Full Frontal Ch 02

1

"My place or yours?"

I stood there shivering in the morning chill, growing increasingly aware of the heated developments now taking place within the tightening confines of my pants. Fuck, there was no time to waste. My cock was stiffening just in the guaranteed certainty that I'd soon have it buried deep in her wet snatch. I had to make my move and fast.

'Yours,' I replied. She didn't know where I lived. We'd waste time just waiting for her to find her way around, unless she was going to grab a taxi and have it drop her at my front door.

No, it'd make sense for me to go to her. For one, I knew the place, and it was only a matter of minutes away on the train. Secondly, and this might have been a dick thing to play on, but I didn't want her to know where I lived, and I didn't want my nosy neighbours getting suspicious.

Thirdly, I didn't want Carrie to suddenly turn up on my doorstep, even though there seemed no chance of that happening.

Well what the hell did I know? I was thinking with my hard dick and it wasn't even 1pm. I was tired from work and suffering the shitty post-weekend sleep pattern, but my body was now going into overdrive.

'I'll be there in twenty or thirty,' I added and rushed along to the station.

Time, at least for the moment, was on my side. I was off the train fifteen minutes later and texting Sam that I was approaching the house a few minutes after that. She was at the door in advance, greeting me in a blue and white printed satin robe that showed off enough thigh to imply that this really was happening.

Otherwise she wore little to nothing else - as far as the eye could see - than the vaguest hint of a smile. With her hair simply tied back I could appreciate her attractive face, like a younger and softer looking Amy Poehler.

And she smelled so divine, freshly showered and perfumed, that I could barely resist her before the door was even shut behind me. As I said, my body was in overdrive. I was acting on the adrenaline and hormones being mercilessly pounded through my bloodstream.

The only words she managed were; 'So where were we?'

Our bodies nearly collided as I trapped her in the corner behind the front door and dove in to engage her mouth with mine. Instantly Sam pressed her body against me, sliding the inside of her knee up my outer thigh, her hand rubbing up and down my one again hardening cock.

We Frenched hungrily, with eager tongues, breathing back and forth into each other; my hands going eagerly to her big soft tits. She was wearing a bra underneath, which told me that my hand would also find panties when I so chose to reach between her legs to test for heat and dampness.

But this was not the same kind of padded bra that she had been wearing on the occasions that we had flirted and toyed before. I could feel her full form and the weight of her breasts as I pawed and squeezed at them like an animal.

'Let me see it,' she urged with pleading eyes, tugging at me through the in-leg of my jeans. With no time to lose, I pulled away and yanked at my belt buckle, hands trembling with excitement. I couldn't wait to see her reaction.

By the look of her face now Sam couldn't wait either. She paced back and forth on the spot in anticipation, watching as I then yanked at the metal buttons holding me down. With one swift movement I was in my shorts and yanking myself out, and my cock hung heavily, arching up to face her like a draw-bridge.

Sam gasped, 'oh fuck,' before wasting no time and squatting onto her haunches. I grew harder as she wrapped her fingers around the thick base of my erection and squeezed, but then I grew rock solid at the first hint of warm breath as she pulled me closer and opened her mouth to me.

She was as hungry for me as I was for her, and clearly as eager and excited. Considering that it was now obvious we were going to work through some foreplay before fucking, she didn't hold back.

With just a little saliva she eased back the foreskin to reveal the fat pink head of my swollen cock and immediately began to gobble at me with sloppy wet vigour, corkscrewing and bobbing her head energetically as both hands worked me back and forth.

I could brag. I'm proud of what I've got. My cock stretched her lips so that she seemed to struggle to accommodate me, but her quivering tongue and throat seemed long enough. I looked huge sliding in and out of her mouth, and her glazed eyes - filled with a drug-like lust - conveyed that she would worship me in many other ways that day.

I groaned my appreciation, one hand grabbing her by the ponytail as the other held her face up by the chin, maintaining eye contact as I could feel my face, my whole body in fact, twist and contort with the maddening sensations she caused.

God only knew what time had passed, but I could sense she was struggling, though her motivation refused to die. We were only getting warmed up.

2

'Let me tongue fuck you,' I demanded hoarsely.

