Skinny Bitch Ch 05

It never occurred to me that what Tracy did to herself was bad for her.

I had always been attracted to thin women, had always dated skinny girls. Tracy was by far the skinniest of any woman I'd ever dated, I don't think she'd ever been over a hundred pounds in her life, and she was under eighty by the time she moved in with me.

She liked to play at fainting, as I discovered that one hot, sunny day while we were out shopping. I think she enjoyed being perceived as weak; it gave her control over others. She certainly had me in the palm of her hand, and when she feigned illness in public, people fawned over her, did things for her, petted and soothed her. I suppose for someone like Tracy, the adoration of one doting boyfriend can never be enough. Tracy needed the whole world to adore her. For the most part, people regarded her with indifference, suspicion, disgust, or pity; but when she swooned, it was all solicitousness and kindness.

Now that we lived together and worked together, I almost never spent time away from her, and Tracy liked it that way. She was jealous and territorial to the point of irrationality, but I was so hypnotized by her that I didn't care. I'd do anything for her, anything to mollify her, anything to reassure her that I wanted no one else- because I didn't. Truly, normal female bodies had lost their appeal for me. I craved Tracy's bones and concave stomach; the music of her ribcage juxtaposed with her incongruous fake breasts, so round and large they looked to topple her frail body; and the poetry of the lines in her face defying the huge, dark pools of her eyes. Her collar bones haunted my dreams. Her proximity to me was inversely proportional to my ability to concentrate on anything else. I don't think she knew the extent of her sway over me. Or perhaps she did, but she was still too insecure to be satisfied.

We clung to each other. It was practically obscene. You would think that two people would get sick of being around one another constantly, all day, every day, but even after three months of flirting and trading lewd stares at work all day and fucking like animals at night, showering together and eating together (or not eating, as it were), Tracy and I never got sick of each other.

Our one year anniversary was approaching. One year since she'd fucked me at my desk the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago, or just yesterday. The time had slipped by so fast, yet who was that man named Jack that did not know this girl Tracy? I didn't know him any more. Tracy had inextricably woven herself into the fabric of my being. I thought of her all day, even as I looked at her through my office window, and I wanted nothing more than to please her. We worked hard; she to keep her job and I to please my boss so that I could earn more and buy her more nice things. I surprised her with jewelry that I bought on my lunch break. I took her clothes shopping almost every weekend. I spent hours watching her try on clothes, and still more hours with her at the tailor, who reluctantly fitted each garment to cling lovingly to Tracy's emaciated body.

On our one-year anniversary, of course, I took her out to celebrate. I lavished her with a disgustingly large bouquet of three hundred and sixty-five roses in a dazzling array of colors. She wore an elegant white silk gown that hugged her breasts appreciatively and swallowed the rest of her body. She ate a salad without dressing and we drank champagne. Just one glass went straight to her head and made her cheeks flush.

I asked her to marry me. She cried out "Yes!" so loudly that the restaurant went silent, and then broke out in a smattering of confused applause as she sobbed and I slipped the ring on her finger. It was too big, of course, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. She threw her tiny arms around my neck and pressed her tits into me and I folded her frail body in my arms. She was shaking. I kissed her deeply and she stroked my face with her small fingers, devouring my affection.

We did not linger at the restaurant long after that. Tracy's foot slipped out of its shoe and caressed my ankle teasingly, which, of course, gave me a raging boner. The tension between us was palpable and had hung there all day. Work had been too busy for any trysts in the janitor's closet or behind my desk. It had been several months since I had had to wait for Tracy for very long. Waiting the whole day was practically unheard of now. It had been over twelve hours since we'd done anything more than kiss and subtly grope and I was so horny for her that when I felt her cold little toe through my sock I wanted to throw the whole damn table aside, tear off her dress, and fuck her in the middle of the restaurant.

As it was, I settle for kissing and stroking her hand as we waited for the check. I hailed a cab and we got in. I pulled Tracy into my lap and kissed her hard, squarely on the mouth. Then I showered her bare shoulders with kisses, my strong hands caressing her body through the silk gown. She moaned and melted, running her fingers weakly through my hair as her body shook with pleasure and longing.

The cab driver smirked at us in the rear view, and the cab slowed to a crawl behind an endless string of brake lights. I glanced out the window, barely cognizant of what was happening as I buried my face in Tracy's impossible cleavage, dragging my tongue across the shallow furrows of her sternum. With one arm, I held her to me so tightly that now I was shaking and already leaking a bit of pre-come in my boxers. With the other arm, I sorted through what seemed like miles of silk, finally negotiating with the dress to maneuver my hand between Tracy' legs. Her pussy was already hot and slick with her wetness. Two of my fingers slid easily into her cunt and she moaned again, low and loud, arching her back and biting my neck as her little arms held on to me for dear life. My thumb pressed into her clit and she stifled a cry. I pressed her clit harder and made a gentle pumping, and she moaned in sync with the touches, while my fingers made a "come hither" motion.

I started to fingerfuck her, maintaining pressure on her clit with my thumb as my fingers moved in and out. Her moans rose in pitch until she was almost crying and could not keep herself from saying, "Fuck! Fuck me, yeah, Jack, mmm, fuck!" I wanted to eat her pussy, but we were too cramped in the back seat of the cab. I started rubbing her clit in circular motions and for an instant she went rigid and held her breath, her fingers digging in to my neck. I persisted, and she began gasping with each inhalation and moaning a high, soft moan with each exhalation, and by now her nails would have drawn blood from my neck had she the strength to do it.

