The Game

Chapter 8: The last drop

"Jarred"

I know you saw your latest ex the other day, you called and informed me he was dropping by, which was sweet, but you also jotted down his number, which you failed to mention. I know why, I'm not entirely ignorant, and it hurts a little. Though I love you with all that I am, I know you need something else, and I allow you your flings, but he scares me. You are so exquisite and I remember you whispering in the dark about how amazing he was and how you didn't like him much, but worshipped his manhood whenever you had the chance. And, though I had asked the question that led to this admonition, it struck me to the core, being as how it was so brutally honest.

So, knowing that you have seen him, I worry. Not because you will leave me to love him, I know your love is for me, but I also know how you feel about him and you've described the things he's made you try and done to you. I felt raped then, knowing that another man had done those things to you and how you had secretly liked them so much. But, with his return, I now know that I will have to compete with more than just strangers, I have to compete with your personal favorite and the one who could talk you into anything, anywhere. Now I am truly tormented and confused. Will you betray me again? Or would you at least share your interests and make it a part of the game willingly? I only want to see you happy and die when you are sad, so I just want you to tell me and not deny your feelings for me, or anyone else. But I know what will happen, I will get paranoid and check up on you, and you will mouse around and be impossible to find. Then you will get angry with me for being nosy and asking questions, while smiling internally at the joke on me and then, eventually, I will catch you in the act and we will have it out. This is not what I want for us, but I suspect it is what you wish of me, to see me stand up for you in-front of him, to butt-heads with another buck for your attentions and to win you rather than have you. You are a wicked woman in every respect, yet my groin yearns for your sweetness every minute of every day and I am drawn to follow you into one trap after another, knowing that I will hate and love every second.

So today, while I stay at home and you go to work, I think of you and how you slipped his number out of yesterday's jeans and into your pocket this morning, you are far from sly. And I have to wonder why, to make contact? To make plans? Will you see him on your days off? I love you so much that it tortures me to think of you with him, the way he holds you, the way he kisses and makes love to you. Will you still want me when I come home? Am I man enough to be the one you return to? If the answer is yes, then I don't mind. You are a goddess, a living, breathing example of a perfect woman still trapped inside a girl's body. You are so delicate and soft, so breathtaking in your beauty; I only wish to serve you, knowing that others will do the same to gain your attentions, but knowing you will return to me.

Its not that I mind, I know you like to have your secrets; it drives you crazy to think of my jealousy if I only knew. Isn't that what you said to me that day? If I only knew, though I couldn't be sure if you were trying to tell me that I have a small cock, or if you were trying to tell me that you have other lovers who are bigger and better. I know you do, and I don't mind, I've always sort of known I didn't measure up, but you love me still and pretend to enjoy my touch, my kisses, and my manhood, so I am content. But I want you to share, to tell me of your adventures and quit being so sneaky, I want you to fuck other men, as long as you come home and make love to me, it doesn't matter where you were or whom you were with. I live to see you happy and I know that your "friends" can serve you well and fill your lovely slit with what you love most. I just want you to remember to serve me when you get home.

So here is your permission slip, be nasty and do what wicked things you wish to do, just don't forget about me. I'll be here waiting, while you slip other men into your luscious mouth, tug on them with your gentle hands, or beg them to fuck you over and over, I'll be here patiently waiting for you to return. I don't mind the fact that they stretch you out and spurt jism inside you, I know how much you love it, and though you don't seem to like sucking my dick, I know that you probably do it to them for the thrill. Sitting in their car, parked in an alley behind your work. It must be hard to resist; not having much room to fuck and eventually growing tired of making out

