Between the Lines 06 (Futa on Male)

The next morning, Ben looked at his phone, the screen brilliant against the early light, sitting at his kitchen table spooning cereal into his lips. Like a late project update or an unidentified rash, the subject line "Connection Request!" seemed both familiar and somewhat frightening. He tapped it, and Ava's face emerged, glowing confidence and that fascinating something else Ben still couldn't quite identify. Though the dust on her LinkedIn profile was so thick it almost made one cough, the connection request was clearly fresh. Thoughtfully tapping his chin, Ben realized her and Michael were already linked. It slightly startled him. He floated above the "Accept" button, his finger quivering in uncertainty until he concluded that "later" was always a good choice.

The typical morning banter had quieted by the time he arrived at the office. His footsteps were hardly heard on the carpeted floor as he negotiated the labyrinth of cubicles. Ben sank into his corner, enjoying the false sense of seclusion the open-plan vastness offered. He sighed almost humanly as he turned on his desktop and dropped his rucksack.

"Ben." Like a precision-guided rocket, the voice cut across his thoughts. His supervisor and constant cause of conflict, Richard appeared beside Ben's desk. The project manager's eyes sparkled with the type of passion that suggested someone was going to be let down, most likely Ben.

"Richard," Ben said, failing brilliantly but trying for a cool professionalism.

"I see Ava phoned in sick." Richard's tone was sharp, devoid of any space for small chat or charity. " Where are we with the onboarding documentation?"

"I thought," Ben said, words flowing out with all the elegance of an inexperienced rock climber, "that those had already been shared?"

Richard's eyebrows danced a bit, rising and falling with a contemptuous beat. "Not based on what my email indicates. They're not in the system."

Ben's memory ran back to the past few days and he realized, sinkingly, most of the data were on Ava's work laptop. His pulse matched his nervous finger tapping on the desk. "I... can check again."

"Good," Richard replied, his mouth opening to something that, absent from great expectancy, could have been a grin. "Sooner rather than later."

Michael's lanky body emerged from around a corner as Richard spoke, his smile almost splitting his face in two. He descended into the seat across from Ben's desk with the understated grace of a falling bridge. "Heard Ava is sick," he remarked with low but joyful conspiratorial voice. "But largely online and answering messages."

Ben's lips drew a thin line, a wordless acknowledgement of the facts.

Michael reclined back, hands laced behind his head, a picture of slow smugness. "Rich is riding you reasonably hard, huh?"

"It's fine," Ben said, eyes fixed on his computer but ideas followed Richard like a lost dog. "I'll get it sorted."

Michael shrugged, an exaggerated gesture that threatened to spill him onto the floor. "If you say so. "

Ben wrinkled his forehead and tapped more forcefully. He could feel the fabric of the office politics stretching uncomfortably around him, every thread tangled with implications he wasn't ready to unravel.

Watching him, Michael waited for a response. "So, Benjamin, how would you approach playing this one?"

Ben had no response, not one that fit this strange new setting. With a mainly inward nod, he murmured, "I'll figure something out."

Michael answered, getting up with a single smooth move that suggested he could have functional muscles somewhere under all that lank. "Catch you later."

Ben was left to find his mind humming and his desk in silent anarchy. He felt as though he was still tying his shoes while the week had ran a marathon. Perhaps he was overly analytical and careful. Perhaps Michael's audacity was something he should have channeled, if only he could have survived it. Once more he sighed; it sounded even more human than the first one.

Ava's tidy empty desk seemed to be mocking him. He grumbled and accessed the corporate chat system, dragging Ava's name up and beginning to text. He stopped, thought again, then chose a deliberately noncommittal tone. "Need docs for onboarding. Thanks." Ava's response came so quickly that she seemed to have been hiding in wait. "Is that all you wanted to ask me?" His ears became heated, like though Ava had somehow squeezed them across the display. Aware that every keystroke sounded as uncomfortable as he felt, he typed back, "I don't want to talk personal issues on this system." She answered sharply, "At least ask me how I'm feeling, I'm sick." Ben stared at the screen, tapping out a single, hesitant question before quickly hitting send.

The response came nearly right away. "I'm good, albeit I suppose differently. Ava wrote, "My stuffed nose is giving me a headache," then a barrage of grumpy face emojis. Ben nearly heard the exaggerated sniffles in her voice. From her sickbed, she despatched the papers with the happy efficiency of a workaholic. She said, "Here are the files," then added, "I ran out of meds, though. My parents are out of town, and I don't have many close friends here yet." Ben moved in his chair, feeling the slinking hug of responsibility and remorse. His fingers hung over the keys, evidence of his uncertainty.

"Would you mind getting some aspirin on your way home?" Like a particularly guilty piñata, the question hung in front of him. He wriggled in his seat then gave up. "I can do that," he typed, his mental voice seeming considerably bolder than he felt.

"You truly are a lifesaver!" Ava answered, lavishing him virtual thanks. She emailed her address and then logged off with the finality of someone knowing she had acquired what she had sought.

Ben leaned back, fixed on the television, the weight of the unplanned errand slung over his shoulders like an inappropriate robe. His head spun with ideas of social uncomfortable situations and cold treatments. The tap-tap-tap of someone approaching jarred him from his thoughts.

" So, how is she doing?" As he passed, Michael questioned, his voice suggesting that he already knew more than Ben would have wanted to verify.

"Fine," Ben said, his face resembling a tomato very brilliantly. "Sick."

