Chapter 198: Fallback PositionAlexandra Erin on January 22, 2014 in Volume 2 Book 6: Career Counseling, Volume 2: Sophomore Effort
In Which Things Come Apart At The Seams
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Maybe the fact that we still went ahead after all the excitement might have said something about the truth of Steff’s earlier statement about an undead pants attack not being the worst or weirdest mishap we’d ever had on the way to the bed.
Neither one of us was hurt or too badly shaking, our blood was pumping, and after all that trouble it would have seemed like a huge waste to not go through with it.
Steff looked at me, as if to confirm that we were on the same page. To answer, I took hold of the hem of my shirt and started to lift it up and off.
“No… wait,” Steff said, reaching out and restraining me with just the lightest brush of her fingertips against my arm. “Leave it on.”
As if to prove that there was nothing in the heat of the moment that wouldn’t both embarrass and turn me on, I felt myself flushing with heat at this touch. It seemed impossible that not stripping further could become a sexual act, and yet the very idea felt… well… impossibly sexual.
“Funny,” I said, when I’d had a moment to recover. “You’re not usually one to leave things to the imagination.”
“Oh, you have no idea what I leave up to my imagination… or what it gets up to, when it’s left alone,” she said.
“I have some ideas,” I said.
“You mean, I don’t subscribe to the whole less-is-more idea when it comes to things being sexy,” she said. “And I mostly don’t… though everyone likes a good tease now and then. But I’ve seen you naked, so I don’t have to imagine that. On the other hand, if I get you half-naked, I can imagine all sorts of things.”
“Like me with a better chest?”
“Like… all the reasons you might be half-naked,” she said. “They can be interesting compared to the reasons for being completely naked.”
“Are you saying you want to… roleplay?” I asked, not sure how I felt about that.
In theory, there were a lot of things that might be fun to experience as a fantasy that I didn’t want to do in real life, but in practice… well, it had taken me a long time to get over being self-conscious about sex in general, to the extent that I even had.
“Nah, because then I’d have to pick a scenario and stick with it,” Steff said. “I’m more about the suggestive visuals… but you know, the thing about visuals is that they should be seen and not heard, so I think we’re done with the part of this where you’re talking.”
I didn’t say anything to that, for obvious reasons… I didn’t even nod. It wasn’t necessary to answer. I would have said something if I’d had a problem with Steff’s parameters, but the best way to demonstrate my compliance was… complying.
In the silence, I could hear everything… my blood pounding in my head, Steff’s occasional breath. She walked around me in a slow circle, looking me up and down like she was searching for a vulnerable point. Steff could give the best predator eye of anyone I’d ever met who wasn’t actually a predator, and she did so now, spearing me with glances at my breasts, my crotch, my face, and probably my ass. She did another circuit and then stopped behind me.
“Maybe I should throw a knife at your head more often,” she said. She bunched up the back of my shirt in her fist, twisting it around so that it tightened around me. “See how close I can get.”
She used the shirt like reins to steer me over to the wall. In moments like this when Steff took such direct control of me was when I was most acutely aware of how much stronger I was. She wasn’t gently nudging me and I wasn’t just playing along… you don’t have to be stronger than someone to shove them, and if you shove someone hard enough in the right way they have a choice of go along with it or fall over. I could have planted my feet and dug in my heels and maybe stopped her. I probably would have fallen over anyway, but that would leave her with no further means of controlling my movement.
I could have done that, but I didn’t.
That’s what made it submission.
And that’s what made it hot.
It had taken me a long time to come to understand the active role I played in this, to realize that I didn’t just stick with submission because it was easier to be involved in things when I could displace the responsibility onto someone else. Maybe that had something to do with why submission worked for me, but whatever the whys and wherefores were, it did work me, like nothing else did.
My underwear had already been pulled out of place a bit by the earlier struggles, and the short walk to the wall had been enough for them to slip down off my hips… it felt like the elastic might have given a little. It only took a little deft guidance from Steff for them to fall to the floor, and then she slammed me against the wall, hard.
With my face pressed up against the wall, Steff pressed her body against my back. She couldn’t fuck me, not at this angle, but I was still tensed for it all the same. Ultimately that was a bad idea, since tense was pretty much the opposite of what someone should be in the position she was going to put me in, but it was a reaction.
