An adult stories – Navy SEAL and Homeless Woman Ch. 09 by SusanJillParker,SusanJillParker Navy SEAL and Homeless Woman, Ch. 9
Navy SEAL comes to the rescue of a homeless woman.
Author’s Note:
This is a Romance story. Love at first sight, Susan, and Christopher fall in love.
All characters portrayed in this story are over 21-years-old. There are no minors under the age of 18-years-old in this story. There are no sexual references to anyone under the age of 21-years-old.
# # #
Continued from Chapter 8: Navy SEAL and the Homeless Woman.
When they broke from kissing, she looked at him as if really seeing him for the first time. Without their clothes to hide their imperfections, as long as they were open and honest with one another, literally and figuratively, they were naked, even when fully dressed. Being that they’ve both already been through the worse of things, a new way of life, they hoped for a fresh start with one another.
“You know, just a mere few hours ago, I never thought I’d be in bed with anyone never mind a being in a pillow soft bed,” she said with a laugh. “With you a big, bad assed SEAL who has mad fighting skills, you’re just like Matt Damon in Bourne Legacy. Only, you’re the real deal. You’re Sylvester Stallone, Clint Eastwood, and Bruce Lee all wrapped up into one Navy SEAL, Christopher Ryan.”
He laughed with her compliments.
“And I never thought I’d be rescuing a homeless woman who suddenly turned into a tall, leggy, busty, beautiful blonde with big, blue eyes. As if you’re my very own Cinderella or Snow White, if I believed in fairytales, this would be it for me. The Navy SEAL and the homeless woman, that would make a good title for a story,” he said.
She laughed with the comparison.
“Trust me, I’m no Cinderella or Snow White,” she said with a laugh. “I thought you SEALs were more into action than talking,” she said reaching down to grab a whole handful of his erect cock.
She laughed.
“What do you mean?”
She laughed, again.
“You never stop talking. Shut up and kiss me, SEAL.”
Christopher took her in his arms, leaned forward, and kissed her. She returned his sexual passion with her sexual passion. Feeling her big tits and reaching around her to squeeze her round, firm, and shapely ass, she slowly stroked him to a bigger and harder erection.
“You’re so beautiful Susan,” he said gazing into her big, blue eyes. “Always attracted to petite, short, small breasted, and dark haired women before, I never thought I’d fall for a tall, beautiful blonde with big tits,” he said laughing while staring down at her.
She laughed again.
“And why are you still talking,” she said with another laugh? “Fuck me, Christopher. Stick that big, hard cock inside my warm, wet pussy. Fuck me fast enough and hard enough to make me cum. I want to cum. I need to cum. I want you to give me a sexual orgasm with your cock. After you rescued me, pretend that I’m your spoils of war. Take me, Christopher. Make me your woman,” she said.
Christopher climbed on top of her and a bit unsteady on the springy pillows, he mounted her while Susan, with her hand between her legs, directed his cock inside of her.
# # #
“Later today, I’m going to buy a bigger bed,” he said with a laugh.
She laughed, too.
“No more talking,” she said kissing him as he slowly penetrated her before slowing and gently humping her while making love to her.
Susan returned his sexual lust with her sexual passion. They started a slow rhythmic movement; they were making love. Then, humping her faster and humping her harder, they were fucking. Returning his fast and hard humps with her fast and hard humps, he fucked Susan and she fucked him.
“Hmm, that feels good Christopher,” said Susan breathing hard.
He continued humping her. He continued fucking her. Determined to make her cum, he humped her faster. He humped her harder.
“You’re so tight Susan,” he said with him deeper inside of her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and her long legs around his back.
“It’s been quite some time since I’ve made love and even longer since someone fucked me,” she said returning his humps with her humps. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. Hump me faster. Hump me harder. I’m cumming, Christopher. I’m cumming,” she said.
Then, ruining the mood, he shocked her by what he said next. Her only explanation, even though he said that he didn’t, clearly, he believed in love at first sight.
“I love you,” he said whispering in her ear. “I love you, Susan. I love you, Susan Jill Parker.”
# # #
She stopped humping him to unwrap her legs from around his back and her arms from around his neck. She looked at him with shocked disbelief.
