Sugar Plum Fairy
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Sugar - Part 2 free porn video
Robbie’s bedroom felt secluded and safe as though it’d been shut off from the rest of the world. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just lain with someone; bodies, warmth and a shared afterglow. It felt better than anything. Outside the window the day crept closer, the sky glowing with a pale early-morning hue. Two chipped mugs of steaming black coffee were balanced precariously on the edge of the bedside table.
“Why’d you turn the light off?” I asked.
Robbie shifted. “What, last night? I thought you’d prefer the dark.”
“I don’t mind,” I said and after a pause added, “I thought you didn’t want me to see you naked.”
He laughed. “What, you figured I had something to hide? Average plus, right?”
I gave him a look and he laughed.
“Right?” he asked again.
I swallowed. “I don’t know.”
His smile creased up his whole face.
“C’mon, Ally. Give me something.”
“I don’t know.” I bit my lip, trying not to smile. “Maybe, XL?”
He pressed his face into the pillow.
“God! You’re just saying that!”
I let him laugh. Maybe it was immature to talk about it. It didn’t change anything.
“Oh, really?” I pushed at his shoulder. “So you think you’d be this goddamn arrogant in bed if you genuinely believed you weren’t well-endowed?”
He looked at me.
“Ally, I said average-plus! You’re the one who had to go and exaggerate! XL! For fuck’s sake!”
“Stop acting like I’m offending you.”
“I am offended! You’re making me out to be some kind of monster!”
I laughed. “You are!”
He propped himself up on an elbow, serious all of a sudden.
“But I haven’t scared you away? In all seriousness?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
His eyes met mine and he smiled.
“You know, I always tell myself I should be happy. Grateful. Because here we are living in this city and we have food and water and shelter and there’s no fucking war or anything. And yet, I kind of have to make an effort to be happy. But around you, it’s not an effort. It’s so, so, easy, Ally. Especially right now. This moment.”
I couldn’t let the seriousness of what he was saying sink into me. It was too much. It was too good. I raised an eyebrow.
“D’you say this to every girl you get into bed?”
His eyes narrowed.
“No, actually. It doesn’t usually take this long, for a start. And then, it doesn’t feel as good or quite go to plan.”
“You had a plan?” I asked, affronted. “To what? Tie me up?”
He smirked.
“I wanted to tie you up the moment I saw you.”
“If that’s supposed to be romantic, it really isn’t.”
He smiled, his hand skimming over my side.
“Depends what your version of romance is. Is it like flowers, diamonds, love hearts and words? Or is it less pretentious than all that? ‘Cause sure it’s nice to give someone gifts and promises but it’s like someone else’s version of how you ought to treat someone you love.”
I swallowed hard as his hand moved south.
“And what’s your version?” I managed to say.
“Mine?”
His hand was resting against my leg, waiting for access. His fingers tapped against me thoughtfully.
“Just being honest. Wanting the best for them. No competitions, no games. Well, sex aside.” He laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never needed to think about it before.” His eyes met mine. “Is that bad? Would that be a deal breaker?”
“What? Not getting flowers? Uh, yes!” I laughed and he took the opportunity to move on top of me, his knee pushing my legs apart.
“You’d rather have flowers than this?” he asked. His hand moved against my snatch and I closed my eyes, pushing back against his fingers.
“Flowers versus third base,” I breathed. “Tricky one.”
He laughed, and I felt his chain slink across my skin as he moved to lean over me.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed. “Are you for real?”
“No. Just a figment of your imagination.”
“You feel real,” he mused, fingers pushing inside me. “And you definitely did when my cock was in you.”
“That was just your hand,” I quipped. “As usual.”
He breathed out a laugh.
“Why’d you make me wait so long, anyway? Did you get off on it? Imagining how I jacked off over you?”
Two of his fingers had curled inside my snatch and his thumb rested on my clit. Every time I tried to push back at him to increase the pressure, he lifted his thumb out of the way. It was maddening.
“Did you?” he asked again.
“No. I just – wasn’t sure.”
“’Bout what?”
I opened my eyes and his gaze locked to mine.
“Whether you were what I wanted.”
A shadow of understanding crossed his face.
“You just got out of something – serious?”
I shifted but his weight was on me, holding me in place.
“I – no,” I finally said, “Not serious. It was – sex. Not a relationship.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Friends with benefits?”
I blushed. “Kinda.”
He smirked. “Good benefits?”
“Yeah. Not bad. Can we not talk about this when your fingers are inside me?”