And being fingered in the front seat, you yearn for their stiffness and decide to lean over and try to please them in the short amount of time you have together. I think of it often, imagine it when I kiss you, knowing that another man may have just spurted his load in your mouth and sent you home to me. Knowing that you like to humiliate me, I try to forget the insults and the quiet comments about my penis, knowing that you get mad and the truth comes out, but hoping that you love me for who I am and not for the size of my cock. I know I am lost in you, you are a tiny girl, but you've come home so dilated from being with other men, that my little dick is simply lost inside you. It hurts to remember what you say to me when you are angry; you are so straightforward that it doesn't even occur to you that you have crushed my ego. That day when we fought on the phone and I started to say I felt used and you laughed so hard when you said, "Yeah, I'm just using you for you huge cock," and hung up. It cut me to the quick, knowing that you honestly think that I have such a tiny member, and knowing that you've compared it to all the other lovers you've had. You told me when we first started having sex that I was the best you'd been with and had the biggest dick you'd ever experienced, but I learned that it was far from the truth, in fact, perhaps I am the smallest you've ever seen and had. But its O.K. as long as you still want it, I don't care how small you think I am, or how many bigger and better ones you stick inside you, I just want you to worship mine occasionally and tell me about the others while you do it. I imagine, while we make love, what it must be like for you, sneaking out and meeting your lovers, secretly fucking and sucking them, then coming home to me and telling me that your day was boring and uninteresting. I can feel how hot, wet, and sticky you are inside, how horny you must have been for them to still be so drenched in sexual juices when you arrive. You try to act interested and I slip my miniscule erection into you and pump you as hard as I can with my candy cane. You are so sweet, playing the part as though you can feel me inside you; acting like my swollen soldier actually fills and excites you, when I know you are simply reliving your sex with them as I pump away with my insignificant stick. But I love you still for protecting me, though I have discovered the truth now that you brought it to my attention. When I look through the magazines I can't help but compare myself to other men and damn, was I disappointed? I really am small, not even close to average, and I thought I was so big. But I was fooling myself, though I couldn't fool you, and now I see the truth, I'm hung like a baby and you probably laugh everytime I get naked in front of you. No wonder you have so many other lovers, you have to make up for what I lack. One even boasted about his size thirteen shoes in a letter I found. How big was he? Easily bigger than me I guess, but was it huge? Did you love having his massive cock inside you? In all the times you went to visit him, did you ever try to stuff the whole thing in your mouth? No wonder you wanted anal sex that night, you must have been stretched to your limits by him. I remember finding your pants the next day, crusted with more dry cum than I could imagine, and smattered with his dried orgasms, front to back. You are a naughty one, though you still have a hard time being truthful about it, and I love you all the more for coming home to me and playing with my tiny prick afterward. I know that you had already had your fill of cock, but wanting to please me before you passed out. I know he was there when I made you promise to come straight home, watching as I begged you not to go out, knowing that he was going to fuck you good and send you home to me only after he filled and spilled your beautiful cunt. But I waited anyway; knowing that, while I paced the floor at home, you were on your back at his house, being stuffed full of him and loving it.

So, now that I have disappointed you and you need time away to think, what will you do? I really want to just sit you down and beg you to cheat on me, that way I'll know you're doing it. No more guessing or looking through your things, I want to invite him over and just let the two of you go into the bedroom and get it out of your systems. Fuck until you can't walk, let him drip you from head to toe, do as you please and just end the suspense. I will sit and listen to you call his name while he stuffs you full of his manhood, hear every grunt and moan as you take him inside you. It would be a hellish nightmare, but I won't be able to shut it out. I will peek in on you to watch him slamming himself against you, your legs spread wide and wrapped around his waist, your mouth an "O" of ecstasy as you close your eyes and concentrate on his penetration. I will die inside, my balls will shrink, my stomach-ache, and my cock will hang limp and ashamed, but I will not be able to look away as you kiss him gently and hold him close and he splashes your insides with his hot cum. Even when you are done and he leaves, having given you so much pleasure that you just lay in bed, spread wide and naked, I will come to you. I will ask for permission to touch you, to slip my tongue inside you and taste your excitement. I only want to please you and share your beautiful body, I will do as you ask and consider myself lucky to be allowed.

You are so amazing; I know that you could handle a room full of men. Pleasing every one of them in turn and taking one huge dick after another, you would wear them out and accommodate even the biggest easily. You are a sex machine, though I didn't know it at first. You are this incredible wave of sexual energy that washes over me and leaves me swollen and full of lust. You alone have this power over me, yet you are unaware of its potential. You can ask anything of me, from the small to the perverse, and I would do it for you. You are my fantasy and my princess, so when I daydream I see you. When I look through a dirty magazine, I look for a girl who resembles you. I picture you there with a throbbing prick in your mouth, smirking at me as you enjoy giving him so much pleasure and knowing that I am watching it all, or spread beneath him and taking him in while you stare at me in an accusing way. It is a naughty secret that I wish to share with you, but you make it so difficult for me to be honest. I have to know what you've done and whom you're doing to have courage enough to talk. I want to share, not inhibit your libido. You may explore as you wish, but I have to know that you'll be willing to confess to me your secrets, that I might enjoy them too, otherwise it is only you having fun and being selfish while I am being used.

