11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

D id he just come in his pants?

I blink rapidly, attempting to clear my lust-idled brain.

There was a short, grunting sort of groan that he tried to muffle with his palm. I suppose it could have been a cough or sneeze, but as I watch a dark, wet patch bleed through his gray velour pants, I know I'm right.

Holy shit.

Fred just came in his undies, and I didn't even have to touch him.

That's so fucking hot, yet I can't help the trickle of disappointment that settles in my gut. I wish all that creamy goo was inside my barren womb, not wasted in his tracksuit.

Oh well, there's always next time, my brain worms whisper as my stomach worms gurgle in disagreement. I grimace. Seems they're hungry for some of Fred's spunk, too.

My entire body is trembling. My thighs are burning with the force of a thousand suns, but I can't bring myself to move away from him.

I can't believe this is really happening. How did my life change so drastically in just a few short hours? Earlier today, I'd been cautiously optimistic about my life. Things are going well at the bookstore, I have the best friend in the entire world, and the duck book drive is going incredibly. I'm healthy, mostly happy, and relatively successful.

My life is— was —just fine.

The only thing missing was love. After spending thirty years on my own with little to no prospects, beyond the time I regretfully spent with my ex, I was beginning to worry I'd never find it. The dating app had been a last resort. Despite the facade I put on for the world, I think deep down I knew none of the men on Cummies-4-Dummies would work out. Bud proved that ten times over.

There was a moment when I'd been naked and tied to his bed, watching as he inspected my butt plug with bored, confused eyes, that I'd wondered if I should just give up on finding true love. How could a man look at a butt plug and not be insanely turned on?

And turned on, he was not.

A fact I'm thankful for now.

If he hadn't been too soft to get the condom on, he'd have been fucking me into next Tuesday instead of screaming like a little bitch for his mommy. Yes, the man called for his actual mother when he lost the plug deep in my sphincter.

I thought my life was over when Bud abandoned me, but as I blink down at Fred, I realize that my horrible date from Hades was likely the best thing that ever happened to me.

Fred Bates is…

Perfect.

He's sexy, strong, smart, and most of all, he's mine.

"I'm going to lick you," he murmurs, answering my earlier question.

My body is yours, Fred. What are you going to do with it?

Shit, I can't believe I said that. Normally, I'm not so forward.

I swallow hard, ignoring the burning pain in my legs. Thank god I spend so much time using my thigh master. Otherwise, I'd be a limp noodle by now.

"Lick me?" I have to breathe through a heavy wave of lust at his declaration.

"Yes. If you want me to." He hesitates, suddenly looking nervous. "Can I lick you? Eat you? Swallow down your tangy nectar?"

Hell yes! My clitty tingles as my back entrance clenches around his frozen fingers.

Move! Please, please, just move!

I know this entire thing is supposed to be serious, that he's looking after me. I know he's practically a stranger. But the second Fred wheeled himself beneath me, looking like the hottest mechanic I'd ever seen, I've been turned on. Hell, I was turned on long before that. I've been dripping for Fred Bates all damn night. Now, the ache is deep and painful. I'm so wet, I feel like a lubed up bowling lane, and I'm desperate for him to rocket into my pin cave like the shiny ball he reminds me of.

"Please," I practically beg. "You don't have to ask, Fred. You can do whatever you want to me. I want it all!"

I expect him to dive in, and for a second, I'm worried I might actually faint if he doesn't, but the look on his face has my aching body and throbbing womanhood falling to the wayside.

"What's wrong?"

His thick throat bobs. "I have to tell you something."

I adjust my legs and my knees pop. "You can tell me anything."

I grip his thighs, rubbing soothing patterns. His one-eyed cyclops jumps and I barely resist the urge to yank his pants down and ride him. He just came less than a minute ago, and he's already hard again. Or maybe his red rocket never softened.

My kitty flutters.

With stamina like that, he'll be lucky to ever get me off his cock.

