I’ve always thought relationships are a lot like seasons. They have their hot spells and eventual decline of life until things freeze over completely. Part of me was expecting that, even with Roxy. It had been the blueprint for all my past affairs. But it was nearing Christmas and I was still wrapped up in that candy cunt of hers. I felt green and boyish around her, convincing myself that life without her kind of unpredictability would fall flat and become staid. All my previous relationships had functioned at a comfortable pace and none of them had worked out, nor had the girls been able to hold my interest over the long term. With Roxy, every day was like a fresh trip down the rabbit hole.

In the beginning, peeling back her layers was exciting. We would lay awake all night talking and fucking, and exploring those little corners of each other’s minds that are so raw you rarely ever let anyone else in. She told me about growing up in Arizona, feeling trapped by the inertia of her life there. Her childhood had been a mess, but then again so had mine. My mother had left my dad when I was young, abandoning us both, and aside from teaching me how to hit the waves on the beach, he'd never had natural parenting skills. In the land of plenty, we'd always scraped to get by and I'd never had any easy handouts. I had worked hard for everything I had: a stable job that brought in big commissions, a nice townhouse in Hermosa Beach, and still enough leisure time to play when I wanted to.

Roxy, on the other hand had been far more scattered with her energies until she’d found her primary vocation - being beautiful. She told me she’d been modeling since she was in her early teens. It was how she made enough money to make the trip out to California to chase her visions of the perfect lifestyle along the coast. She loved the waves, the salty air and chill vibes. I understood the lure of wanting to start over. It made sense to follow the path of opportunities as well. There were lucrative modeling, hosting and acting gigs in and around LA and she was an easy fit on the playground of the beautiful people.

One night she brought out her portfolio and we sat on my bed and flipped through the pages of photos. I marveled at all the different faces she could pull off. She was hard, soft, and at times, even bubblegum pink.

“It isn’t as fun as you think,” she said, leaning back and lighting a joint.

She was warily observing my fascination with her photos, as though she didn’t want me to buy in to the idea too much. Maybe she feared the pressure.

“Well, work isn’t always meant to be fun,” I said absently. “That’s why it’s called work.”

She handed me the joint and I inhaled deeply.

“That’s the whole problem with the world, Leo,” she said. “It needs more fun. People need to understand that they don't have to waste their lives sentencing themselves to this dreary fate they think they deserve.”

“You really think people do that without eventually breaking free? That they’re happy chained by their own misery?”

“My mother was like that,” she shrugged. “She forced herself to stay in a shitty marriage, forcing herself to get domestic and have babies and give up on her dreams. How could she be who she really was, suffocated by all that responsibility? She was a shell of a person. A mom. An unsatisfied wife. She didn’t have time to be real. She was too busy playing the roles that fate set out for her. That’s not living, Leo. That’s just surviving.”

She was wistful then, looking out my bedroom window at the sheets of rain coming down against the glass. Roxy was like a child sometimes, vulnerable for fleeting moments. I should have appreciated them for what they were, rather than trying to force the sun back into her brooding gaze.

“But you’re free of all that now, aren’t you?” I said. I set the portfolio down and pulled her legs toward me, making her slide across the sheets until she was bound up in my arms. “That was then, this is now.”

She took the joint back from me and inhaled, blowing the sweet smoke into my mouth as we kissed.

“I’m always free, Leo. That’s one thing you need to remember about me.”

Her lips brushed mine, leaving me hungry, before tossing her head back with a giddy smile.

“Life is a trip, Leo. A fun fucking trip. That’s my life’s motto; you can put it in print. That’s why I came to the coast. I have a different philosophy, bigger dreams…”

“Uh huh,” I teased, sucking the skin along her neck. “And what dreams are those? They seem to change every week.”

She laughed and pushed me down on the bed, straddling me and leaning in. I watched the stars dance in her eyes. There was no burnt out sky, no jaded fade in that pretty green gaze of hers. It drew me right in.

“This week it’s to be your dirtiest fantasy. Then next week… who knows.”

She shrugged off hard questions with all the innocence in the world, like a playful kitten. It was disarming and it let me become intoxicated with who I wanted her to be. Roxy’s game wasn’t meant to be deceptive. All along, there had been open clues that she was more of a predator than a kitten, but she was easy to forgive because the high points in our relationship had been so fantastic. When we were good, we were great. And let’s be honest, everyone comes with some baggage, don’t they? Who was I to judge?

