyes, open mouth finding your clit at the same time. 
Lips surround it. With an increasing suction, I suck on it. So long and hard. Engorged with blood and lust. I make a sound of contentment as I settle my mouth on it. Moving my head up and down, the way you like it. Sucked on like a cock. My lips gripping it, tongue caressing it.
You never fail to drive my wantonness to a higher level and I start to vocalize as I pleasure your pleasureland. Loud humming sounds, knowing the vibrations will send you little shivers as they pass from my lips to your clit. Sucking loud, wet. My mouth releasing so I can talk dirty:

‘Please feed me your big girl-cock.’
‘It’s so hard and throbbing in my mouth.’
‘Please fuck my face with it. You know how I love when you do that.’
Rub my face from side to side over you wetness. Feeling the raised finger of your womanhood on my cheeks.
‘Does he know how you fuck me with this?’
‘Stabbing at my clit with it.’
‘How I scream out your name when I come.’
Hair is almost ripped out in clumps. You position my mouth where you want it. Your hips pumping up and down. A command: ‘Suck me now!’ Fucking my mouth with your clit.  Thrusting up, over and over. Hips raising me up, hands pulling me down. Face-fucking your bitch, using her mouth for your sins. My mind swimming in the knowledge that I am your bitch, I receive your sinful desire.
Then: in medias res—on my back, you above me. 
See: your head thrown back, breasts swinging. You grind down on my face. Rolling your hips. Just as I think you might smother me, I'm flooded with wetness. Washing over and into my mouth. Your body shaking on me. Strong, one after another. Each subsequent wave tapers off until you come to a stop. Your weight leaves me and returns by the length of my body. Covering mine with yours. Our bodies. Nuzzle my nose into your hair. Listening to your breathing slowing, calming, returning to normal. Kiss your head. Hold tight. Our bodies.
My heart: it is pounding but nowhere near the pace that yours: yours is running. Our bodies relaxing, merging. Fitting together. Complete. One. Us. We. You, me.
You: asleep in my arms. Kiss you tenderly, join you in rest.

Your body: it shifts and I roll, following your movement, trying to remain in your warmth. Not awake, half conscious, eyelids crack open, see you looking into my face. Eyes close again, a smile.
You push me onto my back. I lay among the pillows and covers. Still not ready to leave the comfort of your body, one arm slides under your side just as you start to move over me.

***

It is bright in the room. What happened to time?

You hover over me and go: ‘Good morning, sunshine.’

I want more sleep. But it doesn’t matter what I want.
Your hand: cuts across my face. Slapping hard. The force turns my head sideways.
Awake now. Look back up towards you but, before I can speak or see your face, your hand returns. Swift, ambushing; turning my face back into the pillow; fingers stinging along the flesh of my left cheek where your hand has struck.
The weight of your body, heavy, and you reach for one arm, then the other. Shoving them down along my sides where you trap them with your thighs and knees. Immobile now. See: the firmness in your face. Your gaze: down at me. You hold me like this, your face without emotion for the longest minute in the brightest morning of the earth.
Deliberate slowness: your left arm moves back. Me: fascinated by the way your body moves. The muscles of your upper arm flex, your left breast lifts, your palm, open and flat.
‘Bitch!’
A handful of hair yanked and pulled and twisted: you spit the word out.
Hair anchored in your fist, you pin my head. Your body leaning over and tilted to the side.. The other arm rising and falling: you continue to slap my face. Sharp claps of pain along with increasing heat as I feel my face reddening from the blows.
Both of your hands ripping at my hair, bouncing my head up and down on the bed.
‘What the fuck---did you think--you're doing--coming here—unannounced?!?’
‘Sucking—my soon-to-be-hsuand’s—cock...and his ass....’

‘Where the hell have you been?!’

:’…missed you so much…hurt…hurts…’

‘You bitch, why are you back?!?’
Your hands: they toss my head free and you reach down and twist both my nipples. Nipples that are rock hard. A fact that did not escape you. You continue to twist and pull them, a wicked grin now on your face.
‘Are you wet?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’

My pussy: soaked.
A hand flies across my face again.
‘Will this make you squirt?’
Eyes wide, focused on your hand clenched into a fist. Thinking that you will hit me, really hit me, with closed fist.
You say no. Open your hand and angle your torso down closer to me. Your face: inches from mine.

‘But I will whip you; beat you some more. Make it crystal clear that you are my bitch! Now and forever; no matter what. And you will never, ever leave again.’
Your hips: rotating, undulating back and forth. Feel the heat and wetness of you. You positioned pussy to pussy with me.
Hands beside my head, rubbing me. Offering my pussy to you and you take it, using it to pleasure your land of pleasure.
‘I need to fuck you again. Beating my bitch always gets me hot.’
The pillow behind my head: you tear it away, force it under my ass. Keeping my pelvis up for you.
My mound slick with you as you rub yourself harder and faster on my body. Grind along with you. Pushing upwards and moving in the opposite direction.
A fire: in your eyes—in medias res, you watch me under you.

‘Come on bitch, you can fuck better than that! Remind me why I like fucking you, why I should continue to fuck you. Why I should keep you after I marry a cock. Give me that pussy...’
I bring my pussy up. Thrusting it out so that you can work your clit against mine. The friction of your pubic hair against my shaved nakedness. You thrust forward. Long minutes of controlled violence. Your grip on my breasts hurts and hurts good. You: relentless, pain-giver. Want to wrap my legs around you, scissor with you. The twinkle in your eyes tells me you are aware of my wanton need. You: taking much pleasure knowing my wants are denied.

‘This fuck is all about me.’

‘I am the bride.’

‘I make the decisions around here.’

You are the decider, ma’am.
I know that I am yelling but I don't know what or how loud. You fall forward: hooking your arms around my shoulders. Your teeth closing in the soft flesh of my shoulder…

***

I am your maid of honor. Your wedding. Watch you become one with Don. ‘Mrs. Elliott.’ How odd. Lauren Elliott now. Lauren Silver is gone. I remember our night together, and the nights that will come, as you say the words of fidelity. The cock. Your pussy. The honeymoon. The juices. The smells. One of the bridesmaids smiles at me—in medias res—this wedding of ours—and I see it in her eyes: they are my eyes, the eyes I once had, eyes I may still have, hope that I have. I know this girl is yours as I am yours.

Don sees this.

We all belong to you; we’re all marrying you today.