Offside Offense

"Fuck me, your mouth is fan-fucking-tastic," said Marq, between groans. Jemma gave him a teasing wink and sucked harder, bobbing her head faster. She wanted him to think about this every time another woman was between his legs. More than that—she wanted him to compare all his other partners to her and for them to be found wanting.

She made sure her lips were tightly sealed around his cock and sucked hard as she pulled away from him, her tongue flat against the underside of his shaft as she slowly drew away from him, finally coming free with a *pop*. Her hands didn't stop as she looked him in the eye. "You like this, big boy?" she asked, taunting him. "You like getting your fat dick sucked by a pretty lady?" Marq just groaned. Jemma smiled victoriously and said, "I'm going to put every other woman to shame. I hope you're ready—this was all warm-up." Her tone was confident, even cocky, but it was well-earned.

Jemma took a deep breath, opened her mouth wide, and took him into her mouth. But this time, when his head hit the back of her mouth, she pressed her tongue flat and swallowed, suppressing her gag reflex and letting the head slip into her throat. Her eyes stayed open, and she looked up at Marq with a cocksure gleam in her eyes as she took him deeper and deeper.

Marq let out a long, low moan. "Fuuuuck me, no one's ever been able to do that to me before." It was all he could do to let her work instead of trying to take over. Unconsciously, he started to shift in his seat on the couch, his hips rising and falling as the pleasure mounted. She didn't seem to mind; in fact she swallowed up more and more of his rod, only stopping when just a hand's breadth of his tool remained outside her mouth.

That was all she could manage, but Marq was more than impressed. "Holy fuck..." he said, as Jemma started to pump her head up and down, keeping him in her throat until her face started to go red, then pulling off him long enough for a deep breath and then plunging back down. When her tongue ran over his head, she tasted the precum that was steadily flowing from him. One hand cupped his sack, playing with his balls, rolling them around in her palm and feeling them start to tighten.

Jemma was impressed too—not only was Marq big, he could control himself. He'd managed to keep from cumming even though she was bringing her A game, and he wasn't gagging her or forcing her down despite his obvious lust. But now it was time to go in for the kill. On the upstroke, she paused, breathing in deep through her nose and getting herself under control, stroking Marq with one hand and gently kneading his balls to keep him on the edge. She looked up at him; his eyes were closed, his head back. His arms were at his sides and his hands up slightly, fingers curling and uncurling as if he desperately wanted to grab hold of her head and force her down.

Once she was ready, she held her breath and opened her throat one last time. Moving slowly, she swallowed him up, her lips crawling down his shaft. Her hands stroked him as she descended, shorter and shorter strokes as inch after inch disappeared past her lips. Within a few moments there wasn't enough room for both hands, so one went back to his balls. Soon enough her other hand joined the first, gently squeezing, her warm hands on him, willing him to cum.

Her lips crept down and down, and he bit his lip, holding back as long as he could before, with an explosive wordless cry he came. Jemma felt the first shots deep in her throat as his cock swelled and throbbed, before she pulled back and took the rest in her mouth. Her hands and tongue never stopped moving, drawing out his climax as long as she could until her mouth was full of his creamy load. When his cock stopped erupting she raised her head, kissing the tip of his dick before opening up and showing him the mouthful of cum she'd saved. And then she closed her mouth and, with a devious smirk, made a show of swallowing down every drop.

Jemma smacked her lips once she was done, like she'd just enjoyed a delicious meal. Marq shook his head in awe, not entirely believing what had just happened to him. Then she hopped to her feet and said, "All right, stud—you got what you wanted. I'm drunk and horny, but I'm not going to fuck you, so you can put that big thing away and go." Marq was a bit stunned by the sudden reversal. He pulled up his pants and stood. Jemma looked meaningfully at the door and waved goodbye, looking at him and daring him to object.

Marq took the dare. He faced her down and said, "I got some of what I wanted. You give great head, but it's not fair for me to go without returning the favor." He grabbed her waist and Jemma yelped as he suddenly turned, putting her between him and the couch. "Sit your fine ass down and hike up your dress. It's my turn."

Jemma was conflicted—she hadn't been lying when she said she was horny. Marq was looking at her like a lion about to devour its prey, and some part of her wanted to let him do it. But she'd already gone further tonight than she expected, and she was worried that things wouldn't end there. Marq, though, seemed to be reading her mind. "Come on, pretty lady. Let me do my thing and then I'll go. I promise. It's not like we're going to fuck—I'm just going to eat your pretty pussy and make you cum."

