In the House of Spite

When Darren was finally well again, when he said he could walk the dogs and go to the gym, Pearl knew it was time for her to go. To her blushing delight, Darren handed her an extra two hundred dollars. He said it was extra pay for nursing him. That wasn't in her job description, but she'd done it anyway. Normally, she'd refuse that, but she thought she'd earned it.

Once Pearl was settled in her parents' house again, Mama told her that Mrs. Booker wanted to talk to her. Mama gave Pearl the number and smiled.

On the phone, Mrs. Booker told Pearl just how happy she was to know that her boy had been so well cared for. She even offered to take Pearl out for lunch. "No, Ma'am," Pearl said. "Mr. B's already compensated me. He insisted. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"You sure, Honey?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Pearl nodded to nobody. "I'm fine. Don't worry."

That phone call had certainly made Pearl's heart feel much lighter, not that she'd been feeling heavy.

The next time Pearl came in to work, Gunner greeted her with a short lick on her hand. "Hey there, Sweetie." She took one of his pointy ears in her fingers and gave it a rub. "How's your Daddy doing?"

Gunner turned around and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

What a handsome baby.

Pearl slipped out of her shoes and took off her coat.

Wait.

The tapping and clattering of dishes.

The sound and smell of sizzling meat.

Something sweet too.

What kind of fuckery was this?!

Frowning, Pearl went in to discover Darren cooking up stuff. The thickest slabs of bacon she'd ever seen, French toast, cinnamon rolls cooling to the side, and buttery scrambled eggs mixed with vegetables and sausage slices. It was ridiculous.

And messy.

When Pearl cooked, she liked to clean as she went. Wipe up a spill here. Sweep up a crumb there. That sort of thing. This kitchen was in chaos. Darren must've been the type to clean up after everything else was done.

Gunner went off to where Baby Blue was. The Pit Bull was finishing up his food. Gunner wasn't done. He went over to his own bowl to work on that.

"Uhm ... hi." Pearl loosely folded her arms on a counter. "You're up early."

His black jeans were just slimming enough to put an air of gracefulness in his figure. His red flannel shirt was tucked in, and there was a plain but stylish belt. Pearl didn't think there was anything wrong with mentally admitting that he looked nice. He smiled at her as he turned off the stove's burners and started setting plates. "Good morning! I hope you didn't eat a big breakfast."

"Oh! Uhm ... wow." She didn't know what the acceptable thing to say was. "That's very sweet. What's the occasion?"

"There isn't any." He carried two rather heavy plates over to the kitchen table. Then he went to the fridge. "Sit down."

Putting her purse on one of the few clean spots on the counters, Pearl tried to keep her steps steady and her voice calm. "Alright? I mean, I had some cereal before I came here but I do come from a family of big eaters."

He was pouring milk into tall glasses and grinning. "That's good. I can't stand it when people starve themselves." The glasses were put on the table. His long fingers reminded Pearl of tree branches against a backdrop of snow.

They dug into their food quite enthusiastically. Gunner lingered for a while, sitting nearby and watching the people eat. It was as if he expected something. Did he even know what he was expecting? Perhaps he felt a the same as Pearl. The routine was off, and he didn't know why. So, he wanted more information.

"So ... uhm, you know how to cook," Pearl said, mostly keeping her eyes on the food.

"Comes with being grown." He was in a really damn good mood.

"I guess so." She put some of the toast in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed, all while making happy little humming noises.

Once breakfast was done, and their bellies had settled, Pearl asked where the punch clock was. She needed to start cleaning up, and she'd refuse to do so without being clocked in.

Darren's response was a firm but jaunty demand. "Let's go in the living room. I need to talk to you." His fingertips tapped the tabletop and then he got up. Pearl snatched up her old purse and followed him out the kitchen. Her calf muscles felt a bit prickly, like they could sense that a time for running was nigh. But Pearl wasn't sure. Why would she need to run? This was a safe place, a welcoming place.

In the living room, Darren sat down on the couch. Pearl stood before him for a moment, her hands holding each other. The man patted the couch's supportive back and told her to sit down. Okay. That was fine. Pearl sat down and put her purse on a coffee table.

The way he was looking down at her ...

Pearl's nails dug into her jeans. She felt the scratching.

Darren's pupils were dilated. His whole body was turned towards her. His lips were only just parted. Both of his hands went for one of hers, and he clasped her fairly tightly.

She had to swallow something. What exactly, she wasn't sure, but she gulped it down.

