What Worser Place?

Helena:

The more you beat me, I will fawn on you;

Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me,

Neglect me, lose me; only give me leave,

Unworthy as I am, to follow you.

What worser place can I beg in your love,--

And yet a place of high respect with me,--

Than to be used as you use your dog?

-- Shakespeare,

A Midsummer Night's Dream,

Act II, scene I

Kristin Kuller remembered me well.

We'd dated briefly in college, but I'd never felt a genuine connection with her and had soon broken things off. Not until a few years later, when I was living alone and feeling lonely in a new city a few hours from my home town, did I renew our old acquaintance with a drunken phone call late one evening.

Kristin, I learned, had somehow developed the idea that I was the great lost love of her life. Though she was now engaged to a man named Todd DeMarr, she did not hesitate to agree to drive four hours the next day to see me. I made her no promises, merely told her that I'd been thinking about the few weeks we'd spent together in college and wondered why it had not worked out; it was all she needed to hear.

The next day she was knocking on my apartment door before noon. She had not changed in the last four years, not noticeably. She was a petite girl with honey blonde hair, a shade over five feet tall, less than a hundred pounds. Despite her diminutive size, she had a magnificent figure -- perfect round ass, tiny waist, tits plump and firm. She had never been vain, but she knew that many men found her attractive, and she further knew how to dress in a way that flattered her figure.

"Hiya," she said shyly.

"My god, you look good," I said, with exaggerated enthusiasm. I reached out and took her by the waist, squeezed her and pulled her close to test her willingness. She was tentative but tempted, allowed her body to be pressed firmly against me while she delivered a chaste kiss to my cheek.

"Thanks. You too." She pulled away, stumbled a little on the heels of her ankle boots. Her pale cheeks burned a lovely shade of pink. "So, how've you been?" She ran a hand through her hair, tugged at one ear, smiled diffidently.

"Real good. Come on in."

I stepped aside, gestured into the near-barren confines of my apartment. She laughed nervously and stepped inside; I admired her ass as she walked past.

"Nice place," she said, glancing around without seeing.

"It's a dump," I said with a smile. From close behind her, I put my hands again on her waist and pulled her gently toward me. She drifted backward until I felt her ass graze my groin, then she suddenly resisted. I allowed her to break the contact.

She looked at me over her shoulder, staring intently into my eyes. I grinned.

She licked her lips, exhaled a quavering breath. "I'm really curious why you called me."

I shrugged. "I'm lonely. I thought of you and wanted to call."

Her eyes narrowed warily. "I still don't understand."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Getting hurt. Again."

"No promises, remember. I wanted you to come for a visit and we'd see how we hit it off. See if we click."

Now she was chewing her lower lip; her brow was creased. "So what do you think so far?"

I found her insecurity alluring. "We'll see," I said. I hoped my tone gave just the right hint of doubt.

"You weren't disappointed when you saw me?" she asked.

She turned to face me. Her blouse was a tight red turtleneck, which emphasized her breasts.

"You look spectacular. Incredible." My hands drifted back to her hips. She did not attempt to retreat. I moved them up, to the bare flesh of her waist.

She gasped, twitched slightly. "Your hands are cold," she said.

"Sorry." I didn't remove them, but pulled her to me, finally kissed her. She was receptive, her lips and tongue caressing mine.

Breathing more heavily, she murmured through our kiss, "Exactly what are you expecting here?"

"Whatever you care for."

"I promised," she said, breaking off the kiss. "I promised Todd that I wouldn't ... wouldn't sleep with you. That I was just coming to spend the day and see ... see if we ... " She kissed me again. "You're such a good kisser. You always were."

"Same to you, my love."

"Don't say that," she sighed. "Not unless you mean it. Not until you mean it."

I nibbled her ear, let my breath tickle the hairs of her neck; her body trembled. I rested one hand lightly on a firm ass cheek. She wanted to resist me, but her body would not allow it.

"Please don't make me," she whimpered. "I'll do anything you say, but please don't make me cheat on Todd. He really does love me."

I did not deign to respond, but shifted my other hand upward, to cup her breast through the fabric of her bra and blouse. My thumb felt for her nipple, found it easily, hard and swollen.

"I'll use my mouth," she said suddenly. "I didn't tell Todd I wouldn't do that. Will that be good enough? I'm sorry I can't do more than that."

