The Switch Ch. 03

'Oh God, I'm so sorry,' she apologised, climbing off.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. She still had the faint taste of salt to her. He didn't care. He'd gone down on women mid way through their period before, and he knew he'd do it again.

He looked at her and smirked. 'Told you I'd get you there.'

She leant down to kiss him. He grabbed her face, forcing his tongue into her mouth, making her taste herself. He heard her muffled gasp, and released his grip.

'Lie on your back,' he ordered. 'I'm going to get a condom and fuck you. I want you to hold your legs back, and when I get on top, I want you to rest your legs on my shoulders.'

He was horny as all hell. He rolled over, retrieved a condom from the drawer, than knelt between her legs. She looked good, and she certainly wasn't half as shy as she'd been last weekend. The way she was holding her legs up gave him a good view of her tits and her wet pussy. It was all his, all his to pound until he came.

His cock slid into her warm, dark channel without difficulty. He groaned with pleasure, and began to thrust. He took his time, sliding in and out, watching his length get swallowed up by her, only to be released again as he pulled back.

She covered her face with her forearm, so he couldn't see her expression. The modesty amused him. She'd cum for him. She'd shamelessly face fucked him, forcing him to pleasure her. Why be embarrassed? Why shy away? He obviously liked what he was getting.

'Talk dirty to me,' he ordered.

She shrugged shyly.

'Tell me,' he prodded. 'Tell me what this feels like. Tell me you like it when I fuck that wet hole of yours.'

He waited expectantly for an answer. She didn't give one. He decided she obviously didn't have it in her yet, and kept thrusting.

'I've been waiting for your cock since I walked in the door,' she said suddenly.

Had she? Hmm, that was good. It was nice to feel desired. He thrust into her again, harder this time.

'Do you like it?' he asked. 'Do I turn you on?'

'Hell yes, you do,' she admitted. 'You're the sexiest man I've been with. I don't know why you're with me.'

'Uh-huh,' he reprimanded. 'Not that again. Try again. Tell me something dirty. Tell me how you touch yourself. Do you use a dildo?'

'No. I don't have one. I use my fingers.'

'You were rough when you came. Are you always like that?'

She shook her head. 'No, that's the weed. And you. You made me feel so goddamn good. I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out.'

His breath quickened. He was near orgasm. He imagined her masturbating, sliding her fingers over her wet pussy.

'You're turn,' she said. 'How do you get yourself off?'

'I watch a shitload of porn, and fuck a pillow or cushion. When I'm almost there, I finish off with my hand.'

'I'd love to see that.'

'We'll see what we can do tomorrow,' he grunted, pushing into her. He was picking up pace now, moving quicker and quicker. He knew he was right on the cusp.

'Fuck me,' she whispered. 'Fuck me harder.'

'Oh fuck,' he grunted. 'Aimee, I'm there. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.'

He fucked her as hard as he could, his sweat-slicked skin slapping hers. It felt amazing. It sounded amazing. It was goddamn amazing in every way possible.

When he was done, he rolled off and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He owed Samara big time. Her sixth sense had been right on track when she'd picked Aimee for him.

