Page 48 of Petrichor

I grip her wrist and drag her to my bedroom without a backward glance at Fly. I slam and lock the door behind me before opening my pants.

She gets the hint and falls on her knees with an eager smile. She pushes her dress down displaying her big tits to me, those rosy nipples are the right size to be sucked on. I push away the feeling ofwrongness that tries to sneak in and slide my thumb between her lips. She sucks on it immediately, twisting her tongue around the tip. She really knows what she’s here for. Good.

“I don’t swallow, but everything else is fair game,” she whispers sultrily, as she pulls me out of my boxer briefs. My cock is inexplicably soft. It can’t be the alcohol. In the past, I’ve fucked two, three women while I was totally wasted the same night. She doesn’t seem annoyed by it as she starts licking the head, letting out loud moans. My dick seems to finally get on board as it slowly starts to stiffen inside her wet mouth. I look at the reddish imprint of her lipstick on the base of my cock. It reminds me of the first time Fly blew me. Fly. Yesterday’s memory of the outline of my dick inside his throat as I drove deep turns me hard in half a second.

“Fuck, yeah, my pussy is dripping for you,” she slurs, licking her lips.

I grab her hair and push her mouth once again on my dick. I’m more than a little buzzed, the alcohol is dulling the sense of unsoundness I felt since I met her, as well as the urge to tell her to fuck off. Her hands are roaming all over my legs and ass as she keeps sucking me. My hips are still as I look at her bobbing her head and pumping the base with her fingers.

“Louder,” I order her. “Let me hear how much you like to suckdicks.” And as she does it, I hope Fly is listening. He needs to hear it. Needs to know he’s just another hole I use. He’s not my fucking wife, and he has to stop smiling at me so sweetly. He’s paying a debt. That’s all.

Cazzo, my dick is turning soft again. Her hair is too dark, too thin, too wavy. Eyes too small, too brown. Hate to see her fucking lipstick on my skin, and those fake moans she lets out. Fly never faked anything. He loves to be mouth fucked. Loves my dick.

I close my eyes, and a different scene spreads in front of me. Long, blond, soft hair like silk between my fingers. Watery, light blue-gray eyes begging me to take him. The slutty sounds he utters while he chokes on my entire length, tight, wet, and warm.

“Remove your hand and stay still,” I order her as I fuck her face with fast drives. She can barely take my whole size, but doesn’t seem to want to pull away. Two more hard pumps, and I let her go as I come withhisname screaming inside my head. She dodges the spurt and coughs before looking at me.

The sight of my jizz on the floor never bothered me before, but it does now, because Fly would have never wasted it. He makes sure to swallow every single drop, licking me clean every time until he falls asleep with my dick in his mouth.

Ma porca puttana! What the fuck am I doing?

“You could have warned me.” Her irritated statement reminds me of her presence.

“Take your shit and go.” I toss a fifty on the floor near her. “For the cab.”

“What? I thought that was just the start. I didn’t even come,” she complains as she stands up, but still grabs the money. Fly always comes from sucking my cock.

“Go back to the bar then.” I’m being my usual selfish asshole. But I never promised anything, and I can’t stand the sight of her. I need her gone. Now.

She grits her teeth, fixes her dress, and storms out of the room and then the penthouse.

Silence falls around me. Fly’s bedroom is closed, but I can see the light coming from under the door. What is he doing? Did he hear? Of course he did, I made sure of it. Fuck.

I force my body to turn around and go to the en suite bathroom. I toss my clothes on the floor and get inside the shower, sighing as I wash away the smell of her perfume clinging to me. I didn’t want her, even though she would’ve let me fuck her any way I pleased tonight.

I started getting hard while she was licking me, but the memory of Fly’s mouth was what made me leak pre-cum. What turned me hard as a rock. What made my blood boil. When I think about him, my desire seems to just explode out of me.

There’s no plausible explanation for tonight’s failure, other than I want him.

I want to fuck him and hear him scream my name, see him cry under me, begging me to stop and give it to him harder. My cock has turned stiff again under the falling water. And I huff at it.

I’ve fucked women’s asses before and I liked it, but it never tempted me to keep hooking up with the same person. On the contrary, I lost interest. Would it happen the same with Fly? Can I fuck him out of my system?

What the fuck am I thinking? I need to stop. I turn off the water and get myself in bed.

Fly doesn’t come to my room that night.

Chapter Seven

Marco

Iwake up the next morning feeling what I can only call antsy. I thought it was just the hangover at first, but the sensation lingers after I took some aspirin and spent the usual time in the home gym. The sight of Fly’s closed door after a shower only makes the feeling grow, even though I always leave the penthouse before he wakes.

Ahh! I don’t fucking do anxiety. I do anger which is what I also feel right now. Because he didn’t come to my bed yesterday. He didn’t come to me.

I wear the gray suit with a shirt in a lighter shade of the same color—now that I think about it, most days I’ve been matching my clothes following Fly’s suggestions. The mere thought makes me cringe. How much has he already affected my life in the course of a few weeks?

I stare at my reflection in the entrance mirror. Besides the tension in my jaw and the piss-off glint in my eyes, nothing betrays that I’m less than calm. But underneath the surface, a dormant monster is waiting to get out.

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