I loved tiny little stores full of ancient books and dusty furniture and that delicious smell of old wood and paper. This particular store was all dark shadows and sudden streams of sunlight with dust motes gleaming golden where they danced in the light coming through the windows. The old man in the front had nodded at me, gruffly distracted by the jewellery box he was repairing and I'd taken advantage of his distraction to wander up a set of rickety stairs leading to the top floor of the building, ignoring the 'employees only' sign. The entire placed looked as if I was about to have a C.S Lewis wardrobe moment.
The ring flashed ruby red in a sudden stream of sunlight, drawing my eyes and then my body to where it was perched on the lustrous mahogany vanity set against the wall. It had been tucked away and a thin, silver shawl drawn over it at some stage but the fabric had moved and now the gorgeous piece of jewellery sat there glittering temptation at me. It was enormous. Big, red ruby stone set at the heart of an amethyst flower and cradled by faded gold. I had to touch it – couldn't resist pulling it out from under all that old dusty material and into the light.
"Perfection," I sighed happily, watching as it sparkled entrancingly. I ran a finger over the crimson rock, just about salivating, and then gave a tiny shriek of shock as the edge of the stone sliced sharp and deep into my finger, the cut an instant, searing agony.
"Motherfucker!" I exclaimed, jerking my finger away from the now blood smeared rock and sucked my bleeding finger into my mouth. It hurt a ridiculous amount and the insistent throb made me put the now not-so-appealing ring grouchily down. Ugh. "I hope the damn thing doesn't give me gangrene," I thought darkly as I made my sneaky way down the stair and out the store, saying a distracted farewell to the suddenly cheery old man at the front desk.
The day outside was a scorcher but the way the heat hit me, like a sledgehammer to the head, didn't really make much sense. I loved the summer – was far more at home in the blistering hot than I ever was in the cold but right now I felt distinctly...uncomfortable. Everything was fuzzy at the edges, heat mirages shimmering all over my vision, and I cursed silently before taking a swig at my water bottle. As I started to walk towards school – I was already late for Saturday Glee club rehearsal – the throb of the cut finger turned into a shattering ache that sent waves of intense, feverish heat radiating from the torn skin all through my body. The feeling beat at me, over and over again, like being sick but not. I was tingling, every inch of my skin on fire, goose bumps pulling at the hairs of my hair and body. "What the fuck even?" I asked in amazement, staring at the swollen tip of the offending finger in bewilderment.
Clearly there was something wrong with that ring. The place where it had cut me was not a thin, pale pink line as it should have been. The cut was instead crusted with gold and streaks of the iridescent colour tracked all the way down my hand and up my arm, looking as if I'd painted myself with golden glitter. Just then the throbbing heat struck right at my womb and I barely strangled a moan. My hand went to my pulsing clit, whimpering at the swollen, gushing wetness there and my eyes blinked even wider. "Seriously, what the fuck!" I was firmly in the realm of alarmed now.
"Mercedes? Hey Cedes!"
I looked up at the familiar voice and watched as Sam Evans jogged across the street towards me, big smile wreathing his stupidly pretty face. "Oh Jesus not now," I groaned, forcing my body straight against the wall behind me and my hand away from my leaking snatch. As he came closer it was like my entire body yearned towards him. My nipples peaked so hard I involuntarily arched my back, sparing a slightly horrified glance at the way they were poking rudely through my dress.
"Down boobies," I hissed at them, "This boy is taken!"
Sam was with Quinn – who treated him like shit – but then lately Quinn treated everybody like shit. The boy came across as dorkishly simple and I couldn't help feeling a little pang of sympathy for him and his too-sincere-for-high-school puppy dog love. We had bonded over our love of sci-fi, fantasy and comic books and I could admit that Sam Evans had already started making a home for himself in my heart. It didn't help how pretty he was – god so pretty – with those big, pink lips and that ridiculously blonde hair and all. That. Muscle. Oh Jesus. I needed to get to a rest room quick 'cos I was about to come all over myself and I could feel that this was going to be a wet one.
