Trivial Pursuits Ch. 19

She whimpered at the thought of what was to come, but focused her mind, as she did so many times on her runs. Denny heard the deep and calming breath she took, and then began circling the pads of his fingers around the turgid little nubbin at the crux of her sex. It didn't take long for the rhythm of her breath to speed up, for soft moans to fall from her lips as her hips began curling in and out with the strokes of his hand.

Denny decided to notch up the pleasure, as well as satisfy his own starving mouth. While his hand played on her pussy, his mouth found the side of her jaw and her ear, and with ravenous kisses, tantalized Alessa even further. She tried to turn her head even more, tried to offer her mouth to his, but the angle made it too difficult, and so she was left to only bite her bottom lip in disappointment.

Her breath was heavy and fast, and she could feel the swell inside of her once more. She was half torn between relaxing into his ministrations to allow for the possibility of orgasm and resisting the driving power altogether. When her lower abdominals tensed, her inner walls clenching to muffle the sensations and she held her breath to focus on not being driven to the edge.

Well aware of exactly what she was doing, Denny whispered in her ear. "Aw, no no no, Sweetheart. Don't fight it. Do you take the easy routes? Or do you run the hills?" he asked, again reminding her of the torture she willingly endured on her runs. Alessa thrilled at pushing herself to the limit and overcoming. Here could be no different.

With a fearful whimper, she did as he wished, and relaxed her body to the increasing pleasure. It was less than a minute more when he withdrew his hand. Now aware of the purpose of this little encounter, Alessa only breathed out in controlled, forceful exhalations, allowing her conscious mind to absorb the pain in her sex and stomach and focus on navigating through the buzzing of her body. She lay there with arms bound tightly behind her back, eyes blindfolded, head laying on the left side, and butt in the air, panting and burning and trembling. She needed so much, but she knew Denny was giving her this opportunity to become stronger, to dig deep and become more than she had been before.

Denny watched her tremble in unfulfilled desire, watched her fingernails bite viciously into the skin of her forearms, and knew she was fighting for tranquility, wrestling to accept the pain and bear up under it heroically.

"You're so strong," he stated softly, petting her dark hair away from her neck, straightening the wisps that were damp from her sweat. "There's so much pain, but you don't let it stop you. It doesn't break you," he praised. His hands were wandering over her skin again, slowly fanning the little sparks of need still crackling not only on the surface of her body, but deep within.

"You remind me of Atlas," he commented idly, mesmerized a moment with watching a droplet of sweat stagger from where her forearms folded over her back, making its way haltingly down the various planes of her back created by the muscles around her spine and shoulder blade.

"Do you know the story?" he asked a moment before her leant forward to run the tip of his tongue to sweep the beaded moisture up.

She swallowed hard. "The Titan? Who holds up the sky?"

"That's the one," he whispered. "Because he was on the losing side, he was punished to uphold the heavens; to keep the sky from joining the earth once more. He is the great endurer. No matter the ache, no matter the pain, he is strong enough to up-hold it all." And then his fingers were once again sliding deep into the swollen tissue of her body.

Alessa moaned, vaguely wondering if she was as strong as Denny claimed. She certainly didn't feel like a Titan, didn't want to live past the pain, but rather needed to surrender to his talented hands and come sweetly. Unlike the two previous times, Denny didn't seem driven to bring her to the edge. His touch was something more considerate, more thoughtful and inquisitive.

However, despite the lack of focus, his fingers eventually had stirred her passion enough that she could feel something deep begin to roll within her, preparing itself to stretch and turn inside out. Denny moved at the change of her pleading voice, coming to kneel behind her. Alessa's passage pulled in tightly at the prospect that he was finally getting ready to enter her.

"You can withstand anything," he stated again, his free hand roaming soothingly over her. "You may be trapped, but you aren't powerless."

And then the hand buried in her began moving with determination and purpose, his two fingers swirling around the aching little nub while his thumb pressed and circled on the more hidden of the sensitive places inside her tight passage. The pleasure was too much too fast, and her already aroused and needy flesh was quickly taken back to the precipice, ready to drench his hand in her climax. But once more, much to the dismay of the murderous ache in the pit of her stomach, Denton pulled his hand away before she came.

Alessa cried out, her passage unconsciously clenching, grasping for something. Perhaps if she squeezed those inner muscles enough, the self-applied pressure would be sufficient to push her that millimeter more over the edge. And then she felt something hot and round pressed at the aching entrance of her body. Her hips instinctively push back against him, aiming to impale herself on him, but his biting fingers at her hips held her in place.

