Page 28 of My Girl

A knock pounds my door, and as soon as I open it, the hookup rushes inside, smacking his lips to mine. I close the door behind him and flip off the lights—it’s the best way to disorient them—then I shove my tongue into his mouth. The taste of toothpaste and bubblegum swishes between my lips.

In the bedroom, I pull at his belt buckle. His cock bounces free, hard and ready for me.

“Fuck me,” I demand.

He complies. They always do. They’re so simple.

As his cock enters me, I grab his ass, his wallet thick in his back pocket. I don’t need the money, but there’s a thrill inside of me when I find something I can take. A picture. Car keys. A stack of cash. A card. It’s like gaining physical strength. And even if he doesn’t have cash, I can always use one of his debit cards to fill up my gas tank or get a few groceries. They never notice a charge like that.

I pull us down to the bed. The hookup moves me to the edge of the mattress so he can fuck me better, and I imagine Crave sitting in the corner of the room. Watching me. Judging me. Stroking his cock as he watches the hookup stuff my pussy. Crave’s dark and knowing eyes fixed on me, like he can peel back my skin and taste the layers underneath. He unsettles me, and yet, at the same time, he makes me feel so fucking alive.

I grab the hookup’s hand, slapping both of our hands onto my tits. The crash of skin against skin dissipates. The hookup curls his head to the side.

“You’re into that?” he asks.

“Lots of people like being spanked,” I say coyly.

He rubs his face. I grin. He’s probably hooked up a lot, but not with someone like me.

“Well.” He motions to the side. “Flip over then.”

I bat my eyelashes playfully, but a tingly sensation spreads across my arms and legs. I like getting my ass spanked—who wouldn’t?—but the hookup is acting so hesitant, and I know it won’t be enough. He must think the only place he can righteously spank me is my ass.

I flip over to my hands and knees anyway.

“Hit me,” I demand. “Hard.”

His cock enters me, then his palm meets my ass cheeks, soft, then again, softer. So rhythmic, it’s almost comical. My mind drifts in boredom, and I’m not inside myself anymore.

I’m underneath Crave while he chokes me from behind.

Be a good little fuck hole and take me,he had said.

The fuzzy images of a crowd of people surround us, like we’re performing a ritual on a sacred night. Candles flicker at the edges, illuminating their faces, but I can’t see anyone’s expression. There’s no clear detail. There’s only Crave, hidden inside of his bondage mask.

A fingertip rolls down my spine. I shiver back to reality. The hookup stops.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Was I too hard?”

“Don’t stop,” I say.

I moan, and the hookup’s pace increases. The same rhythm. A thrust, then a spank. Thrust. Spank. Switch sides and repeat. My head controls the situation again, transporting me back to the vision with Crave. Now I have no interest in even stealing from this hookup. I’m distracted. I want something else.

Your mind is on Crave because you need to ask him for help,I tell myself.He’ll have better luck with the police, and with his background, he’ll be able to steal from the police department better than you can.

These are excuses though. They’re not the real reason I’m bored of this monotonous hookup right now.

I want something more. Something harder. Something rougher. Something that doesn’t let me think. Something that rips every thought and calculated action out of my brain until I’m merely a sexual object being used for pleasure.

I want Crave.

Chapter10

Crave

On the video feed,the latest conquest hits Rae’s ass like a set of bongos. A drum. An instrument. Not a woman. Not a person. An object. Her lips pinch, her annoyance obvious. That primal need goes straight to my balls. The filthy bitch probably doesn’t see the objectification from this angle, but I do.

She glances at the camera lens in the corner of the room, and those eyes penetrate me down to my core. My cock twitches.