The cab driver was now watching intently with his dick in his hand, slowly pumping up and down. Traffic was still at a crawl and I presume he had nothing better to do. If anything, his presence intensified my lust because she was mine- this incredible, beautiful, exquisite, delicate creature was all mine. Let him watch and jerk off; at least he appreciated her like I did, he could never touch her. Truly, I'd probably kill him if he tried.

I paused, kissing Tracy's bare, corded neck tenderly, and withdrew my fingers from her pussy.

"Don't-" she begged, her weak breath catching in her throat, "Oh jesus, Jack, please-" And so, never able to resist her demands for long, I ran my fingers along her labia and once again plunged them in to her hot pussy. She sighed in contentment, bucking her hips appreciatively as I once more began to caress the swollen nub of her clitoris. Her voice once more began to rise and fall, occasionally cooing my name, but mostly filling the cab with the music of her ecstatic moaning and panting. I withdrew my fingers from her vagina and massaged her clitoris between my thumb and forefinger, back and forth, then I pressed more firmly with all four fingers and rubbed clockwise, counterclockwise, switching every few seconds. Tracy was crying out and the cab driver was enraptured. They came at the same time, Tracy with a yell of ecstasy and the cab driver with an unceremonious grunt.

Tracy was a puddle in my arms, frail and vulnerable and so weak. I held her close and tight, my erection still straining against my pants. I had been so absorbed in pleasing her that I had nearly forgotten about myself, although gratifying her like that in front of a stranger was almost enough to give me a hands-free orgasm. I was close to coming myself, but I loved the tension and the feeling of holding my fragile darling in my lap, cradling her languid body to my chest with one of her bony hips digging in to my crotch. She knew that I was still hard. One of her spindly hands caressed my chest, her finger still trembling too much to unbutton my shirt. Watching her shaking and struggling with the buttons was almost enough, at this point, to push me over the edge... almost. With an effort, she leaned up and kissed my neck, stroking my hard nipples through my dress shirt. As her body squirmed and she struggled for a good position to kiss me, her insubstantial ass ground against my dick. I had had a half-chub for the better part of the day and all through dinner, and for the last thirty minutes or so an erection so powerful it almost hurt. My dick was so sensitive that her squirming was enough. Now it was my turn to moan helplessly as she caressed my chest and, struggling to kiss my neck, her hipbones pressed and released and pressed and released my dick against my leg. It was the least dignified orgasm I was ever going to have, except the cab had started moving again and then stopped outside the apartment building just before I would've come.

"No fare. Thanks for the show," the cab driver said, simultaneously laughing and leering. We thanked him hastily and got out of the cab. I practically had to carry Tracy to the elevator. Once inside, she pushed me up against the wall and pressed her body to me, apparently recovered from the punishment I gave her in the cab and ready for more. She kissed me, I kissed back, wrapping my arms around her shoulders, enveloping her, one hand stroking the prominence of the vertebrae that studded her back at the base of her neck. She moaned appreciatively and the elevator dinged. She turned, grabbing my hand, and led me in a daze to the apartment. Once the front door closed, my lust took over and I lost all control. I had been such a good boy all day, only jerking off once in the morning. I had grown accustomed to near-constant fucking, and now a whole day's worth of come and sexual tension had built up and was about to explode.

I pulled her to me and assaulted her mouth with mine while I unzipped her carefully tailored dress down the back. The dress fell to the floor and she was naked underneath, of course, a woman of Tracy's physicality doesn't need a bra and she knew I loved it when she wore no panties. Still kissing her, I shrugged off my jacket and ripped off my own shirt. Buttons popped off and clattered to the floor and I tossed the ruined garment aside, fumbling with my trousers. Tracy pushed me on to the couch and obliged to take the offending pants off for me, then my boxers, finally freeing my poor, neglected, slightly sticky cock from its confines. She attacked my dick with the same animal lust I felt for her, taking it in her mouth and fearlessly sliding it down her throat.

I couldn't help bucking my hips as she bobbed her head up and down, and she gagged, backing off to cough and tremble with a hand resting on my knee. But I couldn't take it, I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled her up on to the couch and laid her down, spreading her thin legs with my hands, then I shoved my throbbing cock inside her tightness. I thrusted hard, Tracy wailing incoherently as I pummeled her swollen pussy. I wanted to fuck her for hours, but in truth, I only lasted a few minutes. I couldn't help myself; I thrust as hard and deep as I could with Tracy's legs draped over my shoulders, bouncing on my back with each thrust. I came forcefully, crying out her name as I collapsed beside her on the sofa.

She snuggled against me for warmth, her nipples erect against the chill of the room and her nakedness. I snaked my arms around her and drew her close, kissing her platinum blonde hair. There was a blanket on the far end of the sofa, but I was loathe to move at that moment. I just wanted to hold her.

"I... adore you," I murmured, suddenly deeply moved to tell her, and I didn't know why. "I worship you. If there is a hell, I am going there, because I will never be as devoted to any god as I am to you."

"Oh, Jack," she sighed, nuzzling my neck. "We're perfect for each other."