“Wait. What? Back up. Get the fuck off of me,” she said staring at him. “You love me? How can you possibly love me when we just met. It hasn’t even been a full day yet,” she said with a laugh.
He laughed, too.
She pulled further away from him. Alone again and no longer a couple they were two different people separated by Susan’s wide expanse of her resistance to feel love for anyone, including herself.
“I don’t know. I just do,” he said with a shrug. “Later today, along with buying a bigger bed, sheets, pillows, and plush towels,” he said with a laugh. “Willing to make this official, I like to buy you a diamond ring.”
# # #
Navy SEAL and Homeless Woman, Ch. 9
Love at first sight, Susan, and Christopher fall in love.
# # #
Navy SEAL and Homeless Woman, Chapter 9:
Christopher and Susan sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g.
“I love you, Susan,” said Christopher.
Christopher watched Susan sitting there as if he had pulled her plug or pulled out her batteries. Emotionless, she was suddenly comatose. When most women would love to hear that and have a man commit to her, he seemingly said the wrong thing and at the wrong time by telling her that he loved her. Happy one minute and sad the next, he wondered if she was a manic depressive.
‘What just happened,’ he wondered? ‘He didn’t know. He had no idea. With her so full of life before, all that it took to turn her off was for him to say those three words that meant so much to him and obviously so little to her,’ he thought.
“I love you,” he said again.
Having never said that to anyone before, with him expecting a different reaction, he said that again to her now.
She acted as if he had said I hate you, instead of I love you. She acted as if he wanted to break up with her, not that they were ever together. She acted as if she wasn’t interested in taking whatever the fuck they had to the next level, which he, clearly, wanted to do.
With this all new to him, what did they have anyway? Obviously, from her emotionless reaction, they didn’t have anything. Obviously, even though he thought they were, they weren’t a couple. They were still strangers.
When it comes to women, he wondered if Simone, Lucy, and/or Carmen were available to give him some much needed advice if not some comfort. He wondered what they’d say and how they’d react if he told one of them that he loved her. No doubt, being that they were prostitutes and with their Johns telling them that all the time, they’d probably laugh in his face.
‘You don’t love me, Christopher. You love fucking me,’ he imagined Simone, Lucy, or Carmen saying.
A homeless woman and a Navy SEAL having only met several hours ago, he was as much of a stranger to her as she was an enigma to him. Apparently, according to her immediate negative reaction and foul response, in the way that she recoiled from him and rejected him, they didn’t have anything in common to maintain a boyfriend/girlfriend, sexual relationship, never mind love. Obvious to him now, he was wrong to tell her that he loved her. Definitely, it was too soon to say such a thing.
# # #
What is love anyway? It’s just a feeling. He had feelings for her but, with her not returning the sentiment, clearly, she didn’t have feelings for him. When too many men never wanting to commit to a relationship, when too many men just wanted to play the field, he was ready to ride off in the sunset with her. Only, and unfortunately, there was a hitch and a fly in the ointment. Clearly, she didn’t love him.
‘Houston there’s a problem. May Day! May Day! May Day! Negative to love. It’s a no go,’ he imagined saying on his headset. Abort! Abort! Abort! Abort the mission and scrub the relationship. We’re done,’ he thought.
She sat there with the look of a woman who had been badly beaten before being brutalized emotionally, physically, and sexually. She acted as if she was a human turtle hiding in her self-protective shell. Not willing to show her emotions for fear, no doubt, that she’d be hurt again, she had the look of a woman who had disappeared inside of herself and withdrawn from life.
Obviously, an understatement, she wasn’t ready for love or for any kind of a relationship for that matter. Not the best looking man, yet, especially after having his face reconditioned with the stress of combat and with one too many blows to the head, maybe she was ready for love but not with him. Yet, well above average in the looks department, he was still plenty good looking enough. Maybe, she was hoping for someone better, and someone with less psychological issues. It was a little scary when he continued referring to himself in the third person.
After his ears stopped ringing, and after the last cloud of black, putrid smoke cleared, always there was smoke after the fire and before the fire. Seemingly with her as shellshocked as he was, she had the look that he had after he survived another bloody battle. Always as if a crescendo to their mission, the air was filled with the stench of fuel, oil, and burning rubber.