Aimee leant over and kissed him. He held her face in his hands, and luxuriated in post coital bliss. All of the tension, and all of the anger and frustration he'd felt over the past couple of months, had entirely dissipated. He was perfectly and utterly content with the world.

~~~~

It was three am and they were stoned out of their brains and sharing a chocolate peanut butter brownie, salted caramel sauce and ice-cream concoction he'd whipped up.

They were sitting on the couch watching bad movie after bad movie, only they'd muted the sound and were instead talking to each other about anything and everything. They were still naked. The wood fire worked as well as Val had claimed it did, and the house was warm and cosy.

'One day, I'm going to cover your body with this sauce and lick it off,' Val threatened.

She giggled. 'Right. Until you get sick of salted caramel sauce, your beard is stuck together with toffee, and you send me off to have a shower.'

'That would never happen,' he argued, taking a swig of Baileys and milk. He'd made them each a glass as a nightcap, but that was several drinks ago. 'I have more stamina than that.'

'Didn't you just tell me when you get drunk you can't get an erection?'

'What's that got to do with licking sauce off you?' he asked incredulously. 'At any rate, when I said 'drunk' I mean 'really drunk', not 'after a few drinks'. See?'

He stroked his cock until it was hard again. She laughed at the look of satisfaction on his face. Men and their penises.

She took another bite of dessert. 'So, do you want a blow job?'

'No. I want something that'll scare the shit out of you.'

'Really?' she asked. 'What?'

He shook his head adamantly. 'No. Another time. Some things you need to work your way up to.'

'Are you super kinky?'

'Umm,' he paused. 'Not compared to some of my friends but to you, probably.'

Aimee dug her spoon into the bowl, trying to get a little bit of everything in the one bite-sized serving. 'Okay, so are we talking about fucking animals or small children kinky, or legal kinky?'

'Jesus Christ, I'm talking about legal kinky,' he laughed. 'I'm not that fucked up.'

'Hmm. Well, you're probably right, anyway. You'll have to work your way up to it. I mean, you did give me my first orgasm through oral sex tonight.'

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her head. 'The first of many.'

They turned their attention to their dessert, and his erection subsided. It was getting late, and with each minute, her eyes got a little heavier. She leant into him, and wished the night would never end. She didn't want daylight, and she didn't want reality.

'Are you seeing anyone else?' he asked. 'Any other dates lined up?'

She shook her head. There had been one man, but she'd been gently trying to dissuade him. She liked Val. Even if he unintentionally intimidated her at times, she felt very safe with him. He made her feel special. Attractive.

He could have just taken her to a restaurant tonight, but he'd instead chosen to do all the hard work. He'd thought up a menu, set the table, and cooked for her. Mixed in with what she was beginning to suspect was a good amount of sexual deviancy, was a firm interest in pleasing her.

'Good,' he said. 'Tomorrow, take down your profile. I'll do the same.'

'Okay,' she agreed.

He brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her. 'Come to bed. You look tired.'

'I am, but I don't want to go to sleep.'

'We won't go to sleep. Not yet.'

A few minutes later, they were lying in his bed. She'd wanted to go to the car to get her overnight stuff out, so she could at least wear something to sleep, but he wouldn't hear a word of it. He assured her he'd keep her warm, and he covered her in a warm, thick, doona.

'Your accent gets stronger when you're tired,' she remarked, resting her head on his bicep.

He said something in another language. When he spoke, the accent changed again, to something much, much stronger.

'What did you say?' she asked.

'I said 'I know, and you get more and more beautiful as the night goes on'.' He stroked her exposed breast contentedly. 'Your son's father was South African, correct? So he must have had an accent?'

'No. He came to Australia when he was a baby. He sounded Australian.'

'White or black South African?'

'Coloured. That's not an offensive term, by the way; that's what they call themselves.' She could feel herself automatically tensing. 'Is that a problem for you?'

'No,' he replied, continuing to play with her nipple. 'I was just curious.'

'Okay. Because my son comes first.'

'I would expect nothing less.'

She wriggled uneasily. She hated talking about her son's race just as much as she hated explaining why she was a single mother. So many people had said 'oh, that's okay then' when she'd told them she was widowed, as though losing your husband to a road accident was the only acceptable way to become a single parent. It made her aware they were judging her. It made her wonder what else they were thinking.

