Mop N Bucket

"Your Angry Mocha, Miss," he said, smiling, as he sat the hot coffee down by my open laptop as I settled into another day of photo editing.

"But I hadn't even ordered yet?" I said, fumbling in my purse for cash.

He waived the money away. "On the house tonight. And I always know what you want. Trust me." He peered down at me, unconsciously flexing his jaw with a tight, confident smile that said "I'll tell you what you want, and you'll want it." I became weak. He held my gaze a few seconds too long. But he was right; I wanted anything he would give me, including uncomfortably long stares. My armpits dampened as I straightened my glasses and smoothed my long hair, shyly smiling back.

"Whatcha workin' on today?" He peeked at my laptop and found Ashton, the brunette longhair with olive skin, a built body, and vaguely Indian features staring back at him. "Ooh, he's fit for a romance novel! Your lighting really makes his abs pop. Great shot, Christy. You certainly have an eye for the male physique," he said, without a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Thank you! Maybe one day I'll have my way with you before my lens?" I shot back.

"Only if you let me have my way with you first?"

Man, he's quick! I just laughed and blushed. If only he were single!

"I hope you'll stay 'till closing tonight," he said. "There's something I want to show you."

With a cunning grin, he turned and greeted the new customer who just walked in, cooing over the toddler holding her hand. It's incredible how fast he can switch gears.

Suffice it to say, it was a very long three hours that followed.

What could he want to show me? A new song he wrote? A new drink he made? I stewed in my seat as I pushed pixels around aimlessly, the fabric of my panties dampening more with each passing hour. 5:30pm couldn't come fast enough!

He's staring at me; I can feel it. We're alone now, it's safe to look.

My body tensed as he held my stare silently, and a shy smile crept upon my lips. A swift jerk of his head toward the bathroom door and he returned to his tasks.

Should I go in there?

At this signal, I slowly rose from my chair across the room. The air was potent as I passed by him while he finished chores behind the counter. My body felt his carnivorous gaze, first on my hips, then on my ass cheeks bouncing in my skin-tight jeans.

Not a word was spoken.

Entering the bathroom, my heart palpitated as I pushed the door closed with my back. I shook. An electric surge bore through my body, preparing it for action.

Oh my god.... is this really happening? I gathered myself in the corner and waited, breathless.

From beyond the door, clanking noises came. Keys jangling, the front door's lock clicked; the sound of freedom.

I heard chairs being pushed in. Grasping at each sound while I waited, my blood boiled. I became moist. From my first visit to this little shop, I'd had visions of something like this happening. And here we were.

The door handle turned. As he slowly opened the door, all I could focus on were his icy blue eyes peering behind blond locks, holding my stare as his presence filled the bathroom.

The door locked behind him. Click! The sound of freedom.

The pounding in my chest felt heavier than in my fantasies, the dreams I'd had over the past months of this very moment coming to pass. It all felt surreal. Had he read my mind? He'd said before 'I'm very good at reading people,' but he'd also said 'I'm not a good guy.'

The five feet between my corner and him at the door felt like five millimeters; his psychic energy penetrated me.

That stare. Those eyes! That smile.

A smile that knew every dark secret you'd dare tell, but especially the ones you wouldn't. Connection like this doesn't happen every day, the electricity that fires between two people who have something to share.

While inching toward me, his boots tapped the tile with each deliberate step as he held my gaze silently.

He stood before me.

My throat tightened. Breath froze. I shook with anticipation.

Placing his hands on the wall behind me, he cornered me and commanded every cell in my being to absorb him. His earthy scent of coffee and masculine pheromones intoxicated me.

I closed my eyes. Then I felt him. His hot breath on my neck, lower lip grazing my skin.

Wetness.

I seethed under his presence, overwhelmed with desire and naked fear of the unknown.

I trembled.

Teeth!

Brushing my hair away from my neck, he nuzzled into me and pecked at my skin with his teeth. I shuddered and sighed from the stimulation as he deeply groaned right into my ear.

My chest heaved as I drew the first deep breath I could take and a desperate, soft sigh escaped on the exhale.

He came closer.

His chest met mine while his hips hovered only an inch from my wetness. He withdrew his hands from the wall and began running his nails down my back, kissing and biting my neck the whole time.

My mind raced. 'What about his girlfriend? Will he tell her? I've never been that girl before. If I see her again, will she know? Will it be written all over my face? What are my friends gonna think? Do I tell them? How could I not? Ok, first things first.'

"Did you ask Kay about opening your relationship?" I panted, my mind fragmenting into factions; the side that wanted him with every atom of my being and the side that knew the consequences could be dire.

