Page 64 of The Man Upstairs

“Good. It would kill me if I tried.”

The passion in his words spurred me on like a frenzied version of me that had never seen the light. I circled my hips in counter to his, letting the pressure build and build through the pain. I clenched my pussy as tight as I could, and he groaned. Loud.

I was so proud of myself as his breaths became hisses, and his cock started pumping back and forth. He was reaching the edge and I was deliriously happy, smiling as he planted his mouth on mine. I kissed him as he came inside me, my tongue still seeking his as he grunted and groaned and lost control. It was bliss. Pure absolute bliss, and I was alive. I wasme.I wasHIS.

I was the happiest girl on the planet as he peaked and exploded. And then he collapsed. His full weight on mine. We lay there, in the glow, with his cock still inside me.

I loved his heat. I loved him.

I whimpered as he finally pulled out and moved down the bed to take a look at me. My pussy was throbbing sore.

“Ow,” I said still wincing, then shuffled enough to see blood on his new white sheets. “Shit, sorry,” I said, but he looked at me with such adoration that it gave me a lurch in my stomach.

There was something else there in his eyes, too…

They were dark and raw as he moved his head between my legs.

“What are you–” I began, before insanity piled on top of insanity.

His tongue lapped my used, bleeding pussy in one long sweep.

“More,” he said. “Push down, sweetheart.”

I did what I was told, felt wetness between my thighs, slick, and I knew his cum must be spilling out along with my blood.

And there he was… the filthy man upstairs. I saw thehimthat must have taken the sordid photos of the girl in the wardrobe. He cleaned up my blood and his cum with his tongue, his stare on mine, and I was open mouthed, lost. Possessed by the dirty sight of him.

“I told you,” he said when he was done. “I’m not the man you think I am.”

But fuck that. I wanted it all along with him. I wanted the filth as much as he did.

With desperate hands I pulled him up, and I kissed him. I didn’t want to be an innocent little girl. I wanted to be dirty. Like him.

We were both gasping by the time he finally broke our messy kiss. He rolled onto his back and took hold of me, hugging me tight to his side.

“My God. This is madness.”

The tension eased to a stillness, with just our breaths sounding out as the reality of the situation really dawned.

Julian, the man upstairs, had taken my virginity… and then he’d cleaned up the mess. With his mouth.

I let my fingers stroke up and down his chest, still processing the fact that I had my saviour’s cum inside me. I was still revelling in the pain of the aftermath. My pussy was so sore that I knew I’d be wincing when I tried to walk.

I don’t know how long we were lying there, but there was peace amidst the craziness. I found I was smiling, laughing a little as he squeezed me tight.

Then I said the stupidest thing ever.

“Wow.”

He laughed along with me. A genuine laugh.

“Wow, indeed.” His eyes were warm on mine, that dirty lust gone. “I think it’s time for those coffees, don’t you? Let’s actually go through with them this time.”

He was so gentle as he helped me up from the bed. I was laughing as I flinched with every step, proud of how sore I felt after taking him. He left me standing just a moment as he took a fresh shirt from his wardrobe and buttoned me up in it. It was lovely, back in the zone of being taken care of.

My thighs were slippery as I padded through to the kitchen with his hand in mine.

“Stay there,” he said before navigating his way through the broken mugs. Still naked, he swept them up and wiped up the coffee, dumping the shards into the bin before grabbing two fresh mugs. He flicked on the kettle all over again. He was watching me as it boiled.