Instead, I put the blinders on, explaining things away in my head and embracing her flaws. I ignored the way she drank my liquor cabinets dry and the telltale white powdery residue that lingered in obvious scrape marks on the black laminate bathroom countertop. I liked to smoke a joint or two during downtime, but Roxy had other vices. Still, it would have been hypocritical to blame her. And really, it was just part of the hedonistic social scene, of being young and reckless, coupled with the ‘work hard play hard’ mentality. It’s just that Roxy never seemed to bother too much with the ‘work hard’ bit.

“I’ll get to it,” she promised, rolling over in bed. “My agent isn’t giving me priority. He’s trying to book me for things that really aren’t my style.”

“Maybe you have to work your way up to that. I mean, get in with the right people, show you’re dedicated, that you’ll be there on time and work with the clients.”

“I’m not going to be a sell out,” she insisted. “There’s far too many of those types already.”

Her modeling jobs were scant and the casting calls she went on became more and more of a rarity. She was certainly pretty and charming enough to compete on that circuit but she was undisciplined, preferring the beach and surfing to returning calls from her agency and following up on job opportunities. Roxy would happily wake up at 5 a.m. for dawn patrol at the beach but she’d roll over and push the snooze alarm for an early morning appointment. She was usually still naked and tangled in the sheets by the time I’d showered, put on my suit and was heading to the office.

Money was an obvious issue, but she was clever about maximizing her opportunities. She would borrow my credit card to get groceries on the weekends and then slip in a little binge shopping, which she then blamed on me if I got angry with her. She was bored. What was she supposed to do in between playing my ‘maid’ and ‘sex slave’? In reality she wasn’t any of those things. I didn’t want to remind her of the charges for house cleaning I’d found cleverly billed under a different name. She would just turn things around and claim I didn’t trust her, trying to bait me into another argument. When I did yell back, she’d use those moments of guilt as a deflection to pilfer bills from my wallet without having to be accountable for it. In a way, she was a fool to think I hadn’t noticed that. And in more important ways, I was an even bigger fool for not addressing it.

Roxy knew the way to appease me and keep me under her spell. She would push me down on the bed, milking my cock with that exquisite pussy. My hands would slide into her hair as she leaned over me, letting me watch the rise and fall of her breasts as she bounced her thighs against my hips.

“You wanna fuck me, don’t you? Punish me for being such a bad girl, Leo. Fuck knows, I deserve it.”

She’d goad me, looking to provoke a reaction. It was almost like if she worked me up into anger and when I finally let it out, it would be a kind of fair penance in return. I would have been resistant to such self-destructive motives if there wasn't this little hitch that kept me intrigued. I began to realize that it wasn’t just that she wanted to pacify me or make things right between us after an argument or confrontation - she genuinely got off on it. There was something that came alive in her when she’d push me past my breaking point and the passion got really rough. It wasn't punishment anymore. It had started to become our natural way of communicating.

She would draw my hands around her own neck, squeezing my knuckles until I held them there. She would ride and pump my cock like a piston, until screams were in her throat and her juices bathed my balls. And then I would seize her. I couldn’t help myself. I’d roll her over and pin her to the bed, one hand vise-like around her neck, the other shoved under the arch of her back, fighting with the sheets until my fingers were knuckle-deep in the tight little resisting knot of her ass. I’d drive myself into her cunt like a demon eating her soul from the inside.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Fuck, yes,” she’d cry, squirming deliciously beneath my weight. Eventually I would use a leather belt to fasten into makeshift cuffs, wrapping them around her tiny wrists and binding her to the open slat in the headboard of the bed.

“Have you ever fucked other girls like this, Leo?” she would tease, running her long tongue along my chest as I leaned over her, pulling the leather straps firm. She would leave soft little bite mark indentations on my pecs when I got too close.

“Not quite. Then again, I’ve never had a little hellcat like you before either,” I'd growl hotly into her ear. “Have you ever fucked a guy like this?”

There was a soft giggle before she'd whisper her answer back. “Always.”

Then I would feel her body shiver beneath me, anticipating the turn of energy. My teeth would graze her neck a little more intensely as I sucked the soft flesh while she defiantly bucked up under me, always pushing for more. I would move lower, engulfing her nipples in my mouth, diving from one to the other. My fingers would dig into the flesh of her thighs as I slowly made my way down her gorgeous body. I would tease her pussy, keeping her on the edge even as she whimpered and was lifting her hips off the bed, trying to tempt my tongue.

