Goddess Ch 05 5 Interlude 01

(Author's Note: In the story this is placed between Chapters 5 and 6. I forgot to upload it here between them.)

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It was late last year when they'd met. Sydney at the time was in a group called W.A.R. (Women Against Racism), a collective of feminist anti-racist activists from varying shades of political positions. She and several other women had assembled on campus to protest the escalation of state-sponsored xenophobia by ICE agents in the area. In counter-protest was a group of various right-wingers - white nationalists, Neo-Nazis, MRAs, the usual bunch. They were adorned with DIY riot gear packed with the kind of far-right imagery one usually saw amongst this crowd of people - swastikas, Trump stickers, Black Suns, Pepe the Frog, and Southern Nationalist emblems.

Monitoring the area was the local police, and off to the side a group of various far-left activists. Some, to Sydney's great discomfort, were flying Soviet flags.

"Whatever," she thought "A bunch of Bernie Bros. acting tough."

The actual protest itself went on for about fifteen minutes, before the far-right activists decided to start getting in people's faces. It started out with slurs and the generous use of the word "cuck" whatever that was supposed to signify, before the far-right started to push the women there. They started to escalate. Blunt objects were being thrown, in some cases weapons were being pulled. Sydney called out to the police, but the cops did nothing. She looked on shocked, and suddenly caught a hit to the face. She looked up to see one of the far-right goons standing over her.

"Fucking femmoid!" he shouted, holding up her sign over his head, about to swing it down on her.

Suddenly, the goon caught a swift hit to the back of his head. A man, a little taller than Sydney, stood over her, dressed in all black with his face obscured, carrying a small black backpack.

"Hey there," he said, extending his hand. His voice was warm, and despite the situation he had a calm tone "So, these assholes are armed and dangerous. Take my hand, I'll get you out of here."

One of the goons came charging at him, but he threw several calculated punches to their chest and sent them back. Sydney extended her hand, and the man in black pulled her up.

"OK! Get moving, get people out of here!" he shouted.

Several other people were moving the other members of W.A.R. out of the area. The others were forming a human shield between them and the right-wingers. Sydney, feeling a bit dizzy from the hit, had her arm over the stranger's shoulder. The man got her a good distance on foot away from the action, and laid her down against the wall of a building about a quarter mile away.

"You OK?" he asked.

"Kinda dizzy." she said, rubbing her head. The man held up three fingers.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked.

"Th-three," she said "I don't think I got hit that hard."

The man sighed in relief. He opened up his backpack and pulled out a water bottle and some meds.

"Here. Over the counter painkillers. Should help plenty."

Sydney gave him a stern look.

"Don't worry, it's just acetaminophen. I'm not gonna drug you," He reached into his bag and pulled out a small loaf of bread "Also, some food. Good to have when you take medication."

Sydney took the medication and the bread, which was incredibly sweet. She started eating it more vigorously (it didn't help that she'd skipped lunch).

"Delicious!" she said.

"Thanks. It's a melon bread recipe a friend of mine picked up from a trip to China."

She wiped her face clean.

"But why come out to support us? I thought you Berners didn't care for liberals."

The man sighed a bit.

"Just because we don't like the Democratic Party doesn't mean we don't care about the people. If there's some fascists in the area, when they threaten the people, it's our duty as socialists to help. Also, for the record, I don't care for Sanders."

"HEY YOU DIRTY COMMIE!" came a scream.

"And speak of the Devil, they're back for more."

Coming from across the street was a fascist straggler. Guy couldn't have been older than 19, scrawny and white as a q-tip. Sydney got up.

"Sir. Thank you for your help." She started walking towards the fascist, who was now charging.

"Hey wait!" the man in black said.

"FUCKING FEMNAZI CU-" screamed the fascist. Before he could finish, Sydney gave him a firm backhand that sent him on his ass.

He got up and started screaming, "RACE TRAITOR BI-" Bam. One knee to the groin, and another backhand. The fascist teen went down.

Sydney bent down and yelled, "I'm sorry, what were gonna call me?!"

"N-nothing... ma'am." he squealed.

"That's what the hell I thought!" she said, giving him a firm kick to the rib cage.

Sydney walked back over to the man in black.

"Holy shit." he said.

"Yeah well, when your older brother likes to wrestle, you figure out weak points pretty quickly," said Sydney, wiping her hands on her pants. "Thank you so much for the help. I'm almost embarrassed that one of them got the drop on me like that."

A voice called out from the other side of the road.

"Hey!" The two turned. Another man in black, with a slightly bigger build called out.

"We're moving out! Scatter!"

The man in black nodded and turned to Sydney.

"Stay safe, OK?"

He took off.

"Hey wait I didn't even get the chance to..." But by the time she was finished, he'd already jumped a fence and hauled ass. "..thank you."

For the next few weeks, Sydney was thinking about it. A total mystery man, helping her for no reason other than the sake of it. Saving her, for that matter. If he hadn't gotten the jump on that fascist at the rally, she might've wound up with some pretty bad injuries. What was he like? What did he look like? Did he live around here? Would she see him again? Questions she couldn't rightly answer since all she had to go on was a voice. Then, one afternoon, on a stroll with Amanda, she passed a couple men on her way to class and heard it - that warm voice. No mistaking it, that was the mystery man from the rally.

"Hey, I gotta go." she said to Amanda, running off in the opposite direction and carefully maneuvering her way through a crowd of people. She managed to meet the man just outside of his next class. "Excuse me!" she called out.

