Cock-Tease

“Brat!”

“Ass!”

“You know, Sammie, I’m so tired of you living in this house with no–“

I turned my back on him, which really pissed him off. If there was one thing that Joe couldn’t stand it was for me to turn my back on him. But really, what hold did he have on me? He wasn’t my father or even my step-father, he was just some personal trainer who’d gotten lucky my rich divorcee mother took a liking to him.

He was thirty-eight. My mother was forty-six. I was twenty-one. There were only three of us in the house–I planned on moving out just as soon as school started again in the fall, but for now I was stuck in the same house with a man who thought that he could discipline me.

He grabbed my arm. “Don’t walk away from me!”

“Don’t touch me!” I jerked my arm out of his grasp.

“You are so spoiled!” he snapped. “Mommy and Daddy give you everything!”

“Yeah, well it looks like my mommy has been giving you plenty,” I returned, eyeing his expensive sport car in the driveway. “How much did that set her back anyway?”

“I earn every damn penny of what she buys,” he said through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what it’s like between us.”

That quieted me. I just stared at him.

He raked a tired hand over his face. “Nevermind. I hate talking to you. You’re just like her.”

“Not exactly,” I flung back at him. “I would rather die than let you touch me, you disgusting pig.”

With that I strolled out of the kitchen and out to my new cherry red Porche.

My dad is a retired pro football player. He was one of the best in the game. He met and married my mom while she was cruising the Hollywood scene trying to make it as an actress. He didn’t know about all of her addictions–drugs, liquor, men–anyway, they divorced when I was four. I spent most of my life with my dad, but when I turned sixteen, he shipped me back to my anti-depressant-dependent mother and a slew of boyfriends that rotated weekly. The only one who had stayed more than a month was Joe, and that was because you couldn’t find a sweeter gig than fucking my mother. The alimony from my dad alone was enough to make a normal man get down on his knees and thank the good Lord above.

The reason that Joe and I fight so much is real simple: we want to fuck each other. But we can’t. When I said that Joe was a personal trainer, I was shitting you. Joe really is a personal trainer–he has a devastating six-pack and arms that make your pussy soak. His body is trim and taunt and I’ve never wanted a man more than I want him.

And Joe, in spite, of what he may say, wants me too. I’ve seen the way he looks at me while I’m laying out by the pool, and more than once he’s “accidentally” walked in on my in the shower. I’m not bad either–rounded hips, large billowy tits (the only good thing my mother ever gave me), and a flat stomach. I don’t work out, but then I never really had to.

But we can’t fuck each other. So we fight. About everything–from the who left the bread open or forgot to take the clothes out of the washer. We fight constantly. Not that anyone would notice the way my chest heaves or I pant with desire every time we go at it, because without the feeling of his cock inside me, I have to deal with a good argument, and believe me, it’s not as fulfilling.

I came back later that night. A lot later like 4AM. I had gone to my friend Ronnie’s and we had decided to go out. A few drinks and a couple of macking sessions, we had come home. Ronnie had dropped me off and I had stumbled through the door wearing a tight mini-skirt and a low cut top that made it impossible to wear a bra.

“What are you doing?” a voice demanded.

Fuck. It was Joe.

“Why are you up?” I demanded. “Spying on me?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Yep.”

“Sammie, go upstairs to bed.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna,” I said looking at him eagerly. I wasn’t really drunk, just buzzing really bad. And horny as hell. Ronnie and I go out to these bars and make out at the bar and wait from stupid guys to come up and buy us some drinks. It always works, but after I get so fucking horny that all I can do is go upstairs and finger myself.

“I don’t care what you want. Go upstairs before your mother hears you.”

“You know she’s passed out. How many valium did she take?”

He looked away.

“Come on, Joe, lighten up,” I said, knowing that if I can get him to let up, I might finally get what I’ve always wanted.

“Sammie–“

With one quick move, I ripped my shirt off and stood bare breasted in front of him.
“Do you want to touch me?”

“Sammie–“

“She’ll never know,” I hissed. “Just once, quit fighting me and start fucking me.”

I was jerked up against his hard body. His mouth came crashing down on mine and his hands were everywhere at once. One hand was tangled in my hair the and the other was grabbing my tit.

Before I knew what was going on, his hand was up my skirt testing my wetness. I fairly purred at the man and lifted myself onto his questing fingers. He hit my G-Spot and I gasped loudly.

“You really know what you’re doing, don’t you?” I laughed breathily.

Joe removed his fingers from my steaming pussy to my dismay and threw me down on the stairs.

“Spread em, bitch,” he sneered.

I did as I was commanded, and for a second he just stood watching.

“Finger fuck yourself,” he commanded.

I had never seen Joe’s face contort as it did. He became something less than human–an animal and while I was incredibly excited, I was also scared. I did as I was told, my fingertips grazing my clit until shivers shot through my body.

“Put two fingers inside you,” he said, and as I looked at him, I noticed that he has his cock out and was stroking it. He did have a big cock–brutally big. It was the biggest cock I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even measure how long and thick it was. It just stared me in the face.

I faltered in my rubbing and he saw me.

“Oh, no little girl, you’ve been teasing me for weeks and now you’re going to get it,” he said in a menacing tone.

Before I could move, he was on top of me. His thick cock was poking into my cunt, not yet inside me. I closed my eyes and then he was shoving into me with such a force that tears sprung to my eyes.

“Look at the bitch cry,” he hissed into my ear. “Spoiled little brat never has had a real cock in her tight little cunt.”

My eye popped open and I stared at him with such hatred.

“You shouldn’t fucking tease me if you don’t want to get hammered,” he said in a snide voice.

Now it was my turn to change the tables. I toppled him at once, and now he was on the stairs with me on top.

“You want to fuck me?” I demanded. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

I lifted myself off of him and let gravity slam me back down hard onto his cock. It was painful and I had to keep from screaming but the look of sheer shock on his features was enough.

I did it again but by now, he was moving me with his hands digging into my thighs.

“Oh, yeah, fuck me,” he growled in a low voice.

It was primal the way we rolled back and forth on the stairs in the entry of my mother’s house. He threw me off of his cock and rolled me over and before I could warn him, he rammed his monster cock into my virgin ass.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demanded, breathless.

“Taking what I’ve been watching for weeks,” he snapped and rammed into me again. “Be careful not to wake your mother, you’d have a helluva time explaining this to her.”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

“Oh you will!” he jerked my head back and then his cock was in my face. “Suck it.”

“No!”

“Suck it, bitch,” he growled and soon the cock had forced its way into my mouth.

He began to pump in me with animal-force and soon I feel him cumming as he jerked it out of my mouth and rammed into my sore pussy and exploded.
A few minutes later he got up and left me lying sore and battered on the carpeted stairs. He walked away and I felt utterly used and completely abused.

“Well, are you coming?” he demanded from the darkness.

“What?” I asked.

“I think I still owe you an orgasm, don’t you?”