"Say it. Tell me even if you're trapped you're not at the mercy of another. You don't need to escape to survive," he instructed, his need to be buried in her evident in the strain in his voice.

Her voice was tremulous and half filled with moans, but she complied with his unyielding command. "I have the strength. I can survive—"

And then his hardened length was inside, forging its way almost violently into her body. Alessa only needed two strokes before her body drew up in a painful spasm, the orgasm pulling her inward on herself as ribbons of silky pleasure threaded through every possible nerve in her body. Denny used the fierce fluttering of her vaginal walls to help pull him over the edge with her. He rammed quickly into her quaking, writhing body until his shaft tightened deliciously at the base, and as he erupted deep inside her he growled ferociously, the pleasure like none other. He rode her through the endless wave of delirium that seemed to fling him heavenward.

Collapsing in a heaving shudder, Denny screwed his eyes tight as the euphoria seemed to fall violently yet delicately all over him. At some point his softening flesh slid from her, and for several minutes they could only lie askew and tangled on their sides. Limp and utterly satiated.

When Denny had the wherewithal, he opened his eyes and his fingers dumbly found the knots holding Alessa contorted like some sort of Léger painting. As the knots came loose and limbs were freed, her body pooled lifeless onto the mattress. He then untied the scarf around her eyes and watched for indications of her mood. Her look was dazed, and so he simply scooped her up and turned them to lay with their heads on the pillows. Before Denny settled in for the nap that was calling to him, he sat up and popped open the large hatch directly above them.

With the cool breeze rushing in like a giant sigh of relief, Denny lay back down and turned to cradle her head. As soon as the bay air ran over her damp skin, Alessa shivered and snuggled back into Denny. He reached for the throw at the foot of the bed and draped it over them.

"Wanna put your clothes back on?"

She yawned and shook her head, not caring enough to open her eyes even though they were now no longer blindfolded.

He smiled softly as his fingertips eased strands of her hair from her forehead.

"Are you okay?"

She was silent several minutes, before she nodded in answer.

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

Her eyes finally drifted open and looked ahead with that same dazed, distant look. "What did you mean?" she began, her voice nearly hoarse from her earlier cries. "When you talked about me being trapped but not escaping?"

Denny didn't answer, but waited patiently for her to work it out herself.

"You weren't just talking about that right then, were you? You were talking about something else?"

"What would that be?" he guided.

She sighed and closed her eyes again. "You think I escape my family."

He cocked a soft, sad half-smile. "Why do you think that?"

"Because you saw it. You witnessed me get angry and storm away."

"Yes," he mused, almost mockingly. "It was rather quite a good thing we didn't park in the drive or we would have been blocked in and you couldn't have escaped when you wanted."

"It's not escaping to leave when you know you've had enough."

"It is when you plan for it before it ever happens. When you have other choices but the only one you consider is just to leave. Without facing it."

"What's to face? My family thinks the worst things about me. I can't change that."

"Yes, that's rather a convenient thing to claim, especially when you've never attempted it."

"How would you know whether or not I've done anything?"

"Because I know you," he said softly, and drew her in tighter into his embrace. "Instead of facing it, you simply develop a way out. You make sure you're free to leave whenever you want. Whenever it becomes uncomfortable, you go to your car parked on the street and hightail it out."

"What if I do?"

"It changes nothing, Sweetheart. Instead of dealing with whatever is bothering you so you can fix it, you store it inside and take it out on the runs with you. You push your frustrations out of you in your sweat, but it doesn't solve the root of the problem. You run for the control you can't seem to get when you choose not to face those things. It's just a lie you tell yourself," he whispered emphatically. "And it just sets you up to be hurt again and again."

Alessa sighed and turned over in his arms, her hands coming together in front of her chest to unconsciously shield herself. "But nothing will change how Shelly treats me. And I don't want to create a big scene for Cadence's sake."

Denny's expression was relenting, understanding her dilemma. He agreed Alessa stepmother was unlikely to ever think anything kind of her. He pulled her tightly against his body, nestling her head under his chin. What infuriated him most was her oblivious father who had treated her plight with such inattention. Not only had he shattered her irreparably when he had left her mother—and her—but through his negligence, had left her to recover as best she could on her own, using maladaptive coping mechanisms like some sort of ineffective tape on shattered plaster.

All things Japanese? Didn't the man even know his daughter?

Denny completely blamed Alex Allen for the difficulty he'd had in ever getting close to Alessa. But then he grimaced when he thought about his own dickish behavior those first few times he had met her, deciding that he was far from innocent in their rocky start. He could feel by her slowed breathing that she had fallen asleep, and as his own eyes drifted closed, Denny found himself vowing to hold her until all her pieces were together again.