Bowed - M.V. Ellis

Chapter 1

Rome

I slammed in and out of the tight pussy and leaned my head back, screwing my eyes closed tight. I figured if I ignored who was in front of me, naked as the day she was born, legs spread wide, heels on the edge of the dining table, I could imagine she was someone else—a certain someone in fact.

I let the images flood my mind. It was like a movie with only one character. In actual fact, it was like a video scrapbook—less fantasy, and more a montage or highlights reel of remembered moments, pieced together in my mind. A smile here, a look there. The sight of my dick as it slid in and out of her, the way she felt wrapped around me, gripping me tight. The twinkle in her eyes when she was happy, and the fire in them when she wasn’t.

I thrust deeper, my dick hardening with every image that passed through my mind, as I chased an orgasm that seemed to always be just out of my reach. It was like the feeling of trying to recall a dream. It seemed so close I could almost touch it, but just as I had it in my grasp, it would slip through my fingers yet again, like grains of sand through a timer, and the harder I tried to hold onto it, the more illusory it seemed. Jesus, I was losing my fucking mind.

I opened my eyes again, focused on the woman in front of me. Specifically on her tits, that should have been enough to get me off. I pumped faster and fought harder for the elusive climax.

“Jesus Christ, Rome, how many goddammed times have I told you? I don’t care what or who you do, as long as you keep it out of the communal areas. Why is that too fucking much to ask?”

And there went my orgasm. Fuck that motherfucker. I pulled out, leaving my company writhing into nothing. She looked up at me confused, as though she hadn’t even heard King’s voice, and, judging by the look of surprise when she saw him, I guessed that was the case.

I honestly wished I was so out of it I had no idea what was going on around me too, but I wasn’t. In fact, I wasn’t out of it at all, sadly. I nodded my chin toward the door, then shrugged at my guest. She got the hint, and began scrabbling around the room for her discarded possessions.

After pulling off the condom, and reaching across to hurl it into the trash, I immediately turned my attention back to King, not even waiting to watch her leave, let alone tell her goodbye. Nor did I bother to make any effort to cover myself. I still had the raging boner from hell, and I wasn’t about to let King forget that I was going to be walking around with a chronic case of blue balls, thanks to him. Not that he was the only reason, or even a small fraction of the reason, in reality, but he didn’t need to know that.

He glanced down at my bobbing dick, and then back to me, raising a questioning eyebrow. I raised mine right back, daring him to say something. He stayed silent, just like I knew he would.

“It’s too much to ask, because when you fucking forced me into this Brady Bunch shitshow with the three of us, you both specifically said that this was just as much my home as yours, and that I could come and go as I please, just like I always have. Well, this is me doing what I always do, fucking who, when, where, and how I like, and at the same time, exposing the two of you for the hypocritical liars that you are.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, it’s not exactly cryptic, is it? You lied, both of you, to get me here, and now you can’t deal with the reality of that.”

“So, you’re doing this to spite us?”

“No. How the hell did you get that from what I just said? I’m just living my fucking life, the way you said it was okay to carry on doing, even with all of us here together. Which clearly was bullshit.”

“It wasn’t bullshit, but give us a fucking break. As if we want to come down for coffee and find you screwing on the kitchen table.”

“Really? Because I can’t even count how many times I’ve done exactly that in