How I Met My Master Ch 03

AN: I like writing this story, so even if no one's reading, I think I'll keep going. :)

*

Over the weeks that followed, it seemed I couldn't go anywhere without bumping into David. The man I'd just met was becoming one of the few constant male presences in my life. On my way to classes he always seemed to be out for a smoke, walking his dog, or washing his car. If it were any other man, I wouldn't have been bothered, but David knew just how to push my buttons. It wasn't even what he said that got to me -- it was what he

didn't

say. It was his eyes, and that odd, piercing gaze he'd perfected.

If David "happened" to be sitting on the stoop of his apartment when I walked by, I didn't have to see his face to know he was watching me. I could feel him groping without touching -- pinching and prodding with humor. It only took one glance to drive me up the wall.

But the subtle torture didn't end there. At night, I would often glimpse David watching television in his bedroom. Now, normally it wouldn't have been anything special, but David was far from normal. He was hiding something from me -- something juicy.

Ever since I'd spied on him so many weeks before, it seemed that David was making the conscious decision to always shut the blinds was when he was entertaining a female. No longer was I treated to visions of a half-naked hunk tying or handcuffing his lady friends. Instead, David seemed to be keenly aware of my sneaking, and instead only allowed me to see him lead the woman to his bed, fully clothed.

They came in all shapes, colors and sizes, but seemed to be in the same age range -- late twenties to early thirties. Still, it amazed me to know that he could get so much ass while acting like a such a douchebag.

'What the hell is his appeal?'

I always hid behind the curtains as David led them in, and I knew he knew it. How? Well, every night before drawing his own curtains, David would make sure to pause and throw a wave my way. It was total obnoxious jackass behavior, but still, I couldn't bring myself to look away. There was something about David that intrigued me. Something about how smug and overtly sexual he was.

'What's that saying about good girls and bad boys...?'

"Why don't you just ask him out or something?" Blaine confronted me one evening after I was caught crouched behind a section of curtain.

"Never!" I gave her a dangerous look. "He's a psycho! Besides, you know I'm with Mark."

It occurred to me that I was protesting far too loudly, but Blaine was already halfway down my throat.

"

Mark, Mark, Mark

!" she seemed to be channeling Marsha Brady. "What does he have, a magic dick? What's it going to take for you to realize that he's screwing you over?"

"Well maybe I like being scr—

"—hey," Blaine held tight on my arm so I couldn't budge. "Is that my dress?"

When she gestured, I yanked away from her in embarrassment. All her talk reminded me of the date I was going on that night. The date I'd begged Mark for all week, and had to blow him twice just to get him to agree to. We planned to have dinner together and talk about the future. Of course, the planning was more me than him, and I was sure he wouldn't be eager about the conversation subject matter, but I was hopeful. I was always hopeful.

"I didn't have anything good enough," I huffed at her. I knew Blaine wanted to say something smart in response, but there was a sad look in her eyes.

"He doesn't have your best interests at heart." Her hands went out for me again, but I deftly avoided them.

"And who does?" I scoffed at Laila. "You? Playboy over there?"

"Why are you so hostile lately?"

I took a deep breath and then let it out, slowly. "You really don't get it, Blaine. You go out all the time. All I want is someone who returns my feelings. For once. Someone who only wants me. Someone who's not using me to get to you, or to see if I'm easier than you, but wants me. For me."

Blaine's gaze seemed to soften a bit at hearing those words, but I didn't want to dwell on it. She had already assumed I wasn't grown up enough for her. I turned away quickly and smoothed some nonexistent wrinkles from the curtains.

All of a sudden, I felt Blaine's arms wrap around me from behind. "Look, maybe we should talk..."

The doorbell rang, and I pulled out of Blaine's hold. "That's Mark!"

I was saved.

"Please," Blaine tried again, but I just ignored her and swung open the front door. Maybe I was acting a bit silly --

childish

, even, but I couldn't talk to Blaine about what I was feeling. I couldn't talk to anyone.

"I'll see you later. Don't wait up," I told her.

The moment Mark saw me, his eyes lit up with desire. I wore a gold, backless mini dress from the back of Blaine's closet. It was one she had most likely worn only once before discarding -- just like the men in her life. I told myself it was the last thing I would ever borrow from her.