There were countless times I would keep her there, tethered and tied. I enjoyed having her under my control. I was excited by the heat in her eyes and the way she’d beg me to fuck her. I would slap her pussy until it was puffy and pink, inhaling her sweet musk before running my tongue along her slit. The more she struggled, the more I wanted to subdue her.

Part of me enjoyed debasing her too. There were times I would position her on the bed with a pillow under her neck, forcing it to arch at an angle. Then I would push my cock past her lips, hearing the wicked wetness of her tongue as she sucked me.

“Think you can take more?”

I rarely gave her a chance to answer. It would just be an obscene gurgle as I bore down on her mouth, feeling my shaft sinking into her throat. God, how I loved to fuck her mouth. I would thrust into her until I had nearly bottomed out and my balls were against her chin. I would call her filthy names and nearly go into a kind of euphoric trance of my own. Like faded photographs in my mind, I can still bring up those snapshot images of the way I saw her through my own heady lust. I can still see the flutter of her eyelids, her lips glistening with saliva and pre-cum just before it would trickle from both corners of her mouth.

And then, just when I felt like I was pressing her too hard, I would withdraw abruptly, leaving her sputtering and gasping. I’d grab both sides of her head and lean in to kiss her hard, almost violently, tasting her salty tongue. Her eyes would be wide as she struggled to catch her breath beneath the crush of my mouth and it was in those moments that I would drive my cock back inside her.

“Oh fuck yes,” she’d sob. “Give it to me harder.”

“Harder than this?” I would groan, giving her the full brunt of my thrusts until her pussy almost felt swollen around my thick shaft. We would be sweating, skin flushed red, and still she would torment me with that filthy mouth.

“Treat me like a slut, Leo. I want you to fuck me raw. Then I want you to use that belt to spank me. I’m just going to stay here, naked all day and all night for you, and you can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.”

Roxy awoke darker fantasies in me, and with them came a different kind of sexual release. It had quickly become addictive. Of course, it didn’t help that there was no off-switch with her. For all the girls that I’d known before her that fed off long intimate dinners, soft kisses and tender words, she had delighted in giving me the exact opposite. A license to fulfill every dirty fantasy I’d ever had.

I would come home from work to her waiting for me, kneeling naked on a silver leash, letting me own her tongue until dawn. We would take long kinky showers where she would let me fill her mouth with piss and I would watch it spill past her lips and run down the valley between her breasts. She had called it a sexual communion because she swore she loved me that much. On any given day, I could pick up my cellphone at the office and find an array of hardcore photos she’d snapped just for me that morning. It almost made it worth having her home all day and not out looking for a job.

Then there was the full out anger fucks. How many times had we done it? How had I not realized how hot it was before Roxy? I had spent hours fucking her ass in every conceivable position and place. Inevitably, that’s how she wanted it when she was bad. Bent over and panting, until that little muscular ring was suitably punished. Later, I’d spend hours soothing it with my tongue, amid apologies for our verbal sword fights. And she would crawl into my space at night, running her fingers along the scratches on my pecs left by her little claws. Her soft lips would find my ear as she nestled into my arms.

“Baby, I think next time you need to go harder.”

She was one long puzzling mindfuck, my Roxy. Maddening, even. At the time, I couldn’t tell if I was fucking her or if she was the one that was fucking me.

***

Things took a sharp turn on Valentine’s Day. The usual cinnamon candy artifice was lost on Roxy. I knew she was beyond sentimental tokens or easy romance. Roses weren’t her thing and she swore chocolate would go straight to her thighs. We’d be going out that night – her style - along with a trip to LA to visit one of her favorite upscale boutiques. I was letting her pick out a dress and new shoes. I’d done similar things for girlfriends in the past, but there was a difference. They hadn’t been greedy about it.

Roxy breezed into the shop like the Santa Ana winds, knowing exactly what she wanted and going straight to the off the rack couture.

“This is the one. I saw it last week.”

The dress was like liquid platinum but slippery to the touch, scandalously short with tiny straps and a plunging back. It was a hot little number, I’ll give her that. The price tag was unfathomable for a scrap of pretty fabric, but the moment I hesitated, those doe eyes and coquettish pout were doing their thing. She was like a giddy child when I handed her my card. She went up on her toes to rain kisses on my mouth before snatching the dress and the silver stilettos she’d chosen and taking them up to the counter.

