Elise didn't want to move. The feeling of Jax lodged inside her like that — the feeling of being stretched so tight around him, feeling every vein of his fat cock was like nothing she'd ever felt before. She never wanted it to end. His weight atop her, the feeling of being covered by him, dominated and yet protected at the same time... He was stroking her hair, kissing the back of her head — but he had his cock buried in her asshole, the one place she was so sure she'd never let anyone go. The one taboo she was sure she'd never break. Now, laid out underneath this beautiful man, feeling his cock slowly, slowly soften, she could feel her conquered asshole gripping at him still.
She would never be the same again. And she couldn't go through her life without feeling that sensation again. She was broken now — broken in. Her asshole clenched again at its invader, as it slipped a tiny bit from her, softening further. It was a strange feeling, spread so wide for a man she hadn't known even an hour ago, his cock lodged in her most sacred place, looking at the art he'd made of her panties. Of her.
Suddenly, his cock slipped all the way out — as if expelled — and she felt Jax kiss his way down her spine. 'So beautiful,' he breathed. 'You are a work of art, Elise.'
'I am now,' she replied, turning to see his smile.
'They are lovely, aren't they,' he said moving to admire her panties, now transformed into a painting. 'You're lovely.'
Elise turned, and moved to sit on the table, allowing her legs to come together gingerly, and dangle over the edge of the table. 'Do you think...'
'Do I think what?' Jax's face had the almost boyishly contented look of what she'd seen so often — a man after sex. After he'd exploded inside her. After she'd milked a huge jet of cum from his balls.
She tilted her head. She didn't want to have to say it.
He smiled. A full smile. And Elise thought for a second he would come to her again. Spread her legs wide again, make her accommodate him. But he didn't. 'Yes,' he reached out and stroked her cheek. 'I think it's very fine. And very original. You are an incredible subject, Elise. I never thought...' And then in a flash he turned from her, striding ass-naked back across the studio.
Elise crossed her legs, thinking to put clothes back on — somehow stupidly self-conscious now that he wasn't there with her. He returned almost immediately though — checkbook in hand. 'I know I mentioned an advance...'
'I... you don't have to...' Yes he did! What the fuck was wrong with her? She needed the money so badly, but him offering it — he'd only just been inside her...
I told you she was the biggest slut in school.
'I do have to,' he said, and placed the checkbook on the table. 'I think our art will draw an excellent price — though I can't guarantee it. And I'm good for my word — you will receive 10% of the purchase price.'
Elise felt ridiculous talking money stark naked. She pushed herself off the table and moved to the Chesterfield, slipping her summer dress back over her head — this time she
would
have to go without panties. She turned back to face him, feeling slightly more comfortable, though he was still buck naked. 'Come on, Jax, let's be real. I'll leave here and never hear from you again.'
'No — I certainly hope not.' He moved back towards her. In his left hand was a business card. 'All my details are on here. You have my phone number, and I have yours. I am good to my word, Elise. And...' and there was a moment's hesitation, 'and I would like to see you again.'
'I would too,' she managed. Struck yet again by the impossible shade of blue in his eyes.
'What will you take as a downpayment?'
Elise looked into his eyes. 'I trust you,' she said.
'Thank you,' his whole face smiled, even his eyes. 'But we had agreed terms. Name your price.'
She hesitated. She had to pay the fucking rent. That was how... how she'd come to be here. How she'd come to... be in all those situations... Two weeks late on a month's rent. Two thousand dollars, and halfway to another two. But he couldn't get... Twenty thousand dollars for her panties, could he? Even with the stunning butterfly on them...
This, she realised was where she was not nearly so much the empowered entrepreneur as she liked to think. She was good at the work, terrible at the business... Asking this guy for money felt like getting him to rate her pussy out of ten. It felt dirty. Slutty and disgusting and cheap. But fuck it — she was all of those things. 'Two thousand,' she said, going for confidence and only sounding more like a hooker. She met his eyes, shaking, everything inside her wanted to add, 'Would that be okay?' But she didn't. She wouldn't let herself. If she was going to be a slut, if she was going the be a fucking whore, at least she would be a self-possessed one.
Jax held her eyes a full second. Two. But then, just when she expected anger, she saw pleasure. He bent and wrote out the check. Then assuredly ripped it off and handed it to her.
Elise didn't understand. A joke? 'Four thousand?'
'It's conservative, I think. These will draw a very high price. And if they don't, I will keep them myself — and four thousand would be money well spent.'
'I...'
'I'm sorry it has to be a check. I don't have that much on me. But the bank will... I made it out to cash.'
'Thank you,' Elise managed. Her heart was thumping in her chest. Her asshole was still throbbing, her pussy still electrified by the hotness of the entire situation. But the feeling of almost fantastical relief was overpowering everything. She could pay rent. The fucking landlord could suck one.
Jax just smiled his boyish grin again. 'I must thank you, Elise. You are the finest muse I've ever had. And I only hope I get the chance to paint you again,' he said.
'And to fuck me,' Elise added, returning his smile.