Her hands were already at my belt, fumbling with the buckle. She unbuttoned my jeans, unzipped them. She looked up into my face.

I smiled. "At least let me see those beautiful boobs."

She laughed, a little too loudly. "You really like them?" she asked, as if she could not conceive such a possibility.

"I love them."

Still laughing, she pulled the blouse up over her head with a sudden fluid motion of her arms, then unhooked her bra and let it fall.

"Magnificent! Shake them for me."

"What?" She looked at me quizzically, then gave a half-hearted shake of her shoulders. Her breasts swayed slightly, tantalizingly.

"No, no! A real shake. Side to side."

She shook -- once, twice, then buried her face in her hands. "It's embarrassing!" she groaned.

"They're amazing! Come on. Look at me." Then, more sternly, "Look at me!"

She looked up, her fingers still on her cheeks.

"Now you shake them nice and hard. Don't stop until I say."

She did not take her eyes from me; I looked back at her tits and she shook them, softly at first, then harder.

"That's it. I love it. God, that's sexy!"

"You're crazy," she said, but she didn't stop, not until I told her that was enough.

"Okay, you can use your mouth," I said. "You remember how I like it?"

"With both hands," she said with a coy smile. "Just to get you hard. Then just my mouth."

Eagerly I took her hand, led her to my decrepit sofa. I drew my jeans down to my ankles and sat on one of the board-like cushions, made her kneel between my knees. She took my flaccid cock in her cool right hand. She began to stroke it, looking up at me shyly. Then she bent her head and placed her mouth around my glans, sucking gently. When I had gained enough length she put her other hand on my shaft, using both to stroke me. I got hard -- very hard.

"Now your mouth," I said.

She sucked vigorously, bobbing her head to compensate for the lack of her hands. Clearly, she had not forgotten how I liked it. She used the roof of her mouth to generate friction against my cockhead, used her lips and tongue and even the back of her throat.

"You're there, baby," I told her. "You're gonna make me cum in a second. You're right there. I want you to swallow it."

She nodded, cooing urgently, sucking and bobbing.

"Thatagirl! Thatagirl!"

My spurts of jism

squelched

noisily inside her mouth and she gulped, moaning with pleasure. It was not a large climax; I had taken care of my own business the night before. When I was done I heaved a sigh and sank back. From start to finish, her blowjob had taken no more than two minutes.

"You were always a great cocksucker," I said.

She did not seem bothered by the unflattering word choice. Chuckling, she swept her hair out of her face, licked her lips. "Was it that good? I can't believe I made you cum so fast! Did you like it?"

"Well, obviously. I can't get enough of that mouth!"

She hid her face in her hands for a few seconds, then lowered her head to my cock and kissed the shrunken shaft. "You tasted good. Really good." Her breasts were brushing against my thighs, her nipples engorged.

"You horny?" I asked mischieviously.

She groaned. "Yes! Oh, god. I'm so wet! You got so fucking big and hard, and I thought you might insist on making love to me, I thought you were going to. And then you came so suddenly, and that was so hot -- I made you cum so fast, like you couldn't help yourself. Oh, my god, feel my panties, I'm so wet!"

She climbed astride me, her jeans unbuttoned, pink panties peeking out. I thrust a hand down the waistband, past her meager muff to the soft folds of her cunt. They were drenched with juice. I stroked her labia, gave her clit a few strokes with my finger. She closed her eyes and moaned.

"Careful there, girlie," I told her. "We mustn't do anything that might hurt dear Todd's feelings!"

"I don't love Todd," she said abruptly. "It wouldn't be fair to marry him and not love him. I realize that now."

"You're just saying that because you're horny."

"

You

make me horny. Todd doesn't do this to me."

"Come on, let's go get a bite to eat."

"Wait. We need to talk about this."

"We have all day to talk. I'm starving right now."

"Okay," she said, downcast. "We'll eat now." She buttoned up her pants, put on her bra and blouse while I dressed.

We ate at a cafe around the corner, made small talk. She was distracted and perturbed, but I had no desire to broach the topic which preoccupied her. When we finished eating I suggested a movie, and Kristin agreed without enthusiasm.

We went to the multiplex, where I chose a movie almost at random, a witless adventure film. There were not more than a dozen people in the theater and before the credits were done I had my hand down Kristin's pants. Within a few seconds she was once more sopping wet, biting her lip to stifle her cries as I finger-stroked her. When she came she squeezed her thighs together so tightly I almost lost circulation to my hand. When I had finally extracted it, I put my fingers to her mouth and she dutifully sucked them clean.

