Fill Me With Your Poison
I feel an itching under my skin, a tense anticipation. The air prickles with static, the summer heat unwelcome, sticky.
Something big is coming. A storm. Lightning. Thunder.
And something else.
I feel a certain sense of unrest, waiting for something to happen.
It's late, the sun setting low over the horizon, the dark oranges and pinks streaking the sky quickly fading to make way for the dark of night. Dark clouds billow in the distance, filling the sky with their ominous presence.
A warning of what is to come.
Tonight, it will rain harder than it ever has before. The thunder will be louder, the lightning brighter, everything more intense.
Because tonight, I will finally fuck Edward.
My skin crawls with the though, a not unwelcome sensation in my current predicament. I feel myself vibrate with the excitement, the possibilities tonight holds.
Tonight will end a dance months in the making. It is forbidden. Illicit.
And all the more exciting for it.
I decide that the sooner the better. There will be no long, sweet caresses. No lingering touches or soft looks. Tonight will be rough, and hard. Fast. Intense. Tonight will be a release of months of pent up frustration, of teasing touches and lustful looks and all those other naughty things that make the chase so thrilling.
But not tonight.
Tonight comes fruition.
As the sun slips down in the sky, the last bright sliver disappearing from view, I too slip away, ready for whatever tonight will bring.
I am a little early, but even so he is already there, watching me with those green, green eyes that make me spiral. I feel his gaze right down to my core, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips.
I am surprised to find that I am anxious, not cripplingly so, but there is a slight fluttering in my stomach, his intense gaze making me nervous.
But I want this. So badly. In the instant that our eyes lock, my intentions are clear, and he nods infinitesimally.
We slip away from the group, escaping to an empty bathroom. His hair is red under the fluorescent light, but even with the harsh lighting he's beautiful.
I feel my other lips getting wet, moisture gathering.
I can't wait until he's inside of me.
He shuts the door behind him, stopping it closed to prevent any unwanted visitors; and then three things happen simultaneously. Within a second his lips were plastered to mine, his tongue moving against mine desperately, his hands flew to my waist, pulling my harshly against him and my hands went to his hair, threading my fingers through the silky softness as I pulled him closer.
I had been right when I thought that tonight was going to be rough and hard.
We kissed hotly, with enough passion that I knew my lips would be bruised tomorrow from the intensity.
Hopefully they wouldn't be the only part of me that was bruised.
His hands slip under the collar of my shirt, his fingers, dragging over my collarbone, rough and callused on my skin. We separate only long enough to unbutton his jeans, my skirt that I had chosen for easy access being pushed up around my ribs.
Edward gives a strangled moan when he sees that I'm going commando, and am bare for him to do what he will.
In an instant he is on his knees on the floor, his own needs forgotten as he thrusts his tongue inside of me.
Edward loves to give oral. And from what I've heard, he's quite the master.
And so he should be - he's certainly had practice.
I lose coherent thought for a moment as he adds his fingers, pumping in and out of me with abandon. His tongue circles my clit, just the tip and just enough to drive me crazy with my need for orgasm, that sweet release of endorphins that is the ultimate end goal of this little tryst.
I am given exactly that as he adds a third finger inside of me and increases the pressure on my clit.
Edward and I have never slept together, but he knows exactly how to get me there.
I feel the build up in the pit of my stomach, the tightening, the increased tension. I can feel it coming and feel my legs buckle slightly from the intensity. His free hand is there to hold me steady as I ride his mouth to oblivion.
I explode into a million white lights.
When I come back to earth, the room seems hotter somehow, the lights brighter. And I'm straddling Edward as he lies on the cool tile floor, the temperature on the pads of my feet a direct contrast to the sweat trickling between my breasts.
I feel wanton, sexy. And I'm ready for another round.
I reach below us and find where Edward has freed himself, revelling in the guttural groan he emits when I grasp him. He is hard and hot in my hand, and I hold him more firmly between my legs to stop his hips from flexing up. His erection twitches in my palm, straining to enter me.
But last time was all in his control. This time, I will be the one calling the shots.
I raise myself slightly above him, watching him carefully. His eyes meet mine, his desperation clear. "Bella," he grunts.
It's the first thing he's said, and after that, it's like the floodgates open. He can't keep his mouth shut. "Bella, I want to feel your warm cunt. I can still smell you on me, taste you on my lips. I want to feel you around me, sucking me in. Take me in."