“You’re going to love showing me off; admit it,” she said later on the ride back to Hermosa. She put her feet up on the console and leaned back, soaking in the late-day sun.

“You should invite some of the guys. Get a group out.”

“I think Noah’s doing a dinner thing with his girlfriend,” I said absently. “You know, like normal couples.”

I didn’t even glance her way to confirm the eye rolls.

“You mean boring couples,” she corrected. “You should be glad I’m not like that, you know. All candles and rose petals on the bed. Fuck that. You need a little excitement now and then to stir things up. That’s why I’m in your life.”

“I must have missed that memo,” I chided.

“Like this for example. A long boring drive. You’re just content to listen to tunes and watch the sights roll by.”

“Hey, I like my tunes!”

“Fair enough,” she said with a grin. “But I’ll bet you like this even more,”

She reached into my lap and unzipped me, slipping her hand inside my jeans and expertly working my cock. Soon, I was hard and pulsing in her grip. I struggled to stay focused on driving, trying not to swerve as she leaned across the console into my lap, freeing my cock and flicking her eyes upward teasingly.

“Let’s see how you do with a bit of distraction,” she said.

Her tongue slithered over the head of my cock and I exhaled deeply. Soon her cupid lips were engulfing my shaft, her blonde head bobbing up and down. Her sucking was merciless and I found myself squirming in my seat.

“Goddamn, Roxy. You’re going to make me go off the road.”

Not that it stopped her.

My cock plunged almost to the back of her throat. I could feel the heat of her carnivorous mouth, the juices of her saliva lubricating my cock right down to my balls. Even her tongue seemed to grip me. I put one hand on the back of her head, feeling beads of sweat at my temples as I gave in to the pitch of my own rising orgasm.

Cars screamed by us as I bucked up into her mouth, pulsing and twitching until I eventually exploded. I bathed her tonsils in an almost violent way, as though the sperm jettisoning into her was making a point.

“Fuck,” I sighed, still breathing hard, trying to find my pace with traffic again.

“Fuck is right,” she purred. “You taste so good, baby. I could suck you anytime, anywhere,”

I felt her slippery lips near my ear as she kissed my neck. Then she leaned back again, abandoning the moment of pleasure just as quickly as she’d begun it.

I caught her staring out at the fireball of sun setting over the coastline, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze.

“Maybe you should invite Zane tonight,” she said casually. “He probably has nothing to do.”

She said it in such a dismissive way that I thought nothing of it at the time. Clubs and parties were always best done in groups and I assumed she wanted to blow it up, bottle service, all eyes on her. Being the best Roxy.

“Yeah, I guess I could do that.”

“Besides, he’s always good for a bit of fun,” she said with a faint smile.

I was still in my delusional post-orgasmic bliss back in those days. I’d had her for almost a year, and couldn’t quite come to grips with the fact that our season was just on the cusp of change. I think she knew, even back then, that we were at about the 4 o’clock mark on our relationship. The sun wasn’t at its brightest anymore and there was the faintest chill in the air.

I was ripe for a blindside.

***

The club we ended up at that night was a Hollywood hotspot that stayed open until dawn. You had to know the right people and Zane had all the connections. The bottles of Grey Goose and champagne were flowing. Noah and his girlfriend came by at around 2 a.m., and soon the hangers-on types were joining us too. Acquaintances, buddies, club friends and the ones you never saw in daylight hours but swore were some of your 'besties' by twilight, had begun to crowd our table behind the velvet ropes.

Roxy was in her element, being the ultimate party girl. She glittered under the lights as she danced, her long blonde hair and golden skin set off by the platinum sequins. Even from afar, it was easy to become visually fixated on the easy way her hips moved and the way her back would arch while winding her body, those long bare legs just slightly apart. Caught up in the music, she had a habit of letting her hands slip over the soft skin of her thighs to tease the hemline of her dress a little higher, almost to the breaking point of being scandalous.

She was something to watch.

“Damn, your girl is fine,” Zane said, as he dropped down beside me on the couch. “And it pains me to admit that, you know. I see a lot of hot young things in these parts, but fuck yeah. She’s a wild one.”

“Impossible to control though,” I said, keeping my eyes on her as I noticed the sharks beginning to circle her on the dance floor.