He pressed his palm over my mouth and shushed me while continuing to devour my skin.

I couldn't get her face out of my mind. Her innocent, cherubic expressions when she looked at him, and how that face would contort into something unrecognizable when she found out what we'd done. Because I knew somehow she would. I didn't know when or how, but even as I succumbed to my hedonistic lust, I knew I was tempting fate. More than tempting it, I was handing it the keys to my submission.

Quickly these worries faded as his thighs pressed me into the wall, and his breath got deeper and hotter in my ear.

"You don't even wanna know the filthy things I've thought about you, all day at work here, since you first came in," he said in a deep, whispered hiss through his teeth, a growing aggression stained his words.

"How many nights I closed up shop and imagined ripping you from that chair, throwing you down on all fours, and pounding the fucking tears outta you!"

His words came faster, between breaths, as his hands grasped their way under my shirt, under my bra, cupping my breasts and squeezing roughly.

Now his hips lunged into me. I could feel his length through his jeans.

At this point, I surrendered all power. It was finally time to get my wish, right or wrong. It's what my heart desired and my body craved. All reservation leaked out into a hot puddle in my panties of juice I simply couldn't hold back anymore.

I tore at his shirt, at his skin with my nails, and gave him back every bite he gave. We intertwined there in the corner, grasping fist fulls of hair and pulling, gripping flesh, sighing and moaning.

At once, he pulled away and just stared at me. A wave of animal lust washed over us, drowning out the months we'd spent stifling our attraction, denying the smoking hot embers just beneath the surface of our chit chat. The acknowledgment of lust always feels like ripping the bandage from a healing wound, leaving the weak flesh exposed, vulnerable to predatory attack.

With that he closed the gap, and our lips met for the first time, so wet with desire; puzzle pieces that finally met their match. In no time our tongues danced deeply to their own rhythm, swirling and dipping into our rich pools of hidden lust.

Just when I was lulled into his trance, he ripped me from the wall and forcibly pushed me onto my back on the cold, grimy floor of his bathroom.

Ever since I first set foot in here, I imagined this being 'our spot.' Bathrooms, little holes of privacy amidst the public. A place to both catch your breath... or lose it.

He paused, hovering over me, his hair dragging across my forehead. "You know, I meant it when I said I'm not a good guy."

"I know. I just wish you'd been a bad guy sooner. Think of all the fun we could've had." My mind burned with guilt at saying it, but it was true.

With that, he tore my shirt off, threw my bra in the corner and started in on my jeans, grasping with violent eagerness at any button he could find.

"Fuck, you're already soaked!"

"Get your mop and bucket," I said, snickering.

The cold, wet jeans slipped off my bare legs with a few rough tugs and with a quickness, his shirt came off.

That's when I saw them, the marks.

All across his chest were what appeared to be tiny pinpricks in rows, like red ants marching across his pecs. The rows weren't orderly, but seemed haphazard, even frantic. Gently, I traced my index finger along the healing wounds. His face clouded over.

"Wartenburg wheel, a few days ago," he whispered, searching my eyes for understanding.

I nodded. I'd seen them online and knew what they did, but never felt the pricks myself.

"Did you do it or someone else?"

"Oh, just me. Most of what I do, I do alone. But, if you don't mind, I'd be rather be tasting your skin than talking about mine right now." A faint smile curled my lips and my eyes invited him to continue.

He came back down on me and bore his jeans-clad hips into my softness, getting my scent and juice all over them.

"Mmm... god, you smell so good," he said, mumbling into my neck while devouring my skin in wet, eager kisses. I soaked his jeans with spurts of my juice until he couldn't stand it anymore. The wet denim felt almost soft rubbing against my clit.

Finally, as if a reward for such long denial, I reached my hand down to unbutton his jeans. Slipping my fingers inside I felt his hot, wet, mushroom shaped head and thick shaft swollen tightly to serve me. Greedily, I released him from clothing so I could stroke his length. His balls, heavy and ready for release, felt so good cupped in my palm.

We writhed together on the floor, our moans giving off the faintest hollow sound bouncing around the empty walls of the bathroom.

Quickly, our eagerness bled into NEED. That desperate longing I'd felt all this time, about to be violently abolished.

Just then, Jesse grabbed his cock and stabbed it hard into my soaking wet gash!

In one swift stroke, he went balls deep in me, which sent a gasping cry from my lips as my nails dug into the nape of his neck.