'Mmmhhh,' she hummed on a full-mouth, so loud that the vibrations teased me from the head of my cock to the rear of my balls. She withdrew her mouth, coming away with ropes of oozing spit, and with a delicious pop. 'Aaahhhh,' she panted, getting her breath back, and then, 'you can tongue fuck me all you like!'

Almost drunkenly she stood up swaying, and then playfully dragged me into the living room. 'Oh I plan to,' I swaggered, reaching out to untie her satin robe. Before I could, it seemed she slipped out of the robe from the shoulders to her waist, revealing herself to me in a flimsy white lace bra that barely concealed her heaving tits.

Falling back into an armchair, and I'm guessing it was her fiance, Dylan's, the way it was situated for perfect television viewing. I was going to eat his fiancée's pussy right out and in his very throne.

Sam beckoned me with curling fingers, looking up at me with a deepening expression of arousal - the pink blush of her chest and throat burning in contrast against her otherwise cool fair-skinned tone.

I bent down and ran my hands up her thighs, disappearing underneath what remained of the robe, sliding up to her flexing hips - her legs parting, her knees pulling back - until I found the waistband of her panties.

By then the gusset of those panties, also white and lacy, and appreciably see-through, was in full-view, and now I had my own full-frontal. Driven to intense lust, I was in awe of her plump hairless mound and now greater anticipating how it would feel around my cock.

But that would wait! For now I had her in my hands and I would toy with her, and then devour her!

I fell to my knees and pinned her thighs back with both hands, communicating my intentions with just my eyes. She growled, her ass wiggling as if to greater offer herself up to me.

Without hesitation then I leaned in and pressed my nose and mouth into the gusset of her white lace panties, breathing her in and feeling the dampness and intense heat radiating from the fat camel-toe where the flimsy garment moulded to her.

She gasped. I breathed hotly right where my tongue would soon stray, into the soft centre where her sex melted in its growing need. And again she gasped. When I looked back up into her eyes, it was clear that the intensity had only grown greater.

She was clenching her teeth. 'Don't tease me,' she said tensely.

'You want it full-on?' I asked.

'Oh god, fucking eat me,' Sam demanded. So I yanked the crotch of her panties to one side, exposing her beautifully damp and puffy pussy, and immediately mashed my tongue, wide and dry and rough, right into the fleshy pink cleft, where I proceeded to lap at her like a thirsty dog.

3

'Ohhhh shit,' she panted.

'Ohhhhhhh shit,' she gasped aloud.

Eyes rolling as my deepening tongue swirled and curled, playing her like a fiddle and forcing her to yield to me - and as she helplessly rolled her hips up to meet my thrusts and licks...

'Ohhhhhhh holy fucking shhhhhhit!!'

She was so impossibly wet that by the time I'd get her into bed, I'd have no choice but to stay in deep as possible as I fucked the both of us raw. Otherwise I'd be slipping out trying to pummel her like a bunker buster missile with every thrust.

Right now I was lost in the taste of her, literally having to drink her just to stay afloat. And this was the most I'd ever enjoyed giving head to a woman, especially as I reached up and tore down the cups of her bra to expose her swaying breasts.

I had to fuck her right no-

THE FUCKING DOORBELL RANG!!

4

'It can't be!'

'No-no-no-no-no-NO,' Sam panicked as her phone began to ring from the arm of the couch. I pulled off her and kneeled back on the rug, my cock bobbing and throbbing before me. Again the doorbell rang.

Sam darted across the room to the couch.

'No-no-no... NO!!'

She showed me the screen. The name CARRIE struck the fear of god into me. 'That can't be her at the door,' I refuted in my own panic now.

'What do I do?' she asked quietly.

Thinking quickly - 'Don't let them see us at the window,' I urged, and shifted between the living room door and the hallway, frantically fumbling to stuff my rock-hard member back into my pants.

Of course Sam's question meant "do I answer the phone?"

And now she had. I winced, feeling the blood rush from my face with a cold shiver, like somebody dancing on my grave. Soon enough, I was sure, somebody named Carrie would be, right after she dumped me in it and buried me.

I tried to listen to the faint electronic voice emitting from the device in Sam's hand. Her own face was a picture of dawning horror. And then I realised I didn't need to listen so hard. I could hear her loud enough as her voice bounced off the windowpane.

'Are you going to let me in?' Carrie called out.

'Are you outside?' Sam asked. Well, no shit!