Robbie smiled.
“But I wanna know!”
“Why?!”
He pulled a face. “Call it morbid curiosity.”
“I’m not telling you anything else.”
His thumb pushed at my clit.
“Then I’m not gonna let you come.”
I huffed out a sigh and tried my best to ignore his probing hand.
“Does hearing about other men fucking me turn you on? Please tell me you’re not one of those guys.”
He laughed.
“Sorry to disappoint. No. Kidding. I guess I just wanna do everything he did to you and more so I win. It’s a male pride thing. Ego. You know?”
I groaned. “If men didn’t have cocks they’d be so annoying.”
He snorted.
“Thank God for cocks, huh?”
“Amen.”
He couldn’t stop laughing and neither could I. It was bizarre the way we were together, naked and open and drunk on sex. He wouldn’t stop with the questions, and when I tried to turn them back on him, he had all the answers. Two serious ex-girlfriends and a string of fleeting relationships. It seemed as though he wanted to answer every question I could come up with, as if this would somehow obligate me to follow suit.
“So, this guy,” he began, once I’d had enough of hearing about his previous conquests. “What’s his job?”
I sighed. “I’m not sure. He had like a country club or something. I don’t know what he actually did. He never talked much about - life.”
“Son of a bitch,” Robbie muttered. “Was he older?”
“Yeah. Kinda.”
“Kinda?” His smile reappeared, simultaneously teasing and warming. “What, was he like some sugar daddy? Did he buy you diamonds?”
“What?! No!” I pulled away from him and sat up. “I’m not some kind of – gold digger.”
“I’m kidding!” Robbie pulled me back down. “God, you’re so uptight about him! Was he a good fuck?”
I scoffed. “You’re unreal.”
“Was he a better fuck than me? Just say yes or no. I won’t be offended.” He pressed his forehead to my shoulder, trying to hide his face. “I can be better,” he mumbled. “Yesterday was – the first time. I could have lasted longer, I swear! And I was being mean. If I wanted to, I could’ve made you come like ten times before I did. So,” He looked keenly at me. “Just bear that in mind before you answer.”
“I haven’t really known you long enough to say,” I pondered. “But I’d pick you. He was kinda selfish.”
Robbie tried not to look pleased but failed miserably.
“Did he fuck your ass?”
“Oh my god!” I sat up. “You’re – unbelievable!”
He smirked triumphantly. “So that’s a yes.”
“Why do you like torturing me? I thought you were nice!”
“Oh, come on!” He tugged at my arm. “Did you like it? My ex, Sandy, she used to go nuts if I even touched her there. She’d storm off calling me a homo. Then she dated this older guy and he told me they did it. Is that a thing? Is it easier with older guys? Maybe they’re gentler. Maybe more experienced.”
I slipped off the bed and hunted for my clothes. He didn’t stop talking.
“I mean, yeah, I’m hardly a vanilla guy but I don’t wanna hurt a girl. You know? It’s all fun. It should be fucking fun, trying to pull one another out of all that jumped-up insecurity. And yeah, relationships should be about more than sex but once you hit a roadblock, once you disagree on something it becomes more and more of an obsession. This guy; did you just let him fuck your ass immediately? Or did you make him wait? Hey, where the hell are you going?”
I finished dressing and looked at him. He lay propped up on the bed, one leg bent at the knee, his hair in disarray and his weight resting on his inked forearms.
“You literally have no filter,” I said and I felt as though I should be angry but the whole thing felt too goddamn surreal. “I didn’t sign up for this kinda talk.”
“I just wanna know!” he groaned. “Come on, Ally!”
“I’m not comfortable talking about it,” I sulked. “The past is in the past.”
“It’s just talk,” Robbie coaxed, “Just words. We shouldn’t hide stuff from each other, should we?”
He stepped languidly off the bed and stretched, walking towards me.
“We shouldn’t hide stuff?” I asked. “Nothing?”
“Of course not!”
“Nothing?” I frowned. “What about – cigarettes?”
He stopped short. He tried for a smile.
“Huh. Well.”
I smiled. He narrowed his eyes.
“How long have you known?”
“Since our first date.”
His eyes widened.
“Fuck! And you didn’t even say?! I chewed so much gum! I’d lean out the window so my clothes wouldn’t get smoky. I washed my hands, used fucking mouthwash, and you knew?”
I bit my lip.
“Yep.”