"I-I—" He licks his lips and closes his eyes. His chest is rising and falling with labored breaths, and my heart races in concern. What the hell is he about to say? And why is he saying it now? Shit. This is bad. So bad. "I'm a virgin!"

I suck in a sharp breath and my world spins. I tighten my hold on his legs and my fingers brush his sticky pecker accidentally. Unable to help myself, I run my thumb over the wet patch that bleeds down his massive thigh. Yummy!

"I know you probably hate this," he wails. "Hate that I'm only twenty and inexperienced. Hate that I'm bald and big and rich and short. Everyone does!" He blinks up at me with terrified eyes. "But I've done research. I swear, Story. I'll make this good for you. I'll make you come so much, you pass out from pleasure. I'll fuck you until you can't walk. I'll make you so damn happy you forget what I look like, and how much money I have, which is a lot, by the way. Like a disgusting amount. Like I could buy the planet and still have money left over." He gasps for air and continues to ramble. "And full disclosure… my dick is only five and half inches long, but it's pretty thick and I've practiced using it. Like, a lot of practice." He blushes. "On a pocket pussy. I, uh, have a bit of an addiction."

"Fred, stop," I interrupt, struggling to process his insane barrage of admissions. His jaw snaps shut, and he cringes, looking seconds from running away. I take a slow breath, working through what I want to say and how to say it. "Can you do me a favor?"

He bobs his head and I give him a reassuring smile as I continue my soothing patterns on his cummy leg. I want nothing more than to suck his flavor straight from the material of his pants, but I put a pin in that idea for the moment.

"Breathe for me," I instruct. He does, taking in a few gasping breaths before finally relaxing. "That's my good quiche. Now, I want you to listen and listen well. You got me?"

"I got you," he murmurs.

His fingers pulse inside me and I briefly consider how ridiculous this situation is, but the thought disappears when pleasure shoots through my ass.

"First off, I'm thirty, so it's good to have our age gap out on the table. Does it bother you? Because I'm perfectly fine with it." It means he'll be able to fuck me good until we're old and gray. Hell yeah.

"I'm good, too," he agrees, shifting his fingers again.

I swivel my hips, unable to control myself as my thoughts go sluggish the hornier I become. Who am I kidding? I'm always horny.

"Secondly, you're the hottest man I've ever met" I pant, bouncing on his digits. My eyes flick to his cumstain and my mouth waters. I bring my damp fingers to my mouth and suck his flavor from my skin.

Fred gasps. "Did you just—"

"Yes, and I want more," I whine. Shaking my head, I bend to look at him. "I don't care about any of that shit, quiche. Your money doesn't matter to me. I want you. All of you. If you don't know how to fuck, I'll teach you. If you want to try something, I'll let you. Anything you want, I'm yours."

"You're incredible," he mutters, licking his pillowy lips. "I'm so lucky I found you. I'm never letting you go."

Good, because I feel the same.

I swallow hard, realizing I have some admissions of my own.

"I own a bookstore with my best friend. I read books voraciously but can never make it past the third chapter. My ex left me for my parents and their dog, so I have no one besides a few friends. I live in a small run-down house because all my money goes to my business. I'm addicted to coffee, french fries and sex. I can't go more than a few hours without getting myself off and right now, I don't care about anything but feeling your tongue on my cunny and your fingers in my ass." I suck in a sharp breath. "Now, do we need to keep talking, or can we get to the good stuff?"

It takes a second for his brain to process my words, but when he does, he snaps.

I cry out and my head falls back as Fred latches onto my beaver dam with his teeth. He sucks my flesh into his mouth like a starving man does with a steaming hot burger. The sound of him slurping my juices from my curls is obscene and it sends shivers across my heated flesh.

"Oh, God!" My fingers fumble for his pork whistle, needing something to hold on to as pleasure rockets through me. "That's it, baby quiche! Now fuck me with your tongue!"

He does, slipping his hot flavor muscle into my channel, devouring me like I'm his favorite meal.