His eyelids lowered along with his voice. "Pearl, do you have any idea how important you've become?"

That ... was the weirdest question she'd ever heard. She blinked and blinked, smog overflowing in her mind, slowing down her thoughts. But, silly as this was, she wondered if she had a disorder that stopped her from understanding social cues or hidden meanings.

"Uhm ... what do you mean?"

She felt the long fingernails on his right hand oh so gently graze her. It tickled. She flinched and made a squeaky noise in her throat.

"Come on. It's pretty damn obvious, isn't it?"

Gunner interrupted the scene by walking in and yawning. Darren looked at him and rather emphatically said, "Get!" That was short for get out. Gunner got up and went off somewhere, probably to hang out with Baby Blue.

Once more focused on Pearl, Darren tilted forward, just enough to make her silently question him. She even started to wonder if she needed to lean backwards. It was getting a little bit difficult to keep her neck craned.

"I want you. I've wanted you for so long." Was that a dimple in his cheek? "Don't you want me too?"

Something in Pearl's mind had apparently been stretched to its limit, because it snapped and burned her. Her eyes popped so much that it gave her a headache. She pried his hands off of her and basically jumped off the couch. "No!!" She grabbed her purse and repeated the word. "No!!"

Darren's jaw dropped but he quickly put it back in place. "What do you mean?" His tone lowered and so did his visible mood. "I thought you felt the same."

So much blood flooded in her skin, reddening her face, her ears, her hands, and probably her feet. Her feet certainly did feel like they were blushing.

And ... other parts, secret hidden parts, they throbbed a little.

"Doesn't matter!" She made an X shape with her arms then swung her arms out. "None of that matters. You're my boss! I won't do that with my boss! It's a good way to screw my money up!"

He recovered, smirking, and he stood up, towering over her again. "Then the only solution is to fire you." His hands went to his hips.

A pause.

Her purse fell to the carpet.

Pearl's fingers flexed. Open, then fist. Open, then fist. Her breath was slow and incensed. Her eyes were pointed at Darren's knees, but she didn't see them. Instead, she saw a whirlwind of scarlet.

Then her face froze.

She walked away.

He called out to her. She didn't understand him. Her ears were too full of blood and vinegar for her to understand. She went all the way to the kitchen. She gripped the back of a dining chair. Then she picked it up and carried it all the way back to the living room, where Darren stood, his long arms loose at his sides, his eyebrows high.

Right in front of him, there's where Pearl set the dining chair. The back was turned away from her. So, when she climbed up, her feet on the seat, her hands took their support on that back. Even with the chair's assistance, Pearl was unable to get to an even position with the man, but it was still much easier to meet his eyes than before.

As she'd done quite a few times before, Pearl surrendered the wrath.

"YOU LOOK BIG BUT DEEP DOWN YOU'RE A WEAK ASS BITCH!! YOUR EMPLOYEE SAYS NO TO YOUR COCK AND YOU GET SO BUTTHURT THAT YOU JUST FIRE HER?! WHAT KINDA PETTY ASS SHIT IS THAT?! WELL GOOD LUCK FINDING ANOTHER PERSON TO COME IN EARLY AND DO ALL THE WORK I DO WITHOUT BITCHING!! HELL, GOOD LUCK FINDING SOMEONE YOU CAN TRUST TO NOT STEAL YOUR SHIT!! YOU ASSHOLE!! YOU STUPID, WEAK-MINDED, TWISTED CUNT!! WHEN YOUR DOGS START WHINING BECAUSE THEY MISS ME, DON'T FUCKING CALL ME!! DON'T EVER CALL ME!! I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOUR STUPID ASS!! I'M GOING TO FUCK OFF AND YOU NEED TO DO THE SAME!!"

Pearl felt so much better after that. Like a tender, heavy pimple that just needed to be popped to release the pressure.

Darren's face wilted.

Pearl climbed down the chair.

And suddenly, she needed to cry. She tried to hold it in as she got her purse. But the urge was too intense. The tears leaked out. Sniffing, choking down her moans, Pearl tried to hurry away. She thought she needed to leave, leave and never come back. And she'd be damned if he saw her cry over ...

Over realizing he wasn't what she thought he was, what she'd so admired, what she wanted him to be.

He was an ass.

"Pearl!"

Wiping an eye, she hissed out, "Fuck off!"

Her knees pretty much said, "Yeah, no. I give up."

She was kneeling. Her purse flopped to the floor as she trembled and wailed.

Leave and never come back.

A loss of income.