She was a natural tease with strangers, but she especially enjoyed raising my blood pressure, as she knew her actions would. It was a game of jealousies we played, with her claiming I was a slave to them and me trying to disagree with her. The more I balked at the suggestions, the more she was intent on proving me wrong. There was an implicit little thrill for her when it came to inviting more attention and enjoying my discomfort. She gave me a little smile as she turned up the heat with her moves, showing off and making the boys sweat.

“You don’t want to ever totally tame a girl like that,” Zane said, his eyes locked on her as he downed another round of premium vodka and Red Bull. “Enjoy it for what it is, and then get out while you still have your head straight.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it under control.”

Later, nearing the early hours of the morning I began to get tired, nearly nodding off as I slumped into the corner of the sofa in the VIP. Roxy was still flying high, as were most of the partygoers. I might have been the only guy there that was strictly imbibed on alcohol. Roxy was disappearing into the bathroom more and more often and the nose candy was being passed around to everyone but me. She’d tried to get me on board, claiming it was a special occasion and I was obliged to keep up, but I had given up the hard party favors years ago. My friends knew this and respected it. Roxy however, did not.

“Let’s go home and have some fun,” I coaxed, my eyes bleary from the endless train of vodka shots.

“It’s still early,” she cried. “I’m too wired to go home yet. Please, you promised. Just tonight and I’ll be a good girl for the whole year, I swear.”

I shook my head at the empty words, but I was too tired to argue. I settled back onto the leather couch and let her do her thing. My brain was already shutting down. The noise, the music, even the loud conversations were becoming a lullaby, no longer assaulting my senses. I was drifting in and out of sleep, barely noticing the commotion when it all began.

It was Zane who first woke me, his hand slapping my thigh, trying to rouse me. “Fuck, dude. Wake up. Are you watching this?”

I was drunk. Really drunk. My eyes were half slits, opening tentatively, barely able to focus. The table had been cleared of bottles and half-finished glasses of alcohol and I caught the glimmer of silver stars in my vision next to shiny black edges. It took me a few moments to realize that I was looking at two sets of shoes, black lacquer stilettos and Roxy’s shimmery silver pair that I’d dropped two grand on earlier that afternoon. They were both up on the table and my gaze traveled upward along two sets of long bare legs.

Roxy was dancing on the table with a girl. I had seen them going back and forth to the bathroom and assumed they’d become party friends that night but it was clear they were enjoying a little more than that. I later found out her name was Gia, another hot girl from the Hills, with a privileged upbringing, spoiled by men who found her pretty enough to invest in. I immediately saw the attraction for a girl like Roxy, and it wasn’t just a physical reaction to her long black hair, rich olive skin and lash-fringed dark eyes. In a way, Gia mirrored everything she wanted, and in turn, that made her something to want as well.

The remainder of our party inside the VIP ropes were perched on chairs or standing slack-jawed, caught up in the voyeuristic thrill of watching two beautiful girls at play. There were whistles and cat calls as their hips began a slow grind together. I, on the other hand, was squirming, having an internal argument with myself to let it go, that I would look like a complete ass for intervening on some harmless girl-on-girl fun. Even the most possessive of boyfriends was expected to have a laissez faire attitude to things like this.

It wasn’t quite the idea of it that bothered me or awoke jealous instincts, it was the notion that it was meant to titillate a wider audience. It wasn’t for me, and it wasn’t even for her. They wanted the attention, the knowledge that cocks were getting hard, and that fantasies were being spun in heads. Maybe it was their way of punching their tickets for more opportunities, more popularity, and ultimately more handouts.

And yet, despite my discomfort, I let it go on. That’s still on me. She knew I was watching too, absolving herself of any wrong-doing because it was out in the open. Roxy caught a handful of Gia’s long dark mane and pulled it together at the base of her neck like a ponytail so that all eyes had a better view when they mutually leaned in for a long, shamelessly open kiss. Anxious arousal flared through me as well. I couldn’t resist having a reaction to something like that. I’d watched girls kissing on the club circuit all the time but this was the first time that it was my girl. College girl kisses were often tentative or drunken and sloppy, but this one was skilled and hot. Well matched in both beauty and desire, full mouths pressed and candy pink tongues explored.