Pressed together, I lost my breath under his forceful weight as he bored into me, fucking me so violently before I knew it, my head hit the back wall as we slid around on my juices. So grimy, just absolutely filthy that floor was, and briefly I felt a sting of shame. I'd finally sunk this low, to being one who couldn't hold back her primal, womanly urges. Who had to get fucked rough on a cold, disgusting bathroom floor by a new stud who had a gorgeous girl at home waiting for him. I was just a ball of hormones and a dripping snatch, desperate to be slammed by a thick, white cock. That's all I was at that moment. That's all I cared to be.

It was simple. Raw. Instinctual.

And most of all, the truth laid bare.

Our skin slapped the wet tiles. Beads of sweat fell onto my face. We devoured each other with our tongues, gripping tightly and sending each groan and growl into the air without inhibition.

"I'll always think of this when I'm alone," I whispered into his ear.

"Me too. You'll be my dirty little secret," he said. Those words were hard to take, but I had to admit, they set my blood on fire with lust. Just this once, maybe I could bend the rules. Not without penalty, but I hoped I could afford the cost. Only time would tell.

The relentless pounding was making me sore, a pain that felt just as good as bad. With no intention of letting up, he supported all his weight on his hands and got back to inspect my face tinged with the pleasure of pain.

"I knew you'd love this... And this, you filthy bitch!"

SLAP!

His thick palm stung my cheek and jaw in a hard slap that echoed in the room.

"Ahhh! Ow!" He totally just went there!

Ok. Game on.

As if it wasn't hard enough already, he picked up the pace and nearly bounced my tailbone off the floor with the force of his thrusts. I dug my nails into him wherever I could to get a good grip.

Just then, he grabbed my shoulders and ripped me off the floor, throwing me onto all fours. I had to brace myself against the wall with one hand to avoid a cracked skull.

"Come here, you dirty fuckin' cunt. Don't you wriggle away from me!" Slam! He thrust in so hard I gasped and nearly hit the wall.

"Ugh! It's hurting!"

"I... don't... give... a fuck! YOU came to me, remember, you slutty little bitch. YOU wanted this. You. Will. Sub. mit. To. Me" he groaned, "Until. I'm. Done," he said with each thrust, "Shut the fuck up, and take it, you nasty whore! God, you're such a fucking filthy cunt!"

That stung. I peered over my shoulder at him. He grabbed all my hair at the nape of my neck in one fist and YANKED it.

I screamed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of something bright pink, but without my glasses I couldn't make out what it was. The blob was on the floor. What's that? I thought.

He came down to where his lips hovered right at my ear, fucking me slowly, deliberately.

"You can't just let things be, can you? You gotta ride that edge, don't you?"

He was right. He was very good at reading people. Even me, a stone cut in facets that confuse and mystify many who behold it, even up close.

He knew. Maybe he was the same? At any rate, he knew how to fuck every facet of me from every angle until this stone's light shone bright like a supernova!

"Bitch, on your back."

Weakly, I slumped back on the floor, so sore but still so wet, my pussy still begging for more.

I needed to cum.

I reached my hand down to stroke my clit as he solidly thrust into me. Our eyes met. Just truth.

A glimmer of kindness flashed in his baby blues, and a quick, throaty laugh seeped out.

I was so happy he was enjoying this as much as I was. It was about time he had some fun!

But then the animal came back. The darkness pulsed in me and intention backed his thrusts. I could sense he needed release, too.

He bore his face into my neck, hot breath on my shoulder, and I grabbed his hair as I edged closer to my orgasm.

I shook with tension. He cupped my ass in his hands. My thighs were tight and lifted off the wet floor.

Deeper and deeper I felt him. Our energy met completely in sync and I could feel that serpent coil tightening.

"Harder!" I gasped.

He responded.

Feeling his cock twitch, I lost control. His balls slapped my ass and deep groans escaped his chest. My white knuckles clenched his body as I erupted in deep, g-spot convulsions, wave upon wave of mind numbing pleasure, surging uncontrollably through my body!

His hot cum exploded into my cunt as he let out a long, deep growl and pumped into me with all his strength.

With finality and confidence, I'd been had. Captured.

Conquered.

"Tell me you don't do this often," he said, once we'd caught our breath.

"Not nearly enough," I said. "Hardly anyone is worthy."

"Most men are too afraid to claim it."

"Most men aren't men, anymore," I said.

"Yes..." he said, letting it trail off deep in his throat with a satisfied smile growing on his glistening lips.

We laid there, in our pool of wetness mixed with dirt, spent.

"You really outta clean this floor more often. It's really gross," I said.

"Only whenever you're in town. I'll clean it with your cunt juice... you're my mop 'n bucket."