She bit her lip, considering, weighing her options, and before long her lust won out. "All right," she said, reaching down and pulling up her dress, leaving it as a coil of cloth around her waist. She said, severely, "But this is it. Once I tell you we're done, we're done." Marq smiled and replied by hooking his thumbs under her panties and dropping to one knee, taking the black thong down with him. She didn't even have time to sit on the couch before he was delving between her legs.

Marq's strong hands cupped her ass, fingers digging in just a bit, holding her in place. He came up from underneath her, and Jemma wound up on the balls of her feet, her weight bearing down on him and pressing his face hard into her. This was what Marq wanted, and he took advantage of it, letting her perch precariously on him as he ate her cunt like a starving man.

Even before he'd started, Jemma had been turned on; she'd planned to kick Marq out and then fuck herself silly. Marq's aggressive actions sent a thrill through her. And now, with the feeling of his tongue worming its way into her, his strong hands keeping her in place, she was almost overwhelmed. She grabbed at her chest, caressing herself, tweaking her nipples and squeezing her breasts.

"Fuck," she breathed. "You don't play around." Marq wasn't really in a position to answer her, but she glanced down and saw the confident, victorious look in his eyes, and that was reply enough. His tongue wormed its way into her, parting her lower lips. Jemma found herself trying to get lower, so that he could go deeper; the muscle currently working its way into her cunny simply wasn't enough.

That's when Jemma knew that she was going to let Marq fuck her. She could try to resist, and she probably would—it was part of the fun. But if he pressed her for more she was going to yield. He was just so impressive, so dominating, so masculine. It had manifested itself on the pitch earlier, when Marq had put Dan in the hospital. It had been an accident, or so Marq said, but whatever it was it now seemed like a primal and instinctive way of expressing his superiority. And in the bar, when he'd made it clear that he wanted her but wouldn't put up with her shit to get her, that too had been an expression of his power and confidence.

Any further thoughts along these lines were cut off when Marq shifted slightly, and his tongue found her button and started making tight, rapid circles around it. All the skill and passion he'd demonstrated earlier, when they'd kissed, was on display here as well. Before long Jemma felt her legs shaking and her knees growing weak. "God damn it," she said, quietly. "You fucker. Asshole. Make me cum, you fucking jerk."

Marq grabbed her ass, holding her up, and went at her with the same single-minded intensity he'd displayed in the club. Then, he'd been focused on her, almost entirely, ignoring everything else in the place until she succumbed. Now, it was much the same. But his goal then had been to seduce her, and that was accomplished. His goal now was to cement his victory by making her cum. And he did just that.

Jemma held off the inevitable as long as she could. And then, when her resistance crumbled, she came. With a wordless cry, Jemma exploded, whipping her hair from side to side. Her body moved, a roll of the hips that traveled up her back in a single sinuous motion as a wave of pleasure broke over her. Then she let loose with a torrent of profanity, matching the way her juices gushed from her pussy. "You god-damned bastard! Fucking ass! Eat my pussy you dickhead! Oh my god oh my god oh god oh fuck!"

When it was done, she almost collapsed, but Marq was still there, supporting her and laying her down gently on the couch. Her eyes were closed. She twitched as she slowly regained control of her body. And when she opened her eyes, she saw Marq, standing over her and looking down with a look on his face that spoke of triumphant confidence. She'd seen that look before, when Marq had put Dan down.

But there was one major difference between that time and the present. The first time she'd seen that look, Marq hadn't been naked. Jemma scrambled back on the couch, back into a sitting position. "Hold your horses there, big guy," she said. "No sex, remember? Hell, I shouldn't have had you in here at all."

Marq took a step closer to her. His cock had regained its steel while he'd been eating her out, and it bobbed in the air as he moved. Jemma found her eyes tracking its motion; she shook her head to clear it, then turned her glare back on Marq. It had no more effect on him now than it had earlier in the evening. "You're not gonna make me leave," he said, confidently.

"Oh? Why not?" Jemma challenged.