Gia’s hands were riding up my girlfriend’s thighs and I caught familiar glimpses of the curve of her hip and the underside of her firm ass. At times there was even the shadowed visual dive to her smooth snatch as she turned with Gia’s fingers still hooked under the hem of her dress. I knew Roxy wasn’t wearing panties that night and she began to grind herself against the brunette’s thigh. I imagined her clit making contact, the lips of her vulva moist against that olive skin.

My cock was rock hard and my mouth was dry. Someone handed Roxy a half-empty bottle of champagne. She giggled and exaggerated the swish of her slender hips as she put a hand over the mouth of the bottle and shook it up until it was bubbling and fizzling. Tilting her head back, she splashed it liberally into her mouth, letting the frothing bubbles and liquid drip down her chin and along her neck.

Gia was peeling down the strap of her dress and the fabric slithered down her arm, resting along her elbow and exposing one of her breasts. Her nipple was a sweet shimmering pebble under the flashing lights. Roxy let the other strap fall as well and began pouring the champagne down her neck, letting it slosh over her breasts, bathing them. Her game was obvious from the start. She wanted the public spectacle to ramp up and escalate into something really show-stopping.

Gia was the one to lick and suck the champagne from her breasts as Roxy arched her back. I watched those red lips tease the flesh of her neck, nibbling along her collar bone before her tongue slid out, rolling sensuously over Roxy’s wet skin. Gia threw a devilish smile at the crowd of admirers before she began lapping at those nipples. Even though the music was loud, I could see my girlfriend’s mouth open as she tilted her head back, pushing those perfect breasts into her mouth.

“Fuck, yeah,” I heard Zane breath. “This might be the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

I glanced at him and then the crowd, glaring at all of them. I knew the kind of fantasies they were indulging. And really, how could they not want to fuck the two lusty nymphs on the table top? I knew it was an irrational kind of blame. In fact, I would have enjoyed every moment myself if it hadn't been Roxy up there, gyrating half-naked on the tabletop with wet breasts and a wide open smile, the champagne staining that damned expensive dress and trickling down her thighs like nectar onto her silver shoes. But it was Roxy, and I could hear a distant roar in my ears, even before I moved.

It was like a crashing surf while I was being tugged underwater. Everything felt distorted. The cheers and whistles and Roxy throwing her hands up in the air to appease them all before pulling Gia in for a long passionate kiss. All I could see were those perfectly manicured hands sliding up my girlfriend’s thighs, moving the hem of the dress upward again and exposing that supple ass that was supposed to be all mine. I exploded out of my seat, no longer caring about spoiling the fun and latched onto Roxy’s wrist. She looked down at me, almost as an afterthought, bemused by the way I was intent on getting her off the table.

“Are you jealous?” she teased.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fucking jealous. Get down, for god’s sake.”

She pouted, still thinking it was a game, giggling as I lifted her off the makeshift pedestal. I pulled the straps of her dress back up while people groaned in protest.

Gia gave me a wry smile. “Nobody taught you to share, did they?”

I glared up at her and eventually she shrugged and returned to dancing, putting on a solo show as though she was the paid entertainment. Still unsettled and no longer interested in negotiating an extended curfew, I began dragging Roxy through the crowd. Stubbornly she tried to yank herself back, trying to twist her hand from my grip, but it was clamped tight around her wrist. After all our little sexual games, I’d become an expert at physically restraining her. Controlling her emotions however, was a whole other matter.

“I’m not leaving,” she announced.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I cried. “You want to get back up there and take the rest of your clothes off and finish things?”

She glowered at me. “You’re so mean, Leo.”

“I’m mean? I’m sorry if I don’t want to watch my girlfriend's tongue down someone else on Valentine’s Day and strip on a table top. Yeah, I’m fucking unreasonable. How do you put up with me, Roxy?” I was fuming now, hating her. Hating her for making me this upset when I’d sworn I’d never let a girl make me feel as vulnerable as she had.

Our argument was drawing stares, some concerned, some curious. Roxy pulled me into the hallway, finding an empty bathroom and drawing me inside. I was expecting her to apologize, but instead she was in the mood to escalate things.

“What did you think? That I was going to fall in love with Gia and leave you? Gimme a fucking break. It was harmless fun. And that’s the problem with you, Leo. You’re fucking uptight. Yes, you are. Don’t you roll your eyes at me! Everything is by the rules - do this, don’t do that. Be this; be that. You can’t force people to be who they’re not.”

