Page 3 of Mayfly

“Did I stutter?”

Caught in my gravity, she hesitates, and I can see the war being fought between her mind and body.

Common sense versus curiosity.

Fear versus desire.

I’m a disgusting monster molded by hand through abuse, yet she’s drawn to me like a moth to a flame. So, without another word, I step aside and walk towards the palm-flanked exit of the restaurant.

My dick is already hard by the time she locks the powder room door behind her.

After shrugging off my tailored blazer, I lay it over the back of a pink upholstered chair and start unbuttoning my waistcoat.

“Um. My name’s—”

“I don’t care.” I cut her off, nodding at the chair in front of her.

She shoots daggers at me, but she still strips her upper body of the black-and-white uniform.

As my gloved fingers push mother-of-pearl buttons through their holes, I tell her, “Feel free to leave. Just send the redhead in.” And continue to watch myself in the walled mirror behind her.

A fiery determination that, if I’m being honest, doesn’t do a damn thing for me, takes over her mousy face. She wants to fire insults at me, but we both know her clit is pounding. Then it happens, almost exactly the same as it always does. Her eyes widen, her mouth opens, and she just… stares.

Still tucked into the waistband of my trousers, my shirt hangs loose against the back of my legs, and another one of my past self-soothing attempts is on full display. Collar bones to my ankles and down the length of my arms, is black, blue, and red. Back and front. Every square inch of available real estate has been filled with the crude and profane. There are skulls and crosses and whatever the fuck anyone felt like scratching into my skin before rubbing ink into it from a pen they'd stolen from our classes at juvie. It’s a mess, a disaster of cohesion, all started when I carved ‘KILL ME’ into my chest with a safety razor.

“Why are your pants still on?”

The coldness of my inquiry has her fingers trembling as they unzip the tuxedo trousers. Stepping out of them, she hangs her head and folds them neatly over the top of her jacket and vest.

This is that special kind of meek I’d not have seen if I went with my first choice. And her borderline regretful posture turns me back on in a way that makes me wish I'd just slit my own goddamn throat.

Now in nothing but socks and mismatched bra and knickers, I look at the backside of her reflection. She’s got a much fatter assthan that man’s suit would have you believe, so I stalk toward her, and when I reach around to smack it, she squeaks and covers her mouth with her hands.

Staring her in the eyes as she stands there frozen, I unbuckle my pants.

When I slap her ass again, I squeeze it tightly and force her body against mine; her eyes widening further like they’re searching for something to focus on.

My other hand rakes up her back to her neck, then grabs onto her dirty blonde ponytail.

“What’s that?” she asks, suddenly far too taken by my necklace.

“I don’t need you to talk!”

Yanking her ponytail, I turn her body and force her to walk to the mirror. Once her cheek is pressed against it, I push her underwear down her thighs and reach between her legs. Squeezing her eyes shut, she balls her hands into fists against the glass and makes a sound I don’t care to place because the poor girl is so wet she never stood a chance.

Taking my dick out, I slap it against her ass, then push between her thighs until I meet the harsh resistance of her cunt.

Tugging on her hair again, I drag her down the mirror until her hips tilt and her ass pops out.

Again I try to enter her, but it’s like she is squeezing herself shut.

Taking her leg, I lift it and pry her open. Thigh up and squashed against the mirror, I take my cock, bend my knees, and force my way inside her.

She screams behind gritted teeth and my head falls back at how fucking good this feels.

Grabbing behind her knee, I push her leg higher and hammer into her vice-like cunt until I have to clamp my hand over her mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl in her ear, and when she tries to look back at me, I tear her away from the mirror and push her forward over the chair she’d so neatly folded her uniform on. “You make one more sound and I’ll walk out of here right now and leave the door open so everyone can see what a whore you are.”

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