'I'm ringing the doorbell,' she said as boisterously as I had come to expect. To make her point, she did so again. 'You are home,' she intuited.

'I wasn't expecting you, was all... hold on...'

Terrified, my face yawned into a silent scream. What the fuck was she doing? Why was she playing right into it at the ABSOLUTE WORST FUCKING TIME IMAGINABLE?!!

'NO!' I mouthed, waving my hands, fighting to keep her attention, but Sam was hopelessly lost. Still, 'NO, NO...'

'I'm not dressed, Carrie,' Sam said.

'Well hurry up and get dressed and I'll wait!'

'What's she doing here?' Sam whispered, racing to stuff her tits back into her bra and to right her panties again. My life, not to mention my dirty afternoon, flashed before my eyes as we both pulled ourselves together the best we could.

'I can't be here, Sam,' I warned. 'There's no reason I can be here. She'll go fucking nuclear...'

5

Onwards and upwards, I left the ground pouncing into the air, up and over the wall. This was what my life had come to now - leaping garden walls in my urgent escape!

Into the neighbour's garden I flew, aiming to land on my feet, and then I saw the great big black fucking grizzly bear, not really grateful that I'd saw it before it saw me, and that plan flew away.

And actually it was a Rottweiler, but that made no fucking difference, did it?

I landed on the flags with a sharp pain in both ankles as I failed to absorb the shock of my bad landing. The dog roused immediately and shifted its heft to face me, growling. I couldn't move. I'd seized up with the agony of my bad fall and my legs were yet to respond.

Well, when a Rottweiler comes charging at you, demonic fangs bared, slobbering like a damnable beast at the gates of hell, your body will fucking break-dance with a wooden stake up its arsehole if it has to.

Barking and just about foaming at the mouth the beast came at me, and jacked up on sheer terror I darted for the next wall. I didn't even touch the bricks this time. I literally flew like I had a rocked up my back hole, feeling the hairy black nightmare snapping at my heels.

A few doors back I heard the very undeniable sound of Carrie shouting, and then Sam. I felt horrid going out this way, but what else could I have done? Face the music and then my inevitable murder?

But then what if Carrie knew somehow? What if she had been spying through the window before ringing the doorbell? I felt like the world's biggest cunt running away, but if there was a chance that neither of us had been caught, then it was worth the very slim odds it left us with.

High on guilt and shame and with my balls in my throat, I headed off to the safety of my home...

6

"Your girlfriend is fucking insane!"

At 6pm I read that message. So Sam was still alive. That was something, I guessed. The rest of the afternoon up until that point I imagined felt like a man's last day in court with the very realistic possibility of a death sentence.

I rang her. 'What happened?'

'She literally came all the way just to accuse me-

'Nooooo,' I groaned.

'Of flirting with you Saturday night...'

'Does she know?' I begged.

'No, but she's really not happy with you,' Sam warned.

'You think?' I asked. I started to laugh, but it was weak and defenceless. Yeah, I was the villain and I'd brought this on both of us. I had no excuse. I was just looking to avoid the inevitable. That inevitable thing sometimes came courtesy of nothing but paranoia, but now I did deserve the torment.

I exclaimed harshly, rubbing my tired eyes. Just worrying myself to death all day had drained the life out of me. 'I'll get back to you in a bit,' I told Sam, before hanging up. Honestly I had no idea why she would want me to speak to her ever again though.

And come 9pm the walls finally caved in. It was Carrie who called me and with immediate threat. 'Your side bitch is out of the picture,' she said coldly.

'What?'

'You really have no fucking idea,' she went on. 'You made a fucking show of me Saturday night. I've waited until I was calm enough to fucking tell you how that makes me feel...'

'Do you want to wait a while longer?' I suggested, short of patience despite being further in the wrong than she knew. And that pissed her off to no end. The only real problem that I had though, as far as I could see, was that I wanted to be done with her and didn't know how without utterly trashing Sam's life and engagement in the process.

Yes, I was actually worried about Sam's future marriage to a man who cheated on her at every opportunity. Maybe I should have let it all burn down right now, and just come out with it, but nobody deserved Carrie's rage. She was above and beyond reason even when she had no reason to suspect any kind of ill-behaviour.

After listening to her rant loudly down the phone for what felt an eternity, I tried to appeal to her better side. I fed her half-truths - scumbag that I am - and suggested that, yes, maybe I was a flirt, but then that was how we ended up together. I couldn't just stop being me.

