Messy Ch. 17

Author's note:

In this chapter we draw together some of the story threads alluded to in previous chapters, so I must give warning to readers - there is a description of years-past violent trauma. If you're just here for the sex, skip over that and keep reading further down, there's far more BDSM-flavored fun in this chapter than the last.

*****

"Dammit, I don't know!"

"No need to get angry, I was just wondering if you'd found anywhere yet." Deirdre had called me up after dinner, wondering if I'd yet found a place for us to practice. I'd gotten home from practice myself, showered and made dinner for Tori and I, and gotten this phone call as I was finishing up the dishes.

Tori was now, predictably, curled up in the spare bedroom, either asleep or glaring a hole in the wall.

"Could we practice in your living room?"

She snorted. "My house is a mess and my living room is tiny. What about you?"

"Yeah, not big enough for combat sports."

I could hear the gears turning in her brain through the phone. "You have a basement, an attic that would work?"

"Ha. Basement is full of wood and carpentry stuff."

"Attic? You have a spare bedroom we could use maybe?"

I thought for a minute. The padded, soundproof attic would be perfect for fight training, but Tori's stuff was still up there. Yeah, I could move it to give us space, but Deirdre would get to see the kinky part of me. Hell, my boss already knew about my sex life, why not?

"Actually, the attic would be perfect...but, I've got to warn you first."

"Anything but bats," she said hurriedly.

I laughed. "It's finished, I promise. It's just that..." How to explain this...

"What?"

"Hmmm... How do I say this... My neighbor shares the attic with me, we live in a row of townhouses, and she uses the attic for storing furniture she makes."

"Ok. Is there enough room?"

"Oh yeah, it's not that. It's just... It's sex furniture."

Silence.

Finally, Deirdre spoke again, her voice odd. "Well. That's different."

"If you don't want to practice up there, that's fine. I wouldn't want to if I didn't know her. If you do still want to practice, I'll just go up and shove it all up against the walls on her side, no big deal."

Deirdre laughed. "Fuck, that's weird."

"That's my life these days. Take it or leave it."

"That's fine. Where do you live?"

I told her my address and hung up, then headed for Tori's room. She was sitting on the bed, watching TV with a soulless look in her eyes.

"Hey neighbor," I said brightly. "Got a minute?"

She wrenched her head towards me, away from a scene of a construction crew tearing apart a house while a voiceover discussed some interpersonal drama. "'sup?"

"Would you mind hanging out at your place for a while? I'm having company over."

Tori shrugged. "Sure, if you hook up the cable."

"Will do."

She rose and pushed past me on her way out the door, and I went downstairs to hook up the cable to her apartment. My heart broke seeing her like this. She'd always been strong, happy, invulnerable, unbreakable, iron will and deadly skills. Now she was a shell. She wasn't even taking care of her body anymore - noticeably gaining weight and losing muscle, even her hair losing its glossy shine.

And I couldn't help her. All I could do was watch.

I gritted my teeth and growled as I shoved piles of wood aside to get to the cable box, swore and strained to push the heavy furniture around in the attic, and by the time my doorbell rang I'd worked myself into a fairly hyped up state, anxious to start burning some physical and emotional energy, practicing the violent skills I was learning.

Deirdre peeked into my apartment, looked around before stepping in. "What, no gimps? No orgies? Where are the slave girls?"

"Haha, very funny."

She slugged me in the arm. "I'm just busting your balls. In reality, thank you. It feels like there's way too long between classes, I feel like I'm learning just to lose it."

"Happy to help, I gotta admit I'm obsessed with practicing these days."

"It is fun, isn't it? Where's your bathroom, I'd like to change."

I pointed her to the bathroom, and watched as she walked to it and shut the door. A lately-uncharacteristic appreciation bloomed in my brain as I watched her jeans-clad ass twitch and her long red hair sway from side to side on her way to the bathroom.

Pretty girl.

"I thought you said there wasn't a Misses Galloway, there's a woman's razor on the counter." Deirdre exited the bathroom dressed in rash-guards, compression shirt, and athletic shorts, hair tied back.

"Houseguest. Bunking in the spare bedroom for a while. She's not here right now though. Definitely no misses Galloway."

We headed upstairs and I paused at the door to the attic. "I'm gonna apologize in advance if this offends you."

