Cat on the Fence III

Vincent made his ingress upon the point of no return. As he unbuttoned the woman’s jeans, slipped a hand down the front of her, and raked his middle finger along her dampened underwear, he found he could barely manage to stifle a low groan. His heart sunk as she gripped his arm for dear life.

Ignoring the pull of reason, he indulged the desire he had no strength to turn from; slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear, traced her length, and began ringing the devil's doorbell. “Do you feel that?” his words came in a groan.

Blue’s head hung forward. She felt far too shy to acknowledge the erection that pressed so gruesomely into her ass… Despite the fact he had his hand in her pants. “What?”

“You know what, Blue,” Suddenly, his hand left her. And Blue failed to stifle a begging whimper. “Look at me,” Eagerly, she spun to face the man, completely oblivious to the fact that her gut would be hanging from her trousers and she felt as though she was about to soak entirely through her jeans. Suddenly, he thrust his hand between them, and she hadn’t the mind to care if it was the very one that had been all but inside of her. “‘Vincent, pleasure to meet you,” and as she hesitantly clasped her hand with his, he tugged her flush against himself and pressed her mouth in the most firm, intense kiss she’d yet to experience. She almost collapsed at his feet.

Blue choked out the very words she’d thought her self-respect would stifle. “Fuck me,” and tangled her arms invitingly around the man’s neck before she could think any better of it.

Vincent acted before he could revel in the sheer insanity of what he was doing—too fast to bask in the impulsiveness and risk of the moment. In mere moments, she’d kicked her shoes off; he’d tugged her jeans to her ankles; slipped his hands beneath her knees; set her atop the balcony railing she was far too distracted to worry about giving way. And pushed inside of her so cruelly.

She gasped, inhaled sharply, hummed lowly into the man’s parted lips. Pinched his sides with her knees as his trousers flattened against the insides of her bare thighs. Let her eyes shut as he rested inside of her. Wondered why it didn’t hurt to be with him like it had any other man. Tried her best to pretend she knew what she was doing.

The driveway winding behind her back two storeys below, wind bracing her bare ass and metal cool against her skin, she felt no fear of being tossed half-naked over the edge. She melted in the embrace of the man she knew only a name for. His hands so gentle while pinning her knees to his sides. Stubble so coarse against the skin of her cheek as his lips twisted with her own. All thoughts about Richard and the gangbang and a half waiting for her downstairs were expelled with each gasping breath. She tugged the man closer. Hated that she’d already fallen in love with his mystery.

As his lips bowed to her neck and his nose rubbed her jaw, she surrendered to the pull that tugged at her insides and rocked her hips against his. Groaned rather loudly. Found herself mewling brokenly again and again as he advanced on her sex. Roughly. Slowly.

Teeth grazing her chin, her hands wrapping through his hair as though afraid he’d send her to her death, he muttered few words bitterly into her neck. “Keep your damn mouth shut or we’ll both have some explaining to do,” and then pressed his mouth into her own almost tenderly. Affectionately. Blue nodded stiffly. “Good girl.”

And with that, he curled over the woman; tucked her head beneath his chin, and buried his nose in her tousled hair. Her head spun. Her stomach yet tightened. He made her feel strange things that completely consumed her.

She hadn’t yet completely accepted the fact she was making love to the strange man she’d stared at all night long over the edge of a balcony for the whole world to see. Instead, her thoughts were filled with those of lust and the growing despair that filled her guts and numbed her toes with its closeness. Drawing her into the depths. Completely animalistic. So she tugged at his hair, urging the man on. And he pressed into her roughly.

It happened in seconds, she’d held her breath as each thrust hardened and screwed her eyes shut to hold at bay the crude exclamations she needed to scream. Clutched at his sides. Pulled his hair. Seized his shoulders. Gasped in disbelief…

Finally, she exhaled slowly, forehead pressing into the man’s chest urgently and knees jerking shyly. And as the force of her climax flooded her stomach and slackened her body, she felt her grip falter. Vincent drove the girl into the nearby wall.

For the first time, she felt completely at peace. Listening to the man’s half-silent grunts as he shielded her from the world, body coiled around hers, shoulders caging her so carefully against the wall. Each shaky push of his hips into her own drawing her further and further from the sad reality that had become her adulthood. It frightened her; the fondness she could feel for a person after a minute of talking and three minutes of pure ecstasy.

Yet as she recoiled from his chest in search of even slight distance, he cradled the side of her face in his hand. Pressed his mouth to hers as he had. Groaned lowly into her kiss. Filled her with his own spend.

She softened to the stranger again.

He moved gently.

Slowly, they parted. He buckled his trousers, clothed her, pinned her between himself and the railing as he had before and began to gently smooth over her hair as though he hadn’t just fucked her senseless. And out of it all, the one part she had a hard time accepting was how good it felt.