His words ignite me, sending a new rush of heat throughout me that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
In one quick move I position him at my entrance and move down, enveloping him in one feel swoop.
At the moment of joining, there is a rush of feeling, and then utter calm, almost as if he were meant to be inside of me. He fits perfectly, large, but not painfully so, and I can feel all of him.
Though we've never fucked, I know that he's had a vasectomy, and that he's sterile. I also know that he's clean, and he likewise knows I hold a clean bill of health.
There's no risk to be had here.
I take a moment to enjoy this, this feeling of fullness. There will be no repeats of this night, this is my one chance. I don't do repeats.
His sharp grunt brings me back, and I raise myself off of him until just the head of his pulsating member rests inside of me. I pause for a few seconds, and just as the anticipation is about to kill us both, I slam myself back down, taking him in fully, before setting a fast pace.
I move quickly over him, angling it just right so that he's hitting that sweet spot inside of me every. single. time.
His hands go to my thighs, urging me on. This push and pull is not love, it's not romance. It's lust. It's chemistry. And after we've reached out mutual pleasures, it will be over.
I move faster, eager to get the most out of this I can. My hands go above my head, giving him a better view of my tits as I start to rotate my hips, altering my movements.
My breath is coming out in laboured gasps now, the sounds we make little more than animalistic grunts.
Wet. Hot. Plunging.
He enters me again, and again, over and over, his hard, pulsating member slick with my juices. The scent of our sex is heady in the confined bathroom. I feel drunk, high off the experience.
Edward shifts suddenly, sitting up and rearranging us so that my bare ass is pressed against the tile, the rush of cold making me gasp. He brings himself between my spread legs and fits himself under me, trying to take back control.
I let him.
This is what he does, after all.
The sounds of our desperate grunts is joined by the sound of skin slapping on skin, we slip against each other, wet and sweaty and messy.
With this new angle, he rubs up against my clit, I can feel the build up again, the slow burn. Only, it's not burning so slowly, it's more a fast ignite, and I start to climax faster than I ever have before.
My toes curl, my legs shudder and my bones turn to jelly as my world becomes oblivion for the second time that night. I feel the aftershocks for minutes afterwards and he's still not done.
I'd heard about his stamina, been told all about it, but to witness it, feel it first hand, it was something entirely different.
He flips us over again, laying me back on the floor and I can feel where the tile has imprinted my ass and thighs, and I'm sure to have more marks once he's done here. He drives into me hard and fast, in long, powerful strokes. I've just come, but I can feel it starting to happen again, and I'm so glad that he hasn't disappointed.
The months of foreplay weren't in vain.
My walls start clenching around him again, I don't want to let him go. If possible he drives into me deeper, harder, faster and my climax washes over me in a sudden swoop, taking me over and rendering me boneless and liquid against him.
A few more earth-shattering strokes and he comes, his hot seed spilling inside of me.
And then it's done.
Done and dusted.
We stand up and rearrange our clothes. I try to make myself look as presentable as possible, but there will be no doubting what I've just done. One look at my hair and flushed cheeks and it will be obvious to everyone in that room. I can feel his orgasm spilling out of me, but opt not to clean myself up. I want to keep this part of him with me for a bit.
We go to leave, my legs jelly-like, my bones still liquid. I'm still running off the high he's given me, three orgasms in the space of twenty frantic minutes. We aren't saying anything to each other, and for that I'm grateful. This doesn't change anything, except that he charged space between up will now hopefully abate.
I've had him now. No more.
We join the line of people entering the small room, avoiding eye contact with each other, separate once again. There will be no speaking of tonight, no mention of what just occurred in the future, even in this room.
Edward crosses to get a cup of stale, shitty coffee while I take a seat in between Mike, the man who gets off on shitting on his partners chests, and Jane, the girl who frequently forces her dog to have sex with her, and continue to avoid his gaze. Words go around the circle, and then I realise it is my turn.
A dozen pairs of eyes go to me, waiting in expectation.
I can still feel his release inside me, our collective juices coating my inner thighs. I shift slightly and smile with the knowledge, feeling illicit and bad. I open my mouth and answer their expectant gazes.
"Hi, my name is Bella, and I'm a sex addict."