We're closing in on the end. I've got most of the rest of the story written, so I'm hoping to get the last few chapters out every other week from here on out. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 10: Best Served Served
Ugh, I feel like crap today. And I don't mean the usual "I woke up sleepy" crap that most people refer to when they say that. Or the "I'm overwhelmed with all I have to do today" bullshit feeling as if that were somehow uniquely applied to them and only them. No, I mean the "my heart and stomach were dropkicked by a Brazilian soccer player after being pummeled by a rabidly nasty mountain goat but being chewed by a certifiably insane boxer" kind of feeling.
Today was a particularly grueling day on the job, and I honestly don't know how my boss puts up with my significantly decreased output of work over the last week. Actually I do know how he puts up with it. It's because he's one of those incompetent managers that has absolutely no fucking idea what his workers do or has any experience in this field. That means I can bullshit him up and down every which way in my sleep.
Which, it turns out, is a good thing because that's exactly what I'm doing. All night long I'd tossed and turned in bed, desperately trying to think of any way to get out of the blackmail Brittney holds over me that doesn't involve me getting thrown in prison. No matter how much I think about it, though, it always comes down to my word against hers, and my word won't be worth shit after people hear what I did to Tasha, plain and simple. Ok, granted my word was never worth shit to begin with, but don't get me off topic.
I did manage to come up with one plan that I have to admit is pathetically stupid and probably won't do me any good whatsoever, but I have to try something. That's why I'm currently knocking on Brittney's apartment door at 6 o'clock. That's 6 o'clock SHARP because that's what fucking Brittney demands. I never understood what means, 6 o'clock sharp? Like time is a knife you need to keep in a special drawer away from small children so they don't nick themselves? Whatever, I just hope my stupid plan fucking works.
Brittney answers the door wearing a bathrobe and smiles as she lets me in. "Oh, I've been waiting for this!" I step in and put my wallet and keys on a table by the door, then I nonchalantly put my cell phone down on its side. I surreptitiously click the Record button on the digital recorder of the phone, and then put the cell phone down again.
I turn towards her and grimace, "Just tell me what you want me to do and let's get this over with."
"Oh come, come," Brittney said in a mockingly sweet tone, "no need to be so down. I just..." she paused for a moment to think, "I want you to show me some of more of your exercises, the kind that make me feel SO good." She never refers to what we do as my exercises, so now I know she's just messing with my head. Of course, dropping her bathrobe and revealing her naked body to me is doing a lot more to mess with my head than anything else. She slowly walks toward me then grabs my hand, thrusting it into her crotch and whispers into my ear, "Finger me."
Under normal circumstances, any day that a beautiful woman with nice perky D breasts asks you to put your fingers into her moist pussy can be instantly classified as a very good day. But when it comes to a hateful demon like Brittney, even this wonderful request gets ruined. But of course, that doesn't stop me from sliding my fingers into her wetness and rubbing the lips of her labia with my thumb. Every time I find the knob of her clitoris, she lets out a moan.
She clenches my tricep and pulls my arm towards her, coaxing my fingers deeper into the spongy walls of her drenched vagina. As I move in and out, I can feel her tightening her pussy around my fingers as my other hand reachs out and squeezes one of her nipples. Her hands scramble to undo my belt and pull my pants off while my hands are busy doing other things.
Next thing I know we are down on the floor on her rug. I honestly can't tell you if she pulled me down there, I pushed her down, or we both just lost our balance and landed on our respective asses. All I know is she is on her back with her hands on my buttocks and guiding my groin so that my cock aligns with her pussy. She smiles as she spreads her legs apart and pushes me inside her.
My mind starts imagining I am on top of Tasha, and I rock my pelvis back and forth so that I thrust inside her with a force that makes her gasp. I imagine I'm watching Tasha's breasts shudder every time I shove my body into hers. I imagine it's Tasha's hair I have grasped with one hand, and that it's her leg I have lifted up to rest on my chest with the other hand. I hold her thigh steady as I pummel her wet cunt repeatedly and listen to her excited pant with every plunge.
I almost tell her I love her until I remember that it's not Tasha, which then makes me want to get this fucking thing over with, and I literally mean this fucking thing. I give several more plunges into her tight pussy, and it doesn't take long until my cum bursts inside her and turns her wetness into a sticky combination of sweat and jism.
She rolls over on the floor breathing heavily, which makes her large breasts wobble and quiver. "Thank you, Albert. That feels so good," and then she gives a devilish smile, "and I really think these exercises are helping me fit into my lingerie."
I look at her confused, "Oh cut the act, you know that's all fake."