Page 1 of Most Of All

“Fuck!”Igrowldownat the bitch sucking down my cock. My hands grip her hair tight as I fuck her mouth. The harshness of my movements has mascara-stained tears descending down her face as she heaves and gags on my cock. But I couldn't care less; to be honest. This is for me; my pleasure, not hers. With a hard yank, I pull her head back by her hair, changing the angle of her head slightly so I can fit more of myself down her throat. Once I’m fully seated in her mouth, I begin thrusting again, much harder this time. I’m not holding back, until finally, I explode down the back of her throat.

I quickly pull out of her, tightly pinching her nose with my forefinger and thumb, making sure she swallows every drop. Only once I’m convinced that she has, do I step back. I let her go with a shove, and tuck my cock back into my jeans, before turning away. I let go of the strong urge to shower, to scrub this bitch off me until my skin is raw. I run my hands down my face disgusted with myself, swallowing the bile that is threatening to surface. “Get the hell out!” I yell, not caring to look back. She doesn’t move right away so I yell louder, “What are you still doing here?”

I hear soft whimpering from behind me, as she gets up from her knees and heads toward the door. I should feel bad, but I don't. Nothing about her makes me care in any way. “Don't you dare...Shut your mouth,” I shout at her. I can’t cope with the crying, she knew what this was going to be before she came here. She exits the room sniffling, having the audacity to slam the door as she leaves.

Why am I surrounded by all these mundane nobodies? Does anyone around here actually have any kind of personality? Clearly not. I might as well fuck a doll. At least then I won’t need to look at some sour faced bitch glaring at me. That's probably why it has been taking me longer to get off these days. Sex just doesn’t appeal to me anymore; all I need is a blowjob a few times a week from some warm mouth. Don’t get me wrong, I have screwed my fair share over the years, but I haven’t found anyone that really piques my interest enough to keep them around. These bitches are all the same, just some hole for me to fuck. Nothing special; nothing unique. It’s not that I am looking for ‘the one’ or anything like that. I just need more; I need…

God knows, I just need something. Something better than this. Someone that makes me feel, well…something, anything really. When you live in a world like mine, people are only out for themselves. What they can get from me, and so forth. They don’t want me for me. The real me. But I still live in hope. That has got to count for something at least.

Gazingintothemirroronce more, I can't shake the feeling that this is the only thing I've done all day. I find myself wondering why, today more than ever, I'm so preoccupied with my appearance. It’s just a funeral for a family friend. But I can’t settle the anxiety eating away at me. No matter how hard I try, a sense of uncertainty clouds my thoughts. It might be due to the fact I’m at my parents’ house getting ready and not at my apartment. It transports me back to my youth.

Huffing at my own annoyance, I swallow down my unease. I decide to stick with my current outfit. It’s a black dress that comes to the top of my knees, and the front is covered with a thin layer of lace. I’m debating whether to pair it with my black Louboutin's, but I will feel a lot more relaxed wearing my Docs, so Docs it is. Grabbing a pair of matching black lace knee high socks from the top of my overnight bag, I smile to myself. I’m going to look like I’m going to a rock concert rather than a funeral. Not that I have ever been to a rock concert, nope, not in my whole twenty-nine years. Maybe one day.

I only took select items from my apartment, but my mom hasn’t changed anything in my room since I moved out. I’m so glad all my old clothes and some of my personal things are still here. I sit down at the dresser, and make a start on minimal makeup, just a tiny bit of blush and some mascara. I haven't found a good eyeshadow that I like that matches my chestnut eyes, or maybe it’s just that I don’t like wearing makeup.

After pulling all the old brown hairs out of my brush, I brush it through my strands. I’m going to keep my hair down and just curl the ends a bit. I hope it will give it some texture, so it's not the flat mess it usually is. After putting my socks and Docs on, I’m content with my appearance.