'You honestly don't see yourself,' was the last thing of substance that she spat at me.

'Well it's hard to see myself past you when you're paranoid and envious of everyone you speak to, Carrie,' I said, and wondered what the hell was wrong with me the moment I said it. Yes it seemed that I actually didn't care as much as I thought I wanted to.

Truth be told, I just couldn't handle her!

She was shocked into silence. I knew I'd just broken her heart. I knew I wouldn't hear the end of it ever again. But I went on anyway. 'You said it yourself, you trust no-one, not even me. So maybe you should decide whether you should even be with me if you don't trust me,' I hinted, and then told her I was hanging up.

7

"What just happened?"

It was now 11pm. I was desperate for sleep. I knew I wasn't going to. I was too wound up. For the past hour Carrie had waged furious war on my Facebook newsfeed. Even though there was no saying whether we were still together or if I was now the most hated man in the world, I was reeling with anxiety and the messages were coming thick and fast from everyone.

Before I switched off my notifications, that one message from Sam came through.

'Don't ask,' I insisted shortly. 'I have to be up early for work. I'm sorry I got you into this.'

'I told you your girlfriend was insane.'

'I'm not sure she's my girlfriend anymore. Actually I dread finding out either way,' I slipped. I didn't want to get into it and now here I was, looking as though I was seeking sympathy.

'I feel like shit,' Sam replied. 'I knew even a good hard shag was too good to be true.'

Lying in bed, I found myself laughing. 'You never know,' I consoled, probably myself more than her. If anything I had been so turned on by the prospect of having sex with Sam because she was not hard and domineering like Carrie. I knew that the sex with her, in contrast, would be softer and more gratifying.

I was too used to having to grit my teeth, clench my fists, to bang Carrie senseless the way she wanted it, when she would never qualify for the intimacy that so many people labelled "vanilla".

There was nothing fucking wrong with vanilla. Almost everything sweet in this life was founded on the wonder of vanilla...

'We were seconds away,' Sam replied, then adding the one word that summed it all up - 'Devastated!'

The man-slut that I was, I swiped quickly through my photo gallery. My heart lurched with one last reserve of adrenaline, nothing but a drop in the murky well. And what the fuck, I thought. I was still interested, more than ever after our secret encounter, and wanted to show her.

I felt no shame. Here I was now lying in the dark. The chat box filled up with the large rectangular image, and I knew it'd grab her attention right away. I saw the prompt "typing". It came and went frantically.

'Fucking hell your cock is huge,' she gushed.

'At least we have some wank material to work with,' I replied and then made my excuses.

8

We were still together, so it seemed. By Friday night I knew for sure. That fateful evening slumped heavily and inevitably toward reality for the next four days, and I didn't have the guts to tell her that I didn't want to be with her anymore.

Looking back, she had been a great friend, when we had been friends. But that was the sad part. We might have been together, but we were no longer friends and that said everything about our relationship and the worsening nature of it.

Three days on a drinking and fucking bender and I was miserable, and yet I knew that she was probably still worse off than I was, because she could not face the facts. We didn't love each other, we were growing all the more volatile, and yet all the same...

I was all she had!

Carrie was the living embodiment of anxiety, which was where her doubt and paranoia and anger came from. What was I doing carrying on with her, and carrying on around her? I was afraid of what she would do to herself, not to me, if I broke up with her.

'You might be a fucking cunt sometimes,' she told me drunkenly that weekend, 'but you're my fucking cunt.' That was possibly the most romantic thing she had ever said to me or anybody else, but I'd be lying if I didn't see myself chained to her radiator within the next five years.

The edges softened though and about a fortnight later. Things returned to the normality that at least we knew. We both had considerably less friends, the result of her online rampages and nothing else, but when she was seemingly happier, I could stop worrying.

Still, in all that time I didn't stop talking to Sam in secret. I couldn't and wouldn't stop. Apart from the fact that she offered a friend - knowing what it was like to be utterly alone in a relationship as a result of the poisonous envy of others - the fact that we still wanted to fuck was palpable.

And when things smoothed over, I felt the urge return, particularly as the photo I'd sent her to enjoy had turned into a game. That in turn had led to a lot of one-on-one fantasising about how we'd like to fuck each other.