I had to train myself not to pull down the back of the skirt, even when I felt it creeping up past my little treasure trove. This way, I reasoned, Mark would have something to compel him to finally seal the deal with me.

"You look great," he put an arm around my shoulder, and pulled up the door before Blaine could make her usual heated protest.

"Thanks," I gave his arm a little tap with my matching clutch and beamed.

I thought of the restaurant I had made reservations at -- a small Italian place, with close booths -- and couldn't help but smile. That night, in my mind, would be the night Mark finally stopped and took notice of what a fine woman he would be passing up if he went back on his word.

For ages I had waited, hanging on his kisses and promises. It was always "It's a bad time to walk out..." or "It'll be us together in the end," but I wanted more than that. I needed more than that.

Mark was the only man I'd ever slept with more than once, and I felt an instant connection. He loved me --I knew it. He just needed to get his head on straight.

"Look," Mark stopped me once we were out by his car. "I know I promised we'd go out tonight..."

I lowered my eyes to the pavement and began shaking my head in disbelief. "Come on...you said you weren't going to go back on your word. You swore."

Mark leaned down and pushed some of the hair from my face. The gentle touch gave me shivers, and I had to hide it from him.

"Yeah, look, babe I know, but..." he added a soft kiss into the mix. "How about we just get a room somewhere, huh? You can pick the place -- somewhere ritzy- anything. I'm just dying to get you out of this dress..."

"Mark, you swore!" I stomped my foot and wobbled in my high heels -- the heels I'd bought to stand up to at least half his height -- the heels I'd spent hours pacing around my room in just to make sure I wouldn't trip and embarrass myself.

'What a joke...'

He laughed at me and shrugged my nonsense off with a smile. I really was behaving like a kid.

"Come on, don't be childish." Mark tapped my chin and ran a warm hand down the opening in the back of my dress. His fingertips pressed in and kneaded gently. I couldn't help but draw closer.

"You shouldn't have worn this if you wanted me to take you seriously, darling."

I looked up at him, dumbfounded, but as usual, Mark had no sympathy to give me. Just a condescending smile guised under a sheath of good nature. I fell for it every time.

Mark dipped his head to kiss me, and stroked my hair once more as our lips touched. I was obedient in my response, and when his tongue swept into my mouth, my heart pounded a little faster. He did strange things to me, that man, despite how angry he made me.

"Hurry up," Mark ushered me into the car. I opened my own door, and when I got in, could see the beginnings of a tent in his trousers.

"Like what you see?" he raised a brow at me as I buckled my seatbelt.

I tried my best not to stare. Mark was standing at attention for

me.

Because he was turned on by

me.

Because he loved...

me.

"Yeah," I sounded unusually timid, but I knew it got Mark off. That was the shy, sweet side of me he'd been attracted to in the first place.

Mark put the car into gear and then grabbed my hand. I knew what was coming, but didn't resist. What would have been the point, anyway?

There was something so thrilling about sitting there with a hand down his pants, palming that thick heat while he drove. I made slow strokes down the length of him, and nudged the zipper down further with my fingertips. Mark made soft groaning noises, low in his throat, and I tried to coax out more. Moment by moment, I could feel the tip of his cock growing slick and wet with precum.

"Fuck, you're the best..." Mark slid his free hand over the back of my head and ruffled my hair. His voice was deeper and huskier, the way it always got when he was aroused.

I stopped stroking suddenly and Mark took his eyes off the road for a moment. He raised a brow, smiling. "What's wrong, baby girl...don't you wanna kiss it for me?"

He pushed his hips up from the seat and is cock jutted out far enough to touch the steering wheel. If I bent slightly, I would be easily be able to wrap my lips around the head. But instead of doing so, I merely swirled my finger around the tip.

"When we get there..." I bit my lips together to stall for a moment. Mark averted his eyes back to the road."...can we at least talk first?" I tried to sound sure of myself, but my voice was a whisper.

"Mn?" Mark removed his hand from my hair and loosened his tie while he drove. "Sure sweetheart, we'll talk. Whatever you want."

But we didn't talk. As soon as we got to the hotel, Mark barely gave me time to observe the surroundings. His movements were like clockwork, and he did everything to keep me from getting serious.