A loss of ...

That way of life. The routine, the excitement, the doggos, Darren's unjustly handsome face.

She felt destitute.

Those familiar, thunking steps, their weight stomping into the floor sent waves to her legs. "I'm sorry,' he said. Pearl heard his jeans crinkle and stretch. She felt his heat behind her. "I didn't think that through."

Enfolding from behind, his arms came, but Pearl still cried.

"I thought if I wasn't your boss anymore," Darren said, "you'd let me take care of you."

Yeah right, as if she'd believe something like that!

"It's not fair!" Breathing through the nose wasn't much of an option. She gasped a lot. "You're an asshole! I don't have the right to want you! I'm supposed to be better than that!" She had to catch her breath and make a few leaden sniffs and snorts. "I'm not supposed to think about you that way! I'm supposed to have self-control!"

And yet ...

She didn't fight him off.

In fact, her hands slid over his arms. Then she was wrapping her own arms with him.

"I wish I could just forget my ego," she muttered. "I want ... I just want to be stupid and want you."

Maybe to him, that was all she needed to say.

When he let her go just long enough to turn her body around, all she could think of was rubbing her face with her sleeve as a child might do. Then those thoughts were thrown aside as something new came to her.

Pressure on her back.

Slightly lifted.

Mouth to mouth. Dawdling tastes and scents of food. Savory and sweet. Comforting, domestic, like a lazy weekend with bright weather and some News stuff playing on a screen. Like the almost far off noise of a riding mower. Clean sheets in bed, snuggling and trying to remember the faint traces of a happy dream. A bedroom door opening to peaceful excitement.

Pearl's jaw was too distracted, too weakened by the gentle glee, to stop the sudden tongue pressing past her lips and teeth. Instead of panic or indignation, a malleable feeling was there. Pearl's eyes were closed.

Up.

Up!

She clung to him. She would've dangled if he hadn't held her so well. Even through her pants, she savored the warmth from his hands.

Away, off and away. Up the stairs. Wet kisses. Growls and heavy sighs from his body flooding into hers.

A puff of air and a similar noise, her back against a mattress, feeling a now well-known comforter. Smacking lips on her throat.

Her head tilted back. She gasped and whined. This was something she hadn't felt in a long time, and it was wonderful.

His voice, his commanding voice, he used for two contradictory things. Cursing, and complimenting her. "Fucking gorgeous. Damn you smell so good!" Those sorts of words and phrases. Whenever he sounded like he was yelling, Pearl would flinch, but regardless her thighs pressed together and her cunt oozed.

Darren sunk his right hand under her shirt. He found her small breasts very easily. He kissed her neck again. "You don't wear bras, huh?"

Her head turned to one side. Her voice was meek. "N ... No?"

"That's so fucking hot."

His calluses thrilled her with their thick, coarse texture as he pulled her top over her head. Off to the underworld, that might as well be where the top went.

Darren crawled down a little. She heard and felt it. Her fingers dipped into his soft hair as his hot lips closed around a nipple. Her fingertips pressing on his scalp, Pearl let out a delicate squeal. The zinging feeling was hovering on a blade's edge, not painful at all but still so acute.

His lips floated away for a moment as he asked, "Oh, did you like that?"

"Hnnnnn ... yes."

A grunt and he was suckling her, pulling on her nerves, making her nipple feel longer than it was, and making her whole breast feel adored. Her socks swiped around on the bed. She nearly pulled on Darren's hair, but she managed to stop herself even as she whimpered.

Darren separated his mouth from her breast and his hair from her fingers. He got on his knees to pinch and grab her pants' waistband, the panties too.

Skin scraping against skin.

The warmed interior air met her legs, thighs, and her flushed little vulva. Quite nervously, those muscles between her inner thighs contracted.

He even took off her socks, and much to her unexpected joy, he ran his hands on her ankles, where the socks had left uncomfortable imprints. If she knew how to purr, she'd have done so. She could only sigh, moan, and curl her toes.

A short laugh near her knee.

"Honey! Your feet are almost as rough as mine!"

A flash of insecurity made her pout and turn her head to one side.

"Ohhhhh, Poor Baby. It's okay. You just need someone to take care of you."

His left hand hooking under her knee, he bent over her to kiss her belly, which made that belly retract out of pure instinct.

"You're a sweet little thing," he said as he pushed himself down, kneeling on the floor but still keeping close to the mattress. With his grip on her leg, he dragged her backside to the edge.

She put a hand on her mouth.