Except for Ben revisiting the memories of him on his knees in the women's locker room caught absorbed in the moment with Ava's massive dick down his throat, the day seemed to fly by. Her last remarks about his swallowing her whole load next time stayed with him and divided him. Though he was terrified at the prospect, there was an irresistible appeal to the forbidden concept that he could not completely get rid of.

Eager to leave the arena of workplace intrigue and Michael's interfering comments, he hurried to turn off his computer.

The only sound on the silent trip to the pharmacy was the hum of his automobile and the constant chorus of his own overanalyzing. He mentally went over the events of the day, recreating each embarrassing conversation in high-definition pain. The setting had been prepared for a regular workday, but as Ava's errand boy Ben had ended up with an evening shift. Michael's mocking, "You've got it bad, Ben," could practically be heard. Nevertheless, did he? Though he knew Ava was something else totally, Ben had no idea what he had.

Ben clutched the wheel somewhat tighter than he should have watching the light change from red to green. He thought he had plenty of time to get there, but his mind raced faster than his car as he down Park Avenue toward Ava's parents' house--quarter past four. The size of the houses shocked him; then, once more, his own amazement astonished him. Just five minutes from the office, the drugstore where he had picked up her aspirin was only five minutes away, and with some haste he made it in less than 10. The car cost him three months' salary when he bought it, but even his best attempt at quick went out the window when he found himself in Ava's neighborhood. The villas in this particular area of town must to have cost millions.

He was thinking too much by the time he arrived at her street. Ava asked him to drop off the medication since she was too sick to drive, but Ben couldn't get rid of the idea that he should just put them in the mailbox and evade the possibility of anyone recognizing him in the first place. His uncertainty was more pronounced when he arrived at the residence. She had termed it her parents' residence, but essentially this was a mansion. Three stories high, with a front yard almost as large as his whole apartment building and a brick-paved driveway practically the same size. Worrying about the neighbors and about Ava's family, he parked close to the garage and tried to slip nearer the door.

He attracted the eye of a gardener who was busy mowing the grass just as he believed he had passed the garage undetected. The man nodded at him; Ben nodded quickly back, trying not to seem overly guilty about it. He looked back at the elegant mansion ahead of him and almost shot the rest of the way up the road. Though he had no idea what her parents made of a living, he knew they lacked his concerns.

Ben waited staring at the costly woodwork while the doorbell sang through the house. He didn't know how long he would have to save to get anything like this even with a pristine resume and ten years of seniority. Ava opened the door as he was just beginning to consider returning to the car and cutting his losses. She was beautiful even though her hair was disheveled, she was wearing a big sweatshirt, and her nose looked a little red. She leaned against the door frame, holding the door slightly ajar.

She grinned teasingly and replied, "My hero." She sniffled, wiped her nose with a tissue, and looked at the aspirin bottle in his palm as though it were the nicest gift anyone had given her. He hesitated, nervous, but she was quicker than he was and snatched it before he could change his mind.

Feeling awkward, he shifted on his feet. "I should probably--"

"Run off and leave a girl in her time of need?" she interrupted. "A real knight in shining armor." She tilted her head and gestured inside the house. " You are staying for dinner, come on."

He almost turned away, but instead watched the way her sweatpants moved then stopped. The invitation hung in the air, and she stretched out to grasp him by the hand before he could come to terms with a justification for saying no.

"Takeout," she replied. "Ordered sufficient for two. Think of it as my kind of payback. "

He shot a glance over his shoulder. Though it felt safe enough and the gardener was still nowhere to see, he couldn't get rid of his uncertainty. "Your parents?"

"Not due back for a while," she said, chuckling a little. "You really need to worry less." He let her drag him inside at last when she tugged him beyond the threshold.

There was a strange tension between them, and Ben wasn't sure what to do with it. Last time they had been together, he had ended up with Ava's dick in his mouth; however, this was different--that was in the heat of the moment, back at the office. Though he wasn't sure if the tension was in his head, it was making him feel off-balance and as though he couldn't tell if she shared the same thing on her mind. It felt both too public and overly intimate at once. Ava was under the weather; he should have let her rest, but she was still so very hot, and a part of him was angry at how desperately he wanted to recreate their experience despite knowing he couldn't. Ben was hyper-aware of the sound of their footsteps and of how her hand felt as it gripped his as they moved across the foyer.

Stopping, she inhaled and drew him in. "Don't worry; I won't use you until we get back at work," she stated. Her voice was light, but her eyes told him she understood exactly what was happening within his thoughts.

Ava motioned toward the kitchen and gave his hand another light squeeze. He let out a long exhale and followed, pretending not to be quite so relieved.

Ava pulled Ben across the house and past an entrance hall with a chandelier practically as big as his car while her fingers encircled his. They went inside the kitchen; the countertop most likely cost more than his computer setup, the cabinets were genuine mahogany, and the flooring was polished marble. If this was her parents' place, then they had to be millionaires. Her palm still gripped his, the embrace nearly relentless and possessive. She made good on her earlier remark, saying that she wouldn't take advantage of him until they were back at the office. Her laughing, mischievous and knowing, reverberated over the huge hall. Though it caught in his throat and came out as more of a cough, he nearly laughed too.

Ava glanced over at him and released his hand to cross the kitchen. Feeling the heat rise to his face, he massaged the back of his neck and tried to consider what to say. She was taking it all in stride, but he couldn't imagine how he'd handle seeing her in the office again after today.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," he managed to get out, "to, you know, repeat things. Not at work. What if we got caught? I could get fired." He couldn't help it even though he knew he sounded paranoid.

She arched her eyebrows as though she expected a stronger case. "I am new, and even I can tell you worry too much. Who do you think would fire you, anyway?"