*
Robbie and I didn’t consciously rush the stages of our relationship. We didn’t do anything prematurely but even so, I got the feeling that things were moving too fast. Everything seemed to go fast when we were together. I knew that I’d fallen hard for him but knowing it didn’t stop it. I felt almost as though I was taking a risk by investing myself so totally in him. I couldn’t help it. I’d had half-hearted relationships before but being with Robbie had felt different since the first date. I’d never wanted someone so badly.
I tried to be rational about it but I’d lie awake at night unable to stop imagining what our future could look like. He had to be a part of it. Life before Robbie seemed grey and unimportant; routine monotony. With him, it was a different life altogether. Even just walking in the street with him amplified the whole experience of walking. I can’t explain it. There’s something warm about being with another person, and if you like that person and they like you, there’s nothing better. Life might have been fundamentally the same as it always had been but having Robbie around changed my entire perspective on it. All of a sudden, things became brighter.
I wanted to do everything with him and I didn’t want to share him. I’d never thought of myself a particularly selfish person before but I wanted to keep Robbie all to myself. I didn’t feel as though I had to hide him but I simply did not want anyone else to steal him away from me. I didn’t want him to talk to my brother about football. And when my friends at work asked when they’d get to meet him, I always gave a noncommittal answer. Again, I can’t explain it. I just felt as though he was mine. All mine.
It sounds psychotic, I guess, like some crazy obsessive girlfriend syndrome. But it wasn’t exactly like that. I mean, he had friends. He had people he’d see and I was fine with them. I liked them. I think that beneath the surface, I was a little afraid that the people I knew might find him, well, wanting. After all, there were his tattoos. And the cigarettes. And he’d technically been unemployed since having an enormous argument with his boss at the Sky Hotel. He’d told me it was a non-issue.
“Honestly, Ally, he’s fired and hired me like ten times in as many months. It’s really not a big deal. Besides, I’m hardly broke or anything. And if I was, I could move in with you, right?”
“Me?” I’d asked, wide-eyed, thinking of my single bed and cramped bathroom
“Hey, I’m kidding!” he’d laughed. “I shouldn’t have told you. You worry too much.”
I did worry a lot. And the worry had been heightened by my impending twenty fourth birthday. The actual birthday didn’t worry me but everything that came with it did. In true tradition, I would have to go to my parents’ house. They always seemed to reiterate the fact that without them I wouldn’t even have a birthday thus obliging me to spend time with them. This made very little sense to me but tradition felt as though it should be respected and so I didn’t argue.
To make things worse, Mom had somehow received wind of the news that I did in fact finally have a boyfriend. I don’t know how she found out but for the hundredth time, I told myself I lived way too close to her and really needed to move to Canada. Or England. Or the North fucking Pole.
“So, a plus one?” she asked on the phone.
“A what one?”
I was pacing around the living room of my apartment two nights before, the phone in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
“A plus one. For your companion.” Her voice was so fucking delighted. “He will be coming, right? It is your birthday, after all.”
I could have easily prevented it but I knew sooner or later they’d meet and why prolong the inevitable?
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Plus one.”
Mom was so happy she didn’t even make a sound. When she finally spoke she sounded breathless.
“What’s his name? Did you meet him at work? What does he do? How old is he? What’s his salary?”
I looked out of the window at the rainy city.
“His name is Robert. And you can ask him the rest yourself. Bye, Mom.”
*
I thought about what to wear to the party. I thought about Robbie, too big for his small apartment, screwing around in the kitchen and experimentally baking dozens of new cakes, the bulk of which he’d inevitably donate to the homeless shelter. It did worry me. It worried me enough to add up exactly how much money I had in the bank and stare at the small figure and try to feel reassured by it. But his boss would re-hire him, right? He always did, Robbie said. Only he hadn’t. Not yet. And the wedding and birthday cakes Robbie made on the side-line were infrequent and hardly a reputable income source.
Maybe we should move in together, I mused, if only to save on the rent. But his place was way too far from my office. And my place had zero room for his gym equipment. I thought all this and thought of my goddamn father quizzing Robbie on his non-existent job and felt nauseous. It was a good thing I was a salaried worker because I got no work done all day.
*
It was a Friday night. Robbie and I had officially been together for eleven weeks which seemed like a huge amount of time. Seventy seven days. Although, if sex was considered the starting point of a relationship, we’d really only been together for a little more than half that time. But eleven weeks was damn well commendable, I told myself as I picked out my dress and shoes the evening of my birthday. I took a hasty shower, pulled my hair back into two neat braids, did my makeup and dressed, before grabbing my purse and taking a rather expensive cab to Robbie’s place.