He wonder how many deadly, cancerous carcinogens he inhaled. He wondered how many years being a SEAL fighting in three wars with nine deployments took off of his life. She had that same dazed and empty look that he had when looking around to survey the damage and to take inventory of the dead and the wounded. Only, her combat mission was living, and his combat mission was dying, kill or be killed.
# # #
“Don’t move! Show me your hands! Show me your hands! Get down on the ground! Get down on the ground! Don’t move,” he said so very many times that it came out of his mouth automatically!
He was surprised that when he walked in a deli and they asked him what he’d have that he didn’t respond in the way that he was trained to respond.
‘Don’t move! Show me your hands! Show me your hands! Get down on the ground! Get down on the ground! Don’t move,’ he imagined saying to a clerk at the delicatessen.
He couldn’t count how many times he said those words in English, in Arabic, in Farsi, in Dari, in Pashto, and in Tajik. Those words echoed through his brain in several languages. Yet, too many only understood a bullet to the head. They hated Americans. They hated America. They hated him. He never met so many people who were willing to die rather than to surrender to an American serviceman.
Yet, every year we support Pakistan with billions of dollars, money wasted over there that could be used to house the homeless, feed the hungry, college educate our children for free, and provide free medical care over here. For Pakistanis to hide terrorists while burning our flag, those two facts don’t bode well when Congress approved more financial aid going to Pakistan. If he were President and Commander in Chief of the military, he’d launch a bevy of smart bombs earmarked for Pakistan and Afghanistan.
‘Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! He’d blow them all to Hell.’
In an instant, the war would be over. Our puppet president in Afghanistan, in bed with the CIA from day one, held no loyalty to the United States. Even after our money made him a very wealthy man.
If he had the chance to take out the president of Afghanistan he would have. But he was protected, not so much by the Afghan military but by United States private contractors, and mercenaries, men who were once just like him. They wanted him in power. They wanted the war to continued. They wanted the money derived from lucrative, government contracts.
Only, if he had assassinated their president, Secretary Clinton, the President, and the top generals and admirals from the pentagon would have been all over his ass. No doubt, they would have blamed him for destabilizing the area. They would have blamed him for making things much worse when there was no way things could get any better over there, which is why the Russians left years ago to end their war with Afghanistan. Yet, we’re still there.
‘Why,’ he thought? ‘Why are we still there,’ he wondered? ‘Money. It’s all about money. Follow the money. Money, money, money. War is not about freedom or democracy as it is about money.’
Instead of staying a SEAL for thirty-years, he could have worked for one of those private contractors. He could have been a mercenary. He could have worked for the CIA or any secret agency that did dirty deeds behind the scenes. He would have come home with a fortune in unclaimed and untaxed cash.
No argument, he was qualified. He had the skills to kill, something that is still in high demand. They would have paid him buckets of money to work for them. Only, he saw how they worked and how they operated. Different from the SEALs, Rangers, Green Beret, and Delta Forces, he couldn’t work with someone and for someone who wasn’t watching his back and who was more concerned with their own.
Only, with all of war and foreign policy out of his control, all he could do was to retire from the Navy and go on with his civilian, private life. He couldn’t do his job anymore. The patience he once had was gone with suicide bombers. Now he fired first and asked questions later. Shoot to kill or be blown to bits was always his standing orders.
# # #
‘I love you.’
The words echoed in his head in the way of a bad dream. The words that lifted his spirit to say before made him sad now. She didn’t have to say that she didn’t love him. He knew that she didn’t love him. He saw the shocked look in her eyes when he told her that he loved her.
A nanosecond glimpse in her soul, a trained assassin, he was skilled at detecting a liar. He could walk in a room cold and know which one to shoot first. Never was he wrong. Always he was right. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be standing here as a retired SEAL. He would have been dead years ago.
With death always all around him, the stench of rotting corpses and the acrid smell of burning flesh is something he’ll never forget. To this day, he can’t enjoy a barbeque, raw meat burnt beyond recognition. How many of his buddies did he had to identify. If it wasn’t for their dog tags, they’d be buried in unmarked graves with so many other military men and women who didn’t have enough left of them to identify.
