Clash (Cal and Macy's Story 1)

I'm ready to settle down, start a family. I want a woman that can be my freak in the bedroom, but that is only a freak in the bedroom with me.

And I know, for a fact, that Macy Carrington doesn't do monogamy.

Sure... I could take her up on a repeat fuck. She would be all in, and she would consider it great fun, I bet. As would I... while I was fucking her.

But I know that it will never be anything more than that, and if this makes me sound like a girl, so be it, but I just don't have the heart to get involved with someone that, well... doesn't have a heart.

When I invited Camille over for dinner tonight, it wasn't just with the idea in mind that I would feed her and we would hang out, have some boring, stilted conversation and a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

No, when I invited her over here, it was with the idea in mind that I was going to fuck her tonight. Camille has been trying to get in my pants for the last few weeks and I've put her off, mainly because I wasn't sure this was going anywhere. What I've realized, however, is that I'm comfortable in my little rut right now, because as I said, it keeps me a bit safe.

And who knows... maybe things will start to click with Camille. Maybe I'm still harboring some bitter feelings against her and need to work through those. Maybe she's having a tough time, and it's causing her to be a bit reserved with me. I could rationalize out a million things but when it boils right down to it, Camille and I have history that was created with hard work and patience. She's also sweet, brilliant, and gorgeous. I owe it to us to really give this a shot.

Which means... I'm giving in, and I'm going to fuck her tonight. Besides... I'm tired of jacking off to Macy-porn in my head. I really need a good fuck, and maybe then, I can actually forget about my encounter in the kitchen pantry.

Despite a certain woman's claim that I'm a saint, I actually can be quite filthy when it comes to my fucking. I like to play--sometimes rough, sometimes with toys. This is something I had in common with Camille. As I step back from the bed to observe my handiwork, I think that maybe this is really what we need to reconnect.

She's naked in the middle of my bed, on her knees with her hands tied behind her back, her cheek resting on the mattress. Normally, I'd take a bit more time with the rope, but I don't have the patience for it tonight. I'm afraid if I don't move forward quickly, I might end up changing my mind.

I put one knee up on the mattress, bracing myself with my other foot firmly on the floor, and bring my hand up to her pussy. She moans when I cup her, and then rocks back into me when I push a finger inside. She's wet, but I knew she would be. She always gets drenched when I tie her up.

My own cock needs some help so with my free hand, I stroke it idly, feeling it slowly start to rise to the occasion. I do this for a while... fingering her, pumping myself... engaging in some dispassionate foreplay.

Pulling my hand away from her, I step back from the bed.

"Don't stop," Camille whines.

Yes, it sounds whiny, so I ignore it.

I walk around the bed to my nightstand, pulling a condom out of my drawer. Camille's face is turned toward me, her eyes watching my every move. "A condom?" she asks, perplexed.

We didn't use condoms when we were together, but that came after we both realized our feelings were getting deep and after getting clean bills of health from our mutual doctors. But I have no clue who she's been fucking the last six months, and let's face it, I had unprotected sex over two weeks ago.

I know that's a fact that should worry me, but truth of the matter is, it doesn't. I'm wearing a condom tonight for my protection, of course, but also out of respect for Camille. While I'm pretty confident Macy is clean, I know there's a slight chance I could be wrong.

But I don't think so, and that's because even though Macy and I are casual acquaintances, I actually happen to know something about her sex life.

She is by no means a saint, and she is quite promiscuous.

I know this from Mac.

I know this from Mac because Mac is my best friend and she shares certain things with me. Now, she didn't share gossip about Macy, and she didn't tell me details about Macy's sex life. On the contrary, she shared an interesting story with me about how she and Matt actually met through a "dating" service that paired people up for one-night stands. In fact, the company is called One Night Only, and all members are stringently vetted and routinely checked medically to be certified disease free.

It's a brilliant concept actually, and apparently, Matt used it for many years after he booted his ex-wife out. Mac only used it once, and that was when she met Matt. How I know about Macy's sexual history is because Mac told me that Macy is the one that introduced her to it. In fact, she said Macy never dated, didn't do relationships, and only went out with men from this service.

