Quod Me Nutrit Me Destruit: That Which Destroys Me with The Alternate Ending (14 page)

My knee replaces my hand at the small of her back keeping her pinned in place. I quickly unbuckle my belt and pull my cock out. I circle her wrists with one hand again as I stroke my cock in the other. Sneering down at her, I ask, “That pussy of mine wet, angel? Or does it need to be spanked like that little ass of yours too?”

“Wes, stop trying to intimidate me. It won’t work—.” My hand snakes around to the front of her before shoving her legs open and slapping my fingers against her bare, wet pussy until I feel her clit swell. I move my fingers rubbing her slick swollen clit rough and fast, easily evoking moans from her. Moans my ears have starved for since Saturday night. “Oh, God.” She cries out.

I feel her weight shift as her knees buckle but keep her held up, pinning her to the front of my body using the hand I have between her legs as leverage.

I release her wrists and palm her thigh, roughly squeezing its tautness before pulling it up and folding it against the wall of the elevator. I raise the hand I’m working her clit with and slap the drenched skin of her pussy twice, then immediately delve my fore and middle fingers into her.

Once I’m knuckle deep, I curl my fingers and fuck her hard with them.

My teeth sink into her earlobe. Between my clenched teeth, I tell her, “My pussy. You know how I know that pussy belongs to me, Ms. Reese? Because it fucking weeps for me.”

“Son of a— Oh, shit.
Ohhhhhh God!” She constricts and convulses around my fingers.

“Don’t you dare
cum. I will tear your ass up, do you hear me?” I thrust my cock between her legs, sliding it through her wet pussy lips. “You cum on my cock when it’s buried inside you, or you don’t fucking cum at all. Is that understood, Ms. Reese?” I rub her clit harder then scrape my middle fingernail over the tip quickly, causing her to yelp. My finger pads roughly circle her clit again while my other hand continues finger fucking her, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm.

Bringing her to the brink.

Through clenched teeth, I demand, “Is that understood?” I would demand her answer if I didn’t realize she’s too far gone, incapable of speaking anything coherent; incapable of nothing except the moans and pleas she cries out through her ragged breaths.

She’s on the verge when I pull my hands away from her pussy and hook her legs over my forearms. Standing behind her, I brace both hands against the wall quickly lifting her up and splitting her wide open. Using my torso, I thrust my cock into her balls deep.

The orgasm barreling its way towards her has her pussy already convulsing around my cock, clamping down so hard my eyes cross. Pummeling into her pussy, I growl, “Cum. Cum on my fucking cock, NOW!” Increasing my pace, I fuck her, stabbing into her deeper and deeper until my cock is battering against her womb. “I fucking said CUM!” I roar at her.

Her cum instantly covers my cock and the tops of my thighs. And as her pussy pulls me deeper, tightening around my cock like a fucking vise, I shout, “GODFUCKINGDAMN IT!
Pussy’s so fucking tight, angel. FUCK! FUCK YEAH!” I grunt, pumping and filling her full of my cum.

Something primal snaps in my psyche, causing me to shove
my cum deeper and deeper inside her until I’m utterly drained and she is completely full.

My arms ease her legs down slowly, one at a time sliding around her waist. In a fit of eagerness to suck on the skin covering her neck and shoulders, I tear her shirt open in the front sending tiny pearl buttons scattering across the floor as I pull the offending material off one of her shoulders.

Keeping one arm around her waist, my other hand clenches the material of her shirt as my mouth falls to the sweat slicked skin of her shoulder.

I cover the top of her back in kisses, nips and tastes before settling my sweaty forehead between her shoulder blades and whisper against her skin, “What the fuck are you doing to me, angel?”

Pieces

Wesley’s words, “What the fuck are you doing to me, angel?” pull me from the haze of lust I was contently drifting in.

When lucidity settles in, I briefly assess my current state and immediately burst out laughing. I’m standing – barely - with my cheek resting against the cold steel of the elevator wall as mine and Wesley’s cum leaks down my legs and seeps into my high heels. My skirt is ripped and hiked up over my ass and at some point my shirt was torn open and dragged down to my waist.

“Wesley Jacobs. If you think I am walking into that office, past the receptionist that swallowed your cock for breakfast, to sit behind a desk for the rest of the day, in my current, very obviously been fucked state, you have lost your damn marbles, baby.” I chuckle.

His large warm hands cover the top of my bare shoulders before turning me around to face him. He stares at me with confusion, bringing his hands to cup my face and tilt it back. “Who swallowed my cock, angel?”

I shake my head and try to pull it from his hands to no avail. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter anyway.” I exhale a long sigh. “It’s none of my business what happens between you and Rachel, Wes. However, know this. As long as there is
a you and Rachel, there will be no you and I. No fucking, no flirting, and none of this ‘Mine’ bullshit. This,” I motion at my appearance. “If this ever happens again. I’m done. Mark my words, I will walk away from Jacobs Publishing and I won’t look back.”

His expression remains confused. “Right, okay. But who the fuck swallowed my cock? Or supposedly swallowed my cock? Excuse my confusion and repetitive question, but the last person who swallowed my cock was you, Ms. Reese. So, please enlighten me. Who. Swallowed. My. Cock?”

I blink up at him dumbly for several seconds before responding. “Rachel. This morning. She met me right outside your office before I came in with bitch, slut, and lipstick smeared across her face. The only thing she was trying to wipe away was the lipstick.”