Burning alive again in his nightmares, he still relived the horror, heard their screams, and saw the faces of all those buddies he couldn’t save. Taking his gun and shooting them instead of watching them die a horrible death, acts of war never reported on the nightly news, he’s done that more than once. If the military allowed the press to report everything that they witnessed and that happened instead of classifying their dirty laundry as top secret, there’d be a Congressional investigation. Rotten from the head down, they’re be some Major, Captain, and/or Sergeant offered up as sacrificial lambs.
How many generals returned home fatter and richer than when they arrived? There’s a lot of retired generals who retired after going over to Iraq to pillage and Afghanistan to plunder. After a while, after seeing so many killed in combat, other than to fan the area with a blanket of machine gun fire, dead bodies no longer evoked a response in him. After a while, instead of killing the lowly enemy, men who were as brainwashed as he was, he wished he could kill the ones responsible for the deaths of so many of his buddies.
He suddenly felt like John Wick fighting the ‘High Counsel.’ Only, they’d court marshal and execute him if he started killing those powerful generals and dirty congressmen who knew the real story of why they were at war. Twisted enough by war and politics, it was time for him to retire and he did. No longer knowing who could trust to have his back, between the enemy, the mercenaries, the private contractors, and the CIA, he had a big target on his back.
# # #
His first time in combat, he was scared. Realizing fast that it was either him or them, fright turned to anger. Now unemotional, with bullets whizzing by his head, he used his calmness to his advantage when shooting off his 50-caliber machine gun. Still shooting until he was out of bullets or until everyone was quiet, he was a one man assault team. Because of his deadly accuracy, he had a lot of nicknames, Doctor Death, the Grim Reaper, the Sweeper, and recently, LMS, last man standing.
After a while, as if they had never lived, the dead didn’t look real. Except for the blood and the bullet holes, most appeared to be sleeping. Tit for tat and an eye for an eye, rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat, and rat-a-tat-tat, he grew tired of exchanging bullets. He envied the sniper, one bullet, one kill. Only snipers, once there was an eyeball on their location, had a short lifespan.
He could clean and fire a jammed gun faster than most could load a chamber and pull a trigger. Yet, unless he re-upped or became a mercenary soldier and worked for a private security outfit, what good is that skill now that he’s a civilian and a law abiding citizen? Hard for him to cope, always looking for love and hoping for love but with love so elusive, he never found it, until now. He loved Susan. He really loved her but it was apparent that she didn’t love him.
Being that he didn’t know what he was looking for and being that love was just a feeling, how would he even know if he stumbled over love? When he thought that he did finally find love with Susan, he thought love would set him free. Only, as if plucking a rose with one less pedal, she loves me, she loves me not, she doesn’t love him.
As if he had been shot, the look she gave him hurt more than any bullet he had taken. Surely, he’d take a bullet over her look of rejection. Her look and then her reaction to his words stopped him cold.
Defenseless against her mere words, always in control, she made him feel vulnerably unworthy of her affection. Having already survived being shot numerous times, in the way they make a vest that’s impervious to bullets, he wished someone would make a bulletproof vest to protect his heart from love. He had no idea what he would do now. Allow her to stay a few days and then let her go on her way.
It took a lot of whiskey for him to live with himself after losing all of his men in his last battle before retiring. The last man standing, even his buddies back at base looked at him as if he was bulletproof, invincible, and unable to die when he just wished he were dead. They feared him as much as they regarded him and respected him.
Even though his last mission didn’t work out as planned, no doubt, sabotaged by the bad Intel from the CIA, everyone still wanted him to lead their squad. Even if it was the other guy and not him taking the bullet, they all knew they’d have a better chance of going home alive with Navy SEAL Christopher Ryan watching their backs. With them all knowing that he had their backs, he felt good about having the dedicated and loyal support of his men.
Never considering himself lucky yet, always, he was the one spared. Always, he was the one of the ones not returning home in a body bag. Why him? Why them and not him? Why was he spared? Was he spared for Susan to rudely dismiss him, not want him, and to look at him as if he were crazy to ever think that he’d have a chance of her loving him.