I’ve heard that anal sex doesn’t have to hurt.
I’ve heard people go so far and say that it’s not supposed to hurt… or more strongly, that it’s supposed to not hurt and that if it does you should stop because you’re doing it wrong and possibly damaging something.
I didn’t have to worry about damage. It wasn’t even a matter of knowing that anything another body could do to mine could be healed… knowledge that Steff leaned on in her other relationships… but the simple fact that nothing Steff could do to my flesh with hers would leave so much as a mark, never mind a tear.
That’s tear as in rip, by the way… as in what I’d done to my jeans. There were usually plenty of tears, as in teardrops.
Being safe from harm meant I was safe to hurt.
I’ve heard… from someone who would know… that elves can slip inside a person as easily and gracefully as they slip into a room. I think Steff leaned on her elven nature to accomplish what she did. The human in her meant that she couldn’t just slide her way in without resistance, but the elf let her keep going in spite of the resistance… made it easier for her to be as hard on me as she was and still keep moving.
And she was hard.
She probably could have lined herself up with the opening on the first try and just pushed her way in. She’d done it before. This time, she took her time. I felt the hot, slightly slick head of her dick resting at the top of my cleft. She adusted it, dragging it down the crack. I yelped a little when it touched home. From an objective point of view, Steff’s body was probably hot even by human standards, but mine was hotter… I mean, temperature-wise, obviously. She felt cool to my touch, in comparison.
Not that I was touching her. She was touching me. My hands were where she’d left them, bound as tight by our shared desire as if Steff had used more magic to fix them in place.
Okay, maybe not as tight… she was right about our need to get actual mundane bondage gear. For now, imagination would have to do.
She grabbed a handful of my hair the same way she’d grabbed my shirt and gave it a twist.
“Mind on me,” she said, reproachfully.
It had been on her, but I knew what she meant… she’d noticed me zoning out. Thinking about what I was feeling and experiencing was part of how I processed it, but it could go too far. The present moment was my gift to Steff, but that meant nothing if I wasn’t living in it.
So I gave myself over to the present, and over to her.
“What were you thinking about?” she asked.
“How much it’s going to hurt,” I said.
“How much what is going to hurt?” Steff asked, gripping my ass with the tips of her fingers.
“How much it’s going to hurt when you…” I said.
“When I what?” Steff said, her nails digging into my skin, cutting without breaking.
Maybe the hesitation seems weird, but here’s the thing: when shy people grow up and start doing grown-up things, we don’t stop being shy. It’s one thing to talk about these kinds of things in the abstract or after the fact, but in the heat of the moment… well, okay, sometimes the heat of said moment can make it easier, but there’s not a hard and fast rule at play there.
“When you fuck me,” I said, the word wrenching out of my body like a miniature orgasm.
“Well, of course it will hurt,” she said. “Why shouldn’t it? Your pain, my pleasure… that’s what I’m here for, and you’re here for me.”
Yes, I thought, though I kept the word from escaping my lips… just barely.
“And when it’s done, you’ll thank me for it,” she said. “In fact… in fact, I think you should show your appreciation now… up front.”
Up front could only mean one thing with Steff, and so I wasn’t surprised when she spun me around and pushed me down to my knees.
“Oh, wait,” she said. “I’ve just… I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”
She went off to the side, and there was a sound of ripping fabric again, repeated a few times. Then she came back with strips of denim she’d cut from my jeans.
It occurred to me only when I saw the tatters reduced to tatters that the garment probably could have been saved using a mending spell. Now that they were in pieces… and you couldn’t cut denim very neatly using a knife, so the pieces themselves were pretty raggedy… it would be harder and more complicated to put it back together, maybe not even worth it.
Although to be honest I liked the idea of getting them replaced better. Rational or not, I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to quite trust a pair of pants again, after it had tried to eat me.
And here Steff was, wanting to bind me with its corpse.
Okay, that made it sound more ghoulish than it actually was. While I wouldn’t have wanted to wear the same pair of intact jeans again, the pieces looked pretty harmless. I’d felt the change in them when I’d torn them apart to begin with, and now they were even further damaged.