I start to head downstairs to see if my parents are ready. Stiffening, an unknown noise stops me. What is that? Still frozen, I wait to see if I can hear it again. Within a few seconds the noise comes back, except only louder this time. It’s like a grunting noise, or moaning. I think? I don’t move for a couple more minutes, trying to figure where it’s coming from, then I hear it again. It’s coming from Jack's room. I head toward his door, and as I get closer, the noise becomes louder. It’s definitely moans, well, moans and grunts. What is he doing? Does he need help? Is he struggling with his tie or something? Should I help him? As I go to push down on the handle, I hear it...as clear as anything; I hear...my name...he was moaning my name…realization hits. Jack was in his bedroom jerking himself off and moaning my name...my name. Oh my God it can’t be, can it...but…I’m frozen in place, for what feels like forever, my mind working overtime.

Without warning, the door flies open, Jack appears in the doorway looking startled once he notices my presence. He’s wearing black suit trousers, a white shirt with the sleeves folded up to his elbows, and no tie. The two top buttons are opened, his chest hair slightly peeking through. His ash blond hair is slicked back to the side, just like he always wears it, and his blue eyes hide behind aviator style sunglasses. He smells of black pepper, a weird smell, I know. Yet, it’s how he has always smelled to me. Why does he always look so goddamn hot? He always takes my breath away.

“Shit...oh! Raine, we're not late, are we?” I stand with my eyes locked on his, not knowing how to reply. I manage to hold a straight face as he walks straight past me and heads downstairs. His arm brushes mine lightly as he passes, my breath catches as palpitations threaten to take over. Seriously! What was that?

I internally debate with myself on what I heard. I shake off my unease, pulling myself out of my confusion and follow him downstairs, contemplating whether to say something to him or not. By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, he’s standing with Mom in the hallway getting ready to walk out the door. Unwilling to stir up old feelings, I decide to keep it to myself for now and quietly follow them out to the car.

Why do people even bother to drive in this town? I don't see the point; everything is so close together. I don’t expect it to be a long car ride, so I sit quietly, going over the encounter in my head. I had been in love with Jack for so long, ever since we were kids; long before he came to live with us just before his mom's death. If I’m not mistaken, his mom had started heavily drinking, and the state took her children away. I’m sure his little sister went to her dad’s, but Jack’s dad was nothing but a deadbeat, so my parents took him in. We were only fourteen at the time and I tried my hardest to be there for him. But he was always cold with me, never letting me get close. He always said he wasn’t interested in me in that way, pushing me further away.

My feelings were never reciprocated. It was a lonely feeling, and it started to drive me a little crazy. But I slowly moved on, burying my feelings. After what I just heard, or what I thought I just heard, he must have some sort of feelings for me, right? I’m seriously at odds with myself. I should just forget what I heard, and bottle my feelings back up. Otherwise all the old feelings I had will come flooding back. I don’t think I can handle that right now.

Yet, my mind doesn’t falter. The more I contemplate, the more agitated I get. And, thank God we have arrived, because I’m in serious need of some air right now.

Once the car slows to a stop, I jump out and lean my head back, taking in several deep breaths. Trying not to look like a complete idiot, I quickly straighten up and check my surroundings; thankful that no one was looking. Everyone is too busy shaking hands and offering condolences to the family of the deceased. Harry, I think his name was, though I can’t be certain. He was a friend of my parents and they had known each other since they were kids. He didn’t have any children of his own, and my parents had not been remarkably close with him over the last few years, so I never knew him personally.

As I stand waiting, I take in my surroundings. It’s so beautiful here, almost surreal. It’s a big white house-like building that has at least two floors that I can see. Black shutters cover all the closed windows, and ivy winds around the front of the building. I love it. It has my dream house vibe to it. But, it’s the garden that truly catches my breath. It’s filled with large sunflowers, some of the largest that I have ever seen. They are absolutely stunning. Nature's aroma takes over my senses as I stand absorbing every last detail of the garden. I wish I could stay here all day just observing it all. I could skip the funeral and stay here. No one would mind, would they? I could imagine myself living here, among the sunflowers. Waking up every morning to all of this would be heaven; a dream come true.