He hesitated, seeking a more persuasive justification. "Well, it's simply--"

"Just you caring too much about what people think," Ava said. "Ben, living up to other people's expectations is no fun." She crossed back to him and used her finger to puck his chest. "Luckily, I don't do anything anyone's uncomfortable with."

Not quite sure, he responded, "Right."

"You'll see," she said with a knowing smirk, then twisted open the aspirin bottle, put a pair into her mouth and washed them down with tap water.

Feeling a bit ridiculous standing there, he went further into the kitchen and allowed his eyes stray over its dimensions and the way it seemed intended for the kind of dinner parties he had only seen in movies. The ceiling was high, and he could not find one item that resembled a department store item. Ava was this great question mark, far less predictable than the code he was accustomed to handling. She had rich parents, was hot, and way out of his league. Though she was unwell and appeared to be fresh out of bed, the uncertainty would not go away--that she would genuinely desire him for more than a passing fling. He became less certain of anything at all the more time he spent standing there.

Ava spotted him staring and started to smile sardonically. Pulling him back to the moment, she joked, "Jealous of the kitchen?" She went to the stainless-steel refrigerator and picked some takeout containers, setting them in the middle on the marble counter. She opened one of the boxes and mildly contemptuously examined the contents. "I couldn't eat any of this," she gestured at the meal. "Go ahead, really."

Uncertain, "Uh," he began, "are you sure?"

"Positive," She pushed a box in his line of sight, then turned and started for the door, gesturing for him to follow. "Come on. We'll eat in the living room."

He paused briefly then grabbed the food and pursued her. He couldn't help but admire the way she moved, her sweatpants swaying as she walked. The more he tried not to focus on it, the more he did, and by the time they reached the living room, he was certain she was doing it on purpose.

Including furniture he had only seen in catalogues, the area was even larger than the kitchen. The carpet appeared to have more value than he paid for rent annually. Ava dropped herself onto a large couch perhaps fit for a basketball team, leaving him standing unsure of where to sit.

Turning on the TV, she said, "You planning to eat standing up?"

He sat beside her, cleared his throat, stumbled with the box, and then started eating. The food was cold, but he realized with the second bite just how hungry he actually was.

Ava changed the channels and settled on something. He wasn't sure if it was a game or highlights, but it looked like a lot of basketball. Examining the dish in his hands, she asked, "Any good?"

"It's great," he said, between bites, considering it was better than anything he had had in weeks.

She answered, pretending surprise, " Really? Must be the fever, then." She turned to face him and stroking her nose with the rear of her hand grabbed for a tissue. "I'm definitely contagious; I'm not sure if I should tell you this. You might want to sprint for it before you start to feel sick too.

He looked at her, unsure if she was serious.

"Or," she said, "you might stay and cuddle." She sounded bored, and he wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

He stared at her, still trying to decide when she tilted her head with a grin. "Just because you move close doesn't mean you'll get lucky, though."

Ben almost choked on his meal; his face turned hot once more. He started to say, "That's not--" but her laughing cut him off.

She poked him on the arm and said, "You are so easy to embarrass." She shifted so that he ended up between her legs, sitting back against her. For someone claiming to be sick, her hold was shockingly robust.

"You're too good at this," he mumbled, trying to find a comfortable position as the last of the tension drained from him.

She encircled his chest and gently pulled him a small distance. Though he could feel her length pressed tightly against his outer thigh, he was unsure whether she was acting deliberately or just naturally. She curled him close, her breath warm against his neck, and he let himself unwind even as the ideas in his head flew faster than they had ever done.

Ava's arms encircled him; he placed his head on her chest and listened to her heart play a quick cadence across her ribs. He liked it and the faint smell of sweat that came from her clothes. It wasn't like him, but he didn't care. His words muffled in her hoodie, "When are your parents back?" he inquired. "Couple of days," she remarked, giving him a lighthearted prod. Ben let himself flow into her. She urged him to reach for the Kleenex on the couch table. His hand moved to her leg as he rose up to collect them, but it was a touch off course and grazed her bulge.

"Sorry!" he yelled, heat streaming to his face. He tried to distance himself, but she shockingly tightly clamped her arms around him.

"Slut," she said, smirking.

The word jolted him. Speechless and wide-eyed, he stared at her. Her manner of saying it startled him, but something about it made him tingle. Though she was laughing at him, he was startled enough to think she meant it.

"I'm kidding," she said, leaning her head to see him fumble with a reply. "Mostly."

Trying to play along, he laughed nervously but couldn't get rid of how the word felt. Pretending to be insulted, he muttered, "I should go," and proceeded to get up.

Ava seized his wrist, her hold strong and reluctant to release. She said, this time without the mocking tone, "Stay." He hesitated, and she tugged him back down. "Sorry, okay?" She pouted a little, and her eyes begged softly. " Didn't meant to scare you off."

He looked at her, then at the door, then back at her.

She gave him still another squeeze. "Pretty please?"

Ben couldn't resist, not when she looked at him like that. He eased into her embrace, and Ava's lips curved into a triumphant smile. Her palm moved down his arm, lower, till it rested on his crotch and worked the fabric of his jeans.

She said, "Please," again, a giggle in her voice. "Pretty please?"

He stiffened, but in a very different manner and exhaled shakily. Ava kept touching him, feeling the bulge in his jeans expand. "I owe you, remember?" she said. "You really didn't think I'd let you leave without paying you back, did you?"

She moved, scooting him forward on the couch and creating space for herself to seat in front of him. Stunned, he watched her as she unzipped him and grabbed his dick. Ben's breath came faster; it was already at practically full mast.