The long nails of his right hand drew thin, invisible lines on one leg while his other hand slid down to her inner thigh. His breath puffed over her tender labia.

Pearl almost bit the inside of her cheek.

"Do you want my tongue, Baby Girl?"

"Ah! I ...?" She didn't feel comfortable answering that, as unreasonable as the logic might've been.

The long nails were now playing in her mons, stroking the skin, crinkling the hair. As she kicked the air, she heard him say in a very demanding, guttural tone, "Fucking answer me!"

That made her pant out, "Hahhh! Yes! Please?!"

"Good Girl."

He didn't just put his tongue there. He fucking sucked her cunt lips into his mouth while humming and growling. It was loud, sloppy, and completely unromantic.

Pearl was beguiled.

Her spine curved as she mewled.

Darren was content to lick and suck at her for a while. Then he let his tongue dip inside as far as he could go in something similar to a messy kiss. His rough fingers explored around her thighs, sometimes massaging and sometimes barely skating.

At some points, he paused just long enough to mutter a charming little thing. "Tastes so good. Fuck. Think you might cum for me? God damn it, Little Girl." Those kinds of things. When he focused on her clitoris, sucking and lapping, Pearl lost her mind. She thrashed around. She would've bounced off the bed if Darren hadn't been keeping her in place.

There wasn't anything else but pleasure in her brain.

By the time she'd finally left the haze, when she was limp and struggling to breathe, she realized her wet pussy was cooling a bit. Darren wasn't touching her anymore.

There were the sounds of a belt being undone, then jeans and likely underwear shoved down. Pearl's eyes darted over to see him opening a nightstand's drawer. A fresh and pretty big box of condoms was taken out. He tore the plastic wrap away, then tugged the cardboard lid up and fished inside. Pearl shut her eyes again when she heard the thing being torn out. She was able to put together a thought.

The man still had a bit of wisdom in him.

"Don't you worry, Baby." She heard the man get up to his feet. Then some swiping fabric, and he put a pillow under her hips. "I won't let anything bad happen."

Is that so?

A coy smile on her pink face, Pearl sat up a bit. First, she looked up at his confident, fierce expression. Then she looked down to his thick thighs and ...

Her breathing was disrupted. Her heart skipped a pulse.

How in the ever loving fuck did this giant find a condom that could fit him?!

"Shit!!" Pearl kicked herself away kind of like a crab. Then she flipped over and tried to get away. "You'll kill me!"

He laughed, and he simply took her ankles and pulled her right back to him, even back onto the pillow. "That pretty thing's made for birthing babies and taking cock," here, as his expression turned quite victorious, he put his left hand on her lower belly and lightly pressed down, "and you're sure as fuck not giving birth."

For the first five seconds, Pearl's eye were wide and her teeth gnashed together because it felt like she was being branded.

Right after those five seconds, something happened. It wasn't the first time it had happened, thankfully. Pearl's sex life used to be pretty nice.

Loose and intoxicated. Lost. Pearl was a cooing, drooling, wild yet passive creature. It might've been a little selfish, behaving like an unusually loud rag doll while the other partner worked so hard, but Pearl couldn't care any less about it.

Every. Single. Movement. As slow as they were inside, they felt amazing.

Darren was saying something. She didn't understand him. But when the thrusts stopped, when he seemed frozen in her, Pearl cried out and begged him to keep going. His nails moved up her thigh as he looked down at her. His nose wrinkled.

"Hey," he said, "does it feel good?"

"Hmmm!" She was raking her fingers on the comforter. "Yes! Please!"

He grinned. Then he gripped her hips better and adjusted them, making him seem to penetrate deeper. Pearl yelled so loudly that she almost didn't hear him when he said, "Then you fuck right back at me."

He wanted her to move her hips better! She could do that! She'd be glad to! And so she did. She rocked her hips towards each tight thrust and didn't care how much she thought she'd die from it.

"That's it! Cum! Cum on my cock!"

Damn, it was so good, and Pearl was so gone, that she didn't even know she was cumming, didn't even know that her pussy was dripping and pulsing, didn't even know how hard her breasts bounced or how her throat burned. Her breath was so fast that it hurt. She soon couldn't keep up with it.

Her head felt hollow ...

Darkness ...

"Shit ... are you okay? Baby?"

Pearl felt that she was still on the bed, but being held against Darren's chest. She knew it was him. She'd heard and smelled him. He was still wearing his clothes.

Curious, she flopped her hand down and found that although the belt was gone, he'd pulled his pants up.