Anyway, I’d already proven that I had nothing to fear from mere fabric… even if my arms were bent in a position where I couldn’t bring a lot of force to bear or whatever, I had other abilities.
While I was working my way through those thoughts, Steff was working. I figured it was only because of the low quality of the material that it took her as long as it did to get my arms tied together, forearms wrapped up tight like a mu… like a non-corpse-related thing in tight linen wrapping.
Then she was in front of me. I wasn’t sure at what point she’d taken her own underwear off… possibly sometime the day before… but she’d hitched up her dress and her penis was there, pale and stiff and ready, her dainty little balls as smooth as her legs, as smooth as the shaft.
“Open wide,” Steff said, though it was more like open wider… my mouth tended to hang open when there was a dick attached to someone I loved in front of it.
I did love Steff… and in terms of physical affection, I didn’t know any better, stronger, or more direct way to show it than by taking her into my mouth. I sort of enjoyed kissing, but it was more something that I understood was what people did when they loved each other. I could let her fuck me… would, before we were finished… but my part in that transaction was so receptive. This was something I could do, and… though I didn’t really have a basis for comparison… something I thought I did pretty well.
There might have been people out there with more skill, but I tried to make up for it in enthusiasm.
Not the Steff needed much enthusiasm on my end. The way she rode my mouth, I could easily have been as passive as when she fucked me the other way. At first I was trying to meet her thrusts, but then I found myself moving with them to avoid choking. She wasn’t at quite the right angle to just slip into my throat, and anyway I needed to relax for that, and this was fun in its own way but it wasn’t relaxing.
Then I really started to gag for a moment as Steff came for the first time, spilling her lukewarm seed in my mouth. She lost her first two loads of the evening down my throat, the first one almost immediately and the second one only after a lot of patient pumping and sucking. Her elven heritage meant she could go three or even more times pretty easily, but each one took a little more time and effort than the last.
Which was one reason why she liked to get one or two out of the way first, especially when she had this much pent-up need.
When she was satisfied that I’d swallowed the last drop, then she hauled me to my feet… with more than a little help from my legs… and turned me towards the wall before reconsidering and shoving me over the side of the bed instead. There was no way for me to brace myself with my arms behind my back.
Then, with my hands tied and head pushed down into the covers, Steff lined herself up behind me and went to work… which in purely technical terms was the phase of butt sex that came before going to town, apparently.
The things that went through my head when I was tied up, bent over, and about to be taken from behind…
There was some work involved, though. The thing about penetration is that there’s this build-up to it. Steff could push with more and more pressure and she’d just be pushing, but then she’d reach a certain threshold and then it would… happen. Even then, it’s more of a process than a moment. There’s the opening, the slipping inside, the slippingfurther inside, and so on until I had a half-elf girl’s cock jammed up inside me and her hips against my ass.
And each and every one of those moments, there was the further sensation of holy fuck this is actually happening, spelled out in the language of pain with subtitles in excitement.
Again, I’ve heard that it doesn’t have to hurt.
It certainly hurt less the times I’d tried it with Ian, though I tended to be more sore afterwards.
Steff had said it: my pain, her pleasure.
There was pleasure in it for me, too… not just the masochism glow that ran underneath and behind the pain, but actual little spurts of warm pleasure. I’m sure that there was pain in it for Steff, too. Riding my ass raw like she did had to be the penile equivalent of punching a brick wall, and everybody who’s reading this who has a penis is welcome for that thought.
She did it, though… again and again, harder and faster until my whole world contracted into a tiny dark-bright ball of pain, arousal, pain, pleasure, and pain. My world moved with the strokes of her cock. Stars swam behind and in front of my eyes. Someone let out a hoarse, bellowing scream.
There was a ripping sound behind me, and then my hands were clutching the top cover of the bed. We fell backwards, sideways, Steff still inside me, bouncing me up and down on her lap.
Her grip on me shifted as we shifted, and her hands brushed between my legs. I went off like a straining catapult. She pulled me down and threw herself backwards, thrusting up as she came one last explosive time, then we laid there tangled among the blankets and sheets and each other.
“Fuck,” Steff whispered.
“Don’t you ever think of anything else?”
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