He bit his lip to prevent moaning too loudly. Ava was unrelenting; her mouth moistened around his shaft. She sucked him fast and hard, stopping momentarily to flash him a sardonic smirk. "You should take notes," she said, then went back to it, her head bobbing up and down as Ben writhed.

Blinking, he absorbed the strange scene playing out before him. Ava was kneeling in front of him, her golden hair cascading and her eyes glittering like emeralds. Her wonderfully formed lips encircled his shaft, the pink tip of her tongue flickering against the sensitive underside of his comparatively average sized penis. Her eyes watered slightly as she bobbed her head, guiding him deeper; she gagged, then recovered, her breath hot and wet on his skin. Her lips, slippery and glistening, slipped over the engorged head while she sucked hollowing her cheeks.

He was losing it, hips bucking toward her. She had to hold him back from spiraling too far. Ava pulled back with a pop just as he thought he couldn't hold out any more; he felt a pressure about to explode.

"Not yet," she murmured almost silently.

Blinking bewildered and pained, he glanced at her heated face.

"Take off your pants," she told him. Her eyes flicked to the sofa then to his entire outfit, a subliminal hint suggesting he strip all the way.

Desperate to follow directions, Ben stammered with the pants about his ankles. He was not bothered about how foolish he appeared. He assumed Ava was at last allowing him to finish what she had begun. Eager, he kicked his way out of his clothes and sank back onto the couch.

"Not like that," Ava said, grinning at how easily she wound him up. "On your knees."

Not knowing what she meant, he paused. She pointed to tell him to sit with his legs under him. Ava gave his dick a playful flick while it was still at attention, sticking into the air.

She said, as though it were clear, "this way." She changed his posture such that he understood what she intended. "You will want to be like this. "

Her own sweatpants moved, the bulge under them fighting to remain in place. Ben found himself staring even as she told him to turn and give her room on the couch. He took a hard swallow, uncertainty and expectation whirling in his chest.

Ben knelt, his nude body exposed and defenseless as his knees fell into the soft cushions of the couch, dick sticking skyward like some ridiculous flagpole. His heart thumping against his ribs, he could feel sweat running down his spine. While the rest of him stayed still waiting to see what Ava would do next, the logical side of his brain shouted for him to get up and walk out.

Ava positioned herself behind him; her cold had left her rather constricted in her breathing. Her body felt hot against his back, the smooth fabric of her hoodie touching his back. Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of her sweatpants, and he heard her breath catch as she began to stroke herself. Her other arm slinked around his waist, fingers gently but firmly grasping his erection.

Whispering, her breath hot against his ear, "You like that?" she gave him a few slow, deliberate strokes.

"Yeah," he managed, his voice barely audible. His mouth went dry at the feeling of her hand on him knowing she was indulging herself just inches away.

Ava's hand left his, and he sensed the couch move as she bent toward the little handbag on the table. She fumbled about inside it for a moment before extracting what appeared to be a tiny lotion tube. Ben stared at it, his brain taking a moment to process what he was seeing. His stomach turned anxious when awareness hit him.

"Is that...?" he asked, not sure he could complete the inquiry.

"Lube," Ava said, her voice laid back, as if she was commenting on the weather. "It makes everything better."

Ben choked hard, his head whirling through the ramifications. Why would she wantthatexcept she was intending to... He couldn't complete the thought, but the evidence was clear. Calculating the distance, his eyes strayed toward the entrance and he wondered whether he should make a break for it. But something anchored him in place: curiosity, perhaps, or a deeper need he wasn't ready to admit.

Ava said, "lean forward," laying a hand on his shoulder. Get on your elbows.

His body stiffened as he hesitated. "Why?"

"Just do it," she murmured, her voice lowering to a demanding one that sent a shudder across him. She pressed against his rear with unexpected force. She was quite powerful, her grip solid and relentless, for someone claiming to be unwell.

"I don't think--" he began, but she cut him off with another push, harder this time.

"Stop thinking so much," she said. "I know you want this."

He did? Though his body was reacting as though it were, Ben wasn't sure. His breathing had become shallow, and even with hisapprehensionhis erection had not wavered in the least. His ass high in the air, knees wide on the couch, he let himself be guided forward till his face rested against the cushions. He was completely exposed in the humiliating doggy style posture, and yet he did not move to change it.

Behind him he heard the rustle of cloth, then the smooth whoosh of Ava's sweatpants hurtling through the air. They landed in a heap next to the couch, and Ben turned his head to see what wasgoing onacross his shoulder.

The sight that met him senthis bodya shock of both terror anddelight. Ava stood there, her hoodie still on but her bottom halftotallybare. Her cock was massive, stiff, and pointed squarely athimlike some sort of indictment. Her stance broad and assured, one leg planted on the couch cushion and the other on the floor. Her hand generouslyappliedlubrication to her length, spreading it withcarefulslow strokes.

"Wait," Ben said, shaking with terror. "I don't think I can. Inever--"

"Shh," Avacalmedwith an edge to her demeanor thatdisn'twelcome debate. "It'll feel good. Trust me." Her free hand, soft but forceful, went out to stroke his exposed ass cheek. "It'll sting a bit at first, but then it gets amazing. Please trust me."

Trusther? He barely knew her. This was crazy. Ben didn't move, though, his face ablaze with shame and arousal.

"I really want to fuck you," she continued, her voice dropping to a husky whisper."Beenconsidering it since that day in the office."

Her hand slid from his ass cheek toward the split separating them, a finger following until it came upon his entrance. Ben faltered at the touch, the delicate ring of muscle tightening reflexively.