His door was unlocked and I found him lying on the small balcony off the kitchen, shirtless and soaking up the evening sun like a cat.
“You’re smoking,” I said. A half-finished cigarette was held between his fore and middle fingers and he didn’t try to hide it.
He propped himself up on an elbow and narrowed his eyes.
“And?”
“And I don’t want you to.”
He took a long, deliberate drag and blew out smoke defiantly.
“I thought I was the boss around here.”
I smiled. “Only at night.”
His mouth curled. He took his cigarette out of his mouth and handed it to me. He watched me suck on it, a line between his eyebrows.
“Ally, I wish you wouldn’t.”
I exhaled. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
He flicked his lighter on and off. The flame flickered in the breeze. On. Off. On. Off.
“Only at night, huh?” he asked.
I crushed the cigarette against the railing and dropped the butt in an ashtray.
“Or when we’re – doing it.”
A smile settled on his face.
“Doing what, angel?” He reached out and curled his hand around my ankle.
“Robbie.”
“Yes?”
I looked down at him and he smiled that bad smile. He was so perfect that it made me hurt.
“We have to go.”
He shrugged. “Let’s go.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You can’t go like that.”
He blew out a breath.
“Too much skin?”
“Too much ink,” I corrected. “Look, Robbie, I’m not gonna lie. My dad will probably be just about okay with you but my mother is like, nuts. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. She will totally harass you. It’s my fault. I haven’t had a real boyfriend for way too long. You’re gonna get like murder-trial cross examined.”
Robbie rolled his eyes.
“Relax, Ally. I’ll put on a shirt. I’ll pretend I still have a job. I’ll tell your mother she’s beautiful. What’s the worst that can happen?”
*
It took Robbie all of five minutes to get ready. He splashed water on his face, ran a comb through his hair and snagged a pressed white shirt off a hanger in his closet. It occurred to me that he must have prepared it especially for the occasion.
“You look great, by the way,” he said, fingers deftly buttoning up the shirt. His dark eyes flicked down my sleeveless black dress. The hem ended just above the knee and the heels I’d paired it with made my legs look remarkably long.
“Why’d you never dress up like that for me?” he frowned.
“I thought you preferred me naked,” I quipped.
He acted torn.
“Hm. Yes. True.” He sighed. “What is this stupid party for anyway? Are your folks rich or something?”
“Not rich. Just average. And the stupid party is for my birthday, thank you Mr Boyfriend-of-the-year.”
He smirked.
“If I were rich I would’ve bought you diamonds.”
“If I cared about diamonds I would’ve loved them.”
He smiled. He had in fact given me a gift that morning; a simple silver chain which currently hung around my neck. It seemed like a more delicate, more feminine version of the chain he wore. Needless to say, I loved it.
“I did make you a cake,” he said.
I stared at him.
“You made me a cake?”
“Ally, I’ve been home all day,” he laughed. “What the fuck did you expect?”
The cake looked exquisite. The base fondant covering it was white and on top was a glass on its side. It’d been iced to look as if the glass had spilled its contents over the cake.
“It’s meant to be like lemonade,” Robbie said, referencing my never-used safe word. “I tried to figure out a way to make the glass out of sugar but it didn’t work so you got a plastic cup. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said, transfixed. “It’s – incredible.”
“Is it?” He sounded immensely relieved. “It’s lemon flavoured. I figured we could take it to the party. Unless you want it all to yourself.”
“What, so I eat it all and get fat and insecure and never leave you?” I laughed. “I knew you had a hidden agenda.”
Robbie was frowning at the cake.
“I don’t know why I made the lemonade spill. I was fucking around. It doesn’t mean anything. Don’t read into it. It’s just a cake, okay?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not. It’s the best cake I’ve ever seen.” I reached up to kiss him and his hands automatically dropped to my ass, pulling me into him. His mouth was hungry on mine and when I tried to pull away, he held fast.
“Is that all I get?” he teased, his lips against mine. “One little kiss?”
I kissed him again and he deepened it, tongue swirling against mine. I felt him bump me up against the wall and his hands dug a little harder into my ass. I tried my best to pull my head to the side.
“We should really go,” I said breathlessly. “My mom’s a teacher. She’s like crazy about punctuality.”
“We’ll go,” Robbie assured. “In a little while.”