The redhead snickered. "I'm not a prude, Gary."

"Ok."

"Fuck me..." Deirdre breathed when she saw the furniture piled up on Tori's side of the large attic. Even collapsed, folded up, stacked together when possible, there was no mistaking the assemblies of wood, metal, and leather for anything other than their intended purpose.

"I mean...if you want..." I teased, and she shot a sidekick at me that I easily dodged.

"I feel like its all watching me," she said as she dug her gloves and mouth guard out of her duffel.

"Ignore it and hit me. If you can."

We sparred for a while, warming up by perfecting our punches and kicks, me giving the smaller woman pointers on how to make every impact more effective. I'd only been at this two months or so, but I'd spent every spare hour at the dojo, two to four hours every day, I'd been working out besides, and I simply took to it better than she did.

After warming up, we moved on to submissions, the very satisfying - if technically challenging - finishing moves that disabled an opponent. First practicing them, chokes and joint locks, until she'd accustomed herself to the bodily motions necessary, and then practicing flowing into those submissions from various positions, guard, mount, side, a little bit of tackling.

I felt myself getting more and more agitated as the minutes wore on. While this was good practice, she just didn't get it. It was like wrestling with a semi-sentient rag-doll, one that did little more than put up a struggle and burning muscle resistance as we scrabbled across the thickly padded floor. It was like she couldn't learn, or didn't want to.

Hell, maybe I should just tell her she wasn't very good. But then, I wasn't very good either, not in the grand scheme of things.

I was self-aware enough to realize my frustration was with myself, with the circumstances I found myself in. and it was also with the rising realization that I was enjoying this. The wrestling and tackling and punching I could do with or without, but the physicality, the feeling of a female body against mine, using muscle and energy against her, the sound of her breathing, the sounds of impact, the scent of her...

Dammit.

I was, weirdly, getting turned on. And that pissed me the fuck off.

"You ever think about just shooting someone, or stabbing them instead of wrestling them?" I asked when we stopped for water next.

"Yeah. Can't always count on that though." Deirdre gulped from a Nalgene and then jammed her mouth guard back in. "Again?"

"Go."

She advanced at me in a wrestler's half crouch, springing forward to plant a shoulder into my gut, hands wrenching at my knees, trying to tip me over. It was like a flea trying to tip over a dog. But I let myself fall anyway, bringing my legs up around her waist in guard. She collapsed to my chest, pulling her arms in so I couldn't exploit a joint lock. For a moment we struggled, body to body, and then she exploded upright, getting her feet under her and attempting to push down my wrapped legs.

I let her make the attempt, and then grabbed one arm, shifting my knee up to her shoulder, catching my calf with my other knee, pulling her down into a strangling clench. She waled away at my sides with her padded fists, fighting the decreasing oxygen in her lungs as she tried to fight free. Her pale skin reddened and anger and panic flashed across her face. With a last burst of strength, she forced herself to her feet, lifting me bodily off the ground, and then collapsing, letting us both drop, sandwiching me between her and the floor.

That broke her free from my choke, but it was a simple matter to swing one leg over and force her to her back with her arm outstretched. I arched my hips up and Deirdre's hand swatted my leg frantically. I released her and she rolled away, offering me a hand once she'd risen. "Shit this is hard."

She pulled out her mouth guard and sucked down water, and I stomped over to my bag and did the same. I was pissed at myself for the way I was feeling, for the wholly inappropriate way I was enjoying myself, inappropriate to be enjoying this contact with her, after a tragedy. More pissed at myself for allowing myself to even feel such things apart from Tori and Sienna... and Jessie.

Deirdre watched me with a weird look from across the attic. "You alright?"

"Push fucking play already!" I motioned her towards me, hoping this time she'd bring an A game. Or even a B or C game. I wanted to get hurt.

It wasn't to be. She advanced with a flurry of strikes that I swatted away easily, and I caught the kick that she fired into my side. I trapped it under my arm, rocking her knee with one hand. She kept balance, so I hooked the back of her leg with one of mine and toppled her. I landed heavily on top, and there was a long delay between her opening her legs beneath me and them wrapping around my waist for a guard position. In keeping with our practice, I threw mock punches at her head, and she pulled me down to her chest by my neck.