“What I ask for is a little respect. It’s a two-way street here, Roxy. We’re in a relationship. Isn’t that what you wanted? To live with me, to commit something to me? That means thinking of me now and then instead of being a selfish little bitch all the time. Just consider it for five seconds. How would Leo feel about this? Or how would you feel if I was on the dance floor, with my hands up some girls skirt and my tongue down her throat?”

“It’s not the same thing and you know it!” she cried, exasperated. And then she giggled, inexplicably amused by the moment. “You’re just bitter that all those guys were watching. That all your friends think I’m a hot piece of ass. Come on, fess up. It pisses you off. You’re so fucking jealous and possessive you can’t stand the thought of them wanting a piece of me.”

She was pulling her dress up again, showing me that perfect pink pussy I’d worshipped for months before turning to expose her ass, giving me a full view as she leaned over the granite counter by the sink.

“You know how much your friends want to fuck my ass?”

“No, but I’m sure you do,” I flared, feeling my cock begin to rise.

In the dim lighting, I could see her face reflected back in the mirror. There was an unmistakable flare of arousal in her eyes. What had begun as an argument began to shift its flames the way it always did with Roxy. I recognized the subtleties of the way she was pushing back into my groin, trying to wake me up.

“I’ll bet they want me to milk them with my hot little cunt,” she mused, reached behind her to grab my hand and draw it around, shoving it between her legs. That roar was back in my ears, spurred on by her nasty words combined with the warm wetness of her pussy melting over my fingers as I pushed them inside her.

She turned her head to the side, catching my intense gaze. “Don’t hate me, Leo. I know I can be ruthless sometimes, but I can’t help myself. Maybe I just want you to notice. Maybe I even like your reactions. The way you get all hot and angry… it gets me hot too.”

Her voice was simpering and sweet now, trying to tempt me to play.

“Is that too fucked up of me, Leo? To want you to see me for who I am? Even if it means your eyes blaze red hot like they do right now? You can punish me, you know. Maybe I want it. Maybe I need it too. Sometimes I just need to get fucked hard. You’ve always known that about me.”

I could smell the champagne on her skin as she leaned back into my chest, feeling the swish of her ass against my groin, trying to throw kindling on a flame that was already burning.

“Want me to tell you what Gia and I did in the bathroom tonight?”

I inhaled sharply. “You’re pushing me in a dangerous way, Roxy.”

She smiled, sliding her hand over the granite counter top. “I sat up here, in this exact bathroom. She wasn’t shy at all. She pushed my dress up and spread my legs and got down on her knees. I was so fucking wet for her, Leo. The things she did with that tongue... sliding it all the way into my hot little cunt, sucking my clit. You should have seen it. The way my thighs were clasped against her face, my hands on the back of her head pulling her in. Damn, Leo, she knew how to eat my pussy so good.”

My fingers instinctively pushed deeper inside her, unable to get the image out of my mind. It was all being cooked up in there. Gia’s mouth on her cunt, Roxy leaning back against the mirror as she braced herself. I thought of those red lips on her clit and Gia’s hands gripping her thighs, encouraging her to ride her tongue.

“So you cheated.”

I watched her reflection in the mirror and Roxy smiled. “I didn’t cheat. Girls don’t count.”

“According to who?”

She shrugged. “According to everyone. Or at least the people that don’t always play by the rules like you do, Leo.”

She turned to me in the darkness and kissed my stone cold mouth, tugging my bottom lip with her teeth.

“Come on, it was just a bit of girly tongue,” she murmured. “Harmless.”

My hands squeezed her ass before issuing a hard slap that was anything but gentle. In the dim bathroom lighting, reflected in the mirror behind us, I could see the imprint of my hand on each cheek, like a lick of fire. She cried out.

“Do it again.”

I spanked her, layering several red prints on top of the set that were fading. Then I was peeling down the straps of her expensive stained dress and sliding them off her arms until the little platinum shift hung at her waist. I cupped her sticky breasts, plying her nipples with my teeth.

“That’s why I need you to keep your little slut in line," she gasped. "Is that too much to ask? If you love me, you would.”

“Would…” I echoed, feeling an incomprehensible desire for her. “Don’t you know me at all by now?”

“Don’t you know me?”

She leaned in to press her mouth to my ear. “I want you to fuck my ass, Leo. Right now. Show me. Show me who owns me.” Her eager hands were unbuckling my jeans, impatiently sliding them down. “Because if you don’t, maybe I’ll go back out there and find someone who will.”