"Fuck my ass harder," I demand, writhing on top of him. At this rate, I'll be spilling down his gullet in minutes, maybe less. With every pump, his fingers bump my favorite plug, sending sparks of ecstasy through me.

I grip his cock, groaning at how thick it is in my much smaller palm. He's right, it's not long. To be honest, five and a half inches is extremely generous, but it's thick enough that my fingers don't come close to touching.

I've never seen an actual chode in real life. How exciting!

His mouth pops off my lips and I whimper in protest, but then he lifts his hips, distracting me. "Pull my pants down, Story. I need to feel your skin on mine."

I smirk at the pain-filled demand. He's back to being bossy, it seems. I quickly yank his pants down, reveling in the massive wet patch steadily pooling in his tighty-whities.

He's so…so…

Creamy.

I sigh happily and yank his undies to his knees, exposing his wide thighs and massive girth.

"H-holy soda can!" I cry, scrambling to wrap both hands around his eggplant.

It's as soft as his velvet pants, and there are angry looking veins bulging at every turn, reminding me of my Hulk dildo at home. It's the kind that shoots out green spunk when you press a button. It's my favorite. I love sticking it to my shower wall and riding it like a rodeo star. Sometimes, I even use my vibrator while I suck it off, drinking down its delicious lime flavor.

Good thing, too, because without the practice, I'd never be able to unhinge my jaw to swallow him down or take him inside my delicate maidenhood.

I smile to myself as I pump his junk, using the copious amount of cum to glide my way. It's like Heaven knew Fred was coming for me. We're made for each other.

He chokes out a garbled sound and humps up into my fists in a familiar pattern I can't quite make out. Vibrations rocket against my sensitive flesh as he slips his fingers free from my hole and pushes them back in, adding another. God, his whole hand is practically inside me!

Bending over as far as I can, forces my stomach into a painful crunch, and, to my utter mortification, a loud poof of air escapes my truffle tunnel. I open my mouth to cry out an apology for queefing in his face, but before I can, Fred moans, doubling his effort to make me come.

Okay, maybe he didn't notice.

The vibrations continue along with his staccato thrusts and suddenly, the quiet murmur of him humming a song catches my attention. My brows furrow. "Is that the M.A.S.H. theme song?" He hums hard in agreement, and I whimper in delight. I love that show.

I shift my legs, desperate to get my mouth around his salami, but the position cracks my joints and I lose balance, falling forward to my knees with a shocked cry. Not because it hurt, but because it forced Fred deeper. Deeper into my anus, deeper into my lady cave. Deeper into my heart.

Just deeper .

"Are you okay?" he shouts, his humid breath ghosting across my darkest hole.

Pleasure fills me fast and hard, and I moan like a wanton hussy.

"Yes!" I scream as my insides tense and pulse. "I'm so close, Freddikins. I'm going to gush all over you! I feel it coming!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"Oh my God! Really? You're going to orgasm for me, bed bug?" He sounds so damn excited, so hopeful. I bob my head and wrap my lips around his tip, swallowing him down in one gulp. "Holy fucking shitballs, Story! I've never—I've never felt anything like that! Your mouth is so much better than my pocket pussy."

He's going to come, isn't he? My stomach twists painfully. No. That doesn't feel right for some reason. I pop off his dick and rush out, "I don't want you to come in my mouth."

"I don't want to either," he quickly agrees, surprising me. "All my nut butter belongs inside your baby factory. Not wasted in your belly."

My shoulders drop at his adamant declaration. I didn't realize how badly I needed to hear those words until he said them.

"Do you want me to stop, or can you hold off?" I murmur, eyeing his dick with adoration and longing.

"I—" He breaks off and sucks in a calming breath. His fingers wiggle in my toosh. "I can feel the plug, Story. It's right there at my fingertips, baby. I think—" He gulps. "I think you should stop sucking me for now and focus on yourself. Are you in any pain?"