She was thus in a much better mood when we returned to my apartment; as the door closed behind us I took her in my arms and she melted willingly into my embrace. I rubbed my erection against her thigh so she would not mistake its significance.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.

I loved the way she framed her question, with the answer implicit in her tone, in the crease of her brow, in the responsive quivering of her body.

"Don't worry. I just want to feel your mouth again. Bet you can't make me cum that quick again."

I noted the flicker of disappointment in her eye, the downturn at the corner of her mouth. But she recovered quickly. "I sure hope not," she said, taking my hand and leading me back to the sofa.

I did not invoke the no-hands rule, and she devoted herself to pleasuring my cock with all of her considerable energy. I surrendered to her ministrations, willing myself to climax as quickly as possible; her lubricious avidity made my own task relatively simple. She began sucking me at 5:17 by the digital clock on the TV; I climaxed just as it turned to 5:20.

"You must be really excited to see me," Kristin said when she finished. She gathered her breasts in her hands, cradled my limpening cock between them and stroked it languidly.

"I just don't want you doing anything you might regret," I said, watching her approvingly. "No, don't stop. I like that."

"Is that why you wanted me to come up here? Just to get you off a few times?"

"I can think of worse things. Can't you?"

She nodded, stared down at my cockhead appearing and disappearing between her heaving breasts. "I can think of a lot better things, too. I can't believe I'm offering myself to you and you won't take me."

"I am taking you. Just not in the way you think you want."

"I know what I want, Jimmy! I want this cock, big and hard, inside of me -- And I want it in there until I explode all over it!" She looked at me, her eyes pleading. "Can't you see? I want you so bad! I want your cock, and I want you. And I want you to fuck me and fall in love with me. If you were in love with me I'd be happy to suck your cock all day, and if you came in five seconds then I'd just keep sucking until you came again; and all I'd need to know was that I was making you happy and that would make

me

happy!" Her voice was rising as she babbled, and she struggled to make some logical sense of all that she had said. "But since you don't love me, and I know you never will, all I want is for you to put this thing in me and let me cum for you."

"I already made you cum," I said reasonably.

"Yes." Her voice was subdued, defeated. "Thank you." She stood up and I admired her figure. "I should be going," she said. "If I leave now I can be home before nine."

"I wish you wouldn't leave."

"I don't see any reason to stay."

"Think how much I enjoy having you."

She laughed mirthlessly. "Having me."

"That's right. I adore having you. I adore your mouth and your ass and your tits. I adore cumming down your throat. I adore how horny you get just sucking my cock, that you get so horny I have to make you cum in the back of a movie theater."

She huffed, looked as though she wanted to be indignant but was confounded by the simple truth of my words. "I just want to lie down," she said. "It was a long drive and I'm very tired and a little nap would help a lot. Would that be okay?"

"Yes. You just need some rest."

I showed her the bedroom, then went to the kitchen and fixed myself a rum and Coke. I sat on the sofa and drank, watched a rerun of the

Simpsons

. When I went to check on Kristin in the bedroom, I found her curled on the bed on top of the sheets. She had changed into a pair of boxers, gray with white skulls, and a long pink nightshirt. She did not move when I approached, did not open her eyes. From her soft, steady breathing I knew she was sleeping.

I went back to the kitchen and made another drink, watched a lame movie on the TV. Before it was over, I slipped a porno in the DVD player and began to masturbate; to my surprise I got myself hard without much trouble. I sat fantasizing about Kristin, about the feel of her, of being inside her, and I suddenly regretted not having taken advantage of my opportunity to sleep with her. I turned off the DVD and, still stroking my erection, walked into the bedroom. I'd left the light on. Kristin still lay curled on her left side.

I stripped naked and crawled onto the bed, lay down beside her and allowed my cockhead to brush her firm buttocks through the fabric of her boxers. She stirred, raised her head, looked at me over her shoulder. I put my hand on her hip, eased myself forward so that my shaft slid between her legs, pressing insistently at the crotch of her shorts. She swallowed audibly, closed her eyes and leaned her head back so that it was against my neck. I kissed her cheek, smelled the liquor on my own breath. She did not speak as I grabbed the waistband of her boxers and with little tugs and jerks pulled them over the curve of her hips.