"Spin around for me," Mark leaned back on the bed while I slipped out of my heels. I did as I was told, but instead of feeling somber about it, I was aroused. Any other girl would have gone on being pissed, but there was something about the way Marl looked at me that always lifted my spirits.

"Like it?" I did a little twirl on my tiptoes and the back of my dress flared up.

I heard Mark's sharp intake of breath, and giggled. It made me proud to know I was doing something for him that other women couldn't. Little old me.

"I love it," Mark came to me quietly, and slid his hands over my bare arms. His pants were long gone and I could feel that familiar heat pressing at my hip. He inched my dress up a little further and then led me toward the bed.

"You're always so fucking sweet," Mark kissed between my shoulder blades as I positioned myself in front of him.

I kept on my stockings, the way he liked, and knelt with my back to him. Behind me, I felt the weight of the mattress dip as Mark climbed up, and his large, warm hands on my bottom. I let out a quiet squeak of approval as he squeezed, parted, and lightly slapped the supple cheeks. He always loved to hear me squeal, and who was I to deny him that satisfaction?

Blaine was wrong about Mark. It didn't matter that he was older -- that was just a plus. I'd never been particularly interested in the boys may age, and now I knew why. Mark had real experience and maturity. He knew exactly what made me tick and every night, he taught me incredible new things.

I bent low on the bed before him so that my bottom was in the air, and my pussy pressed close to his face. I could feel Mark's warm breath on the smooth, shaven lips, and it made me moist. However, instead of feeling his warm tongue probing, Mark pushed a thick finger inside me. I squirmed against the sheets and pushed back against his hand.

"How does that feel?" he murmured. I could only sigh out a response. While he flexed his finger inside me, I swayed my hips from side to side, covering it with my juices. I was a hard girl to warm up sometimes, but as long as Mark took it slow, I would be in heaven the entire night.

"Want more?" he leaned over me and I could practically hear him grinning. His free hand molded over my ass and pulled me closer as he pushed yet another digit inside me.

I went warm all over at the touch and clawed the bed sheets while he began to thrust them.

"Slowly..." I moaned, but I could hear Mark chuckle.

He placed a firm hand against the small of my back, and guided me until my chest was pressed flat against the set of pillows on the mattress. I had no choice but to remain there on my hands and knees, frozen, waiting for his next move. When finally he removed his fingers, I was caught between feelings of longing and relief. He really could be too rough sometimes. He wasn't like Blaine -- he didn't understand what I was feeling or where I needed to be touched, but I assumed it would come with time.

"Suck them," Mark came forward and offered his fingers to me.

He held his hand low, just above his cock, and I could feel it twitch against my throat while I took his fingers deep. They were sticky and warm with my juices. I twirled my tongue around the tips and slide it over the length, just as if it were his dick. All the while, shimmering pearls of precum formed at his tip and stuck to my skin. When Mark finally pulled back, he didn't have to say a word. I pushed the rosy head of his cock between my lips and sucked firmly.

As if by reflex, Mark's hands flew into my hair and jerked to yank me closer. His length choked me at first, but it felt good to have him so close. My hot tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft, and my nose brushed his smooth, firm tummy. For a long while, he just held me there, groaning softly while I swallowed and struggled for breath. Every gasp drew his cock deeper in my throat and coated it with saliva.

"Look up at me," Mark pulled my head back before I had the chance to tilt it myself. It stung a little, but I loved to watch him in pleasure and see that slight red tinge in his ears and on his neck when he was aroused. He loved seeing my eyes when I sucked him that way. Wide and desperate, pricked with tears when he gagged my throat.

When he finally let up, I dragged my lips from his cock and jerked it in my palm. There was something amazing about the way he felt. So hot and hard... men were just so arousing. From the delightful little noises they made when I touched my tongue to their tip to the lovely pulsing sensation I felt when they came inside me. It was all so addicting.

With my eyes on Mark's, I began to slide him into my mouth again, but he halted me. His large, warm hands skimmed over my sides and for a moment, I was floating on air. Mark hooked his arms under mine and lifted until I was far enough up the bed, then plopped me back down on the mattress. I giggled, and when he leaned over me again, I felt his cock twitch against my thigh.

"Here," I took his hands and placed them on my breasts. "Squeeze them. I love it when you..."