She was a homeless woman and, with no one in her life in the way that he had no one in his life, even she rejected him. Now that he thought that he finally had someone in his life, he didn’t understand why his life continued to be so difficult. No longer at war, yet always it was a battle. When he’s finally open and willing to love someone, why is it so hard for someone to love him, too? He’s worked so hard. He deserved better. He deserved her love.
# # #
“I’m sorry Susan,” said Christopher staring at her withdrawing inside of herself. Going from sorrow to anger, he withdrew his apology. “Actually, I’m not sorry for falling in love with you,” he said with anger. “I’m sorry for revealing my true feelings of love so soon.”
Not even looking at him, she continued looking down at the floor.
“We’re made for one another. Don’t you see that? We were meant to be together,” he said.
He touched her hand when she didn’t look at him. He took her by her shoulders and shook her when she didn’t look at him. He wanted to slap her when she didn’t speak, but he’d never do that. Unbelievably with him having killed many women and children, convolutedly, he’d never hit a woman.
“I’m sorry Christopher,” was all that she said.
Better than saying nothing, at least she said something.
“Damn it! We’re both fucked up. Yet, here we are. You’re just as broken as I am. No woman would want me and no man can deal with you. We have too much baggage to ever be normal but why not be abnormal together? We could make it work. This is our chance for something special so why not take the chance?” He let go of her when she stared past him. “Say something. Say anything. Talk to me.”
She looked up at him with sad eyes.
“What do you want me to say? I have nothing to say,” she said finally looking at him. “I don’t love you. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? I don’t love you.”
She looked at him with cold, distant eyes. She looked at him as if he was looking at a stranger. He did it now. Just as he had turned on her switch to have sex with him, he had turned off her switch by telling her that he loved her.
How could he be so stupid not to know her reaction. If he were in field and she was some middle eastern woman, he would have summed her up with a look and at a glance. Yet, back home and a stranger in his own country, already making a big mistake, he had made the wrong move by telling her that he loved her so soon, too soon.
“I’m tired of living alone Susan. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of going places alone and doing things alone. I’m sick to death of having no one to talk to but myself. I want someone in my life. I want a woman to love and who will love me. I want you,” he said pleading his case.
She put her fingers to her lips when he leaned to kiss her.
# # #
“Don’t talk. Just don’t talk. It’s better if you don’t talk and we just have sex,” she said looking at him. “Pretend that I’m one of your special friends. Okay? Pretend that I’m a prostitute. Pretend that I’m your whore instead of the woman that you love.”
He nodded his head.
“Okay,” he said.
If he had any pride, he’d turn her down for sex but having sex with her without her having any love for him and any kind of affectionate emotion was still worth it. She was so beautiful. Surely, he could pretend she loved him while having sex with her.
“Only…”
She gave him the same impatient look that he gave his new recruits when they poured off the bus not knowing what to expect.
“What,” she asked?
He gave her a sexy smile and a dirty look.
“What about pillow talk?”
She made a face.
“Pillow talk?”
She looked at him as if he was nuts. Yet, successful with his strategy, his aim was to get her talking to him again.
“I like talking dirty while making love, sorry, I mean, having sex and I figured that you do too,” he said.
# # #
He apologized to Susan as if apologizing to his mother for his need to talk dirty after her catching him masturbating over her. Only, he wasn’t the type of guy to have fantasize having incestuous sex with his mother. Besides, Susan looked nothing like his mother, thank God.
“Yeah, I do enjoy talking dirty while having sex,” she said with a dirty laugh. “How did you know that I like pillow talk? Only, can we limit our conversation to sexual pillow talk? Once you start complimenting me, Christopher, you go overboard. You go all sappy on me,” she said with a laugh. “Not deserving of your compliments, your compliments make me feel uncomfortable. I’m not worthy of your adulation. That makes me feel bad instead of good,” she said.
He nodded his head in agreement to all that she had said.
“I know and you’re right, Susan. I’m sorry. Suddenly, something I never was, with you pushing all of my buttons, I’m needy. Obviously, I need you more than you need me,” he said revealing his private thoughts.
He paused as if thinking what more he wanted to say.
