Small Town Big Man

“Mm, Anders,” I groan into his ear as he clutches my wrists even tighter in his hand.

His body is hot and sweaty as he drives his dick deep into my heat, filling me up. My pussy rubs his base as he fucks me over and over.

Another orgasm bubbles deep in my belly, spilling out as I loudly groan. Every muscle in my body tenses up as I'm left with numb legs and a pounding heart.

Anders nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, the hair bristling my skin as he releases a moan that sounds more animal than human. His body stiffens as his cock throbs, filling me with pulse after pulse of cum.

His grip on my wrists loosens as he comes, and my fingertips run up his back and I feel him shiver slightly as he groans and rolls off of me. “Holy shit, Laney,” he says, his breath ragged and uneven as his hand falls onto his chest. “I meant to pull out, I really did. I'm so—”

“No, don't apologize. I wanted this, I told you I didn't mind, and I meant that.” Rolling onto my side, he scoops me in his arm and pulls me in. “Besides, that was fucking hot,” I say.

“Right,” he agrees with a laugh. “I'm going to feel hungover tomorrow.”

“You and I both.” Reaching up, I twine our fingers together.

We lay naked, sweaty, and out of breath. But this isn't just a man beside me, there's a beast. Every inch of his body is triple the size of mine. And as he holds me firmly in his arms, a feeling of safety and protection and care blankets me from head to toe.

I never got that from my ex, not once did I ever feel this level of safety. I never felt any authentic feeling from him and the only feelings he ever gave me were insecurity, frustration and pain.

But here like this with Anders, I can feel that pain dissolving. I can feel the hurt and the gashes in my heart healing.

Maybe everything I've been going through was for a reason?

Maybe life has been trying to prepare me for something else?

Someone stronger. Someone bolder. Someone who would make my heart come alive, not shrivel up and die.

And as my mind fills with a world of questions, my eyes become heavy and my eyes start to close.

Ding Ding.

The noise jostles me awake. Blinking, I rub my eyes and hear the beeping again. Sitting up, Anders is still naked beside me, partially covered in the sheet from my bed.

We must have just fallen asleep.

The sun is up, shining brightly through the skylights. I'm still in a daze, and I definitely feel like I have a hangover now. Massaging my temples, I yawn wide, trying to cast away the fog in my head.

My phone pings again, so I grab it off the nightstand and check my messages. Reading through them, I sit in shock.

No. No, no, no. He wouldn't do that.

Would he?

Quickly, I call my old neighbor. I'm speaking before she even has time to answer.

“Beth, please tell me he isn't?” Running my hand through my hair, my head begins to pound. “He can't do this! Why would he do this?” My voice is loud, causing Anders to stir next to me.

“I'm sorry, Laney, but he is. He's putting out box after box with your name on it.”

“Stop him! Can't you—” I start to ask, but swiftly realize it's not her problem. “Sorry, Beth, I shouldn't be putting this on you.”

“I'll grab what I can, and I'll put it in my garage.”

“Thank you, Beth, really, thank you so much. I'm on my way.”

Jumping out of bed, I grab my clothes from the floor and wriggle into them quickly, tripping over my own feet and bumping into things. I run out into the living room and start tossing throw blankets and pillows and stacks of paper aside looking for my car keys and purse. Anders appears in the doorway, yawning, and looking at me with surprise and concern.

“What's going on?” he asks.

“Well, it looks like my asshole ex has decided to trash all my stuff. My neighbor Beth has been texting me. She wanted to let me know he’s putting all my things on the street. She’s going to try to salvage what she can, but I’ve got to get home and make sure the trash collectors don’t take anything. It’s all my work. Irreplaceable art I’ve done over the years. Fuck the clothes, I can buy more, but my work!” The more I speak the more desperate I feel. Where the fuck are my car keys? “I need to go, I'm sorry. I don’t have a minute to waste.”

I finally find my keys on the kitchen counter and make my way to the door, ready to run to my car. Anders comes toward me with his hands out, placing them firmly on my shoulders.