Beautiful Torment (18 page)

“Like hell that’s all you want,” he whispers, teasing my bare legs along the seam of my dress. “You’re going to get me into so much trouble,” his eyes blaze thirstily.

“Wait,” I breathe heavily.

“That’s all I’ve been doing,” He shakes his head as he unzips my dress in one solid motion. He doesn’t take it off, letting it hang to the sides as he slides his arms around my waist, his hips already gyrating against me as he lifts me onto the counter. I smile at the memories of the first time, when we were fabric apart in this exact spot.

His teeth graze my chin while his right hand moves up and down my left thigh until he’s holding my leg around him. His other hand pushes my underwear to the side, his fingers revolving around my wet center. My head falls back and his lips land on my neck. I hear the unbuckling of his pants and open my eyes when I don’t hear the condom wrapper.

“What about-”

“I’ll pull out,” he interrupts, shoving into me quickly. I cry out. I can’t help it. I’ve never felt so whole.

This was a bad idea.

“This is… okay?” He asks hesitantly, but when he finally sees my face he stops.

“Oh Luci, no,” he starts to pull out, backing away.

“Yes,” I grab onto him. This still has to happen, there’s no turning back now. “I just… I just…”

“I know,” he sighs.

“I need you,” I confess.

“I know,” he starts moving again, awakening every part of my being.

“I’m sorry this is going to be so quick,” he pants.

“Where did you tell your class you were going?”

“Does it matter?” He accelerates his thrusts.

“No,
Mr. Harrington
.”

He growls as he picks up my other leg, twisting it around him as he shoves me against the wall, driving into me urgent and fast.

“Where do you want my come?” He moans. “I don’t want to ruin your pretty dress.”

He’s hitting me hard, my own trembling taking over. “Shit Luci, I feel you about to come.”

Him too, I can feel him too, but I can’t find the air to tell him. “The way you’re squeezing my dick,” he pants. “I missed it so much. I’m going to loose it.”

“No, hold on,” I persuade, trying to prolong this feeling. “Think of something else.”

“I can’t!” It’s a toss between a laugh and a whimper . “I can’t think about anything but you.”

“My mouth,” I answer his previous question. “Come in my mouth.”

“Yes,” he sobs, pulling out, but I don’t wrap my lips around him fast enough. His come hits my stomach, then chest, before he guides himself into my mouth, so much come spilling out as I pump my lips around him. I swallow quickly, making room for more.

“Oh, Luci!” he sighs, my mouth still jerking his throbbing length until the last bit drips out of him.

He’s breathing hard as I stand up.

“I better get back. I’ve already been gone too long.” I hear the closing of his fly as he watches me wipe the come off my chest and taste it.

“Ugh, you’re going to make me want to go again.” I smile at the idea, but it doesn’t meet my eyes. I’m too mad at myself right now for allowing this.

“There’s that smile… sort of,” he presses his hand against my cheek. “It’s my favorite thing in the world.”

“Please don’t say things like that,” I whisper, wiping off my stomach and fixing my hair before zipping the dress up. “Its just sex.”

He brushes my cheek, his hand lingering, like it’s more than just sex.

“Okay,” he swallows as he leaves. 

I’m foolish for letting this continue, but I can’t stop it. Our routine has picked up again, only it’s not exactly where we left off. It’s not as often, and there’s a lot less talking.

It’s easier that way.

Sort of.

I see him writing at his desk as I make my way down the hall. I usually don’t stay after school that much anymore, but today he asked me to, and of course I don’t say no. People are still lingering in the hallway, more than usual. It’s prom weekend, and so many are staying to oversee the gym’s transformation.

He catches me gawking, an unmistakable sorrow still inside.

“Hi,” I pause in the doorway.

“Hi.” He looks at me, and then straight ahead. I peek in and see a few students sitting quietly, busily writing in front of them. “You’re late for the makeup test.”

“Oh,” I play along. “Right, sorry.”

I take a seat in the back, watching as he swiftly makes his way towards me, our fingers briefly meeting as he hands me a small packet of papers.

Meet me tomorrow tonight
, it reads.

What?! The idea catches me by surprise, especially since tomorrow is
Saturday
. I look up, confused and wide-eyed. He’s fixed on me, and I mouth
where
.

His playful eye roll saddens me, making me miss our easygoing conversations. He motions for me to turn the page.

Duh.

On the track - 10pm.

I turn the next page.

You may hand this back to me and go.