Reaching my arm out, ready to touch one of the larger sunflowers, a voice behind me startles me and I nearly jump out of my skin. Looking around, I sigh in relief; it’s just my mom to tell me that it’s time to go inside for the service. Not ready to leave, I take one last glance around me, taking it all in before reluctantly heading inside.

I’malmostcertainsheheard me; she has been acting strange since I found her outside my room. And this is why I’ve kept my distance. I don’t want the strangeness. Women can turn really weird when they want something; when they want me. They nag and become really clingy. Don’t get me started with the stupid questions like: Where have you been? Where are you going? Why didn’t you call me?

I fear Raine would be exactly like that, and that’s not something I could put up with. I wouldn’t want to take that chance. Not that I don’t find her attractive, because I do. I have frequently jerked off to thoughts of her. Just like today. Yet, her personality could do with some work. A plank of wood has more character than she has, but a man has his needs.

Speaking of needs, I need to get my head back in the game. Right now, the most pressing thing is my need for revenge. That’s why I’m here today. Revenge. For my mother and sister. Grey Archer, that son of a bitch, caused the death of my mother, and then took my sister and killed her. He didn’t spare me a second glance, just tossed me to the side like trash.

At one point, I thought we were going to be one big happy family. I wanted that more than anything. Especially since my dickhead sperm donor never wanted to know what being a family felt like, but I thought Grey did. Poor, naive me. That dream was soon destroyed by the fact that he already had a family. It devastated my mother, and she started drinking and taking drugs to dull the pain. She told me Grey had killed my sister, and that reason, ultimately, was why she ended up taking her own life. Grey killed my sister to hurt my mother, and to hurt me. I trusted him. But you live and learn.

Since that day, I vowed to give Grey Archer exactly what he deserves. I haven’t been able to think about much else in the last fifteen years. It has consumed my entire existence. I know it will take time to see this through, but I’m fully determined.

It was another reason I wanted to become a lawyer. So that I could have access to the resources I need to destroy Grey. Today I’m here to see his son, Donovan, the golden boy. The most effective way I can envision getting my revenge on Grey Archer is to ruin his piece of shit son. This will only get me a fraction of the justice I think I deserve or need, but it’s a start. I want Grey to suffer like I did. I want him to feel the pain of losing a loved one. Just like I’ve had to do. It’s essential for me to get close to Donovan. How? I’m still trying to figure that out.

Jerking myself out of my thoughts, I glance around. It’s time to take our seats in the chapel as the service is about to begin. I sit at the end of the aisle so I can be on the lookout for Donovan. I haven’t seen him yet; but he’s sure to arrive soon. Forty-five minutes later and I’m almost dozing off, this service is so fucking boring. At this point, I’d rather watch paint dry.

Muffled voices followed by the large door at the back closing loudly grab my attention. Whipping my head around, I become aware of Donovan heading this way. I almost break my neck glancing around, wondering which direction he’s going. He sits directly behind Raine. Slyly, I angle in my seat, needing to keep him in my line of sight. However, my eyes must be mistaken, because I swear I just caught him sniffing Raine’s hair. For his sake, I hope not, but it clearly looked that way.

I need to figure out a way to get close to him without seeming too eager. I was tricking myself into believing that once I got here and had my eyes on him, I would know what to do. I’ve been monitoring him carefully, trying to figure him out, but he’s been hard to crack. I know he doesn’t have many friends, but there has to be a possible connection into his inner circle. But how? I can’t give up; I need this to work.

I have to get my head out of my ass and think.

Whereisshe?Ihave a desperate desire to see her face; because her scent alone was intoxicating. She smelled of rhubarb and honey, it was delicious; truly mouthwatering. I couldn’t resist the urge that called out to me as I went to take my seat. Unexpectedly losing control of myself as I leaned in, inhaling her essence. I absolutely cherished the moment. My cock jerked with excitement. Every part of me desired to snatch her up and take her home, whether it be willingly or not.

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