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“I want to touch you,” I say, brushing my fingers up his arm.

The expression in his eyes changes to one of desire. We’ve only been together once, and then she forbade it. But if he’s anything like me, that’s only made him want it more. Being in close proximity to Tom, knowing what his body can do to me, how his flesh can pierce mine, enter me fully, make me experience paroxysms of pure ecstasy, and not being able to indulge in that pleasure might be the Head’s greatest torment yet.

“I want to touch you, too,” he says, glancing upward for a moment, acknowledging the cameras which watch us all the time. I am used to being observed. It never used to bother me, but suddenly I feel intruded upon, violated somehow.

“Let’s just do it. To hell with that bitch. I want you. I need you.” I reach for him and curl my fingers in the fabric of his collar, pulling the two sides of his shirt apart enough to see the curly dark hair over his chest. He has a thick pelt, like an animal. It is one of the masculine differences between us which I love.

“Please,” I whisper. “Do me.”

He lets out a groan and I feel the hardness which never seems to be all that far away when we are close. I press against his cock, our clothes doing little to stop me from feeling him.

“Electra,” he growls softly. “This is dangerous.”

“Everything is,” I whisper back. “We need to do this. I have to have you. Please.”

I reach down to his waist and I play with the seam of his fly. There is so little keeping the flesh monster caged. He makes a grunting sound as I pull his fly down and reach into the gap in his pants, wrapping my fingers around the thick, throbbing rod, feeling the smooth hardness of his cock.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” he groans, his dick pulsing with his heartbeat.

“I am trouble,” I tell him. “I was conceived in trouble.”

I reach down my body, I push my pants down and I press up against him. The soft curling hair which covers my pubic mound entangles with his own dark hair as his cock glides between us.

“Fuck,” he grunts with a rare curse, reaching down to grab me by the cheeks. He uses my stinging bottom as a handhold and he hikes me up against his hard body, positioning the tight opening to my tender core above the spear of his rod. I am soaked with anticipation as he holds me there, kissing my neck, my lips, murmured words of censure and desire all mixed up together, culminating in two which make me tingle from my clit to my toes. “Bad girl.”

Tom is the most level-headed man I know, but sex makes all men monsters. I can see the animal inside him surfacing, the look in his eyes giving me a hint of the rough power he has at his disposal.

Day to day, he is always so kind. So gentle. But I sense that there is a part of him which is not kind or gentle, which demands to be fed, which roars with desire as the thick head of his cock finds the soft parting of my lower lips and begins to draw me down on his cock against all orders.

I don’t believe the world can be a civilized place. How can it be, when there is this connection between people, this wild instinct which seems to be common to all of us. I thought my animal madness was something foreign programmed into me, but seeing Tom this way, sensing his wildness, I am beginning to think that I am not strange in any way. I am essentially human, without the burden of socialization.

My moan is carnal as I feel him begin to impale me. He is moving me slowly, but that does not make this act any less brutal. I am tight, but still only one act of congress away from being a virgin. My body knows enough to be consumed with desire, but I am not yet practiced and the distance between the first time he took me and now has made things tighten all over again.

“Slow… slow…” I whisper against his mouth, feeling the tickle of his stubble against my much softer skin.

He makes it slow. He makes it excruciatingly slow, letting my body descend on his dick a fraction of an inch at a time. I feel myself adjusting, my inner wall spreading and relaxing, embracing the heat of his hard cock as he goes deeper and deeper, deeper still until finally I am fully penetrated, yet not entirely satisfied.

Tom lifts me up, drawing me aloft again, denying me his cock before he returns it to me again, long, slow, controlled strokes which are accompanied by the wet sounds of my sex. I produce the liquid which makes our bodies flow, my wetness coating his cock more with every stroke until I feel him so deep and so perfectly joined with me that it seems as though we are just one beast.


Tags: Loki Renard Fantasy