Full Frontal

'For now...'

That did it. My cock was swelling again, I was dizzy playing this secret game already, and my mind was racing with all the terrible things I could do to torture this woman, all for the absence of the one cock she should have been thinking about.

'But I at least let you touch mine,' I reminded her, my lips millimetres from her ear, my hands otherwise at a safe distance. A soft exclamation parted her lips and she turned to face me.

Before she could protest, I was lifting her face to mine and engaging her in one long, hot, lingering kiss, careful not to make a sound. At first Sam didn't register. Only her lips parted wider to allow me to take advantage of her. And then gradually she was pushing back into me, pressing her breasts into me as her tongue began to flicker at my lips.

Even after we came up breathless, Carrie was still in the bathroom and I heard the distinct sound of the tap running, and of soapy hands working together.

'I'll be downstairs,' I said, offering a devilish look, which Sam reciprocated, blushing furiously.

7

We were drinking hard again by 11pm, in part thanks to Black Sabbath, but also because some people may have been trying hard to drink to forget. As was always the case, there was a time of the night, approaching Carrie's halfway drunk mark, where she would get political on the likes of what kinds of inhumane torture certain people deserved.

Isn't she a fucking delight, ladies and gentlemen?

Of course, as I've previously stated, there are worse people and I am definitely one of them. So when Sam asked for Carrie's opinion on the option of cock and ball torture, it tickled me that Carrie did not make the connection, but instead dove right in to who she thought deserved to have their bits cut off.

Eyeing me once in a while, Sam managed a smirk, before suggesting cock and ball torture for male sluts. It was then Carrie who turned to look at me with a lopsided grin. 'The fuck are you looking at me for?' I asked.

'You're a slut,' she tried to break it to me gently - the operative word being BREAK.

'How am I a slut?' I asked her. Sam's face was priceless at that moment - a mixture of mirth and revelation.

'You might not think you do, but you flirt with everybody,' she slurred.

I wasn't even going to try to sound convincing, despite coming back with an indignant 'I DO NOT!'

'You do,' she insisted. 'You flirt with everybody and I see it all the time, with the exception of Sam, who's tried to flirt with you. Only I don't let her, do I, Sam?'

'No, which is why I'm letting you get blackout drunk with our booze,' Sam came back.

'Oh my god, you people,' Carrie shouted. 'Why don't you just fuck already and get it over with?'

'Ooohh,' Sam cooed fruitily. Inadvertently, I snorted, but stifled my laughter as Carrie poured herself another drink. Soon enough, Carrie was again headed for the bathroom, leaving Sam and I looking at each other in the awkward silence.

8

Let me just stop you here briefly, my long-suffering readers, and just say that I cannot agree more with what you're thinking. Yes I am a terribly bad man. No matter how many words you could string together that define all that is bad, they would never be enough.

Not only am I a dirty cheating slut, I'm a head-fuck too. I wasn't always like this. Not so long ago I was the complete opposite, but I don't do excuses, so I'm not even going to say why I am the way I am. I am simply a shameless arsehole.

And whereas I could aim to be with a woman that I can desire and respect to the extent that I would never again act this way, the oldest feeling in the world for me has been the unending downward spiral, and part of that has been a long line of crazy bitches who I allegedly drive to drink and fight.

God, see me at my most evil, screwing with your blessed creations - the divinely insane ballbuster - and either do me the favour of pulling me out of this nightmare, or do all of creation the favour of striking me dead.

But you don't even do that, do you? No, you go right ahead and make me whip my cock out all over again, like I keep promising myself I won't!

9

There I stood, right before her under the kitchen spotlights. Again, one hand resting on my belt buckle, I stared her down like a cowboy on the main street at high noon. 'Don't give me that look!'

'We're going to end up driving her insane,' Sam half-protested.

'She already is insane,' I duly noted.

'That's true,' she agreed, 'but, we might drive her insane-err...'

'She'll just get drunk-err,' I responded dryly. That's all she ever did. 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours,' I said one last time.

'Okay,' was not the reply I was expecting, but somehow I got it. With that I unsnapped my belt, unbuttoned my jeans, and snaked my hand around my semi-erect cock, then slowly pulled it out, to Sam's gasps; which turned immediately to admiration as I let it hang there in the open.

'Do you want to touch it?' I asked.