Aimee stroked his stomach. He had dark hair all over his chest and stomach, though none on his back or bum. He was definitely into keeping good care of himself.

'Lower,' he said, pushing her hand down to his erection. 'There. Fuck, you feel good.'

'Are you sure you don't want head?'

He nodded. 'Just keep touching it.'

She toyed with his cock playfully, enjoying the soft satiny feel. It had been four or five hours since their interlude, and he was obviously ready for round two. Neither had showered, and they both smelt like sex and weed and alcohol. She knew her hair was messy, and her make-up had probably worn off. She was genuinely surprised he'd still want to get intimate with her.

'Did it hurt, getting this done?' she asked, touching the piercing.

He nodded. 'It wasn't pleasant.'

'Why did you do it?'

'I was young, I was insecure, and I'd heard it can make sex feel better for women.'

'I can't imagine you being insecure,' she commented, rubbing her thumb over the pre-cum that he was leaking. 'You strike me as being incredibly self confident. You're very masculine.'

'Everyone says that. It's not true. Inside, I'm a mess.'

She laughed. 'Right.'

He placed her hand around the shaft and moved it up and down, so that she was masturbating him. Neither spoke for a while, and the only sound was his breathing, which was becoming deeper. His body shifted with each stroke.

'I have depression,' he quickly confessed. 'I've been on antidepressants for nearly half my life.'

She continued to wank him, and he continued to guide her speed and strength. 'So?' she asked. 'At least you're not too proud to admit it.'

Val made a strangled sound, and rolled towards her, all the while keeping her hand on his cock. 'I'm terrified of ending up alone.'

She nodded her agreement. 'Aren't we all?'

He grunted, and thrust into her hands. 'Goddamn. Aimee. Lie on your back.'

She released his cock, and rolled onto her back. He wasn't wasting any time, and he reached into the bedside drawer and removed a tube of lubricant. She had no idea what he was planning on doing with it. Every minute she spent with him made it more and more obvious that she'd led a very sheltered sexual life.

He knelt over her chest, squeezed a good amount of lubricant into is hands, and warmed it. The next thing she knew, he was spreading it between her breasts.

'Hold your tits,' he said, moving her hands to her breasts. 'I'm going to fuck your chest.'

She tried to hide her surprise, but it quickly became evident to him that she had no idea what to expect. He moved his hands over hers, in much the same way he'd done when he was showing her how to stroke him, and pushed her breasts together. He then slid his cock in between then, letting the head drag along her sternum.

She wanted to laugh, because it seemed such a weird thing to do, but it was obviously what he wanted. He pushed his cock between her tits until he was close to climax, then he leant back and started furiously wanking himself.

'Can I cum on you?' he muttered.

'Uh, sure.'

He didn't say anything else. He just pointed his hard-on towards her chest, grabbed a breast with his free hand, and bought himself to orgasm.

She watched his reaction curiously. She saw his eyes roll back, his hips thrust forward, and thick clumps of cum land on her chest. He wasn't quiet when he came, and the sound of his voice made her all too aware that she was wet with longing.

When he was finished, he stretched his back, and ran his hands over his head. 'Sorry,' he apologised. 'That was a bit rude of me.'

'It's fine.'

He touched her hair. 'I've got it in your hair. You'll have to have a shower. Come with me, I'll clean you.'

She followed him meekly to the bathroom. It was the only room in the house that had been renovated, and there was a huge soaking tub and double shower.

Val turned on the water, and when he judged it to be the right temperature, gestured for her to hop in. She stepped under the water and wet her hair. The water was warm, and the bathroom was exceptionally clean. She felt tired but happy.

'I must look like a wreck,' she commented.

Val stepped into the shower and brushed her hair back off her face. 'Nope.'

'Would you tell me if I did?'

'Nope.'

She frowned, and reached for his shampoo. She wished she'd thought to bring her hair dryer. Val's hair was only millimetres long, so he obviously had no need for one, and yet she wasn't keen on going to bed with wet hair.

'So, um, why didn't you just tell me you wanted to fuck my chest while we were in the lounge?' she asked. 'It wouldn't have scared the shit out of me.'

'Because fucking your chest wasn't the sexual act I had in mind.'

'Oh?'

He soaped her hair. 'No. Another time. Are you horny? Do you want oral? A minute alone with the shower head?'

'With the...?'

He removed the shower head from the rail, and moved it to her crotch. He pressed it against her slit, and waited.

