Bad Penny Ch. 10

She hesitated, and I butted my now hardening cock against her lips again. Perhaps she realised I had stopped peeing, although I had not put on the shower, and her face and my cock would still be covered by the urine, but she complied. She sucked me in, sucked me hard and deep, and I held her still as I let my hips pump into her. I face fucked her. Skull fucked her. Call it what you will. Whatever it was it was not lovemaking.

I took her throat, and she gagged and gasped and I gave her no respite. I was going for my own orgasm, and paying no heed to her. I used her. I came in her, shooting my seed straight down her throat, holding her tight to my stomach as she struggled for air.

When I let her go she half collapsed, and I looked down at her with a fury I couldn't understand. Self disgust and disgust with her were mixed in equal measure. How could I have done that? How could she have let me? For that matter hadn't she made me do it, by being so inviting to be abused? She was such a passive, piss covered lump. I wanted to slap her, to pick her up and shake her, to piss on her again. I hated her. I hated me.

I turned on the shower, scrubbed myself clean in fury, standing over her as she lay with the shampoo suds falling off me onto her, the water cascading down my body and off the end of my half hard cock like an endless stream of clean pee.

I didn't feel any cleaner, and my rage had not subsided when I turned and stepped out of the shower. I dropped the shampoo bottle into her lap, hardly bearing to look at her, and said "Clean yourself. Wash yourself and get dressed. Now. You will be late for class."

I ate while she scrubbed. I dressed as she dried her hair. We didn't speak. We walked to the end of University Square and I said to her "I will be going to my parents' tonight. I will see you at lunch tomorrow." Even her look of despair did not soften my heart.

When I came out of my lecture at 1.00 pm the next day she was waiting. She looked up at me shyly. Conversation was stilted, and when we sat down with the others in the Great Hall I found myself chatting to them rather than her. At two, when she had a class, but I did not, she rose from the seat beside me and said quietly "Will I see you back at the flat later?"

I looked up at her and said " Yes. I finish at five."

The hope on her face was almost enough to melt the ball of ice and iron that had replaced my insides. Almost.

I had talked again with my father the night before. I told him I was finding her passivity difficult, that Penny wanted me to make every decision, every choice, that she was too eager to please me, and had stopped being the lively, fun girl she had been. And that I didn't understand it. And that I was starting to hate it.

He has given me one of his long looks. Eventually he said "Can't say that I have ever had that problem with your Mother."

I laughed. I was sure that was true. Mum was no pushover.

"So Penny is clinging to you, worried that she will annoy you. Now if you were the irascible type I could see why she might be scared. The only other reason I can think of is that she really does think that you will leave her if she annoys you. Which is self defeating, since it is annoying you. Of course maybe she is right, after what you said a few weeks ago. Maybe she has sensed your doubts. Is she jealous? Have you been flirting too much with other girls? You said there wasn't anyone else, but are you subconsciously looking elsewhere?"

I conceded that might be the case, denying any intentional unfaithfulness, and avowed that I wanted it to work with Penny. "The thing is that her clinging and keenness to please is driving me nuts. I want a girl-friend not a girl doormat."

"Hmm. You want a Siamese, not a Spaniel."

I was struck by that. Dogs have owners. Cats have staff. The metaphor rang true, for both of us. I was a human who wanted to serve her, out of my choice, because she was lovely and admirable, and be rewarded by her love. She was a spaniel, devoted and hopeless, with no choice and no comprehension of how to be lovely other than being a slave.

Dad waited for me to think about that, and poured more tea. I looked up at him and said "Okay, so how do I get Penny to be more cat-like?"

Dad looked at me, and I thought there was sorrow in his eyes. "Good question. I'll be honest, I'm not sure you can. You know I like her, but the signs have always been there. She has always been more likely to chase sticks than mice. I am not sure you can change a person that much." He saw how downhearted that made me, and tried to rally me. "Still, you can teach a young dog new tricks." He grinned, and then added quickly "Not that I'm calling Penny a 'dog' of course. You know I've always thought she is very pretty."

I laughed. We talked about her being insecure, and how to combat it. Talking to her, encouraging her to stand up for herself, to be more assertive. I agreed with all of it. But I thought it hopeless. I knew that Tara was right. Penny wanted to be controlled, to be told what to do. It was easier for her. It absolved her of guilt. It was in her nature to be that way.

When I got to the flat at a quarter past five that afternoon I paused at the door before I put my key in. I found I was full of dread. Not fear of Penny, but fear of what I might do. Fear of being angry. As my father had said, there is no point in being angry at a dog for being a dog.

I hung my jacket in the hall and dropped my bag, and turned to the living room. She was there. On the big chair, she had been reading, but as I stepped in the door she was rising, and in a moment she was flinging herself into my arms.

There were tears, and kisses and pleas, and I went on a roller coaster ride through passion and bitterness, heartbreaking sympathy and fiery despite. It took hours. At one point I shouted at her, loosing my control, telling her of course I fucking loved her, but I wanted her to be a human being not a fucking sponge.

It might all have ended that night. I'm still not sure that it was better that it didn't.

We ended up in bed. We didn't make love. We didn't have sex or fuck either. We just lay together, me on my back, her head on my shoulder, talking, drifting to sleep.

In the morning she was up first. I got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, grunting "Great." in reply to her call from the kitchen that breakfast was on. I sat on the loo and looked at the empty shower cubicle and sighed. It was a start.