Mark pulled his hand away and instead, dipped his head to my tummy. He was a man on a mission and his kisses made a beeline down over my bellybutton to the treasure between my legs. Although I had expected it, the feeling still made me gasp. His tongue worked slow, hot circles over my clit and once more I felt his finger join in. I grabbed his hair with one hand and pinched my nipples with the other, taking over the sensitive spots he'd neglected.

"That's good..." My hand slipped from Mark's hair and I began to claw his back. "So good..."

Mark added another finger and I bit the pillow to stifle a squeal. The wet squishing of his digits inside me coupled with his suction on my clit was about to send me over the edge, and he knew it. He knew it, so he pulled away.

"Wait..." I refused to unlock my legs from around Mark's shoulders, but he just smirked and slapped my ass.

"Turn over," he demanded, but flipped me on the bed before I could even make a move.

His hands groped at the sheets and underneath my body until they finally found my breasts. He squeezed them harshly, without any of the finesse Blaine possessed. I had wanted him to touch them before, but forgot how clumsy Mark could be when he was horny. Like a bumbling little schoolboy. It was almost funny.

He pinched my nipples, which excited me briefly, but not nearly enough to send me toward an orgasm.

"Lift your ass," he grunted in my ear, but again, before I had the chance to move, he grabbed my hips and raised them for me.

I braced myself on hands and knees and prepared myself for the feel of him. From behind, I could feel Mark easing his head against the moist lips of my pussy, but his gentle touch was gone in a flash. With one hand on my shoulder, Mark bucked forward and stuffed me full of every inch.

"Oh yeah...you're so fucking tight," he breathed on my back again, and administered a firm slap to my raised cheeks.

I opened my mouth to response, but it when Mark jerked again; I had to bite the pillow. It only took a moment for us to settle into our regular pace -- a brutal, frenzied rhythm of pushing and thrusting that left me raw and Mark wanting more. His balls, so tight and full, slapped me harshly, and made me long for the thick, hot load I knew he would soon release.

"Oh Mark," I started to look over my shoulder at him, but got my face forced back into the pillow. The further I was bent over, the more leverage he had to fuck me harder, and he loved to get deep inside me. And I loved it too. There was something about a man who could take control that aroused me.

"How do you like this big cock in your cunt, you little whore?" He finally pulled my face up again, but this time to grunt in my ear.

My breathing came in quick, desperate pants.

"It's so good!" I managed to cry, and reached behind me to find something to hold onto.

"And who's daddy's little girl?" Mark yanked my hair with considerable force.

"I am!" I squeaked, along with the bedsprings.

As Mark slammed into me, I pushed back against him with the same force. I could hear my ass slapping against his waist, and pictured him watching his thick cock squeeze in and out of me with each thrust. His grunts quickly turned animalistic, and he gripped me as if his life depended on it. Soon, I was throbbing, aching, pulsing, and dying for release.

"Oh fuck yes, fuck yes," Mark hissed out through his teeth, right below my ear. There was alcohol on his breath that I hadn't noticed before, and briefly, a dark thought startled me. But as soon as Mark pushed down on my small frame, it was shoved out of my mind. He crushed me with his weight, and I could feel all of him that way, every hot, hard inch. I couldn't move, and could barely breathe, but I was so close I didn't care.

I was simple that way. No matter how horrible he could be, the sex was fantastic. I remember thinking it was shameful to enjoy something so carnal, so brutal, but that was before I'd ever experienced sex with Mark.

At once, my body tensed and jerked with release. I squealed into the pillow and let it fill my mouth as Mark filled my pussy. Once I came, he couldn't resist. The entire weight of his body smothered me, and he continued to thrust until every drop of his arousal had been spent.

"That's it, baby..."

Even as he finished, Mark kept his hold on me tight. "Good girl."

Half an hour later, I remained face down on the hotel bed while Mark busied himself in the shower. The smell of sex and sweat still clung to the sheets, and so did I. Reality always hit hardest after we'd finished fucking.

I hadn't told Mark any of the things I'd wanted to, and I could practically feel Blaine laughing and taunting me already.

'I told you so,'

she'd say.

'He's only using you for ass!'

But it wasn't true. After all, he'd chosen me. He'd made love with Blaine and he decided he wanted me, not her. There was obviously something there.