"Never been touched here before?"Thoughit was not quite a question, Ava asked. She lightly pressed but not yetpushedwithin, circling the tight pucker with her fingertip.

Ben said, "No," his voice muffled against the pillow. He had never given it any thought before. What implications this meant about him? About his sexuality? He staggered at the whirl of questions in his head. Was he gay? Bisexual? Alternativelywas this really a kind of power dynamic unrelated to orientation?

A last-minute plea for reason, he said, "Should we be doing this?"for a means of back-off without owning the decision.

Ava laughed and the sound was rough yet melodic. "You'd already suck my dick, remember? This will not make you any more of a faggot than you already are."

The word struck him like a slap across the face, surprising, terrible, and exciting all at once. Ava slid in closer, her cock's slimy head pressing on his ass cheeks, before he could examine or object. She started to grind against him, sliding her whole length down the crevice without penetrating, the lube offering a frictionless glide that sent unanticipated sparks of pleasure across his body.

"Oh," Ben said, the rush unlike anything he had experienced before. Though he was afraid and confused, his body reacted with enthusiasm. His dick pulsed under him, harder than it had ever been, and he felt himself pushing against her, yearning more touch.

He bit his bottom lip almost automatically and dropped more into the couch cushions. His back arched somewhat, raising his ass to provide simpler access to his entrance. Driven by a passion he didn't recognize, his body had taken over while the part of his brain still capable of reason shouted at him to stop and go.

Ava whimpered, her fingers accelerating on her cock as she started to grind against him. "That's it. Show me how much you want it."

He desired it; God help him. Though it would not stop the primal longing that had seized his body, the shame of that knowledge flashed over him. He was hers to command and use; the idea gave him an odd excitement he couldn't resist.

Ben's breath caught in his throat at the direct pressure at his entrance. Ava positioned herself behind him, the slippery head of her cock pressing fiercely into the tight ring of muscle, her strong grip on his hips keeping him from writhing away. His fingers sank into the couch cushions, braced for what lay ahead, his mind whirled in equal parts terror and eager inquiry.

"Fit?" Ava asked, her voice tight with want yet quiet.

She pushed ahead with will before he could organize his ideas into a cogent answer. The pressure built quickly, first a gentle, hesitant nudge then a strong, uncompromising demand for entrance. Ben's teeth started to grind together as his mouth opened to produce a strangled, forced sound. His jaw clenched. His body naturally objected to the alien invasions. For him, the sensation was completely different--a searing, fiery stretch that extended outward and sent ripples of anguish all around.

Ava said, "Relax," her thumbs making little circles on his lower back. You're too uptight.

Ben forced his thoughts to control his muscles to unclench, trying furiously to follow her directions, but his body refused with a fierce will. Until at last something yielded, the pressure grew with relentless power, pushing against his resistance with unbreakable determination. Her cock's head broke through the tight barrier of muscle, and Ben let out a raw mix of a deep, guttural groan and a sharp gasp that echoed throughout the room.

Ava remarked, "There we go," grabbing for the lubrication once more. Just need a little more of this.

Ben felt the chilly liquid slinking down his crack as she squeezed the bottle straight above where they were united. Not pushing further but rather letting him adjust to the invasion, it pooled around her cock and gave more slickness as she softly swayed her hips.

The agony was overwhelming, shooting up his spine and shaking his legs under him. His breathing came in quick, short pants, and he started to second his choice to let this happen. Simultaneously, there was something exciting about being taken this way, about so totally giving up control.

Ava put her hands on either side of his hips, her hold strong and possessive as she started to press forward once more, agonizingly slowness guiding her into him. Though Ben could feel something else starting to stir beneath it all--a weird, foreign pleasure that made his toes curl into the couch cushions--each centimeter of advancement drove fresh waves of misery through him.

The sensation strong and unambiguous in his mind jarred a recollection to life. Once back in his college years, he had been with a girl--an experience defined by clumsy awkwardness, the kind that seemed to define early life. Then, seated behind her, he had been the one watching her face twist with a mix of pleasure and expectation as they moved together. The tables had changed now, and he was in a similar vulnerable state learning something new. The symmetry of it struck him, the perfect circular nature of the experience. But was this exactly her experience? The same jumble of arousal and vulnerability? His ideas whirled, trapped between sympathy and a disturbing sensation of uneasiness.

Ava pushed forward, her cock now futher inside him past the head, stretching him in ways he hadn't dreamed possible. His ideas dispersed like leaves caught in a breeze. He felt an electric charge, unfamiliar and exciting, rushing through his body. Ben drew quickly through his teeth, the sound of air hiss under pressure. His hands fumbled for grip on the couch's armrest, fingers wriggling firmly around the cloth as though it were a lifeline. For a time he teetered on the brink of consciousness, the world around him blurring into a kaleidoscope of feelings, so strong and overwhelming.

"Should I stop?" asks Ava inquired, her voice softer now, but she kept a strong hold on his hips.

Ben's anguish battled with his pride. Stopping would mean accepting his inability to manage what she could give him and so admitting defeat. But continuing? The suffering almost was intolerable.

"No," he choked off, the word hardly audible.

Ava stopped, cock throbbing inside him. "Are you certain? If it is too much, I can pull out."

"No," he said again, somewhat more forcefully this time. Though the suffering persisted, something else was growing under it--a fullness that would soon turn into delight.

Ava said, "then tell me you want this," her voice lowering. "Tell me you want me to fuck you."

Ben turned away from the politeness of the request, his face ablaze with humiliation even as his cock twitched between his thighs. "I... I can't."