"Because you're still fucking horny, and you need some dick," he replied, matter-of-factly. It was hard to deny; she'd cum once tonight, but she needed more. If Marq had left she'd have made her way to her bedroom, pulled out one of her toys, and fucked herself silly. And—while it made her feel guilty to admit it, even to herself—she wouldn't have been thinking of Dan while she did it.

"You're pretty fucking cocky," she said. "Most guys would be happy with a blowjob... especially from me."

Marq grinned and grabbed the base of his cock, squeezing gently. "Cocky, huh? Guess I know what you're thinking about?" He moved even closer to her, and the end of his cock wound up only inches away from her face. "You want me to go, I'll go. But you'll be kicking yourself thinking about the missed opportunity."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. No one saw us leave the bar. No one saw us come up here, except the fucking cabbie. You know Dan's not going to show up. This is your chance to try out some new dick, no consequences, no chance of being found out." His voice got a shade lower and rougher. "You can spend tonight having great sex or you can go play with your battery-powered boyfriend. It's your call."

A more sober and less horny Jemma might not have been swayed by Marq's little speech, but as it was Jemma found herself convinced. After all, she rationalized, I've already cheated. I might as well go for it, and it's not like anyone will ever know but us.

She pointed an accusatory finger at him and narrowed her eyes. "You planned this, didn't you, you fucker," she said. Marq shrugged and grinned shamelessly. "Here are the new rules: you never breathe a word of this to anyone. After tonight, you barely know me. You can nod hello from across the street, but that's it. Got it?"

Marq seemed unimpressed by her bluster. No surprise, really; he'd casually disregarded all the other times she'd tried to set rules, and Jemma knew, or at least suspected, that he'd keep doing so until there were repercussions. But some part of her also knew that there would be no penalty for his rule-breaking. He hadn't suffered any real consequences after putting Dan in the hospital; hell, he was about to fuck his victim's girlfriend. Some people just skated through life, and Marq seemed to be one of them.

Right now, though, that wasn't Jemma's concern. She was much more interested in the way Marq looked as he stood there, naked as the day he was born. The tattoos on his muscular arms went up to his shoulders and upper back, the ink-black tribal patterns a bit hard to see against his dark skin. His body showed the results of long hours at the gym. And of course, between his legs, there hung a piece of meat that (she hated to admit it) was substantially more impressive than what Dan was packing. She found herself watching it as Marq moved closer, tracking every bob and bounce with her eyes and spreading her legs unconsciously as he drew near.

As he approached she found herself leaning back on the couch. Marq slipped between her spread legs, but before he could enter her—and it was clear that was his goal—she put a hand on his chest and stopped him. "No," she said. "Not here."

Marq leaned against her hand, and while he could have overpowered her he did not. "Why not here, pretty lady?" he asked. "Not comfy on that couch?"

Jemma rolled her eyes. "No, asshole. I want to fuck somewhere where I can change the sheets afterwards. No one, absolutely no one, can know about this, so we're not getting anything on the fucking couch."

With a sweep of his arm, Marq brushed her hand aside. She yelped, as he scooped her up and lifted her bodily off the couch. He tossed her over his shoulder and rose. "Let me down, asshole," she said, flailing her legs and slapping his back. Marq didn't seem to notice; he just turned, looking for the bedroom.

Marq swatted her ass, making Jemma yelp again and cutting off her protests. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but he was quicker. "Which way to the bed?" he asked.

Jemma slapped him on the back, as hard as she could, hard enough to make her palm sting. If he felt it, though, he didn't react. Grumbling, she muttered, "Down the hall on the left." Marq nodded and set off, carrying her over one shoulder. She kept berating him as they went. "You think you're impressive? Big, strong, man, manhandling the little woman? It's pathetic." He reached the bedroom door and nudged it open. "This caveman act might impress the dumb sluts you pick up at the bar, but it doOOOOF!" Mid-word, he threw her down on the bed. She landed heavily, bouncing back up for a moment, limbs flailing.

Before she could get herself together again, Marq was on her. He moved smoothly, sliding into the bed with her, his hips forcing her legs apart. Marq pinned her to the bed by her shoulders. His face was inches from hers, and he was grinning. "This better, pretty lady?" he asked in a faintly mocking tone.