"Mercedes, are you ok?" Sam asked, concerned green gaze on my hot face. I could feel sweat gleaming on my nose and my mouth was dry cos I was panting – trying to catch my breath between the devastating waves of arousal that were beating at me like the sea at high tide.
"I'm fine Sam – fine. I just need - " My head thumped back against the brick wall as a particularly vicious wave of heat pierced right through me. My womb constricted tight, inner vaginal walls an oozing ache. I didn't quite manage to strangle the sob that made a valiant escape attempt from my mouth.
"No, no you're not," he said darkly, stepping closer and reaching out one huge hand to my face. I wanted his touch so badly – everything in me yearned for that touch. I could have wept from imagining the feel of his skin against mine but he couldn't do that – he couldn't...
"Don't touch me!" I gasped, skittering sideways like a panic stricken crab. If he touched me I didn't know what I would do.
Sam drew his hand back, looking a little hurt. But then something stubborn came into his eyes and I groaned because I knew he was going to go ahead and insist on feeling up m forehead and then I was going to launch myself at him and maul him in the damn street in front of God and everybody oh lord! I turned, trying to convince my body that it wanted to move away from Sam and not towards him, but I was too slow.
"Look," he began, hand curling tight around my wrist and spinning me back towards him. His brow was furrowed and his eyes dark green thunder. "I get that you and I haven't exactly spent much time together but I thought, after we hung out last time, that we..."
Everything else he said after that was drowned in the rush of blood departing my brain and screaming its way down to my nethers. I sobbed, arching my body into him, eyes tightly shut in shame and head turned away from his astonished gaze.
"What -" he began then stilled as he took in my dewy complexion, panting lips, rock hard nipples and the ragged, desperate whimpers spilling from my mouth. Sam had struck me as a man of very decisive action from the first moment I'd seen him, and the boy did not disappoint. With a quick look around at our surroundings he slipped an arm around my waist and just about carried me down the alley from the ice cream parlour, across the Pizza Hut parking lot and into the shadowed, leafy, abandoned, green coolness of Wilson Park. He placed me against the thick trunk of a tree, the bark a welcome roughness at my back, and then cupped my hot little face in his hands.
"Look at me," he commanded in a voice I'd never heard from him before and I couldn't do anything but obey, keening slightly as my bra rubbed at my breasts. His face was so close to mine, so close, his eyes furious and filled with worry.
"Did you take something? What did you take?" he demanded.
"Nothing Sam! Nothing!" I gasped, arching again, wriggling against the bark. I slid my hands feverishly up his biceps, moaning softly, then wound them tight around his neck, arching into the hard, unyielding solidness of his chest and abs.
"I need to get you to a hospital," he muttered, moving as if to disengage from my frantic arms, but I couldn't let him – I couldn't let him go. I was dying, eaten alive from the inside by lust, and with red hazed determination I pulled him down to me and sealed our mouths together, my tongue a wet, slick tangle at his lips.
He pulled away, my name a shocked exhalation, panted against my lips. "Mercedes!"
"Please Sam – please Sammy. I need you to touch me – please."
He swallowed, Adams apple bobbing, face flushed and lips already swollen from my kisses. "Christ!" he groaned before plunging his tongue back into my mouth and kissing me breathless – kissing me till I was drowning in the smell and heat of Sam. I whimpered as his palm rose and cupped the turgid thrust of my breast, kneading at the agonisingly aroused cushion. The sleeves of the dress slid down and off and then he pulled the straining globes of my breast up and out of the bra, the dark nipples pointing invitingly right at his mouth. He bent his head and sucked them, one after the other, into the soaking sauna of his mouth and each tug felt as if it was pulling at my pulsing clit.
His glorious, clever hands found their way to the rounded jiggle of my ass and dug in, squeezing and separating. He thrust a knee between my legs and I rode the hard length of muscle, wantonly grinding my soaking wet pussy there till my orgasm came on me, fierce and sudden, leaving me a squealing, shuddering mess in his arms.