The pressure against her clitoris made it swell. Suddenly, Aimee understood. She swallowed hard, and stared at Val in wonder. He acknowledged her reaction with a grin. She shut her eyes, rested her hands on his shoulders, and waited.

'Tell me when you're close,' he murmured.

She bit down on her lip. The sensations were amazing. How had she not though to try this at home? She'd definitely be giving the shower head a workout in future. She stood, eyes closed, letting the water spray bring her nearer and nearer to climax. When she was on the verge of cumming, she finally spoke.

'Getting close,' she admitted.

'Very close?'

'Uh, um, yes,' she stammered. 'Very, very close.'

He took the showerhead away. 'Hmm. Nice. So do you really not do that to yourself?'

She glared at him. She'd been seconds off orgasm. She was ready to fuck. She wanted to cum, goddamn it.

'Look at the expression on your face,' he said reverently, touching her cheek. 'What's going through your head? What do you fantasize about?'

'Val, this is not funny,' she said, grabbing his arm. 'Finish me off. You can't keep teasing me.'

'Why not?'

She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. 'Because I want to cum.'

'What do you fantasize about?'

'I'm not telling you that. You won't tell me what you want, so you don't get to hear what I want.'

He smirked, and reached between her legs. His rough fingers stroked her swollen clit. Without any warning, he moved his fingers to her entrance, and penetrated her. Aimee gasped and ground herself against him.

'What do you want?' he asked.

'Fuck you.'

He arched an eyebrow. 'Angry, are we? This is quite the change from the insecure woman last week, who wouldn't even show me her tits. Funny how we change when we're horny.'

'Fuck you, Val,' she swore, thrusting herself onto his hand. 'Get me there.'

'Or?'

'Or I'll throw you onto the fucking floor and ride you until I cum.'

He pulled his hand out from between her legs and laughed at her. The sound drove her wild. She knew he was mocking her. He liked to tease her. He liked to get her to the stage where she was begging for it.

With a telling smirk, he licked his fingers. She glared at him. Enough was enough.

'Lie down,' she demanded, yanking the showerhead from his hand. 'Lie down on the floor.'

In her lust-clouded mind it seemed to make perfect sense to demand he lie down, and she wasn't half as surprised as she ordinarily would have been when he obeyed. She shoved the shower head back in the holder, straddled him, and roughly kissed him.

He laughed at her. 'So are you going to fuck me, or are we going to kiss?'

'Be quiet,' she said angrily. 'Stop mocking me.'

'I'm not...'

'...Shut-up!' Aimee ordered. 'You kept telling me to be quiet. Well, now I'm tell you to be quiet.'

She shuffled forward, presenting him with her sex. He groaned with pleasure and traced his tongue over her swollen clit. It felt even better than it had earlier in the evening. She'd never been particularly interested in receiving oral sex before. Chris had done it, but she'd been too insecure to enjoy it and Tim had attempted it once, for a remarkably brief period of time, but that had been it.

Tonight was a whole different matter. Valery's enthusiasm for oral sex made her feel less self conscious, and when she'd cum on his face, it had felt incredible. She ran her hands over his shaved head, and began to tilt her hips backwards and forward.

The tiles were hard under her knees, and she knew that physically, she probably didn't look very attractive with wet hair and running mascara, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter. She didn't care what he was thinking. He'd teased her all night, obviously expecting her to put up with everything he did. Well, fuck him. Literally, she was going to fuck him. She might have insecurities, but she was no submissive doll.

The water rained down on them as she fucked him, plastering her hair to her face, but all she could feel was her own, building climax. Suddenly, it was upon her, and she could hear herself screaming out his name as she came and, in the background, the soft sound of his laughter.

She rocked herself against him as wave after wave of exquisite bliss rocked her body. She wanted it to last forever. There was nothing so magical as a powerful climax while you were stoned out of your mind.

'Oh, fuck you,' she swore, as she ground to a halt. 'Fuck you. What the hell did you just make me do?'

He smiled broadly, the happiness and pleasure radiating from his face. 'Nothing. That was always in you.'

She was mortified. All sense of confidence in herself had fled. What had come over her? She'd been wild. She must have terrified him. She hoped off and inspected his neck.

'You're bleeding. I scratched you,' she said.

He felt his neck disinterestedly. 'So you did.'

'Don't you care?' She asked, dumbstruck.

He laughed. 'No. No, Aimee, I don't.'