My muscles constricted tightly around Santino’s fingers and my mouth widened for a lustful cry which was stifled by Santino’s cock as he plunged into me even deeper only to let out a guttural moan. Something hit the back of my throat and my tongue as Santino slid back and forth in jerky movements. I swallowed quickly when it became too much.
Santino slowed then stilled and pulled his cock out of me. I gave him a tight smile, my mouth full with the last spurt of his cum. A slight soreness pounded between my legs when Santino removed his fingers. I stood and spit his cum in his Pernod glass on the living room table before I sauntered into the bathroom and threw the door shut behind me.
Tears stung in my eyes, which was absolutely stupid, because I’d finally gotten what I wanted. I stared at myself in the mirror. My lips were red and puffy, some of my mascara smeared, and my hair was a complete mess. A wild thudding spread between my legs. I was still sensitive and my nipples were still erect, my body still in orgasm mode.
I leaned against the door, my body yearning for something Santino probably would never give me, for something I should want from Clifford. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms, to hold me while I slept. I wanted things that could only be temporarily mine. Maybe it was better if I never experienced them in the first place. What Santino and I had was safe, and whatever we’d still have in the future would be pleasurable. Emotions would only get in the way, and would complicate things.
I straightened with a resolute sigh. I grabbed a washcloth to clean myself and froze when it came away light pink.
I cringed then closed my eyes, pressing my lips together to stop a furious cry from slipping out. I could only hope Santino wouldn’t notice. I didn’t want to have him ridicule me for being a fumbling virgin.
I’d done my best to convince him otherwise. If it had been up to Maurice, I wouldn’t even be one anymore. We’d kissed a lot that night, had touched each other through our clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to do more. He’d wanted me but I hadn’t been able to put Santino out of my mind. No matter how often I tried to convince myself otherwise, Santino was the man I wanted right now.
I breathed heavily, my head hanging forward, my balls still pulsating from my orgasm. This had been… fuck. A wild ride. Fucking Anna’s mouth, that was something I’d never forget. It wasn’t what I wanted, not nearly enough, but it was all I could have. Anna was taken, and I had to deal with it.
I opened my eyes. Anna was still in the bathroom. She was probably pissed for whatever reason. I stared at the door. I felt the irresistible urge to go to her. I wanted her close. With other women, I’d wanted to get away from them as fast as possible once the sex was over.
But I still longed for Anna, for more than what we’d just had, and not just on a physical level. I was a moron. Anna saw me as her plaything, as a nice way to entertain herself until she had to enter her marriage with Cliffy. I was a comfortable choice. I was always available and as an added bonus she could blackmail me. And I sure as hell was a better lay than Maurice, that was for sure.
I shook my head and dragged my eyes away from the door. I wouldn’t run after Anna no matter how much I wanted her close. I wouldn’t turn myself into more of a fool than I had already done. I had to draw a line somewhere.
I reached for a tissue to wipe my fingers and cock clean and paused when the white came away pink. I stared at my fingers and immediately my gaze darted to the bathroom door.
“Fuck,” I groaned. Anna had played me well, had made me believe in her little charade.
Damn it. I’d fingerfucked her so hard I’d taken her virginity.
I ran a hand through my hair. I should say something. I stepped closer to the bathroom. “Anna?” I called. Damn it. I hadn’t just fingerfucked her. I’d practically fucked her mouth too.
I was going to hell. Not that that was news but today I’d cemented a cozy place in hell for good.
Anna didn’t react.
“Anna, we need to talk!” I jerked up my pants and closed them, but didn’t bother pushing my shirt back in. “Anna, come on.”
The door opened and Anna stepped out in her nightgown. She wasn’t wearing makeup and if I wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were slightly red. My heart plummeted. I stared at her, searching for something to say. Anna had played me so often, but I knew the tears she’d cried in the bathroom weren’t fake.