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Herding Cats 4
🕑 Added 2021-11-26 22:00:00 +0000 UTCCaroline gasped at the sudden cessation of the delight he’d been causing her. She’d half-wanted that, wanted at least to think without a maelstrom of feelings inside her, but in the sudden void of sensation, it was harder to think than ever.
All she knew was that she wanted it back. It couldn’t end that way, with a sudden stop. Her mounting enjoyment… it could only end in orgasm. She had to experience the climax that went with the pleasure Brad gave her.
Caroline spread her creamy thighs as far as she could, to let Brad finger her all he wanted. Her bright eyes tightened with fear as his hand reached underneath her stretching panties. She wasn’t afraid of what he’d do to her, more how it would feel. She could so easily become addicted to how he was making her feel.
Brad pressed his mouth to hers, the force of the kiss driving her down to the floor. He held her there while his fingers danced over her groin. Her snatch, her clit, even her asshole, they all sampled his delicious touch. He was impassioned by her luscious body, so sweet and slender and lithe.
Brad set his middle finger against her asshole and his thumb in her sex. He slowly pushed in with both, thumb slipping readily into Caroline’s pussy, middle digit slowly testing her anus’s resistance. Caroline felt two shockwaves traveling up through her body; the combination was electric. She hummed through Brad’s continued, lavish kiss as both her holes were penetrated at once, fogging her mind with too much pleasure to feel discomfort.
She tore her mouth away from Brad’s and gasped, “You’re… you’re fingering my ass, you’re fucking my ass with your finger, you’re, you’re…”
Her hips jerked, thrusting herself onto how Brad was entering her, making him go further inside her body. The jolt of pleasure she got from that, from her body’s own actions, weakened the kneejerk antipathy she had against sodomy.
She couldn’t fight her own desire. Her asshole and sex quivered around Brad’s insidiously buried fingers. The more they entered her, the more they felt her tightness, the hotter she burned. Caroline couldn’t stand it, but she loved every moment of being doubly impaled by him.
“You’re making me get off, from-from-from what you’re doing… doing in my ass and my pussy… oh God… you’re going to make me… make me let you… I’m going to let you fuck me in the ass…”
“You’re not going to let me do anything,” Brad cooed to her, his voice so cool, so soothing, not at all like how his fingers were making her boil. “You’re going to beg to have my cock in your ass, my cum in your ass.”
Caroline turned her face away from Brad’s. The horrible lust she felt at that moment must show in her eyes; she couldn’t let him see it. Bad enough she was letting him finger her helpless pussy and her rectum. She couldn’t let him see… have him commit to memory… GOD, she could just imagine how she must look, submitting to this lascivious sexuality.
Tears trickled down her cheeks, but Caroline couldn’t pretend she was sobbing about being some fallen woman. They were tears of joy. She was thrilled by how good it felt. She liked the sound of… being the kind of woman who begged for things like a cock in her ass. Brad’s cock. Brad touching her. Brad saying her name with his cool, confident voice, promising that everything would be alright as much as promising she would be his. Promising that she would feel pure, decadent enjoyment of whatever he did to her, no matter how lewd.
How would she look Max in the eye after this? She was acting hornier than her friend ever had. Even Max only went into sex wanting orgasms. Caroline wanted… she just wanted…
She wanted COCK and when she felt it touch her naked thigh, big and hard and throbbing with lust for her, she came a little.
More like a lot.
About the same ‘satisfying’ amount she tried to shut up her needing body with when Max was gone and she borrowed her vibrator.
But the lingering satiation, quickening in her veins, pulsing in her skin, that felt like when she borrowed Max’s vibration and thought about Max’s body, which Caroline only let herself do when she really needed it… and it wasn’t like she was imagining or fantasizing… just remembering seeing Max get out of the shower, or in her underwear, or her cries when she brought a guy home and the walls were so thin and even if Max wasn’t really enjoying herself much (not like her with Brad) she was enough of an actress that Caroline could pretend… could, okay, fantasize… that if it were her, Max’s moans would be real, those sighs for “more!” would be for what Caroline was actually doing to her, not for a guy with more cock, more personality, more… more like Brad…
“I’m so fucked up,” Caroline moaned, not sure if she was in love with Max or with what Brad was doing to her or Brad himself, suddenly swooping in to fix her screwed up life and at least distract her from her codependent relationship with Max.
Or codependent whatever with Max. She was pretty sure Max bought at least a few vibrators for her, because Max never had trouble finding a guy and she had to know what Caroline was doing… some of the looks she gave her… she could make Caroline so flustered.