“Pining the loss of my beloved Navy SEALs, as if it’s one of my buddies that just died, I’m like one of those guys living at home with their mother. Sucking at her tit for too long, the Navy was my whole life. I never thought I’d be like that but you make me like that. I hate saying this and if my buddies ever heard me say this, I’d never hear the end of it,” he said with a sardonic, little laugh.
He looked at her with sad eyes while hoping she understood.
“Say what?”
He laughed.
“You bring out the woman in me,” he said squeezing her hand while cringing from uttering the words.
She laughed.
“What? I bring out the woman in you,” she asked while laughing?
She looked at him as if he told her that he didn’t love her when he did love her. She gave him a look that told him that it was impossible for her to not only love him but also to love anyone. Even though he felt closer to any other woman, as if she had a brick wall surrounding her, she felt distant.
She laughed again.
“What are you suddenly gay,” she asked while laughing? “Are you going gay on me Christopher?”
He laughed, too.
“Hardly,” he said with a laugh. “It’s just being with you, Susan, is different than being with the guys, an understatement,” he said laughing while looking at her sitting across from her naked. “You make me feel things that I never felt before,” he said.
He reached out to cup her big breast in his hand.
“Literally,” she said with a laugh.
She looked down at his hand fondling her breast and watched his fingers fingering her erect nipple.
# # #
“You make me want to do things that I never wanted to do before. You made me realize how much of my life I lost fighting and training men to fight someone else’s war, a war waged just for the sake of money. Money, money, money, the death, and dismemberment of some of the best men I’ve ever known, trained, and some of the best buddies I ever had are dead for the sake of money,” he said.
Suddenly he looked as sad as he looked angry.
“Now that they’re done with me, I’m done with them. Just as you’re the shell of the woman you once were, I’m the shell of the man that I used to be,” he said.
She looked at him confused.
“What do you mean?”
She asked the question but her look confessed that she already knew the answer.
“Don’t play games. You know what I mean, Susan. We both suffer from Post Traumatic Stress but for different reasons,” he said.
She waved her hands.
“I really don’t want to talk about that with you,” she said. “I’d rather not be analyzed by you.”
# # #
Paying her no never mind, he continued.
“You were raped and brutalized by your relatives and by the men in your life and I was shot at and wounded in a war that I was ordered to fight not for freedom, not for terrorism, but for money,” he said.
Ignoring her request that he not discuss that part of her life, he took a chance.
“War is big money. Their call to arms, a call that few of them have even answered themselves, old, fat, Caucasian men wave the United States flag and get rich while the rest of us die for money that our families will never have.”
She agreed with him with a nod of her pretty head.
“I am kind of a basket case,” she said ignoring his confession to make her own. “I’m sorry for having that kind of reaction when you told me you love me but it’s automatic, instinctive, and protective. I would have had less of a reaction had you slapped me across the face. Suddenly feeling suffocated, I was stunned, shocked, and surprised by what you said.”
He smiled at her.
“I get it. I do. I know what you mean. I have the same reaction when someone startles me or sneaks up on me. If I don’t catch myself, I could really hurt someone, even kill them,” he said.
With him having never talked as much, he fell silent while thinking.
“Even though I loved serving in the Navy, I’m their creation. I’m their monster. They made me who I am today, a man who lives alone, is suspicious of everyone, and barely likes himself never mind anyone else,” he said.
She laughed.
“You just described me,” she said with sadness.
He reached out to hold her hand.
“And then you come along and I’m saying something that I’ve never said to anyone before, that I love you,” he said looking at her. “I recognized something in you that I see in me. I love you Susan Jill Parker,” he said again while lifting her chin to look in her eyes. “I love you. I don’t care if you don’t want me to say it and/or if you don’t love me but I can’t help from feeling what I feel.”
He paused again while she remained silent.
“What I feel for you is a deep love. I feel affection that transgresses just having sex. If I wanted just sex I could pay to have sex with Simone, Lucy, and/or Carmen. Only, I don’t love them. I don’t want to have sex with them. I want to have sex with you,” he said.
# # #
She shook her head.
“Don’t,” she said putting her fingers to his lips. “Please stop saying that you love me when we both know that you don’t and when we both know that you just want to be in love with someone, anyone, to feel something other than death and pain.”
He looked at her with assurance.