I get up, confused, handing the paper back and pausing just outside the door. He meets my gaze and gives me a wink.

I pull into the school parking lot, stuck in traffic behind a row of limos, hearing the music blaring as girls in ball gowns and guys dressed in tuxedos make their way inside. I look down at the very plain sundress I’m wearing, pressing my flip-flop on the gas pedal as I continue to the back lot.

I’m very early, since I lied through my teeth on what I’m doing tonight. I don’t know if I wore a dress for the special occasion, it being prom and all, or because it’ll be easier access for him.

I head outside at exactly ten o’clock, and make my way on to the track. It’s dark, but I can still see, thanks to the lights from the school in the distance. I start humming along to the popular song blasting in the gym as I wait, looking at my watch every two seconds, wondering if he’d actually stand me up.

Two songs later, he’s still not here.

The cool May night air is starting to set, and I shiver, moving from the grassy area to a lane on the track, walking just to keep warm.

My favorite song comes on and I sing along, dancing to the beat, imagining Ashley and Chloe squealing with delight. 

“You are so damn cute,” his voice startles me.

“Please tell me you haven’t been watching long,” I freeze, cringing at the thought.

He laughs, walking into the light. My blood burns at the sight of him, instantly warming me, despite the now light breeze. He looks sleek, debonair in his black tux and ivory vest and tie, his dark hair neatly styled, and his eyes are glowing an unearthly blue as he holds out the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen.

“What are you doing?” I’m taken aback.

“Taking you to prom,” he grabs my hand and slides the flower onto my wrist.

“But you’re so fancy and I’m-”

“Beautiful.” He finishes my sentence before pulling me close.

I rest my chin on his shoulder as he sways me to the music, and for the time being I forget we can no longer be this intimate, because everything right now is so complete.

“Thank you,” I whisper in his ear.

He pulls back, planting a kisses me on me with such finesse that I nearly loose my balance. It’s sweet, full of tenderness and devotion, much like the night of the play. He’s hard against my stomach and I moan as I move my hands lower.

“No, pretty girl,” he mutters, catching my hands and stopping me. He entwines his fingers through mine, holding on tighter. “Tonight we just dance.”

DEAD INSIDE

Prom.

He took me to prom.

In our own little way.

It’s not what I ever pictured.

It was better.

I’ll never forget prom.

We swayed until midnight in each other’s arms, holding each other as we danced, even through the fast songs, and despite the chilly late night air I stayed warm and cozy.

We watched in the distance, when everyone left the school. We stayed, and he wrapped his jacket around me and we watched the sun come up, talking well into the early hours of morning. He’d interrupt me every now and then with a kiss, but never anything more.

I close my eyes, remembering his words as he walked me to my car.
You’re in for it tomorrow, Ms. Cunningham
.
That little dress you’re wearing is going to taunt me all day
. I realize it’s already Sunday, and I’ll get to see him again tomorrow.
Wear this again for me, will you?
He skims the top part of my thighs before giving me one last kiss and shutting my car door.

I do as he asks, walking into school early Monday morning in my sundress.

I let my guard down and allow myself to sit with him in his office before school starts, and then again at lunch.

He still hasn’t touched me, but our banter is back. We’re joking, playing love, hate, no opinion through a Scrabble game.

During lab class, we’re at the computer lab, which is down the hall from his classroom, and when the bell rings the whole class is surprised when we enter the classroom. The desks are spread wide and not in their usual formation.

“I want to mimic the final exactly,” he explains. I can tell it’s a lie, but I’m immediately intrigued, wondering what he has up his sleeves. He starts assigning everyone seats as we wait patiently in the front.

“Oh look at that, I seemed to have miscalculated.” It’s the worst acting I’ve ever seen, but no one else notices.

“Luci,” he all but sings my name. “I’m sorry. I guess… um… huh - why don’t you go sit at the lab counter in the back?”

I head to the very back of the classroom, my eyes landing on the stool in front of the black lab table.

I can’t help my smile.

Unlike the other tables, this one has the sink attached, so it’s more of a counter, meaning I have to straddle the stool, rather than being able to place my feet directly in front of me. He’s planned this well. But, that’s not what has me shaking my head, grinning from ear to ear, causing his face to completely light up. Taped to the stool, with a small padded cushion underneath it, is some sort of mechanism - a bunch of pieces I recognize he’s using for his robot. Mostly, they’re it’s a cluster of mismatched things, clearly thrown together - a metal apparatus with a small rubber ball attached to the middle.