I pushed powerfully back as I held her by her hips, breaking the guard and sliding heavily across her chest to pin her from the side. We lay there panting for a moment, just trying to get our breathing back.

Deirdre made eye contact and shifted on the floor, not to gain better position, but to get more comfortable. The look on her face was soft, expectant, and I leaned over, my lips millimeters from hers. I was so angry at myself I couldn't think straight, and so turned on I didn't care.

The redhead beneath me didn't pull away, didn't flinch, didn't complain, she just opened her mouth. I kissed her softly at first, then harder. She squirmed into closer contact, her tongue fluttering against mine, moaning as my grip on her and the pressure of my lips against hers tightened.

We broke for air and she moved, I let her roll me to my back and sit astride me. Hands on my chest, she looked down hungrily at me as she ground her pelvis against mine, slowly back and forth, an unmistakable rhythm.

"Bedroom, shower first, or right here?" I asked.

"Right here."

There was a mad scramble to get our shoes and shirts off, and her breasts - once freed from her tight shirt and their sports bra - were as nice as I'd imagined, heavy handfuls capped with puffy pink nipples that were so sensitive her eyes rolled back when I sat forward to suck on them, teasing them into wet, diamond-hard nubs. "Ohhhh shit that feels great," she said breathily, before pushing me to my back and kissing her way down my chest to the waistband of my shorts. "I can't wait to see this dick..."

She took down my shorts and undershorts slowly, groaning to herself when my erection sprang free and slapped down against my abdomen.

"You really don't want to do that, I'm all sweaty," I warned when she brought her lips to the head.

"I don't give a fuck I'm so turned on."

I watched as she licked around the engorged purple head, dragged the tip of her tongue all the way down to my balls, then back up, and finally taking me in her mouth sucking ferociously at the head while pumping my shaft with one hand. The other hand was fumbling around by her waist, pushing her shorts off, and I got a quick glimpse of pale skin before she settled back down between my legs to suck.

The sensation was fantastic - actually being turned on while being so perfectly serviced was a feeling I hadn't in a while. I thrust my hips up as much as I could with her gripping my prick, masturbating myself with her hand and the wet suction of her mouth.

Deirdre raised her head, looked at me with lust filled eyes as she continued to pump. "You know if there are condoms in this dungeon?"

"I'll grab them." I rose quickly, stripping off the rest of my clothing and crossing to the dresser. The cool air took away some of my need to cum, and I rolled the rubber down, thankful that it would deaden some sensation. I was so amped up right now, and the sight of the naked redhead sprawled on the floor, rubbing slow circles on her pubic mound was driving me crazy. I stood over her for a moment, watching her masturbate. She had a pale, lean body, a little more fat and muscle than Jessie, the healthy look of someone who spends time in the gym. With shorter black hair she'd probably pass as the Goth girl's sister.

I knelt, rubbed my rubber-clad dick against her soaking wet slit, over her short red bush, teasingly dipping it in between her dripping, engorged lips and then drawing it out to rub against her clit some more. Deirdre writhed on the floor as I played with her, and then her eyes went wide and she ground her head back into the floor with a gasp as I lifted her legs by the knees, opening her thighs further and pushing into her. She was tight but slick, and I took a moment to enjoy not only the feeling of her pussy gripping me as I slowly thrust, but the view of her labia stretched wide apart by my dick.

I let her legs fall to my sides and lowered myself to her body, holding myself just slightly above, kissing her cheek and neck, one hand squeezing and rubbing at one of those fantastic breasts. She moaned and bucked her hips at me, taking me deeper inside, and I picked up the pace. Our bodies pressed together, Deirdre clasped her legs together high up my back, locking me to her while grabbing my ass with one hand, tugging me into her harder with each thrust, her other hand worked between us, furiously strumming her clit as I hammered away.

"Fuck that's good," she groaned when we broke our kiss. "So close, so close..." Her soaking wet tunnel constricted around me, and her legs did the same as she climaxed, and with her whole body gripping me tightly I changed my thrusts from balls-slapping-ass speed to deep, gentle rocking that made her cry out again and again.

The contractions slowed and then ceased and Deirdre let her head fall back to the floor from where it had been pressed into the crook of my shoulder. She licked her lips and looked hungrily down between our bodies to the slight view of my groin pressing against hers and the brief glimpse of cock as I pulled away, disappearing again as we moved together.