Her mouth agape, an eyebrow raised momentarily, before she zipped shut and shook her head. All of a sudden she looked mesmerised. Then she blinked hard, shook her head a second time, and told me to button up, or else there was no knowing how far she'd go. So I did, and then I reminded her...

'Your turn!'

Sam looked out through the kitchen door into the living room. Carrie was most definitely not there. She was still in the bathroom. 'What do you want to see?'

Those were all the words I needed. I quietly closed in the distance, only a matter of three strides, and carefully unbuttoned her shirt until I could tuck one side around the underside of her bra - all she'd been wearing underneath all along.

Sam eyed me nervously, trembling before me, only looking down upon herself to see what my hands were up to. And when I slid a hand inside the left cup of her bra, then used the other to help expose her heavy breast to me, she seemed to gasp aloud my own exact reaction.

Fair skinned as she was, the flesh of her breast was so youthful and smooth, without a single fault. Centring the large but almost perfectly round aerola was the tightest pink nipple. I caught it between the knuckles of my fingers and playfully tugged, causing Sam to jump. Where she was going was beyond either of us. One moment she was pulling away, and the next she was pushing into me.

Again we kissed, breathily - very breathily - and then I asked her; 'do you know what I really want to do to you right now?'

The moment her eyes pleaded with me, I crouched down and took her naked breast into my mouth and began to suckle, swirling my hot, rough tongue around her in circles. Biting her lip, she stifled a moan and slurred that one word deliciously...

'Fffffff-fuck...'

I was so hard for her then that I asked when. She didn't answer me. Good girl. I grinned mischievously at that point and helped her back into her bra, leaving her to button up her shirt. And then Carrie was thumping her way down the stairs again, asking if I was ready to leave.

'It's only half one,' Sam complained, looking between me and my ever absent girlfriend.

'Yeah well we have a lot of sex to get through tonight, isn't that right, boyfriend?' Carrie replied, before then looking to me.

10

The taxi ride home was deathly silent. What happened in the bedroom at the end of that night wasn't!

Carrie and I had a lot in common, other than the both of us being self-proclaimed trash, and then we had a lot of differences. One of the things we had in common was a penchant for, amongst other kinds of sex, the roughest and filthiest.

She didn't like me to go down on her, but never needed me to anyway. That suited me down to the ground if I was just going through the motions and wanted to make her come ten times before blasting my load into her.

Almost as soon as we got home and up the stairs, she practically tried to rape me, laying claim to her property. We tore off each other's clothes and stood in the chilling still of the dark, kissing and biting like animals, feeling our heated sexes naturally divining toward each other.

'You'd better fucking come in me tonight,' she said clearly enough for there to have been room for an ultimatum, but I didn't ask and none came. 'No excuses, just saying,' was how she ended her own silence.

By then my turgid tool was aiming upward and pressing into the V between her hips, and she gasped as she pressed forward to kiss me with her alcohol-heavy breath. Pushing me down onto the comfy chair situated by the bedroom window, she straddled me as I hissed where my hot skin met cold leather.

'Don't be such a fucking pussy,' she laughed.

'There's only one fucking pussy about to happen here,' I observed.

Carrie nodded and hummed almost as if to herself. 'And what are you going to do about it?' she asked, wrapping her small fingers around my thick shaft, ready to position herself.

'You're the one on top,' I said.

'Good boy,' she commended, the wet heat of her silky furnace kissing the tip. And then she slid down, moaning. 'I'm in fucking charge!'

She rode me like that for what seemed an eternity, hard and fast, deliberately pummelling my swollen testicles as her ass came down hard, time and time again. All I could do was sit there and moan and groan as I grabbed two handfuls of her bouncing tits and fill my mouth with them.

It wasn't long before I took over, lifting her up with me as I stood and flinging her halfway across the room and onto the bed, where she landed and bounced with a squeal. I turned her over, forced her up onto her knees and belted her behind raw with a stiff hand; until that hand burned with the pain it gave her.

She shivered and she hissed, wanting more, always wanting more. Just the once, I bent down and bit hard into her flesh and tugged like a vicious dog, growling all the while as she cried. Then I soothed her, sliding every inch I had into her gushing pussy.

Because she had waited so long to reconnect with me, smooth and hot slid into a slippery coolness, and I waited there a moment to relish in the feeling of her quivering and pulsating around me.