We made love that night. It started on the sofa, as we watched a film. Ghostbusters. Still a great movie, and each time I see it I think of how she curled against me as we watched it, and how she rested her hand on my crotch as Sigourney Weaver vamped it up. As the credits rolled she brought her head up and said "I have been thinking about what you said. You are right. So tonight I want you to know that I want you. Come to bed."

I let her, made her, tell me what she wanted. She instructed me, rephrasing requests and pleas when I asked her for clear instruction, giving me permission when I asked for it, sometimes denying it, with great daring. I reminded her of times when she had taken the initiative before, I asked her about her desires. It took time, and encouragement, and sometimes a little pressure to make her make choices, but for the first time in weeks she did not call me 'Master', and I felt less like an abuser, more like a boyfriend.

It was good.

We went on like that for weeks. We didn't see Tara and Mike except when going out to a pub or the theatre. We didn't have anyone over for a blue movie, or any other games except Scrabble. We had put it all behind us, and as the days went by Penny became her old self again, the girl I loved.

Easter passed, exams loomed, summer started. We made love at the Giant's Ring again, and in the sand dunes at Murlough Bay.

We made love often. Sweet and soft, roisterous and wild, sharing, friendly, comforting and uplifting.

I thought it was great. I thought I had got her back , the girl I fell in love with, a girl who could be my equal at my side. A girl I could marry.

And then we went to a party.

Tara was now seven months pregnant, and it really showed. She had been small, slim and and busty. Now she was short, round, and looked like a nuclear missile silo. Her breasts were huge. I was scared to think what she would be like in another two months. But it was her birthday, so despite her inability to drink, smoke and dance, she was throwing a bash. It was a riot.

I hadn't been to a party like it before, even at Mike and Tara's. There had been legendary parties when I was at school, when drink and dope and a hundred horny teenagers had been combined, and sometimes sex in secret corners had been rumoured, but this event was populated by twenty some-things who were on the pill and had just been through exams, along with muso's, bikers, punks, Eco-warriors, hippies, swingers and wiccans.

By two in the morning all the straights and normals had fallen away, and Mike's house was full of dope smoke, Cocteau Twins and naked bodies.

I wasn't sure where Penny was. I had been distracted by Naimh and Lucy, dancing and stripping each other and making love in the music room, while I simply stared and let the music flow through my incredibly long body. I girl I half knew, Barbara something, had tried to give me a blow job, but she had been swept away by a guy with green hair and fucked on the carpet beside the girls. It was all quite wonderful.

Then Tara appeared. She was naked, apart from a green silk scarf, and high heels. She had been in the front lounge with and a dozen hippy Eco- freaks and a bunch of women of various ages who called themselves white witches. There had been chanting, lots of smoke and few clothes, and it was descending from a celebration of the Moon Goddess into something far more earthly.

She giggled, richly as she climbed onto me, taking my face in her hands and looking into my bus-shelter sized pupils. "Hey, Sean, how you doing?"

"Fine."

"I bet you are! I wondered where you had got to. I saw Penny heading upstairs. She seemed kind of busy, so I thought I would see what you were doing."

She kissed me. Her naked pussy was against my bare cock, and her belly and breasts were hot against my body. I couldn't help reaching to lift and hold her swollen tits. The nipples were a dark maroon, and huge. Her belly had the start of the dark line running down it that marked her advanced state. She moaned a little in my mouth. "You can fuck me if you want, Sean. Only you and Mike and Alan."

Tara squirmed and pressed against my cock, and despite the dope I got hard. She reached for me and held me up, and dropped onto me, spearing herself, leaning back so her bulge wouldn't stop her taking me deep.

It was the first time I had been with another girl in months. It was the first time I had ever had a girl so heavily pregnant. It was one of the most surreal moments of my life.

The child inside her could have been mine. That thought overpowered me. The veins beneath her skin, the translucence of her flesh, the heat of her, the softness and the smell of her breasts, all spoke of motherhood and comfort and delicacy and vulnerability. The clutching of her hips and mouth and pussy and hands, the power of her hips as she thrust down on me, the depth of her grunts and gasps as she rode me, all testified to the wildness and passion of the woman.

If I hadn't been stoned I think I would have been scared to do it, in case I hurt her or the child. As it was I became entranced by her, amazed, caught up in her body and her need. She came, and cried out, and I sucked on her swollen teats and thrust deep into her, rolled her over on the floor and threw her legs up. I thrust hard as she pulled on my arms and gasped and writhed, her incredible breasts bouncing and shaking as I pushed deep. She came again while I kept pounding her. I was lost in the sensation, her tightness and softness, her heat. I came, an endless outpouring of my chemically stretched mind and body. It went in for years, my energy and joy flowing out of me but filling me.

I think I passed out from lack of oxygen. I had forgotten to breathe.

She was stroking my face when I came back to reality. She was smiling. "Hi there. You know if I wasn't used to Alan doing that I would have been scared there. You okay?"

"Better than okay." I said, and kissed her. As she pulled back for air I said "I love you." I meant it. I was surprised. So was she. But she smiled and said it back.

We looked at each other for a while, not speaking, my hand was on her distended tummy. Maybe it was mine. Did that matter? Not then.

"Let's go find Penny," she said, and helped me to sit up.