“She didn’t suck my cock! I’d rather choke the bitch with my hands to shut her up than with my cock. What the hell are you… Did she say she sucked my cock?” He growls the last part out.

“Oh my fucking God! Wesley, seriously? It doesn’t matter.” I slap the emergency button and hit P for parking garage. After I yank my skirt down and my top up, I wrap my top around me and cross my arms under my chest. Facing the elevator doors I shove the words out around the pain splintering my chest, “Just, leave me alone, okay? I thought I could handle you.  Hell, I was even excited to get the chance to. But Wes, you and I are too much. Way too much.” I look over my shoulder at him as the doors open. Before walking out, I whisper, “Let’s just stop before one or both of us isn’t able to walk away from this alive.”

I grab my bags from the floor and quickly walk to my car. As soon as I close my car door and lock them, my face falls into my hands.

And I cry…for the first time in my life, I sob as my heart shatters. 

Before I can get all the way into our apartment, Trina is practically suffocating me with her mother hen clucking. “I have been beside myself! At wits end worrying where in the hell you were! Wesley called from the office saying you were upset.” Her eyes scan me from head to toe, widening more and more until landing back to mine. Behind the hand she has covering her mouth, she whispers, “Jesus Christ, you were raped? Again?” ‘Again wasn’t a whisper, it was more of a shriek.

“No, sissy. I wasn’t raped. Again. More like thoroughly fucked, ‘Love in an Elevator’ style.” I smile sadly at her and squeeze her hands. “I just need a shower. And a bed. I’ll be fine, T. Promise.”

I walk around her and head towards the bathroom, when the saint I will love for eternity says, “I’ll pour us some wine and meet you in your room with a cup full of olives.”

Don’t ask about the olives. For as long as I’ve known her crazy ass, Trina has been popping olives between her sips of wine.

I feel a thousand times better after my shower. With the tears, cum, and most of the self-loathing washed away, I step into my boy shorts and slip a
cami on. After I brush my teeth, floss, and pile my hair into a bun, I walk from the bathroom making a beeline for my bed.

I walk into my room and see Trina sitting on the foot of my bed. She tosses a green olive into her mouth. Before she bites into it, she talks around it. “Wine’s on the table, baby girl.”

I scoop it from the table, taking a couple sips before setting it on my nightstand and flopping into bed. “This day sucked ass.”

“Ready to talk about it?” Her eyebrow
raises.

“Okay, so I lied. Or crossed my arms behind my head while crossing all my fingers at the same time I crossed my legs, blatantly in front of you, as I made a solemn vow. I’d apologize, but really, in all fairness I would’ve known exactly what you were doing AND I’d have called your ass out on it.” I give her a cheesy smile before telling her, “I love you! I really, really, really do. But I’m not ready to talk about it.”

She continues staring at me over the rim of her glass. “I’ll be ready to talk about it when it isn’t too painful for me to even try and put it into words. Better?”

“Honest?” She counters.

I make a show of nothing being crossed, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Alright. As soon as it doesn’t hurt though, I want all the
deets. Full disclosure. Every single damn thing, you hear me, sis?”

“Absolutely. Thanks for understanding. You don’t know how much I appreciate it, T.”

She sighs before standing up and making her way out of my room. “Get some rest. You’ve been fucked beyond all common sense. Believe me, rest is exactly what your poor little self needs.” Before pulling the door closed, she smiles at me, “Night, Stell.”

“Night.” I whisper before rolling over. Instantly unconsciousness steals over me, and at three forty five on Monday afternoon, I fall to sleep.

Monsters Under the Bed

When you’re eleven years old and feel love for another human being for the first time in your inadequate young life, you descend effortlessly into a web of obsession.

The demons scratching just beneath the surface of my exterior no longer sought blood. Instead, they pleaded for glimpses of Beauty.

Beauty sadly smiling.
Beauty dolefully singing the song I learned, listening to religiously, and hummed myself to sleep with every night.

Anywhere Beauty was, I could be found in the shadows, if one were to ever look or pay attention. Thankfully by eleven, I’d mastered the art of concealing myself.

And because the demons and I loved Beauty, and my social skills left much to be desired, I reverted to the only thing I knew … I watched.

I watched Beauty more than I watched the back of my own eyelids.

I watched Beauty more than I studied my Anatomy and Physiology bible.

When I wasn’t watching Beauty, I had my nose in English Lit book after English Lit book… trying in vain to find the confidence, the depth of my feelings, and the words to convey both…only to fail and give up, time and time again.

I stopped sleeping in my bed the very night that followed the day I heard her sing and I slipped on the roof trying to get closer to her.

Every night from that day on, I took my pillow and a blanket and hid them under her bed. During her bath time, I would stuff toys and clothes under my comforter and mold them into a child’s sleeping form. Then, before Beauty was finished with her bath, I would slip beneath her bed and become the epitome of still silence.

Some nights she slept peacefully. Most nights she screamed and sobbed, speaking broken hushed words of blood seeping, of blood covering, of blood dripping from her hands. And she screamed, begging for the screams to stop.

Every single night she screamed and shook the bed frame above me, I fell more in love with my Beauty.

Now that I’ve told you the first time I fell in love with Beauty, allow me to tell the story of the first time my love twisted into stained hate.