"You're better at this than the other kind of wrestling," I joked.

She sighed contentedly, and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations. Her skin was flushed deep red, her nipples standing rock hard, and her red hair was a mess on the floor, the tie she'd had in it coming undone some time earlier.

"This has ended a pretty long dry spell for me. I needed this. And I think you did too."

I shut her up with a kiss. No need to talk about that. She pushed me away after a moment. "Mind if I get on top?"

I grinned. "Yeah, I do." And then I picked up the pace, driving into her hard and fast. Deirdre laughed and gripped me tighter, and I reveled in the feeling of a solid feminine body against me, the wet slapping noise of our fucking, the way she clung to me. I reached down and cupped one asscheek, pulling her further down onto me, brushing her backdoor with one finger. She didn't protest, and I gently pushed through that constriction, prompting a shriek and a giggle from the redhead as I stimulated the second most sensitive part of her body. I thrust deep and deliberately into her and those gasps turned into cries of pleasure and just when her quivering, flushed body seemed poised to go over the edge again, I pulled out and pulled away.

Deirdre whined and quirked a finger at me, motioning me back, and I flipped her over by her hips. She laughed loudly as I manhandled her into position, rutting against her ass-cleavage for a moment before notching my prick in between her delicate wet lips and filling her again.

It was nice, SATISFYING to just FUCK again. To let my aggression out and enjoy the results. I left red handprints on her ass from slapping it, pushed her upper body roughly down onto the soft floor, reached down to spread her legs wider, brought her to two more shaking, shrieking orgasms from the grind of her tits on the carpet and the motion of my cock sawing in and out of her snatch before my need to cum boiled over. I pulled out of the writhing redhead below me and ripped the condom off, pumping myself a few times while aiming over the expanse of pale skin before me. Ropes of white shot from my cockhead, landing in streaks on her heaving back, three, four thick ribbons, the last droplets falling to spatter the small upturned bottom below me.

We both slumped to the soft floor, breathing heavily.

"Well, that was unexpected," Deirdre said. "I really thought you were gay."

I chuckled. "Why?"

She reached out and squeezed one bicep. "Hot, single, and apparently not looking for women."

"I'm glad I could prove you wrong like this."

"Me too."

We lay there sucking in air for a while, relaxing after our exertions. "I've gotta confess," I told her finally, "This stuff isn't just my neighbor's. Yeah, she builds it, but I've gotten to use it on occasion."

Deirdre shifted on the floor, obviously aroused. " I've got a confession too then... It was hard trying to hide how turned on I was seeing all that stuff..."

I raised an eyebrow. "Tell me more."

"In the shower."

We made out under the spray of hot water, and it felt renewing. I was Gary Galloway again, no cares, no worries, just my libido and a willing woman. Deirdre sighed and wiped water from her eyes when I gently pushed her back against the tile. "So tell me why seeing all that...equipment...turned you on."

She shrugged, managed to make even that movement erotic. "'cuz I'm kinky?"

"You are?"

A vigorous nod. "Oh yeah."

"Define kinky."

She thought for a moment. "I like to be watched. Or at least have sex where there's a risk of people seeing me. I like to be...seen? I loved the way you pulled my legs up and apart, that feels so...open. Exposed."

"Interesting. So you're an exhibitionist?"

"Not...exactly, but I kinda want to be. I get turned on by the thought, talking about it, fantasizing about it, but the closest I've come to what I want is having sex on a hotel balcony like thirty-five stories up."

I leaned in and kissed her, lowered my head so I could tease my tongue across her collarbone and sensitive neck. "And what do you want? What's your favorite fantasy?"

Deirdre's hand moved between us to massage my dick with long, slow strokes. "Ohhhh... I want to...I want to go to a fancy restaurant in a really low cut, revealing dress that my date picked out for me, and talk about all the filthy, degrading ways he's going to fuck me when we get home. And I get so turned on, so wet, that I get out of my chair and crawl to my date, kneel in front of him and pull his cock out of his pants and suck it, right there in the restaurant. And everybody around is watching me go down, and I can hear them talking about what a whore I am..."

She'd had her eyes closed while she was telling me her fantasy, and when she opened them, she looked away and blushed deeply. "Stupid huh? Not only totally illegal, but a terrible idea because of my, uh, my..."