Games People Play Ch. 01

The residents of No. 52 were either very deaf or very tolerant. So thought Emily of No. 62 as she listened to the rhythmic thuds of her bed as it swung on the larger two of its feet; a sound that was greeted each time with a grunt from the man behind her and the dull sense of pleasure as his cock filled her. Rhythmic was perhaps too generous a term, she mused, as his thrusts quickened and abruptly paused in his frantic quest to keep the bed swinging.

It was often around this stage that she chided herself for thinking of neighbours and rhythms as a man fucked her, but she knew the game well and could keep up her pretence of pleasure even with thoughts resting on such duller topics. Her lips thinned automatically as he attempted to push another fraction of his cock inside her, small gasps escaping her and her back arching her body into a position that made his task easier. "Clank, clank, clank" sounded the bed and this time she began swinging her hips back into him to be rewarded by a loud grunt of satisfaction from behind her; big hands gripping strongly into her sides.

"You need my cock, don't you my little slut?" a voice whispered in her ear, muffled slightly by her long hair which fell messily down the sides of her head. Had she really been listening to him she might have laughed to herself at the futility of the question. Of course she didn't, she could tell herself. No-one needed the man's cock, his cum, or his questions. But subconsciously she replied - "Yes, please - I need to feel your cock deep inside me." Half sated by Emily's recognition of his dominance the man's grip on her weakened; half driven mad with lust by his slut's submission he continued his interrogation. "Yes, my little fuck-bag - you need me to fill your little pussy with my cum, don't you?"

"Please, yes, fill me..."

As if it were an order the man's cock hardened again ever so slightly and with a couple of final pathetic pushes released his final proof of his masculinity inside her. They sighed together as they felt the power he had feigned moments before leave him and she was suddenly woken from her thoughts with a wince as he pulled his cock out of her and flopped down on the bed next to her. The bed gave a final thud. She slowly turned, tucking her legs into her stomach as she did so, and for the first time since they had begun she looked upon him.

She noticed first the heaving chest, glistening with sweat, and the slight wobble of his belly that accompanied it. He wasn't a large man in any respect, perhaps just short of six foot and with little excess fat but he didn't work out enough for his stomach to be firm. He eyes drew upwards to his red face and open mouth which exuded panting sounds as he tried to recover himself, his eyes half closed although she didn't imagine he was able to see anything even if he had held them wide open. Short brown hair covered his head and a week's stubble gave him a messy but not unattractive appearance. Her gaze lowered again, past his body and down to his cock which she had proclaimed to need not two minutes earlier; it hung limply between his legs. It made him look ridiculous - it made them all look ridiculous afterwards. They lay side by side for a while before he took her back in his arms and kissed her. His breath smelt of nothing in particular but neither of anything fresh. His eyes looked lovingly into hers and she rewarded him a soft smile full of the satisfaction he wanted to believe he had given her, and then she rose.

"A drink, perhaps?" she asked. A weak nod and she moved over to a small wooden table in the corner of the room which had various bottles and glasses littered on top of it; she selected a lemon liquor and poured a small quantity into two tumblers before filling them to the brim with some soda water and taking one over to him. He drank greedily as she floated lightly back to the table, picked up her glass and went out the door. She needed to be out of the room where she could be to herself - she also needed to clean herself up and so made her way to the bathroom where she did the best she could not looking in the mirror. She picked up a sponge and ran some cold water over it, then used it to wipe the sweat from her firm round breasts. She could still see the small tortured patches of skin which had been pinched by her bra having by mistake picked up a few whose band size was 30, one smaller than she could comfortably wear, on account of having found them on sale at her local budget clothes shop in a bin labelled "Everyday Value Lingerie - C Cups". Maybe if she spent a little more on her wardrobe she wouldn't keep running into these problems.

She enjoyed the feeling of the water droplets dripping down her flat stomach and flicked a few more drops from her breast to join them, watching them on their winding path down to her vagina, past the thin white strip of skin protected from the sun by her bikini and disappearing behind her thighs - she had arrived in the bathroom in good time she realised as she noticed cum just starting to drip out of her. She pulled her neat lips apart to reveal the soft pink flesh underneath, and with a combination of scrubbing with her fingers and wiping with the sponge removed the warm white liquid. Her legs were a little thinner than usual, she remarked to herself, they were normally toned with the muscles she used when horse-riding but had waned slightly from inactivity. She sighed again and wrung the sponge in the sink before donning a thin bath gown and returning to the small living area of her flat where she reunited with her cocktail and took a refreshing sip. She fell into an arm chair, suddenly feeling her fatigue, and before closing her eyes remembered only hearing the soft "clink, clink, clink" of her glass as it settled itself on the side table next to her.