"Richard"

Now I have discovered something quite new to me and very erotic indeed. Knowing now, as I do, that you are cheating and seeing you come home a little later every night. I am angry and hurt, but secretly, I lust for your wickedness. When you come home, full of him, but in need of me, I waited patiently for you. Imagining what you'd been doing, and going mad with jealousy, until you walked through the door. Quickly past words, I picked you up and tossed you in bed. Rough and angry I tore your clothes away and stripped you to your barest form. I could smell your sex, your excitement, you stunk of a fresh fucking and I was livid with lust. I mounted you and you grasped my prick, stroking it, pulling on it, and wanting it inside you, but it was still limp and lifeless. I simply couldn't make my dick get hard with the thought of him entering you, poling you deep and wide and stretching your pussy out, then sending you home to my hopelessly tiny member to be disappointed. So, worse than normal, my little cock just shrank away to nothing and you gave up on it. Insecure already I had to ask how big your new boy friend is, which sent you spinning out of control, but I held you down and forced you to tell me. Finally, after kneeing me in the groin twice, you gave up escape and, face red with rage, you told me. "He's huge," you screamed. "The biggest I've ever had by far and he hurts me when he fucks me, unlike you, you fucking limp-dicked faggot." You shouted and twisted, kneeing me hard in the balls. "You're so fucking tiny I can't even feel it. I laugh at your little, baby dick every time I see it and all my friends know how fucking tiny you are. I hung up that picture I took of you asleep, where you were about an inch long, on the wall at work the last time you pissed me off and everyone saw it. He fills me, fucks me, and makes me suck his big dick and I love to, I just won't suck yours because yours is a joke, little man."

Mad as hell, but fully erect, I wrapped my scarf around your neck and started to choke you. Sliding quickly inside your burning, wet pussy, I drove my fullness into you as you struggled. Knowing that you like it rough, I kept tightening the scarf around your neck until you turned blue. Cursing you for being such a slut and dipping myself into your wide opening, you moaned loudly and rocked with me as I drove myself into you. Softly you kept saying my name as I pumped and pounded your slick cunt and choked you to the borders of consciousness. Finally, after a tensing orgasm, you lay still and unmoving and I slipped out of your sweet hole and into your sour. Slapping away like mad, I punched my swollen member into your ass and then pulled out and spewed a stream of cum across your beautiful face. Hot jism dripped from your plump lips and ran into your slack mouth as you lay there still. Then, after spreading your legs and burying my tongue in your hot, sticky depths, I slipped my hand inside you and made a fist. Your eyes fluttered open and you licked at the glistening drops of semen on your lips, and looked down at me as I pushed my fist deep inside you and you clamped down on my forearm. Now you were tight, with such a large instrument inside you, you bit your lip and began to moan as I buried my arm in you, filling you to your maximum. You cried out and twitched, you pulled at my hair as I pushed into your deep center. You seemed to love it as I fisted your entrance wide and tongued your swollen clit. When you came it was epic and I was unable to retrieve my arm until you relaxed. Then, hard and ready, I stuffed my prick in your tight ass again and you faked discomfort at my penetration, acting like it hurt so badly to have so much in you, and soon, I came. In steaming, streaming jets of seminal fluid I filled your smallest hole with my intense orgasm and fell on top of you exhausted.

"Nick"

So, Christmas time is near and you've found yourself a new piece of meat, the guy who works next door and is always talking to you when I pull up. It's no surprise to me, I've seen the way he looks at you, but I'm slow.

The stuffed animals you hide. The need to go out with your friends, recently, while being so vague about where you're going or where you've been. The call at the hospital to see how you were. I'm not that fucking stupid, deny it all you like, I told you I saw it the other day, when you stepped out from behind the counter and he, not realizing I was there, stepped up to you like he knew you very well. You should have been honest with me about things, I love you, I would listen and try to understand, but you are an island. So I sit here, sad, wondering which of us you spend your day thinking about, it used to be me, but you are a fickle cunt, unwilling to share and too afraid to let go.

You were off all day yesterday to see your mom in the C.C.U., but when we got home you were ready to fuck and I wonder if you felt the same thing before you got to the hospital that morning. I know you ran here and there, you weren't there all day, so what did you do to make the pain go away? Did you fuck him? Does he sit with you at work while you clean the b-rooms, like I did when we were just getting started? You're a nasty one, does it give you a thrill to lick it and stick it quickly while you hope that no one walks in on you?

