Heart In A Cage

15

Andreas

Tonight's second difficult decision is a finish to my horrible night. Sickening words that had fallen from Jasper's lips had already done it for me, and the sheer thought of him, considering that he was the one who'd always panic Bella on her visits through the mall, has only made it worse.

This is the sensical reasoning on why my decision is so difficult. My friend is aching in my pants, the thin fabric secured around it, and I'd pull it out if Jasper wasn't such a thriving factor keeping my rage awake. Masturbate with him soaring through my subconscious or be reasonable and walk inside to greet my girlfriend with the items she apparently needs.

I bang the top of the steering wheel.

"Shit, why is this so hard? You know what—" I tug down my shorts and immediately grasp my throbbing cock. Liberating Jasper from my thoughts is as easy as can be. All I need to do is reminisce over the time Bella had sucked me off in the bathroom and ignore her claim to go fuck someone else. The only thing stopping me from lashing out at the thought is the reminder that she'd been staring up at me earlier, begging me to fuck her. If she had fucked someone, I suppose she wouldn't be so desperate. But maybe it isn't that simple. Maybe she hadn't been satiated and, to battle her hunger, I was a good chance she could easily take.

Who gives a fuck?

She's an outlet for my hungry cock, I'm an outlet for her hungry pussy. A beautiful pussy. If only I could get a taste of it.

Very simply, I construct a little daydream regarding the craved fantasy and begin stroking.

After a very long day of watching her behind the front desk, sweet talking customers and moving around to do her serving, I'll take her home and place her down on the bed. For a few minutes, I'll admire her sprawled body, let the view of her soak in while she's looking up at me with her gleaming green eyes, up on her elbows, watching me the same way I'll be watching her.

Her blouse would've already been partially undone, and her skirt would do nothing to conceal most of her thighs―two results of her naughty decision to make herself look lovelier than she already is. And I'd spank her for it.

I'd shrivel her shortened skirt to bits, pop open the buttons of her blouse all at once, gnarl away at her thin panties then―to punish her for acting like a disobedient whore at the club, to show her that seeking other guys is consequential―I'll flip her around and bring my palm down to her ass so many times that it'll be a pretty painting of colors the next day.

By the end of it, she'll be a weeping mess of stinging skin and a wet pussy, so I'll have to award her for being so good for me.

I throw my head up and pant with the increased tempo of my hand working on my cock, and I only now realize that her panties are moving with it, sliding up and down as I fuck myself. Sweat spreads over my forehead as the illusory reality recommences from where it left.

Her amazing prize will be my own prize too. Because I'll finally have my fingers shove into her so nicely that on my command, I can wrench another orgasm from her. But I won't give it to her so early. I want to see her suffer through a throbbing clit and smile at the tears trickling down her face.

So after a disciplinal spanking, I'll spin her on her back and watch as she begs to be fucked. She'll try to get up, reach for my cock, arch herself so her gorgeous tits can dissuade me from depriving her. I'll simply watch her plead and implore―she'll think she deserves it, and to counter that, I'll remind her how she ran off to the club so many times and was taking advantage of being a pretty girl to seduce an employee at my store.