I look up at him again. He clearly expects me to
sit
on this. What is he planning? His wildness excites me and I’m already dripping as I place my bag on the floor and straddle the stool. I’m sitting higher than the rest of the class, but not quite eye level to him when he sits at his desk on the small platform, and the ball falls directly in line with my now
very
wet hole.

“It’s open book,” he says, and everyone sighs in relief, getting to work immediately.

To my utter horror, and delight, five minutes into class, I feel a light vibrating movement against me
down there
, coming from the stool. It’s the rubber ball, now rubbing, rotating. Not quite where I want it to, but close.

My eyes dart up, his dark gaze already on me. My panties are absolutely drenched and I can feel the sticky wetness hit me each time the ball pushes my underwear into me. My eyes widen as he actually gets up and makes his way down the row towards me.

A couple of people look up, but quickly go right back to their books. I hear them, turning the pages vigorously, but too busy to look, my gaze examining him as he approaches, his hand in his pockets, attempting to hide his hard on, I’m sure.

No one seems to detect it. Then again, I’m usually the only one who stares.

I look down, as he gets closer, pretending I’m actually focusing at my paper, even though we both know I haven’t written a damn thing down. He slides around the table, whispering in my ear.

“Not like this,” he presses his bulge against my back, and I lean into him as we both stare straight ahead.

He places a small remote on the table, smirking as he presses a button that increases the speed of the ball below. I can feel the quicker pace, as the metal gyrates around the sides of my upper thighs, moving the ball up and down, forward and back, in a small circular motion.

Ensuring no one is looking, he gently moves his hand up the front of my dress, lightly hissing once he feels how I’m so damn drenched. Gently lifting me, he moves my underwear to the side, letting the ball rest directly on my skin, sinking into my vagina.

“There we go,” he coos lowly. “And don’t you dare come.” He presses his thumb on my sweet spot, which the ball
just misses
. I realize he made it this way on purpose, just to torture me. He pushes his hardness into my back, matching the motion of his fingers.

I’m panting by the time his fingers leave me, giving him a protesting look as he places my dress back down.

“Watch me,” he says, grabbing back the remote and taking it with him. He strolls back to his desk, his left hand in his pocket, his right in his mouth, sucking my wetness off his fingers.

As soon as he sits, he lets out a small cough, leaning back. Only, I know he’s undoing his pants. His eyes are beckoning, but here I am, restrained in place; my hands face down on the cold lab counter, my legs spread wide underneath, with the thudding against me below, driving me mad.

My mouth falls open as I see the ever so slight movement of his shoulder, realizing he’s actually stroking himself underneath his desk. I remember our thrill, up against the door with all the people in the hallway on the other side, and then when I told him I wanted to watch him again.

He’s giving this to me, doing this for me.

His smirk drives me insane, and I can’t focus on anything other than his moving shoulder. It’s early, so he’s probably still on his head. I imagine how he’s playing with it, rubbing it between his fingers, maybe even use his palm and circling it. Next he’ll probably wrap his hand around his whole length, jerking it a few times before squeezing hard. That’s how he likes it. It’s what makes him come the fastest. Although, with me sitting here like this, I’m sure he’ll come fast enough as is.

The tops of my thighs are now completely soaked, and it only gets worse when he reaches his other hand up and presses the remote, increasing the ball speed yet again.

I flex my fingers, wishing I could just place them where I need it.

He laughs silently, his shoulder working faster, tugging on himself hard now.

I open my legs more and push myself down onto the ball, trying to alleviate the ache. I can just barely reach it like this. I try again, driving down hard. Another time. It’s just not hitting me where I want.

His grin lets me know he knows exactly what I’m trying to do, and he shakes his head. I don’t stop, bouncing faster, my hands balling against the table. He’s moving his shoulder to match my speed, biting his lip, loving how desperate I am.

I close my eyes, frustrated, desperately wanting release. I can’t keep them closed for long, though. I’m too interested in watching him. I can tell he’s really pounding himself under the desk now.

He makes a face, and I know that look well.

Shit, he’s going to come.

He reaches over and pulls out a handful of tissues. He waits a second, as a few people look up upon hearing the noise. As soon as no one’s looking he places them under his desk. His eyes are on mine, hooded, and his mouth opens slightly. He gives me a wink before learning forward and biting his lip. He rocks in his chair and his shoulder is really moving now.

He’s coming.

I can practically taste it. God I love how it spills out of him, always so much, always with so much power, gushing like a damn river.

I’m about to loose it.