"Say it," she insisted, her grip tightening on his hips. "I really want to hear you say it."

He closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment. "Fuck me," he whispered, the words feeling weird on his tongue.

"Louder,"

"Fuck me," he repeated, defeated but aroused all the same.

Her fingernails dug into flesh as her grip on his hips tightened and she drove herself farther into him. Ben felt as though he may split in two as the slow, relentless march went halfway inside. As the agony peaked, his eyes clenched firmly and tears gathered at the corners.

From far away, the buzz of a lawnmower began, the ordinary sound of suburban life continuing just outside these gates. The contrast was striking: while Ben was being changed, molded by Ava's cock inside him, outside normal life continued. The idea should have made him nervous, but in his present condition it simply accentuated the bizarre character of the event.

Ava mumbled, "You're so tight," her voice husky with desire. "Your hole feels fantastic around my cock."

Ben immersed in the overpowering sensations flooding his body hardly registered the words. The agony had leveled out, a steady, scorching presence that required all of his focus.

His voice breaking, he muttered, "I can't. I can't take any more."

Ava's hand caressed his lower back; if only for her next words, this touch may have been consoling.

"Poor baby," she said, her voice full of fake sympathy. "Can't handle a real cock, can you? And I am just halfway in."

Ava was moving once more, lubricating her cock with one hand while keeping Ben firmly in place with the other before Ben could reply. Before she started her unrelenting push, the chilly gel dripped down his crack, a brief reprieve.

She urged, "just a little more," then pushed on with more vigor now. "Almost there."

Ben felt the comforting warmth of her hips finally press firmly against his back, a clear indication that she was now fully sheathed inside him. Like a burst of energy running through him, the overwhelming sensation of being totally filled, stretched to his maximum limits was both intense and exciting. His muscles trembled automatically, each fiber appearing to pulsate with a life all its own. His skin tingled like charged static electricity, and he battled to fit the strange scale. Every minute change she made caused a flood of feeling to sweep over his whole body, like waves slamming on a coast, leaving him stunned and thrilled. He became breathless.

"Stop," he said, the phrase midway between a directive and a tear. " Please, just stop for a second."

Ava chuckled, the sound resonating through her body and, thus, through his as well. It surprised him.

"You're adorable," she murmured, her tone almost loving. "But I think a different angle could help."

Ava's arms encircled Ben's waist and she started to move before he could inquire what she meant. Her cock still buried within him, she moved both of them, reclining back on the couch and dragging him down with her. The movement caused fresh waves of agony across his body, but then unexpectedly some of the pressure released.

Ben was seated on Ava's lap at the end, his back to her chest, her arms around his waist, and her cock remained firmly buried inside him. The new posture--reverse cowgirl--his brain provided with a hint of hysteria--changed the angle of insertion, allowing him to take her more gently.

Ava said, "There," her lips near his ear. "Now you can control the pace. Try using your legs to lift yourself."

Ben knew the implication even if his limbs felt like jelly. He could choose how much of her to take, how quickly, how deep with this posture. The awareness was strangely liberating, a tiny compromise of control in an act of which he had given up so much.

He tried to shift, gently elevating himself an inch or two then lowering back down. The movement sent a fresh surge of sensation through him, but this time there was more pleasure than pain--a deep, strange feeling that made him gasp not in agony but in amazement.

"That's it," Ava said, hands soft on his hips now. "See, better already."

As Ben settled into the new position in Ava's lap, the pressure inside him changed from intolerable to something very different. His breath was tiny gasps, the first anguish giving way to an unfamiliar pleasure that made his toes curl against the floor carpet. Surprised by the change, he blinked, his body moving from opposing the intrusion to embracing it quickly.

"Better?" Whispering, Ava's breath warmed his ear. Her hands rested loosely on his hips, no longer tightly holding as though she understood she no longer needed to keep him in place.

"Yes", Ben said, the word catching in his throat. " It's... different."

Different was an understatement. With gravity doing most of the job, the agony had faded to a dull throb in this posture, eclipsed by an increasing pleasure radiating outward from where they were united. Experimentally, he moved his hips, gently swaying from side to side, and gasped at the sensation of Ava's cock sliding inside him, pressing against areas he hadn't realized were sensitive.

Ava's sigh resonated across her breast into his back, her fingers temporarily gripping his hips. "Oh, that's great," she exclaimed, her voice rich with delight. "Do it again."

Ben nodded, intentionally shifting his weight and felt the firm length of her move within him. His own cock started to harden once again, reacting to the new sensations after it had faded considerably during the uncomfortable portion of their contact. His eyes rolled back slightly as he discovered an angle that jolted delight up his spine.

"See?" Ava answered with a tone of triumph. "Told you it gets better."

Ben had some limited control as his feet were on the floor. He tentatively stretched his legs, raising himself a little. Ava's cock slipped out of him a few inches at once, and the friction produced made him gasp. Unused to this kind of work, his thighs shook with the attempt of keeping himself up.

"Put your feet on the couch," Ava said, her voice light but forceful. "You'll have better leverage that way."

Ben paused, then dropped himself back down, allowing her whole length to once more pass through him. He became light-headed with the sensation of being totally filled, but he managed to get his feet on the cushions and hold Ava's knees with his hands. His knees pointed upwards in this new posture, his body totally exposed.

"That's it," Ava said, her hands lightly drawing comforting designs on his thighs. "Then try again."

Ben tried to rise himself once again while feet planted on the couch. With the exertion, his legs trembled and muscles strained in ways they never had. Before his strength failed him, he managed to raise a few inches; the strange posture was taxing.