So if that holds true, then I probably have no worry about catching something itchy from my pantry encounter. Again, however, I could be wrong and only time would tell, but until then, I need to play it safe for Camille's sake.

Funny... really.

At no time from the moment I pressed Macy's hand to my cock did I once consider using a condom. I was so overwhelmed with lust, and a driving need to get inside her body, that the need for protection was simply obliterated from my mind. Which only goes to prove how dangerous Macy really is to me.

She removes rationality and common sense.

I open the condom packet and roll it on, thankful my dick is at least at half mast. I look at Camille and gently say, "We've been apart a long time, and I'm sure neither of us was celibate."

And I leave it at that.

She stares at me a moment before giving me an accepting smile.

I start stroking my dick again. Normally, just the sight of Camille bound and on her knees would have me hard as a rock, but tonight, my cock is apparently playing hard to get. Camille's eyes cut over to it. "Need a little help getting ready?"

I shake my head and turn away from her, walking to the back of the bed again. It's hard enough to do the job, and that's all that matters.

Crawling up behind her, I stroke her smooth back and push my fingers inside of her, ensuring she's still wet and ready. I wish I were as responsive as she is tonight. I really, really want this to be good, not only for Camille, but for me as well.

I need it to be good for me.

I need it because I need to banish Macy from my thoughts.

Pulling my hand from between Camille's legs, I edge up to her backside and guide my cock to her entrance. It's warm and wet, and I know it will feel good.

I slide in slowly, watching as it disappears into her, and I'm rewarded with a long moan. I wait for my cock to recognize sweet pussy and go fully hard on me, but it just lays there like a slug.

A big, engorged slug, but a slug just the same.

I pull out and thrust back in a few times, hoping to encourage it further.

Fuck... what the fuck is wrong with me?

I have a beautiful woman tied and submissive on my bed, and my dick is lodged deep. It should be completely in its element and happy to produce.

Didn't have this problem with Macy.

For fuck's sake... the woman got me hard immediately after I came inside of her. That's never happened to me before, but the minute she challenged me to keep fucking her, my cock was more than ready to have another go round.

A shudder of ecstasy runs up my spine as I think about the way Macy sucked me off with her finger up my ass, and my dick swells supremely hard, pushing hard against Camille's tender flesh. She feels it, and actually grunts from the sensation.

Yeah... that's the ticket.

I start pumping my hips faster, fucking Camille deep, taking advantage of my complete hard-on. I think about Macy the entire time and I'm so consumed with my thoughts about her, there's no room for me to even feel guilty about having two women in the bed with me right at this moment.

Macy's hot mouth on me, sucking hard. Her fingers playing with my balls, wet and slick, slipping into my ass. Stroking whatever the fuck that was inside of me that had me coming so fucking hard that I--

"Fuuuuuck," I shout out as I slam into Camille so forcefully her body flattens out on the mattress, and I start coming.

Thinking the entire time about the way I came deep inside of Macy's pussy... then shot a load down her throat while she fingered herself.

My hips continue to thrust and tunnel into Camille while I envision another woman and what she does to me.

I'm a fucking schmuck and I know it, but I can't help how fucking good it feels right at this moment.

Chapter 8

From the Diary of Macy Carrington:

Dear Diary,

Today was not a good day.

I knew it was going to be a bad day because I had plans to meet my mother for lunch. We both know that nothing good ever comes out of these types of things.

Sitting at a table and nibbling on Cobb salads while my mother tells me about her fancy parties and famous people that she runs with. And I have to sit there and smile, be the perfect lady, and pretend that all the shit spewing from her mouth interests me. I sit there knowing she will never ask me how I'm doing. She won't give me a hug or tell me she loves me. Instead, she'll wait for me to make a mistake... maybe I won't fold my napkin correctly, or perhaps I'll order something that could cause my hips to get fat.