“You’re wrong about that. Yeah, sure, I’m a desperate man filled with anger and hate but I do love you. Having never felt this way before, I recognize my feelings now as love, real love.”
Steadfast in her feelings, she looked at him with disbelief.
“Sorry Christopher but I can’t love you. I don’t know how. I don’t have it in me to love you. I don’t have it in me to love anyone,” she said falling sadly silent again. “Just in the way that you are, I’m dead inside, too.”
Not taking no for an answer, never taking no for answer, he looked at her determined for her to love him.
“Why? I don’t understand? Why can’t you love me?”
Refusing to even look at him, she put her head down.
“You don’t understand? I don’t understand how someone can love me when I don’t love myself,” she said talking to her chest.
She looked up at him while trying to make him understand.
“Sometimes, most times, all the time, I hate myself. I go around thinking that I wish I was dead. My interior monologue is filled with negative dialogue instead of with positive thoughts,” she said looking at him sitting there with his mouth gaping open.
“And, there again, you just described me,” he said nodding his head and clenching his fist as if he wanted to punch someone or hit something.
With them both consumed by frustration in trying to make sense of their feelings, having said all they needed to say, they fell silent with neither of them talking.
# # #
“Can’t we just forget about love, stop all of this talking, and just have sex,” she asked? She looked at him. “I’m still horny. I still want to cum. I need to have a sexual orgasm, Christopher. Make me cum.”
He looked at her long and hard before responding. As if she was his ship to achieve his one last chance of happiness in life, she slowly drifted away from the dock. He only had one running jump to hop aboard, otherwise, he’d be adrift at sea in the way he’s always been aimlessly floating by not confronting his emotions when having sex with a prostitute.
“Sure. Yeah. Okay. I can do that,” he said. “So long as we can still have pillow talk,” something that I don’t do with Simone, Lucy, or with Carmen. “Not much talking, we just have sex.”
She laughed.
“Pillow talk? You want pillow talk Christopher, she asked laughing? “As I said before, I can give you pillow talk. I love talking dirty,” she said grabbing his cock, stroking him, and watching his big dick grow hard in her hand. “Slam that big, hard prick in my warm, wet pussy SEAL but…,” she said.
She paused to look at him with horniness and sexual lust.
“Before you do, lick me. Lick my cunt, Christopher. Make me wet with your tongue and your fingers. Eat me. Make me cum. Give me a sexual orgasm with your mouth,” she said talking dirty to him.
She stopped talking to watch him move in between her shapely thighs. Then, she put her hands on both sides of her head to rub her vagina secretions all over his face.
“Feel my big tits and finger my erect nipples. Squeeze my tits while pulling, turning, and twisting my nipples. Make me sexually want you, Christopher. I need to cum. I need to cum with your fingers and your tongue inside of me,” she said.
She stared down at him giving her oral sex.
“Before I take your cock in my pussy and in my mouth, again, I need you to give me a sexual orgasm by eating me,” she said. “After you eat me, I can’t wait to fuck you and suck you again. I can’t wait for you to cum in my pussy and in my mouth,” she said giving him plenty of pillow talk.
She paused while waiting for him to digest all that she said.
“Then, when I’m blowing you, when I’m sucking your cock, I’ll suck you and stroke you fast and hard enough for you to shoot another warm, oozy load of cum inside my mouth that splashes against the back of my throat. Then, I’ll continue sucking you and won’t stop until you’re ready to cum again. This time, I want you to cum all over my face, in my hair, and across my naked breasts. I want you to give me a cum bath, Christopher,” she said. “I want to be dripping with your cum.”
He looked at her with disbelief.
“Holy shit! With the mouth you have on you, you could have been a SEAL,” he said laughing.
She laughed, too.
“Stop talking, Christopher, and lick my pussy while using one finger to rub my clit and your other finger to fuck my cunt,” she said grabbing him around the neck and pulling his head down to her crotch. “You’re my bitch now, bitch,” she said with a laugh.
Never one to disobey a direct order, just as commanded, Christopher fell in between Susan’s thighs again and licked her pussy while rubbing her clit with one finger and finger fucking her with his other finger. He used his other hand to reach up and fondle and squeeze her big breasts while fingering her pulling, turning, and twisting her erect, hard nipples.