He silently laughs again as he shifts in his seat, no doubt putting himself away.

Stupid bastard.

He clears his throat.

“Please bring your tests up once you’ve finished, and if you need more time you may stay behind.” Of course no one will stay behind, except for me.

Everyone starts packing up, realizing the bell is about to ring. He presses the button again. Fuck, the ball is pounding me now. I stop my bouncing, since everyone is no longer focused on their tests, and instead ground myself into the chair, pressing down hard. The way it’s smacking into me feels so good.

Oh God, I want to come so badly!

The bell rings, and when the last person exits, he stands and shuts the door.

“Luci,” he turns around. “You’re being so good.”

I start my bouncing again, my face painted with need.

He walks over and wraps his arms around me from behind. “You want it so badly.”

I nod and I can’t help it, I grab my breasts and lightly pinch my nipples though the fabric. I let out a loud moan, feeling him smile against my neck.

“Oh, Luci,” he nudges my head to the side, grazing my nape with his lips before his tongue licks softly.

I groan loudly again.

“Please,” I beg as his hands move down to my thighs. He starts bouncing me faster than I’ve been able to do by myself. It’s so fucking good.

“Oh yes!”

His hand moves under my skirt.

“Yes, please!” I thrust towards him, because he’s not getting to me fast enough. He uses one hand to hold me down, bouncing me at an almost blurry rate, not as high as before, but lower, so much faster. His other hand finally finds my pulsing clit.

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby.”

I don’t think he makes it around more than once before I’m coming hard, falling back against him, my legs so far open, shaking.

“There you go,” he encourages in my ear.

I don’t have a chance to settle before another orgasm rapidly approaches. My lips find his neck as he starts thrusting against my back.

“You have no idea how you turn me on,” his warm breath hits my ear, and before I register what’s going on, he’s lifting me off the stool, carrying me across the room.

I’m on cloud nine as he sits in his chair and slides himself into my swollen, wet folds. I’m already moving, grinding his cock in me.

“Fuck, Luci,” he leans back. “Yeah, ride me!” My breath is still coming hard as I chase another orgasm. “Oh ride it!” He shouts, moving back and forth in his chair, his hips beating into me. “Uh, take my cock! Take it!” He cries, and I bounce faster, feeling as he swells inside me.

Shit, he’s so hard!

I freeze.

“If this is payback I’m sorry,” he pants. “Don’t stop, please. Keep riding me, baby. You make my cock feel so good.”

I smile at his need as I slide off of him, and bend down to kiss engorged head, sucking slightly. A drop of pre-come leaks out and I stop, giving him a few minutes to settle down before sitting on him again, this time facing backwards.

He shoves himself forward, just as I sink down and we’re bouncing again, a steady rhythm. He pulls the front of my dress down and plays with my nipples.

“Josh, Josh!” I plead, feeling him twitch inside me each time I say his name. His hands move lower, rubbing my clit.

“Yes, make me come again,” I prod. He brings me there immediately and I cry out.

“Oh fuck yes!” He gasps. “Pull on me with your pussy,” he moans, and I too feel myself grasping around him, rubbing and coursing his come out. “I’m going to come!” He shouts, thrashing forward, starting to stand so he can pull out, but I’m too into it. I want to feel his release. I grind against him hard, pushing him back down into the chair.

“Fuck, Luci I can’t,” he pants, but he doesn’t stop his hammering. “I’m coming! Oh, I can’t stop!”

“Yes,” I plead, bouncing faster, feeling his liquid surge inside me.

“AHH!” He shouts, his cock throbbing wildly, it’s really pouring into me now. I can feel the additional liquid and strong bursts each time they hit. “I’m coming inside you!” He cries. “Shit, oh Luci it’s so good,” he grunts. “Take my come! Yeah! Take my come! Take it!”

His sounds slowly become incoherent, but his hips remain pumping, still coming, and I don’t even make it to public speaking.

The following morning, he’s distraught. I can tell as I pass him on my way to the gym. He’s outside his classroom, but Madison is lurking nearby, so I can’t ask him what’s wrong, which kills me.

He meets me by my locker just before lunch and we walk to his office together.

“So what is it?” I whisper.

His lip curls up and his fingers brush his chin.

“A couple of things,” he sighs. “It’s kind of awkward, and I’m not sure if I’m overstepping a boundary. I debated all night, tortured myself if I should even say anything,” he lets out another sigh. “And then on the other hand, on a totally separate topic, there’s something I’ve been selfishly avoiding.”