She panted a bit and held her weight up by grabbing her knees, facing the ground. She looked up, then turned red. Dark, oceanic blue eyes. Earthy dark brown hair. A gorgeous square jawline. Not to mention a well-built physique that looked like it was sculpted by the Romans.

"Holy shit, he's hot."

She held her hand out.

"S-Sydney. Sydney Brednar."

The man shook her hand. "Tom. Tom Vernor."

"Listen, I know this might sound weird but... I think you saved me at a rally a while back."

Tom's eyebrows went north and he whispered to her.

"After class. Hour and thirty. Don't mention that so openly."

So she waited outside the door and Tom greeted her afterward. The two walked together on the way back to Tom's dormitory hall.

"I gotta say, I never expected to run into you again." Tom said.

"Me neither. But I'm glad we did. I never got the chance to thank you."

Tom turned to her and smiled. "Glad to help. Just doing my duty."

The two looked into each other's eyes for a moment, both silently enchanted by the other's beauty. Tom was the one to break the silence.

"So, I'm not doing anything tomorrow. You wanna go out?" he asked.

"I'd love that." she said. And for the next couple months, the two regularly spent afternoons together, learning about each other. Sydney loved sweets, French new wave cinema, and architecture. Tom meanwhile loved to cook, play his guitar, and recite radical poetry (itself often in Spanish). They traded jokes, spoke of their studies, and loved the other's company.

One night, as they watched a film by Godard in the student lounge, Sydney thought to herself: Why hadn't they had sex? Tom didn't seem to be against the idea, especially with the way he'd kissed her on dates. Those passionate lips running across hers, skipping along her neck before coming back to her mouth to have a tango with her tongue. God the idea alone made her horny. After the film, she snuggled up to Tom.

"My parents are out of town. We can go to my place if you like."

Tom looked nervously at her.

"What's wrong? Are you nervous?"

"A bit."

"Why?"

Tom tugged at the collar of his shirt.

"Sydney... my tastes are a bit... specific"

Sydney looked up at him and shifted his chin to meet his gaze.

"Tom, you're wonderful. You make me happy. Whatever your kink, I promise to be as supportive as I can." Tom looked at her, and then, his face red as a strawberry, he said quietly:

"I... I like to be... told what to do."

"You mean dominated?" she asked.

"If that's what you wanna call it. Nothing extreme or anything I just..." Tom paused "I love the idea of making a girl feel good, Sydney. I love being around you, and if we did it I... I'd love the idea of making you feel as perfect as you look."

Sydney blushed a bit. Then, she closed her eyes and gave Tom a kiss.

"I'd like that very much."

The two hurried to their cars and Sydney lead Tom to her place. She hurried them up to her room.

"So, how do you want to do this?" she asked.

"Do whatever you'd like with me," he said "I just want to make you feel like a goddess" Sydney giggled.

"A goddess, hm?" She leaned in and asked, "Does "onion" sound like a good safeword for you?"

Tom nodded. She pulled back and giggled just a bit more.

"Well, then. Your goddess demands tribute, mortal. Strip down and come to my bed."

Sydney undressed herself, revealing her slender figure, her gorgeous ass, and her petite, beautiful, firm breasts. She laid in the bed grinning.

"Well? Strip for me"

Tom undid his attire, revealing a grand body. Big, strong arms, a result of his boxing hobby. A glorious chiseled chest. And between his toned legs, an already hard cock, that just seemed like it was as hungry for this as she'd been. He crawled into bed beside her.

"Instruct me." he moaned.

"Close your eyes and kiss me" she said, her voice full of passion.

The two locked lips, and their tongues ran and slid across one another in an intricate waltz. Sydney broke the kiss, then ran her tongue down Tom's neck, stopping at his pecs to savor the taste of his firm body and soft skin.

"Lie on your back." she said softly.

Tom did as he was told. She went towards his hard proud dick and wrapped her hand around it.

"Extraordinary." she muttered. She paused a moment. What kind of reaction would she get if she started a little dirty talking? A little shaming? She had to know.

"What a perverted organ you've got here," she said, stroking his shaft.

"Do you intend to use this to pleasure a goddess like me?"

She pulled herself to his side, then continued to play with his cock.

"Well?" she said, bringing her lips mere inches from his, "Would you?"

Tom nodded. Sydney grinned and gave him a light kiss. She climbed atop him, and gently inserted him inside her.

She rode him for a bit before instructing him: "Fuck me. Fuck your goddess."

Tom started moving, fucking her softly at first, before Sydney intensified her movements and said, "Fuck me. Fuck me harder."

Tom began to move at a much quicker pace. She moved in sync with him, just barely able to keep up with his athletic stamina. The pleasure mounted more and more. She could feel it coming.

"G-Goddess. I'm not going to last much longer." he moaned.

Sydney began massaging her clit and working her right breast.

"Just hold on. Just a bit." she moaned back to him.

She was working Tom's cock alongside her own body at a maddening pace. The orgasm was going to be amazing.

"G-Goddess... I..."

She grinded herself more, feeling her own limit being reached.

"It's OK. You can cum inside."

He cried out in sheer pleasure, and she climaxed alongside him, feeling a level of joy she hadn't felt in years. She picked herself up off his cock, then curled up beside him and kissed him.

"So... would you like some snacks? We've got chocolate chip cookies downstairs"

"I'd love that. Thank you so much Sydney." Tom said, kissing her forehead.

Sydney brought the cookies upstairs, then after Tom ate, they fell asleep in each other's arms watching some television. The first of many amazing sessions between the two.