'Go slow a moment,' she begged, and already she was coming for what was now the fourth time. Against her resistance, as every muscle within tried to push me out, I drove in deep until our bodies touched, and then I took hold of her hips and began to plunge in and out of her, listening to her suck greedily at my length.

'You feel so fucking big in me,' she growled. In the dark I clenched my teeth. Partly due to the intense sex that we shared, but also because other than in the bedroom, I could no longer stand the drunk bitch.

11

'You left me soaking wet all last night you bastard!'

Sunday evening I got the message. It wasn't from Carrie, who I'd sent home earlier that day, after an extended lie-in and pub lunch. No doubt she had headed into town to carry the weekend off to her own foregone conclusion.

No, this was Sam, who knew purposely to wait to contact me. Despite being worn down after the weekend's events, of course I thought I should make time for her.

'Well your boyfriend has a cock too, just sayin',' I replied and waited. It was approaching 10pm and yet she was fast on my heels, yet I was ready for bed.

'Yeah great, and I'm just about the only woman not getting it.' That made me feel bad for her, which I knew I shouldn't have. She was attractive. I'd made it clear enough that I'd fuck her. In fact I had to wonder why Dylan didn't. Was he really planning on marrying her? I doubted it. But that made me feel even more sympathy, which I hated. And my sympathy was worth jack shit to anybody.

'Look on the bright side,' I typed, 'at least you got some great wank material for while Dylan's away...'

'Yes I do, thank you,' she said back, and then after that came a photo, which nearly had me choking on my hash pipe. Right then my heart leapt into my throat and I was wishing that I'd somehow managed to pull off her leggings and get a taste that previous night.

The most gorgeous pussy I'd ever seen (she wore a golden ring through the hood of her clit, and had a cute little strip of trimmed dark blonde pubic hair just above), its glistening pink depths being invaded by a vibrating jelly dildo - the clitoral stimulator nudging her engorged little love button.

'And so do I,' I sent back minutes later, with a photo of my own. I hadn't been this hard in a long time. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I wanted so very badly to fuck her.

'Is that you now?' she asked. I told her straight. Yes it was and I was now in bed treating myself to a long couple of strokes.

'My left tit is still tingling, you cheeky bastard,' she added.

'Just imagine then if I'd have had the chance to tongue fuck that pussy,' I typed like Jessica fucking Tandy. 'Because I was considering it before she suddenly decided she wanted to go home!'

'That would feel fucking amazing right now...'

'So would this hard cock replacing that battery operated toy of yours,' I suggested. Just thinking about it that way, I was instantly lost in my thoughts. And so begun a night of great wank material for the both of us when she responded with the hint that she might just have to invite me to!

12

Mondays were dead in almost every respect. Work was slow and Carrie, from Sunday night until Wednesday night, was usually nowhere to be seen. I'd have been stupid for many obvious reasons to wonder if she was playing the field in that time.

For one, I was not one to judge. Secondly, I liked my time alone and so I didn't seek her when I knew I could make the most of that me-time. It seemed only fair since she left me broke at the end of every weekend.

I dragged myself out of bed at five that day and dared to look myself in the mirror. My face really was the face of a liar. Inside I felt like microwaved dinosaur shit. Still on the outside remained the mask of that same old handsome devilish bastard, just with a thicker layer of stubble.

I was only thankful that day that I existed by such chaotic hours. I was up too early, on so little sleep, to really feel the impact. I would crash and burn somewhere in the evening that day and resume what few sensibilities of mine remained.

I was in work before the sun came up, my nerves jittery, and my muscles aching with the additional times I fucked Carrie that Sunday, but otherwise Monday felt more like the best escape I had. Very happily I got to work and kept my head down until the afternoon came. And then I was out again in the cold but blinding sun.

And the first thing I did was check my phone for messages...

'Fancy making some real wank material now?' she had asked at 9:37.

'Hi, I just got out of work, also yes' I replied in a hurry, seeing that Sam was online. Immediately my heart started jack-hammering and deep down I was already seeking the thrill. I was thinking of nothing else but getting into her, so hopelessly that I stood there in the biting chill of the day, awaiting the very moment of her response.

What the fuck was I doing? Was this really me? Was it?

'My place or yours?' she asked.

To be continued...