Lately, we've stepped up the kinky-ness a notch, choking you with a scarf until you're blue in the face, fucking you hard and calling you a bitch, you love it. You want more and I'd like to give it to you, but you worry me. You were huge last night, forget that you were slick and ready, you were dilated to the point where I could only feel your wet lips colliding with my pubis, and I was lost in you. I know you don't have a manual, I've looked for one, but you must be sticking something awfully big up there and I need to know what or whom, just to give me peace. I'm not sure I'd do anything different if you came home and confessed. I don't want you to leave. But, last night, when we talked about him and you said you wouldn't let me down (again), I saw a distant and sad look in your eyes, like you knew that wasn't the truth, and I lost all hope. Now I sit here, made small and insignificant by your lies and wonder if you love him or if you just needed a distraction. You've confused me all along, but now I'm just scared of the magnitude of your deceit, what lengths would you go to, to hurt and embarrass me? 6 inches? 7? Maybe even 8? You're a trip and I can't even begin to understand your behavior, but I do know that I am at my wits end, I love you, but you have to go, you're too painful to love and too dangerous to keep.

So I hope it's all worth it, I mean most of the guys who fuck you just do it for sport, while I have wanted to love and protect you all along, but you're an independent and don't want the rules, even though you do want the security. Well, what can I do? You'll see him today; while you work he'll come over and chat with you. While I sit at home and miss you, he'll be there and you can flirt and pass notes and act like school kids while you crush my heart and make me hurt. Is that what you like? Is it kink for you to see me in pain? Do you like the rush of having both of us so close to you, knowing that if we knew what the other one was doing to you we'd kill each other? Or do you secretly dream of having both our cocks in you at once? Is that it? You want to be the center of attention, taking both our erections in a fever of lust, me sliding into your mouth while he pumps his dick into your hot and ready tunnel.

I found your rag the other day, on your day off. Gathering laundry, I found, right beside your nightstand, a rag, dried and crusted with cum, a pubic hair stuck triumphantly in the middle, proclaiming the consummation of the act and its finale. So now I know your secret, while I have always worn a condom, you fuck them natural and let them cum all over you. I saw your panties and pants the next morning after your rendezvous with Richard, now Nick has joined the game and comes to pleasure you in our bed while I am away. Not even cleaning up, you leave your evidence for me to find, your lover's tracks, spit across your stomach and wiped away, forgotten by you, but tormenting me. Do you love it? The best of both worlds, with him pumping away at you and spewing jism into and all over you, then waiting for me to come home and serving me seconds. You always shower afterward, that's how I know you're done for the day, but that doesn't cover the tracks he leaves inside you. I can tell when another man has been inside you, sometimes I wonder if you haven't worked in more than one, so slick and creamy, you are stretched and loose, making me work to pleasure you with my little dick. But I know how to pound you out and leave you tired and sore, you still take me everyday and go along with almost everything I suggest. You lick my ego and have learned to build me up like a woman should. You serve me at a moment's notice and let me pump away at your beautiful entrance whether I am full of blood and hard as a rock or feeling small and giving you the best I can. To you it is my love and you take your fill of me daily, at all hours and sometimes upside-down. You love me when I am huge and fucking you to the beat of Korn, strapped to stay plump and purple with lust for your sweetness. You love me still when it is late and the best I can do is to poke at your inviting depths with an inadequate semi that is swallowed whole by your vast and cunning center, licking at my stiffening shaft and tongue-ing at my balls with your juices. I wait for you when you leave, I think of you until you come back, and I picture your face every second of it. You are my sexual fantasy, living and breathing beauty and light, you are what I think of to get off, alone or with you. You have me by the balls and I am weak when you do not smile, I allow you to twist and squeeze away, letting you take out your frustrations on me. Tell me what you like and I will go along, I dream of your finally opening up and being free and honest with me, sharing your desires with me and taking control of my joystick. I know you love and appreciate me, even at my worst, and you can't seem to leave. I only wish you happiness in your life and want to be a part as long as I am supposed to be I think it is a lesson for me to learn. It has shown me humility and patience, brought me much sadness, but also great heights of joyous rapture. I have learned to do my part and to be the giver, not the taker. I have learned to love in an unselfish way and accept things as they happen. I have learned to love you no matter what the circumstances