She scowled at him, and answered, "Just fuck me, asshole—and if you don't get me off I'll make you regret it." The threat was empty, in more ways than one. She have no idea how she was going to make him pay if he didn't make her cum, and what's more the way he'd manhandled her, tossed her around like a toy... it had sent a thrill through her. Dan was a fantastic lay, but he never treated her like this, and something about the way Marq just took what he wanted made Jemma yearn for more.

Marq's cock was resting on her stomach, trapped between their bodies. It was hot to the touch, and seemed even harder than it had been before, when she'd been sucking him off. She squirmed, wriggling under Marq, wanting to feel the thick piece of meat inside her and not just against her. But Marq teased her, denying her prize—all she accomplished was shifting her hips enough to grind her cunt against the underside of his shaft. And that, in turn, just stoked her fires, making her ever more eager to feel him inside her, splitting her open, making her cry out. Jemma let out a small, needy, frustrated whine at feeling his hot, thick, black pole, so close to its natural resting place but not inside it.

Marq was quick to take advantage of her frustration. He slowly ground himself against her, and as he did, he asked, tauntingly, "What's wrong, pretty lady?"

Jemma tried to ignore him, but it didn't work out. In the space of a few heartbeats she gave in. "Stop teasing me," she said. "Put it the fuck in and fuck me, asshole!"

With a knowing smile on his face, he reached down and grabbed his cock. Marq slapped it against Jemma's cunt a few times for good measure—her hips jerked involuntarily each time he made contact with her tender flesh—and then the teasing was done. He drew back his hips, and when he did his cock slid against her slit, until the head was in place, aimed at her core. Then, moving slowly, he eased into her.

Instinctively, she moaned, feeling Marq's black shaft stretching her wide. Some part of her thought guiltily that even though Dan was no slouch when it came to size, Marq was still more impressive, and his cock filled her in a way she'd never felt before. Her face flushed as Marq came to rest deep within her. His hands were on her shoulders, pinning her to the mattress, ensuring that she couldn't leave, even if she had the inclination. Now that he'd started, she realized, Marq meant to fuck her until he was satisfied—whether or not she could take it, whether or not she wanted it.

It was good, then, that right now more than anything what she wanted was to feel Marq use her, to fuck her hard, to display that same aggression and animal savagery he'd shown on the pitch and earlier in the night and to make her a receptacle for his lusts. It was a betrayal, she knew, of a good man, a man she loved—but in the heat of the moment that didn't matter.

Marq did not disappoint. He gave her a few moments to grow accustomed to his length and his girth, moments which were spent looking into her eyes triumphantly. When he thought she was ready he drew back, feeling her cunt clinging tightly to him as if it was reluctant to let him out. Once only the tip he remained in her, he slammed into her, spearing her, impaling her on his black pole, thrusting in hard, hard enough for her to feel throughout her body.

And then he did it again. And again. And again.

"Fuck!" Jemma shrieked. She was torn between wanting to tell him to slow down and wanting to demand that he fuck her even harder. But it was moot; all she could do was unleash a stream of profanity. "You big-dicked mother-fucker! You're gonna fucking break me!" Her words affected Marq like spurs on a horse. He gave a low growl and (my god, how was it possible, she thought) started to fuck her even harder.

Marq felt her cunt rippling around him, convulsing almost continuously, as if she wanted to milk him. But he was far from done. He drove into her a few more times, putting his legs into it, ensuring that she'd felt each powerful thrust. And then, still lodged deep in her, he grabbed her hair and pulled her up, rolling as he did so she wound up on top of him, facing him. She screamed, in pain, in surprise—and in pleasure, and her weight bore down on Marq's shaft and a sudden ecstatic flash burned through her.

For a moment, Jemma thought he wanted her to take control, but that proved to be a mistake. What he wanted, rather, was to show off. His hips bucked, and he took her by the waist, lifting her up before slamming her back down, easily manhandling her as he used her like a living sex toy. The muscles in his arms and chest gleamed in the dim light of the bedroom as he broke a sweat.

Jemma's tits bounced wildly as he hauled her up and down his length. Her hands went to her chest, steadying them, and giving her a chance to cup squeeze her big, firm breasts, to tweak and pinch her nipples. Someone was screaming short staccato screams, and she dimly realized that it was her. Her voice was a bit hoarse, and her cries of pleasure were interrupted by the way Marq's powerful thrusts drove the air from her lungs. She tried to start bouncing in rhythm with him, but his relentless strength simply overpowered her, making her into a true fuck-toy.