Page 12 of Deviant Desires

Bambi shudders until the ministrations of my fingers, her responses coming in whimpers. She can’t open her mouth and tell me how she feels because her body has turned against her.

I push aside the fabric of her workout shorts and press my cock to her entrance. “You’re lucky, you know that? I could have fucked you in the Crumbl parking lot. I thought about it. Seeing you sitting there with Cat, eating your cookies and talking about work. God, it would have been erotic as hell to go behind a tree and fuck you up against the bark.”

I slowly push inside of her, dragging my cock back and forth in a torturous sawing motion. It isn’t enough pressure to get her off, but it’s just enough to drive her to the edge of insanity. Her pussy tightens around me, desperately trying to find its own release. But every time she pushes her hips back into mine to take her pleasure, I pin her against the car and wait for her to realize that I’m the one in charge.

“This isn’t over, Bambi. It’s never going to be over. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can be together. And the sooner you’ll get off.” She doesn’t fight me anymore, she just slumps over the hood of the car and lets me use her body for my pleasure. I press her face against the hood and she hisses with desire.

At any moment, her neighbors could look out their windows and see us. They wouldn’t know who I am, but they’d see my hulking 6’0” frame casually pounding into their curvy little neighbor. The possibility of being caught makes it even harder for me to keep from exploding.

“Mat,” Bambi begs after a few minutes, “more. Please. I need more stimulation.”

I’ve been thrusting into her at a leisurely pace for nearly ten minutes. Every ridge of my cock has gotten familiar with her pussy. I’ve filled her all the way up and held her on the edge. But she doesn’t get to cum tonight. She has to be punished for disobeying me.

I let myself go instead. With three quick bursts of action, I coat her walls with my sperm. Warm, salty spunk fills her womb. “No more stimulation, B, not until I get a little stimulation.”

Bambi growls with frustration and beats the hood of my car with her fists. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Mateo?”

I punctuate my presence inside of her with another hard thrust, shooting my juices a little bit higher. “You’re what’s wrong with me, Bambi. Until you put that ring on and take your place at my side, you can expect me to fuck you long and slow for the rest of your life. Slow enough that this greedy little pussy of yours doesn’t get off. Because this is the only way I can get you to do what I want.” I grind my hips against her ass, taking my time before pulling out.

The second I take pressure off of her, Bambi twists away from the car and adjusts her shorts. “I fucking hate you, Mateo Valenti.”

I carefully place my cock back inside my pants with a grin. “Come back when you mean it, love. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got somewhere to be.” For giggles, I pull the car out of the driveway and leave the neighborhood. I could have just gone across the street and gone to bed, but now I’m too keyed up to sleep. I need a cigar and a glass of bourbon, stat. It’s the only thing that will quell the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

10

BAMBI

It’s been eight days since Mateo accosted me in my office during the Dean’s retirement party. It’s been 2 days since he followed me home and fucked me in my driveway. I’ve gone through two and a half bottles of wine and had every conceivable conversation with myself known to man. And the conclusion of all those arguments for and against Mateo leaves me exactly where I started: unsure.

There are three pieces of balled-up paper on the floor from last night’s meeting of the minds. I got together with half a bottle of Riesling and asked myself to write down the pros and cons of getting back together with Mateo.

The pros were easy: we fit together like puzzle pieces, he made all my dreams come true, he knew how to touch my body in just the right ways, he loved me with the intensity of a thousand suns, and he was the love of my life.

But the cons were easy, too: he killed someone, he lied about it, he’d gone to prison more than once, he knew my weaknesses, he didn’t know how to leave me alone, and he was obsessed with taking what he thought was his.

The third piece of paper was where I tried to weigh what each pro and con meant to me. After all, the cons list was longer, but some of the things didn’t mean too much, like his obsession with me. It was almost a pro to know that someone out there cared enough to move heaven and earth for me.

Regardless of how I weighed the items on the list, I hadn’t come any closer to figuring out what to do. I tore the sheets of paper out of my notebook, balled them up, and chucked them across the room. Now I was left sitting on the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and a raging headache from last night’s wine binge.

In truth, I know what I should do. I should go to the police station and ask for a restraining order. Perhaps that’ll keep Mateo off my property and away from my body. But as I said just a couple of nights before, it isn’t that simple.

Mateo and I shared four of the best years of our lives together. When he proposed, I thought that I’d finally found the one. And then when I walked in on him with his fingers wrapped around that man’s throat, reality set in.

There are no fairytales or happy endings. Life is what you make it and sometimes you have to make the hard shit work out even when it’s tough.

My life with Mateo was never perfect; I realize that now. He was always running off to work but I never quite knew what he did. He said that he was a business owner, but he hemmed and hawed around the details of what kind of business. On more than one occasion, he’d shown up at my door with bruised knuckles and a bloody nose. He said that he’d gotten in a fight with his brothers, but they never seemed to corroborate his story. It’s only in hindsight that I realize I normalized his behavior because of the way he made me feel.

Mateo had the unique ability to make anyone he was with feel like the most important person in the room. I’d watched him do it to Raniero, to Catherine, to my boss, and to anyone else he was introduced to. Mateo was charismatic and it drew people to him like a moth to a flame. And I was just as susceptible as everyone else.

I haven’t felt his brand of love since the day he was arrested. Earlier that morning, he’d been texting me all the naughty places he wanted to lick pasta sauce off of my body. It was only a few hours later that I’d forgotten about spaghetti and red sauce. All I could think about was how silly I’d been to let this dangerous, obsessed man into my life.

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him.

It took me a year to decide that I was ready to date again. With Mateo behind bars and his brothers creeping around every grocery store corner, I was afraid that dating again meant that I was dishonoring his memory. But Catherine told me that unless I planned to wait for Mateo to get out of prison, I needed to move on. She was my voice of reason.

Unfortunately, moving on didn’t mean moving to something better. I dated every type of guy on the spectrum except the one I wanted:theone.

I dated guys who were just looking for someone to watch sports with them and fuck after the game. Sometimes when their team won, the sex was good. But when their team lost, I would be lucky if he even pretended that he wanted to get me off.

---