Not the kind he thinks. I don't even feel the plug anymore. All I feel is intense desire for him. "No, I just need to come."

"And me, uh, me licking you seems to help keep your mind off the plug, right?"

I swivel my hips, groaning in pleasure. "Yes! What's the point, Fred?" God, he talks so much!

He chuckles, popping his palm across my ass cheek. I clench around his fingers and gasp. Okay, that hurt. "I'm going to make you come, and when I do, when you're flying away on the sails of the best orgasm of your life, I'm going to pull the plug free."

"Yes! Just hurry!"

"Such a needy little hot pocket, aren't you?" he murmurs huskily. "Alright, baby. Drop down on Daddy Fred's face. Lemme slurp you up."

Fuck yes!

I do as he commands, planting my hands flat on the floor. His mouth latches around both lips and his tongue slips between them, prodding at my flesh. It's messy and uncoordinated, his movements making no anatomical sense, but for some reason, it feels better than anything I've ever experienced before. I can feel him twisting his lubed up fingers around, rooting and digging through my gaping asshole. It's unpleasant, but it doesn't hurt bad enough to distract from his amazing head skills.

"I'm so close," I whine, feeling that familiar ache deep inside. It burns, almost like I have to pee, and excitement fills me. "You're doing so good, quiche! You're going to make me squirt!"

"Hell yeah," he groans, suctioning me harder.

"Use your free hand to rub my clit," I beg, rocking my hips faster. He tries, but the rhythm is too slow. I shake my head frantically. "No! Like you're spinning a record! Your whole palm, fast and hard!"

He gets it right the second time, sending me higher and higher toward the great unknown. His teeth catch in my curls, adding a slight bite of pain, and it's all I need to send me over the edge.

"Open wide, Freddikins! Drink me down like a juice box!" I demand, feeling his mouth immediately open.

I shove up to my knees and look down, watching enthralled as a massive gush of liquid sprays all over his face and chins. He keeps rubbing, moaning in delight at my taste. One orgasm bleeds into another and the world around me momentarily goes dark.

"Baby bed bug." He groans, sounding tortured. "My baby bed bug. So good. So perfect for me."

His hips pulse and I catch a small squirt of cum spray from his purplish tip. I lap it up quickly, not wanting it to go to waste.

His flavor is so yummy, it sends aftershocks rocketing through me. I clench hard around his back fingers, and suddenly, extreme pleasure turns to overwhelming pain. My eyes widen and my back goes ramrod straight.

"Story?" Fred calls, his voice laced with concern. "Baby, what's wrong?"

I suck in a harsh breath. "Fred…" My stomach flips, tightens, and tumbles. Oh, no! "Fred, something is wrong." My lower back throbs and starfish flutters. It feels like…it feels like I'm going to… "Fred! Move! You have to move now!"

I grip his wide hips and slide him out from beneath me just as my cramps give way to gassy air. Thank fuck for the dolly! He scrambles to pull up his bottoms, but only gets his underwear fully on before diving to his knees in front of me. He moves to grip my face but pauses an inch from my skin.

I grimace as I catch the scent of his fingers.

But then he's staring down at me with so much worry, so much care. My eyes burn, and I forget all about where his hands and mouth have been.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I do something bad?" He blinks rapidly, his own orbs clouding over. "Tell me, baby. I can't fix it if you don't—"

"Ah!" I scream as another sharp pain blasts through me. My head jolts down to my spread thighs as realization dawns on me. "It's time, Freddy! It's coming!"

He sucks in a sharp breath. "It's coming? Right now? Are you serious?"

He shoots to his feet, stumbling over his pants twice before fixing them, and begins to pace.

"But I'm not—we're not ready, Story!" I watch as he moves to rub a hand over his sweaty scalp but thinks better of it at the last second. He rushes over to the sink and scrubs his hands twice before turning back to me. "Okay. We can do this. What do you need from me?"