'And to fuck you like crazy,' he laughed. And for a moment they were both just standing there, the late afternoon sun streaming across the floor between them. 'Like a shower?' he said, breaking the tension.
'No, I...' and suddenly she wanted to go. To be home. To take stock of everything that had happened. She couldn't even comprehend all the crazy things she'd let happen to her today. So many things she'd never even imagined, never dared contemplate... And all on the same day. Jesus. 'I should go,' she said, quickly. Slipping her feet into her pumps and grabbing her bra.
He was still naked, his cock still red, her dried juices streaked along his shaft. 'You're welcome to —'
'No, I really should —'
'Of course. Thank you, Elise.'
She smiled, then stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. 'Thank you, Jax.'
When Elise she reached the door, he was still standing there naked as Adam. That amused smile still on his face. She blew him a kiss, opened the door, and left.
And even as she took the stairs she was aware of the fact that she had no panties on, the breeze of her descent blowing up her skirt and playing at her still wet pussy lips. But she had the check in her hand. A thrill ran through her. She had a check for four thousand dollars!
At the bottom of the stairs, she quickly tugged the straps of her sundress down, slipped on her bra, then tucked the folded check into the left cup, and the business card into the right, before pulling the straps back over her shoulders. She smoothed her dress over her hips, as much to soothe her racing heart as anything, and strode down the corridor and out into the late afternoon — feeling sore but elated.
I told you, Stace, she's a total slut!
She had four thousand fucking dollars! An artist had made her his muse. Had found inspiration in her
panties
! Jesus, just the thought of it sent an electric shock through her pussy. He'd painted the little yellow panties Sondra had given her. God, could that even have been the same day?
As she walked, the breeze was toying at her hem, threatening to do more, and she was conscious of how much she must be screaming 'Just got fucked'. No-one would know Jax's monster cock had forced its way into her virgin asshole, and that she could still feel him there with every step she took, but still. She was doing the walk of shame, and she was sure people were looking at her different. She went to pull her sunglasses off her head — and even as she did she knew they weren't there. Fuck. She stopped. And then smiled. Four
thousand
dollars. They'd been knock-offs anyway.
Elise walked on, quickening her pace with every half block — she had to get home. She could feel cum dribbling out of her asshole, could feel drips trickling down her inner thighs. She must reek of it. She must look like a rag doll. And this goddam wind was gonna give people a show any fucking second.
But she had to cash that check.
What if it bounced? Was it all bullshit?
She felt like pulling the check out of her bra and studying it for some sort of mark of authenticity that she wouldn't be able to recognize anyway.
She got to the bank, but even as she watched an elderly woman make her way out, clutching her little handbag to herself in a way that made it obvious what was inside, Elise knew she couldn't go in. She couldn't cash four thousand dollars! She didn't have her purse, she didn't have anything. Was she gonna stash forty hundreds in her bra? Just hold it in her hand? Jesus. There were cum drips down the backs of her knees.
Okay, home. Shower. Handbag. Bank. Landlord.
Fine.
Elise's feet were throbbing as much as her asshole by the time she got home, but she got there. And inside, she kicked off her shoes, and even as she strode to the bathroom she was pulling the dress over her head. She only just caught herself from flinging her bra across the room, remembering their precious cargo just as she unclasped it, and emptying the check and card into her cups.
She put it all on the dining table and padded to the bathroom. She felt dirty. She felt
fucked
in a way she couldn't remember feeling before. Cum was dripping out of her asshole! And everything felt stretched and fucked and
taken
. She turned the taps on, and when it was steaming hot, got in and let the hard stream of hot water thrum on her back, her shoulders, and then her head till all sound was drowned out.
Cass said she fucked Bobby Jackson at the party! She's the easiest girl in school. People only hang out with her cos she's pretty.
She let the hot water run over her, and then lathered her hands in moisturizing soap. She ran them, smoothly, slowly, all over herself — her breasts, her arms, tummy, legs and face — leaving till last the places that needed it the most. She was almost scared what her fingers would find there. He'd been so big. He'd fucked her tiny little star — was it broken now? Was her pussy stretched out forever?
He'd stuck a paint brush handle inside her.
But everything was just as it had always been — tight and neat and smooth — just plastered with dried cum. As she ran her fingers over her tender skin, her mind went straight back to being laid out over Jax's table, his huge cock sawing in and out of her — when all she could do was let out little gasps of pleasure and try to push her ass back onto him further — would that feeling ever go away? Somehow, despite having cum a million times that day already, she could feel her pussy clinging at her fingers, wanting her to press them inside, open her up again. What the fuck was wrong with her? It was like she wanted to be open 24/7, like a fucking fast-food joint. Jesus.
She forced herself out of the shower, dried, and spent some time applying lotion into her skin. She still felt dirty, and the clean, feminine, innocent smell of the lavender felt as good as the smoothness it gave her skin — like she was rubbing some sort of healing ointment into herself.
But even as she savored the scent of innocence, she couldn't stop herself from drawing one manicured finger along her over-sensitized slit, immediately feeling it open for her, slick with juices. Jesus Chr —
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The front door. Oh holy fuck — the fucking landlord.