Ava's hands tightly grabbed his hips before he could bring himself down. She briefly supported his weight so he would hover over her. Then she abruptly drew him back down with startling strength. His ass connected with her thighs with a sharp, wet slap, her cock burying itself fully inside him in one swift motion.

The sudden fullness, the unexpected force, drew a sound from Ben that he barely recognized as his own--a high, feminine squeal that transformed into a deep moan of pleasure. The effect sent a surge of feeling throughout his whole body, a complicated mix of pleasure and anguish that left him gasping.

"Listen to you," Ava remarked, her voice combining desire with amusement. "Like a slut. You enjoy this, right? Your ass feels incredible."

The statements ought to have upset him and sent off some manly defensive reaction. Rather, they sent a fresh blast of heat through his body, his cock fluttering in response. Something about being talked to this manner, reduced to a vehicle for pleasure, avoided his reasoning thinking and linked straight to some basic portion of his brain.

His hand went to his erection and encircled it without deliberate thinking. The fullness inside him, the strong push on some hitherto unidentified point deep within, the familiar feel of his own hand--the feeling was nearly too much to take. It just required one stroke. His body tensed around Ava's long mast as ecstasy tore over him in waves, his orgasm striking him with the weight of a physical blow. White ropes of semen shot from him, arcing through the air and landing on the sofa table with audible splats. Raw and uncontrolled, a groan tore from his throat.

Ava whispered, "My turn," her voice tight with yearning as his motions slowed. She thrust upward, lifting Ben off balance, before he could recover from his climax. The abrupt motion made him fling his hands backwards, gripping the top of the couch to prevent tumbling into her.

He found himself in a precarious position--his feet planted on either side of Ava's thighs, his back arched over her. Still gushing semen, his spent cock floated in the air and he felt Ava's length half inside him pulsating with unmet yearning.

A tiny bit of lucidity came back to him as his orgasm wave passed. His heart almost stopped as he reminded himself that the living area included a sizable part of windows facing the backyard. His eyes strayed across the room. To everyone who would happen to be outside, their pairing was on full show.

He looked wildly around the yard, then felt comfort when he realized it was empty. Still, the prospect of being seen set him off in a panic attack. Suppose a neighbor decided to drop by? What if the gardener he'd seen earlier came around to the back?

"We should stop," he replied, his voice strained with nervousness. "Someone may see."

Ava said, her voice quiet with arousal: "You're not going anywhere until I'm done."

Ben attempted to move, to dismount, but his legs shook fiercely under him, the result of his climax and the foreign effort leaving them weak and unresponsive. Ava's cock surged inside him despite his worries; to his shame, he felt the sensation still pleasant even with his dread of detection.

He sighed resignedly, then sank himself back down and once more took her whole length within him. He dropped his knees to the sofa seat, straddling her thighs more cosily, to relieve the pressure on his shaking legs. In this sense, he could rise and fall with minimal effort, drawing on his upper legs' stronger muscles.

" Take your time, why don't you?" Ava answered, frustration darkening her voice. She gently rested a hand on his lower back and pushed him forward eagerly.

Ben followed, raising himself off her cock as much as the new posture let, then bringing himself down. Now the movement was simpler; his body more suited to the incursion; the agony mostly replaced a developing pleasure that begged him to question why he had ever resisted in the first place.

"That's better," Ava murmured, her fingers digging into the flesh of his hips as she guided his movements. "Keep going. Stop only when I order you to."

Ben kept rising and falling on her cock, each motion a bit more fluid than the last. Ava's breathing became heavier behind him, her hold on his hips tightening as her own pleasure developed. And despite his fears, despite the open window and the risk of discovery, Ben found himself caught up in the rhythm, in the strange, intoxicating pleasure of being filled, of being used, of surrendering control in a way he never had before.

As Ben rode Ava's cock with increasing confidence, his thighs tensed and released in time that worked for both of them. Every time he sunk down, dragging her whole length inside him, a little gasp from his lips--not of agony but of a pleasure so strong it almost seemed supernatural. His head had gone wonderfully blank, free from the continual anxiety about promotions and office politics and what others would think of him. Only this moment, only the sensation of total filling, only the expression of voracious want on Ava's hot face under him.

"Just like that," Ava urged in a hoarse and excited tone.

The action brought back memories of riding a horse, something he had done just a few times at summer camp as a kid. An up and down motion and constant action needing balance and strength he hadn't thought he possessed. Every fall was smoother with the slick lubrication than with the last, and the room was obscene and exciting with the wet noises of their union.

Ben had the leverage he needed to keep the pace by resting his hands on Ava's knees. His naked chest, which shined with a fine sheen of sweat. Ava's precum, he realized, was oozing from her cock and mingling with the lubrication as it flowed down his skin in small rivulets. He could feel another sort of dampness on his inner thighs.

Under him, Ava's breathing got weighty; her chest rose and fell quickly one after the other. Her eyes were half-lidded, mouth slightly open, her face one of sheer joy as Ben kept working on her shaft. Her hands worked down his hips to his thighs, fingernails firmly enough to leave crescent-shaped impressions on his skin.

She panted, her hips starting to rise to meet his downward motion, "God, your ass feels amazing. So goddamn tight."

The crude language sent another jolt of arousal through Ben's body. After his previous orgasm, his own cock had softened considerably; now it was completely straight and bounced with every movement of his body. Though there was something about the way Ava filled him, the way her cock rubbed against that point deep inside him, that kept him in a continual state of pleasure; he hadn't expected to grow hard again so fast.