"I j-just ne-need you," I whimper pitifully. Swallowing hard through another burst of scraping pain, I hold out my hand for him. "Just you, Fred."

His throat bobs. "Do you want to try to get up and push? Maybe the toilet or—"

I scream again, bearing down as the urge hits me hard and fast. I shake my head, squeezing his hand. "I think it's too late for that!"

"Okay." He nods and scoops up a few discarded puppy pads from earlier, one-handedly arranging them between my legs. "Back in the sumo squat you go. Quickly, baby."

I try to move gingerly but cry out in pain. He grabs me under my arms and helps get me into position. Dropping to his knees, he brings me to his chest and kisses my head. "You've got this, Story. I believe in you. You can do this."

I sniffle. "You won't leave me?"

"Are you kidding?" He gives me an incredulous look. "It's you and me now, bed bug. Forever."

"Forever?"

He nods. "Now push, baby."

With my eyes locked on his and our hands laced together, I do. I bear down like my life depends on it, breathing through every scrape and twinge of pain that comes. It feels like it takes hours for the plug to work its way down my loosened, oiled hole, but is probably closer to minutes.

"Is it out yet?" I cry out through panting breaths. "No, wait! I think I feel it crowning!"

He leans back, peering between my legs. Fred gasps. "I see it! I see it! Oh my God, is that a—"

"A butterfly!" I scream. "Yes! And I regret the fuck out of it right now."

The acrylic wings seem to be the biggest problem with the toy. Of course, if a person is smart and only puts it in until they reach the flared end, then it's not a problem. But some asshole somewhere decided to shove the whole damn thing in, and now, here we are!

I don't know why, but when Fred looks at me again, he's crying. His throat rolls with the force of his thick swallow. I sway, exhaustion washing over me, and it shakes him from his emotional trance.

"That's it. Keep pushing, gum drop. Right on the puppy pad. God, just like that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his chode bouncing excitedly in his pants. He's turned on right now? For some reason, it makes me feel better. At least he's not grossed out by me.

With his coaching, I'm able to work through the last few millimeters of the hard part. The second the butterfly is out, the plug slips free from my aching passage easily, falling to the puppy pad with a thud.

"Holy—" Fred breathes, his body trembling as he clenches his fists at his sides. His eyes squeeze shut as a rasping moan rattles his chest. "I—I—"

"Came?" The evidence is puddling in the crotch of his light colored pants, seeping through the material. I want to drink it down, but I'm too tired.

When his body relaxes, he murmurs an apology, but I wave him away. "I'm glad that turned you on. It's better than the alternative."

I release a grateful sigh and blink dazedly up at my man.

"You did so damn good, baby," he praises, pressing kisses all over my sweaty face. "Are you okay?"

I nod tiredly. "I feel gross."

"I know. Let me help you up. I'll run you a bath in our room and you can rest." My stomach gurgles as he helps me up. He chuckles. "And I'll make you some food."

"Nothing brown," I mutter, pointedly keeping my gaze far, far away from the mess I left. I freeze, shooting him a worried look. "Wait! I need to clean this up first. You need to go! Don't look, Freddikins! Don't—"

He silences me with a harsh kiss. It's chaotic and messy, vaguely tasting of me. I'm pretty sure I even feel a thick curl wedged between his back teeth. I don't mention it, happy he has a part of me inside him. It settles the jealous, possessive bitch inside me.

My man.

Mine, mine, mine!

By the time he pulls away, I'm dizzy with happiness.

"Shut up, Story." I shoot him a look and he rolls his eyes. "It's you and me now, baby. You're mine and that means your messes are, too. I take care of what's mine, no matter what, through thick and thin, bodily fluids and all."

"But that's not fluid," I protest, even though his words make me ecstatic. "It's po—"

"It's a part of you," he murmurs, kissing my jaw. "And I love every piece."

I let him carry me to his— our bathroom, his words running through my mind the entire way.

He loves me?

I smile.

Thank fuck.

Because I think I love him too.