His mouth tried to find mine again and I was very aware of the hard pressure against my stomach. I felt my insides spin. Oh god. Not now. He was hard and I was already turned on. I tried to pull away again. I felt him laugh into my neck.
“Relax,” he breathed. “We’ll be what, half an hour late? Traffic is crazy at this time anyway. We’ll be paying the driver for staying in first the whole way.”
His hand found the hem of my dress and he shifted to pull it up.
“Robbie. Don’t. Not now.”
His teeth scraped across my neck.
“I’m the boss, remember? And it being such an important day, I figured we could step things up.”
My heart thumped beneath the pretty dress. I didn’t have to ask what he was insinuating.
“We’ll be late,” My voice was weak. I felt his fingers move up my thigh and push hard between my legs. I blew out a breath and his hand slowly worked its way past the lace of my underwear.
“You’re so wet, angel. And you’re trying to say no?”
His finger slicked backwards and pressed against my knot.
“C’mon, Ally.” He was all I was aware of. His voice, his touch, his smell. “Lemme in, huh?”
The thumb of his hand was pressing against my clit and moving in tight circles. His free hand was clamped to the small of my back, preventing me from pulling away.
“Don’t,” I gasped. “Please. Not now. Later. After.”
“You’ll let me fuck your ass after the party?” His thumb pushed hard against my clit and I whined. “You promise?”
I nodded but he didn’t let go of me.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he hissed. “All dressed up and all mine. God, you love making me wait, don’t you?”
The hand at my back disappeared and I heard him ease down the zipper of his jeans. He shifted, bending a little and then the head of his cock was pushing inside me, too fast but not fast enough, stretching and filling me until I moaned. I leaned my head back against the wall and he pressed his forehead to mine, his hands digging into my hips.
“You fit me so good,” he growled. “So tight. So perfect.”
We fucked so often that it should have gotten old. But it hadn’t. It never did with him. He ground into me wetly, making me feel each inch of his throbbing cock before we figured out a rhythm. Even though his hands were holding onto me, every thrust bumped me back against the wall. It felt fluid; natural in a way, but rough, too. My hands were around his neck, clinging on and dragging at his shirt; trying to find a way to dispel the pleasure that each measured thrust sent through my body.
The faster he went, the faster my heart pounded. I clenched around him, trying to push him to the edge but it seemed to have no effect; he only fucked harder.
“Robbie.” My voice was weak and barely audible over his harsh breathing. “I can’t – it’s too much.”
He didn’t stop. One of his hands scrabbled down between our bodies and found my clit, fingering it urgently.
“Aren’t you gonna come, angel?” he hissed. “Or are you saving it for when my cock’s in your ass?”
I couldn’t have stopped it if I’d tried. His fingers worked me relentlessly, not even slowing when I came. He didn’t stop fucking either. I was over-sensitive, but even as I tried to twist away from his hand he didn’t let up, urging me on until I came again, clenching desperately around his thrusting cock. It was enough to make him lose control. He pushed hard inside me, burying himself totally as he jerked and came, grunting out his release.
“Fuck.” He let me go after a beat and looked down at me, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile.
“I think I need a cigarette,” he murmured.
“I think I need a shower.”
*
We were late. The post-fuck clean up had been hectic and the cab had taken a good few minutes to arrive. By the time it pulled up outside my parents’ house, we were almost forty-five minutes behind schedule. Still, it didn’t seem to matter. The front door was open and classical music was playing, people mingling and clinking glasses. Robbie shadowed me into the kitchen and set down the cake. Back in the main room, I spied Mom heading thunderously in my direction.
“That’s my mother,” I said to Robbie. “Just play it cool, okay?”
“Hey, relax,” he said, for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Who’s that guy coming over?”
“What guy?” I frowned.
“Two o’clock. White guy with a tan.”
Mom had been momentarily intercepted by a guest. I glanced over to where Robbie had directed.
“Which guy?”
“Too late,” Robbie said and I turned my attention back to my mother. Thankfully, she was engrossed in conversation with one of my old school friends.
“Hey, Ally,” I turned to see Scott Banks approaching me. Scott. My mind flashed hazily back to out brief, intense time together. The room seemed to go a little out of focus.
“Hi,” I managed to say.
Scott looked at Robbie and then back at me. He seemed very pleased with himself.
“So, princess,” he smirked. “How the hell have you been?”
To be continued
Lizbeth
- 02.05.2020
- 23
- 0
- Category:
- Reluctance