“Sometimes I hate you,” I breathed.

And I did. I hated her for knowing all the right buttons to push. I hated her for tormenting me with my own damned insecurities. And worst of all, I hated her for making my blood run hotter for her than it had for any other girl before her.

I dropped my pants and roughly turned her around until she was facing the sink again. Now I was ready to create some pornography with her. I watched her face in the mirror as I slid into her from behind, gripping her shoulders for leverage, my fingers biting into her flesh. There was that smear of satisfaction in her expression, now that we’d completely come undone.

“Mmm… show me who owns my slutty little cunt,” she cried.

I held her tight, thrusting, driving myself into her with hard wet slaps.

“You’re mine, Roxy. You know that don’t you? You’ll always be mine.”

“Fuck, yeah,” she whimpered. “I want you in my ass, baby. Fuck, I need it. Please…”

I groaned, transfixed on the sheen of sweat along her the serpentine curves of her back as she leaned low, bracing her forearms on the countertop. Roxy thrust her juicy little apple bottom out at me like Eve in our own fucked up garden of sins. We seemed miles away from our earlier confrontation in the club, even though I could still hear the dull rhythmic pounding of music and the scatter of voices in the hallway outside. They were oblivious to what was going on behind the private bathroom doors.

"I'll show you," I promised her.

I seized her roughly by the hips, pushing her upper body down low so that she was bent at the waist, with her ass up nice and high. I used my fingers to swipe some of the nectar from her pussy and then began to slowly push them inside her little knot, carefully warming her up. I was throbbing, oozing pre-cum, ravenous to get inside her. She wanted it, had begged for it. And fuck if she didn’t deserve to get that sweet little ass pounded something fierce after the day we’d had. I didn’t care anymore about the dress I’d bought her, stained and bunched up around her waist, her antics in the VIP, her tryst with Gia or any of her endless head games. I became single minded in the moment, wanting to drive home where she belonged.

When I slid into her, I rocked her forward in those overpriced heels and she gasped. Each thrust was deliberate and hard. I watched the soft flesh of her ass bouncing against my groin with each calculated stroke. Her face settled on its side, her cheek against the cool countertop. I heard each sigh, felt each shudder of her body and the way her thighs began to tremble. My hand slid all the way up her back until it was at the nape of her neck, holding her submissive and captive to each thrust. I knew her fingers had found their way to her pussy and she was frantically rubbing her clit.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” she sobbed. “Own that ass. God, I’m getting so close.”

Her orgasms were always a beautiful thing to me, even in debased moments like these.

My arms went around her, pulling her back against my chest so that my hands could squeeze each breast as she turned her face to the side. My tongue pushed impatiently past her lips as she continued to grind back against me, still connected with my cock deep inside her. Her body fit against mine in such a sweet way, like we were made for moments like these. As my climax surged, I inhaled her sweet breath. I unloaded every ounce of pent-up frustration, like a dam that had broken free.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Leo,” she whispered. “That was perfect. Just perfect.”

In some sick, co-dependent and self-destructive way, it really was.

And in some other equally important way, I wanted her to stop the mess we were becoming. I wanted our relationship to find its stride again, so that we weren’t always threatening to careen out of control into a brick wall. We were always chasing those highs that would top the moment before it. You know how it is. When you live fast, you become desensitized a little quicker each time. You think you can push it just a little harder and that it won’t break.

In reality, you can only tempt fate so many times before the odds are eventually against you. I was beginning to sense that our luck was running out. Maybe she sensed it too and no longer cared about getting things back on track. There was something gleeful about the way she was, like she was closing her eyes and hitting the pedal, leaving it all up to chance. We stood there in the darkness, still caught up in each other, pressed skin to skin as the heat between us began to subside.

We left the club that night and I walked many strides behind her, watching the wetness of my cum glazing the inner curves of her pretty thighs. She glanced behind her, as though feeling my stare and smiled. Her eyes flickered in the low lighting. They were filled with shadows that I was still caught up in exploring. Despite all her fuck ups, she was still everything I wanted back then.

She blew me a kiss and eagerly took my hand.

 ~ To be continued. ~

Copyright © 2014 Ashleigh Lake. All Rights Reserved. Under the DMCA, this story may not be copied or reproduced, without the express written permission of the author.