Grind (Cal and Macy's Story 2)

My cock leaps at the thought even as uneasiness settles within me. Could I do that? For her?

I'm thinking it would be a major turn on for her, and the thought of her moaning in ecstasy while I pound away inside of her with hungry anonymous eyes watching us is thrilling.

I groan and grab my cock, swiping it through her pussy lips twice before thrusting in deep. A shiver of naked lust rushes up my spine, and I know in that moment as I start fucking Macy from behind that there probably isn't anything I wouldn't do to give her pleasure.

Chapter 10

From the Diary of Macy Carrington:

Dear Diary,

I haven't seen Cal in three days. After hours of unmitigated fucking in Utah, we returned to New York and went our separate ways.

Am I worried?

No.

Because it was the best sex ever, and we are destined to come back together again.

Being with him is the biggest rush. The orgasms he gives to me are singularly unique, each one surpassing the previous. So different from the ones I give myself. They're deeper, longer, and more invasive. They seize my body and my mind. They consume me like white noise and when the buzz of ecstasy wanes, I only crave him more desperately.

I want it again.

I want it over and over.

I want it longer and harder.

Dirtier. I want to do filthy things with him.

He's unleashed something inside of me that I don't think is meant to be contained.

Cal has asked me out each night since we've returned. The first night, he invited me to dinner at his place. I declined because dinner at his place would lead to amazing fucking, which would lead to expectations for me to stay the night.

I don't do overnights.

This he should know because when we finally fucked ourselves dry in Utah, I snuck off to my own hotel room and slept alone. He never said a word about it the next day.

The next two nights, he just invited me to dinner, it being implied it would be at a restaurant somewhere. I also declined because I don't want him to try to wine and dine me. I'm a sure bet. I'll willingly get on my back and spread my legs for him. He doesn't have to try to get me there, because I'll crawl there myself and even beg him to obliterate my misery. Anything past submerging ourselves into a haze of sex is wasted on me, but more importantly, threatens to hurt him in the long run. Cal is a man that will give his heart in any way he can, and I am not the person he wants to waste that on.

This means I know that I'll have to give him up one day. It's a thought that already saddens me and creates a black hole of emptiness within. But I have to minimize the damage I'll do to him, and the best way is to make sure that I give him nothing but my body. I can never let him know that I'm a person that has the potential to be saved, because I know he's the type that would ride in on his white horse and slay all my demons.

I don't deserve that from him, and I can only hope that he's content for a while with just fucking me.

So, dear diary, I sent a message to him. A simple invitation, really.

Meet me at The Heritage Hotel at 8 PM. Toys are optional.

I waited for almost an hour for his reply. It was just one word, but it made me smile.

Okay.

And I feel brighter inside just anticipating seeing this man again soon.

Love,

Macy

Chapter 11

As soon as I walk into the lobby of The Heritage hotel, my eyes eagerly scan the area for Macy. The rest of my afternoon was completely unproductive, because I couldn't stop thinking about her. I kept remembering the blistering orgasms we gave each other in Utah. I couldn't let go of how responsive she is to me. Hell, I even obsessed about her request to have public sex, battling a recurring boner.

I continually thought of other things too.

Things that add to the aura of mystery and sadness that seems to surround this woman. For example, I can't get out of my head that small flicker of pain she revealed to me in my office that day when I told her I didn't want to represent her at first. That told me she's sensitive to rejection, something I will ensure not to hand her unwittingly.

I also haven't been able to let go of what I learned from Mac, particularly about Macy's parents. While I have absolutely no details, she painted enough of a picture for me to know that there is no love within that family. That is such an aberration to me because I come from a huge, close-knit family that would literally die for each other. I could no more imagine my parents not loving me than I could imagine I'm the next mega rock star waiting to be discovered.

I suck at singing by the way.

As my eyes search for that beautiful strawberry hair, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and surprisingly see it's a text from Macy. I tap on the icon and pull up her message.

I'm in room 803.

Damn, the girl doesn't want to waste any time when it comes to having sex. I wonder if that's just with me or with all of her fucks?

Correction... former fucks.

I hope.

Want to come down for a drink first in the hotel bar? I text back but immediately start searching for the elevators.

Macy has turned me down three times this week for invitations to dinner, and I finally got the hint. She's not interested in anything other than sex, which fine... it's a chore, but I suppose I can abide by it.

By the time I have the elevators in my sights, she responds back to me. I'm not dressed for it.

That makes me smile.

Then she sends me another text.

This time... a picture.

>

And then I swallow my tongue because she's sent me a photo of herself in front of a full-length mirror in the hotel room, and she is most definitely not dressed to come down for drinks.

A black lace bustier that plumps up her gorgeous tits. Black, lace, crotchless panties that leave nothing to the imagination, and I'm finding that I like her non-subtle ways. Black, silk stockings attached to silky, black garters, and black stiletto heels that make her seem impossibly tall and willowy.

Fuck the drink.

I have better things to do as well.

With Macy's hair wrapped around my hand and tucked tightly into my fist, I give it a sharp tug and growl into her ear, "Is this how you liked to be fucked?"

And Jesus... I've hit the mother lode of freaky fucking with Macy. I've never been down and dirtier with another woman than I am right at this moment.

With the front of Macy's body pressed up against the floor-to-ceiling window of our hotel room.

She still has her black bustier on, but the cups are pulled down and her tits are mashed into the glass.

Her hips are tilted back just a tiny bit, so I'm not sure if anyone in the office building across the way can appreciate the shiny pussy lips that are covered with my saliva because the first thing I did when I walked into the room was strip my clothes, drop to my knees, and eat her out.

Then, with my mouth still against her, licking away the first of what I'm betting is many orgasms to come, the kinky girl said, "I want you to fuck me up against the window."

She pulled away, reached into a bag beside the bed, and threw something at me. I saw black straps flopping and a flash of bright pink. "Wear that," she said with an almost evil smile as I caught it in my hands.

Okay, I like my toys, but I was stunned when I looked down at the pile of black, elastic bands and pink, jellied plastic.

"What is it?" I asked, and even though I had a little trepidation, my dick was fucking hard as a rock. I wasn't exactly one hundred percent sure what I had in my hands, but my cock liked it.

"It's a strap-on," she said as she prowled closer to me, and yeah... I actually knew that's what it was. I was still just... stunned.

Then she tossed me something else as she walked toward me, and I caught it.

A bottle of lube.