She rolled onto her back and wriggled to be free of them, raised her legs with knees bent so I could draw them over her ankles and fling them aside. I immediately got between her legs, kneeling over her, and took hold of both her ankles. I grinned down at her, holding her legs apart, my erection jutting above her beckoning vulva. Still she said nothing, just gazed anxiously at me with an expression which seemed to be composed of equal measures guilt and desire.

I pulled up on her ankles, lifting her ass. She sighed and squirmed, licked her lips and stared at me. I lowered her ass, spread her ankles two feet apart; the folds of her vagina parted noisily. I directed her ankles backward, pushing her knees to her armpits, lifting her cunt toward me; I lowered my hips to her, my cock settling against her hole. I could feel her wetness, her supple willingness. She moaned, closed her eyes.

"Oh, Jimmy," she murmured.

I lingered, pressing my shaft lightly along the length of her vulva. I jogged my hips, giving her a sharp tap with my cock. She twitched, grit her teeth.

"Don't tease," she whimpered. "Just use me. Make yourself cum. I want you to cum again."

I was already easing myself inside her, and she groaned loudly as I effortlessly sank all the way until my thighs pressed against her buttocks.

"Oh, god

yes

!" she hissed. "That's it! Pound me, Jimmy! Hard! Go go

go

!"

I didn't move, didn't thrust at all, yet within a couple of seconds I groaned loudly at the sudden incandescent eruption of pleasure in my loins. I quickly pulled out of her and jerked my cock off, my climax amounting to three small dollops of sperm triangulating her navel. Breathing heavily, I gazed down into her face. I wondered if it was disappointment I saw in the deep creasing of her brow, the glistening of nascent tears at the corners of her eyes; but then she grinned tremulously, and her nostrils distended as she exhaled a lengthy sigh.

"Thank you," she said softly. She blinked, releasing the tear trapped in each eye; they left twin trails down her temples to her ears. She dipped her fingertips in the semen on her belly, spread it in a glistening circle around her navel, put the fingers to her mouth and sucked them. Her eyes never left mine.

"I'll come back next week if you want," she said. "I'll come any time you tell me."

* * *

I did not require Kristin to come back for several weeks, though I did tell her to call me every night before going to bed and leave a message on my answering machine; she obeyed this directive with enthusiasm. Her first messages were short and generally cheery. She chided me (gently, of course) for never answering the phone when she called. She missed me, she said, and wanted to hear my voice again in conversation.

After another week she began to question where I was spending all my evenings, who I might be spending every night with. At first she strove to maintain a tone of casual jocularity, but she could not long conceal her jealousy in the face of my sustained silence. One night, nearly a month after her visit, she left a long and occasionally teary message, offering to leave Todd and come to me immediately if I desired. She called me cruel for never answering the phone when she called, and for never troubling to call her back despite her frequent requests that I do so. She worked herself into quite a lather over the course of her five-minute call, which culminated in a semi-coherent stream of invectives and a pledge never to call or speak to me again.

I had been sitting on my sofa drinking rum and Coke, watching Letterman on TV and half-listening as she left her message. When she sobbed "

Bastard

!" and hung up, I very nearly abandoned the silence I had so studiously maintained for the last four weeks. In a panic I stood over my answering machine and reviewed her message. I had wanted to see how long she would continue to call without the least sign of encouragement from me. Now I seemed to have my answer.

I listened to her entire message, then reached for the phone to call her back and offer her the reassurances she so desperately needed. It rang the very moment I grasped the receiver, and I restrained the urge to pick it up. Instead I let the machine answer, and listened gleefully as Kristin offered a tearful retraction of her previous message.

"

Please

forgive me, Jimmy, I don't know what's wrong with me, what came over me -- I think it's just that I miss you and I

really

need to hear from you. I call you every day, just like you told me, and I never hear back from you. I'm scared that you don't want me anymore, Jimmy, and I want you to know that I want to be with you just as much as ever,

more

than ever. I'm so sorry I said those things, Jimmy, I'll call you every day like you said, I'll tell you anything you want to hear. Just please let me come see you again. I'll make you happier than last time, I'll make you cum even quicker if that's what you want. If it's not, I'll do whatever you say. Just tell me, Jimmy, okay? I love you. Please call me."