“I love your blonde pussy Susan,” he said giving her his own version of pillow talk. After talking dirty to her, he came up for air before lowering his mouth to her pussy, again. “I love licking you,” he said licking and licking her while fingering her. “I love eating your cunt.”
She grabbed his head with both of her hands. Then, she rubbed his face all over her wet pussy again. He had her pussy secretions all over his face, in his nose, and in his mouth. Instead of pushing her away, he had her squirming all over the sofa cushions. He had her moaning. Then, when he felt her legs tighten, when she was obviously ready to cum, she stopped and pulled him up to her.
“I’m ready of you. Fuck me now, Christopher. I’m wet enough. I’m really to be drilled, SEAL,” she said.
Before mounting her, Christopher wiped his face with a towel that he placed by his makeshift bed. Then, he mounted her. As she told him to do, limiting his talking to pillow talk, he had his cock doing all the talking for him instead of his mouth.
Inserting himself inside of her warm and wet pussy, he slowly humped her. He made love to her. Then, humping her faster and humping her harder, he fucked her. Wrapping her long legs around his back along with her arms wrapped around his neck, she returned his fast and hard humps with her fast and hard humps. Fucking one another, it was clearly obvious that she loved him as much as he said that he loved her.
# # #
“You’re so warm. You’re so wet. You’re so tight,” he said wiggling his ass while moving his cock deeper inside of her with every hump and every thrust.
As if they were one, hump for hump and thrust for thrust, in total syncopation, they were together now for however long. She returned his passion with her own. She fucked him as hard as he fucked her. Never had she made love to anyone in the way that she made love to him. Never had she fucked anyone in the way that she fucked him.
“Fuck me Christopher,” she said humping him. “Fuck me,” she said holding him. “Slam that big, hard cock inside of me,” she said wrapping her legs tighter around his strong back. “Hump me SEAL. Fuck me. Fuck me, Christopher, really fuck me. Make me cum, again. I need to cum,” she said while giving him plenty of pillow talk.
Fucking him as hard as he was fucking her, she rolled him over. Now sitting on top of him while humping and fucking him, with her big tits bobbing, swaying, and dancing, Christopher reached up to harness her big boobs before she hurt herself with them.
“You’re tits are so big,” he said. “Your breasts are so firm,” he said. “I love your huge knockers, Susan,” he said pulling, turning, and twisting her nipples.
She laughed with glee.
“I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum, again, Christopher. You’re going to make me cum,” she said leaning down to him. “Make me cum.”
With her hair hanging down all over his face as if his head was hidden by the blonde camouflage of tall grass that grew as tall as wheat and that had been burned blonde by the hot kiss by the sun, she kissed him. Humping him while kissing him, she continued to be humped while humping him. They were fucking more than they were making love. Taking command of the situation in the way that he always did, it was Christopher’s turn to roll her over and fuck her, and he did.
Now fucking her faster and fucking her harder, he slammed his hard cock inside of her. He fucked Susan with all the strength and all the energy that he had. He wanted her to cum. Determined to make her cum, he needed her to cum. Maybe, if he could make her cum, she’d want him. Maybe, if he could make her cum again, she’d never want to be without him. Maybe, if he could make her cum, she’d fall in love with him as much as he had fallen in love with her.
“I’m cumming, Christopher. Oh, God. Oh God, I’m cumming. Yeah, that’s it, baby. Right there. Right there. Don’t stop. Hump me faster. Hump me harder. Fuck me, Christopher. Fuck me. Fuck me faster. Fuck me fuck me harder. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” she said.
Totally spent, they collapsed in one another’s arms. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever and what seemed like an hour when it was only a few minutes. He kissed her in the way that he had never passionately kissed her or anyone before. Surprisingly, she not only allowed him to kiss her, French kiss her but also, she returned his passion kiss with her passionate kiss.
“That was amazing Susan,” he said kissing her again and again while fondling her naked breasts.
She put her fingers to her lips.
“Shh,” she said. “Don’t ruin the moment by talking.”
Her eyes were closed and she looked as if she was sleeping. As if saying the words in her sleep while she was dreaming or sexually fantasizing, she surprised him by what she said next.
“I love you, Christopher.”
To be continued…