“You’re not fucked up,” Brad purred, so reassuring, so certain, and a little amused, like he was gently disabusing her of a piece of trivia she’d picked up somewhere that wasn’t really accurate. Believed Frankenstein was the name of the monster or someone said ‘Play it again, Sam’ in Casablanca. “You’ve just been through some trying circumstances. You’re in an extreme position. Like one of those fish from the bottom of the ocean. You bring them up to the surface and the change in pressure makes them look like a freak. But you go down to the deep sea, to where they belong, and you see how beautiful they are.”
Even as he spoke to her, his cock was against her leg, both his costume and hers out of the way. His hand stripped her panties off—tore them free of her body like she’d lost a second virginity. He rolled his hips in a low, easy pattern, stroking himself against her toned thigh.
Caroline was breathless with lust. She felt hypnotized—totally submissive, as she so often was when it came to sex, with not even her brattish insistence on being pleased.
Only Brad wasn’t fucking her. He was making her wait (making her beg, at least on the inside). And he was telling her… he was making love to her with his words, pleasuring her, satisfying her with everything he said.
Caroline felt a fresh wave of tears roll from her eyes. Why’d this have to be so intense? She would’ve let him just bang her. Instead he was breaking her down, stripping everything away from her, demanding all of her. Brad’s hand wiped her tears away and she wanted that as much as his prick inside her.
“Wha… what about Max?” Caroline asked.
She told herself she didn’t really care—not at a time like this—she was just groping for something to put Brad off, buy her some breathing room, not let her be a total supplicant to him. But another tiny orgasm rolled through her body; she pictured Max listening to this as she’d listened to Max. She pictured Max getting off on this like she’d…
“If you’re taking me… back to where I belong,” she continued breathlessly, forcing the words out. It was easier, better, to speak than to think. “And Max is coming with us… won’t she… won’t she…”
“Max is adaptable,” Brad soothed her. “She’ll still need you, want to be around you. I’ll take care of her. I can see how she makes you happy…”
“She does! She does make me happy! Oh God, I’m a mess, Brad, I’m sorry…”
Brad moved on top of her body, looking down at her from above, over, about to be inside: “You’re anxious. You don’t want this to be over with… but you can’t wait any longer. Can you?”
Caroline laughed at herself, teary and flustered. “This can’t have been what you imagined…”
“I didn’t imagine. I didn’t let myself. I just wanted the real you. I’m going to take care of you now, Caroline. And afterwards, you’ll feel better—you’ll know you can trust me.”
“I do trust you, Brad…” Caroline wiped her own eyes. Her mascara must’ve been a mess, but when she looked into Brad’s eyes, all she saw was desire for her. “It’s crazy, but, that sweet little kid who thought I was the greatest person in the world… it’s like he still sees me that way, even after everything that’s happened. When he should know better.”
“Let me show you how I see you,” Brad said, and kissed her again.
He’d been holding back before. Now, Caroline felt something of the real passion he had for her—his desperation to please her—his eagerness to enjoy her pleasure. It was almost embarrassing, how set he was on her, but instead of judging him, feeling superior, Caroline could only be touched by this… craving for her.
She found herself wanting to give herself over to him, not even to be satisfied herself, but just to feed this all-consuming desire he held for her. She’d be burned up for it, but it’d be like the honored dead in some primitive tribe… a venerated sacrifice that was celebrated before the fire was lit.
Her mind was reeling—crazy thoughts—but Caroline at least knew that delaying the inevitable could only ruin the magic. It was insane. She felt imprisoned by Brad’s expectations of her, enslaved by his need to please her, but none of that was a negative, it was only freeing.
His big, thick cock would invade her pussy and make her feel things… things she didn’t even know she could handle, the state she was in. And she’d come for him—had come for him already. She would come and come and come as if she lived for only that purpose.
Christ, she’d babysat for him. How had his sweet crush on her, and her toying little appreciation of his innocence, turned into this? Was it how he’d touched her—the feel of his stiff prick on her skin? Was she just hard-wired to succumb to a man in lovemaking and Brad was simply the most potent specimen she’d ever encountered? Or was it that her tits and sex and tight little asshole were conspiring against her, rebelling against her good sense after how Brad had made them feel?
How could she fight off her own body—prefer to be a neurotic mess in a cramped, filthy apartment instead of the panting, grunting, sexual animal these sweeping waves of delight were turning her into?
God, it suddenly seemed all too appropriate she’d dressed up as Catwoman. She wanted to be an animal, his animal, and her mind couldn’t diminish that want, that need, one bit. There was no point in thinking about it further. Caroline let her mind go blank. Her body had made its decision. More importantly, Brad Tarr had made his choice.
She moaned soulfully, from deep in her body: “Brad, tell me… God… tell me you like me? Don’t… don’t seduce me… make me swoon anymore… just tell me you lo—like me?”
“I like you more than anything, Caroline. But I’m not going to tell you I love you. You wouldn’t believe me. But after I’ve shown you, then you’ll know for sure.”
Comments
Shendude
Well, this is way more...intense than I expected it to be when you started.