"Oh God – you gorgeous – Mercy," he moaned, face a little shocked, eyes desperately turned on. With a hungry growl he bore me down to the pale green grass, roughly spread my thick thighs and dragged the dripping wet gusset of my panties to the side, exposing the steadily leaking, puffy folds of my cunny.
"Look at that pussy, look at it," he whispered harshly, his thumbs parting the swollen lips, his eyes a relentlessly smouldering at the hungrily grasping, throbbing heart of me. "I'm going to eat this fat, juicy little pussy," he husked, hoisting my legs over his broad shoulder. "Going to feed it with my tongue and my cock. You like that Cedes? You want me to fuck that fat, juicy, little hole?"
My answer was a shrill cry as I spread my legs wantonly wider, reaching down to bring myself off as the lust rose again inside me, all thick, swirly, syrupy burn. Oh god it hurt!
"No! This pussy belongs to me – just mine. You don't touch," he said furiously, pinning my hands away. I sobbed, thrusting up against his chin, "Yes Sammy, yes," I whimpered, desperate to get his mouth on me. Finally – fucking finally – he complied, swiping his muscular tongue in a long, hard line from my spasming opening to the erect nubbin of my clit. I came again, then again, on the ruthless suck, and lick and bite of his lips and tongue and teeth – my entire body eaten alive by his mouth at my weeping cunny.
"Fuck Cedes look at you." He was looming over me now, his face all kinds of wrecked and disbelieving, his hair a messy fall into his eyes. I couldn't breathe – was still burning. I needed him inside, needed him to fuck me. I sat up then, fingers going with a kind of hysteria at his crotch, sloppily kissing and biting his chin and mouth, making him hiss as I drew blood.
His cock, finally, was all big, dripping red and hard and veiny delicious. I wanted it in my mouth and in my pussy and in my ass but right now I needed it, needed it, crushing open my cunt.
"I don't have protection," he just about wept, face as red as his drooling member.
"I don't care," I gasped into his shocked wide mouth before, with single minded intent, I slung my leg over his thighs and sank down and down and down onto his cock. When he was seated balls deep in me, both of us breathing like we'd run a marathon, he tipped my head up from where it had fallen to his shoulder and kissed me, tender and depthless. When he began to move tears spilt from my eyes because this feeling – this feeling was every single thing I had ever wanted in my whole, short life, and it was stolen. He didn't belong to me.
Soon though the driving steel of his thrusts shoved every thought from my head. It was as if he was drilling himself into my womb, through my belly and into my throat, burying himself so deep I'd never get him out again. I screamed when that final, devastating climax found me. It burst from me like light glowing from every inch of my skin, come spurting hot and drenching Sam's still thrusting body. He tried to pull out of me when his own orgasm clutched at him, turning his entire body into a long, taught stretch of muscle, but I wouldn't let him – couldn't. As his seed sprayed at the inside of me it felt at once as one of the most self destructive things I had ever done – and one of the most healing.
When I came to, because after that last brain destroying orgasm I literally passed out, Sam was curled around me, his arms tight around me and his lips against my forehead, singing softly. "So you think Jamie Foxx's Fall for your type is a suitable song for this moment?" I asked, voice filled with mortification and amusement.
He chuckled, voice still gravel deep from arousal. "It just happened to be the tune in my head. The melody calms me."
I took a deep breath and sat up, wiping surreptitiously at the tears suddenly stinging my eyes. "What happened Mercedes? What was that?" He sat up, heat of his body behind mine.
"I don't think you should keep touching me," I whispered as his hand trailed warm and irresistible across the nape of my neck and down my back. The fever was gone – the throbbing from the mysterious cut delivered by the ring disappeared – but his touch still felt like addiction.
"Fuck that," he said, voice hard and flat, before sliding his arms entirely around me, pulling me flush against him. "Tell me what happened."
And so, with a full body shudder of surrender, I did.