Ben kept his up and down motion, and Ava's hold on his thighs tightened. Her strength surprised him -- for someone claiming to be sick, she had remarkable power in her slender fingers. Her hips pushing upward with growing desperation, she started to control his motions more fiercely, dragging him down harder, quicker.

Her cheeks flushed with both pleasure and effort, she exclaimed, "Fuck, I'm getting close."

As their speed increased, the obscene squelching sounds got louder; the extra lubrication produced a wet symphony that would have mortified Ben in any other environment. Now, though, it just heightened his excitement; it was a soundtrack for their union that felt exactly suitable for their activities.

Ava started to breathe even more irregularly and moved more erratically. As she neared her climax, Ben could feel her prick pounding inside him, getting ever harder. She kept him in place her hands moving back to his hips, fingers sinking in with painful power.

"Don't stop," she commanded, her voice strained. "Don't you dare stop!"

Ben followed, riding her with fresh zeal in spite of searing in his thighs. The effort paid off in the way Ava appeared under him: totally disoriented, her normal calm broken by pleasure. Her head was thrown back on the couch, neck exposed, a thin film of sweat giving her skin glist in the afternoon sun.

Ava's hands suddenly tightened down on his hips with startling force. As a shout of ecstasy tore from her throat, she drew him down firmly and impaled him totally on her cock. Ben felt her whole body stiff under him; her back arched off the couch and her orgasm struck her with great power.

She yelled, "Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" her voice bouncing throughout the vacant home.

The feeling that followed stunned Ben right down to his core. He felt Ava's cock pulse strong within him, then a surge of warmth as she started to cum. It wasn't just a little bit either; wave after wave of hot semen entered his body, filling him in a way he hadn't expected. Far more than he would have imagined, the quantity was incredible; as she kept pumping into him, he felt part of it oozing out around her shaft, flowing down to pool on the sofa under them.

The sensation was indescribable, filled so totally, so thoroughly claimed by another person. Though Ben had already peaked before, his own cock twitched in reaction as his eyelids rolled back slightly. He discovered himself groaning in time with Ava, their voices forming a duet of ecstasy that seemed to fill the house.

Ava's orgasm appeared to go indefinitely, her cock pulsing and spurting into him for what felt like a whole minute. Every each wave brought Ben's body another bolt of delight; his muscles tightened around her shaft reflexively. His own cock leaked pre-cum, dribbling clear, viscous drops.

Ava's hold on his hips relaxed as the force of her climax started to wain. Her hands slid to his lower back, massaging the flesh there with startling sensitivity. She peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, a content grin playing at the corners of her mouth.

He saw closely as her sweatshirt had been pulled up to her neck, revealing her naked flesh of her breasts to the cool air. Her hands moved with a soft, rhythmic beauty that embodied an amazing femininity that enthralled him. Emphasizing her gentle curves of form, her fingers sketched smooth, circular patterns with the elegance of a dancer. Her deliberate, careful motions under her nicely formed breasts highlighted her hard, tempting nipples. The sight was evidence of her seductive womanhood; every movement celebrated her innate beauty.

"Holy shit," she said, her chest still vibrating with effort. "That was... incredible."

Ben nodded, not able to create cogent words. From the odd and overpowering pleasure of being surrounded with Ava's release, his head was still whirling from the intensity of what had just transpired. She clearly seemed satisfied, but he couldn't stop the worry that started to slink in at the margins of his awareness. What if someone had heard them? If they were found nude and joined, with proof of their activity seeping over the pricey furnishings, what then?

Ava chuckled gently, her hands still lightly stroking his back in calming circles as though reading his thoughts. Her voice raspy from screaming, she added, "Don't worry so much. Nobody is going to catch us."

Though he wasn't quite sure, Ben felt himself unwinding under her touch. Ava possessed something that made him eager to take chances he would never have thought about previously.

"That was..." he started, but trailed off not sure what to say.

"Incredible? Mind-blowing? Life-changing?" Ava said, a mocking slant to her voice.

"Yeah," Ben agreed, a little smile pulling at his mouth. "ALL of those."

Ava's face softened and she displayed an unexpected tenderness. "You know," she remarked, her voice softer now, "that was my first time doing that. Anal, I mean."

Surprised, Ben peered at her down from above. "Really?"

She nodded, a little flush staining her cheeks. "Absolutely. I've thought about it, obviously, but never actually... you know. But your ass was very fantastic. better than I could have expected."

Ben felt an odd surge of satisfaction in the revelation. As she had been his, he had been her first. That had something strangely intimate about it, something that went beyond their simple physical act.

"I should probably..." he said, pointing vaguely to suggest he ought to leave.

Ava nodded, but she seemed hesitant to let him leave. "Yeah, probably. We've made quite a mess already."

Ben started carefully to raise himself off her cock. He bit his lip to stifle another groan as the movement sent a fresh wave of sensation throughout his body. Her still-hard penis dropped with a wet slap on her stomach, glittering with lubricant and semen as the tip of it finally slipped away.

The instant emptiness created an empty, confusing feeling, but what followed was much more shocking. D eprived of the pressure from Ava's cock that had been holding it contained, the great volume of semen she had deposited started to escape in earnest. It sprang from him in a furious torrent, splattering upon her exposed flesh, the soft fabric of the couch, and even producing little pools on the floor. It flowed down his thighs in rivules. The mess was significant, far more than Ben had expected, and he felt a flush of shame rising on his cheeks as he absorbed the messy scene--the warmth covering his flesh.

"Oh god," he said, mortified by what he saw. "I'm sorry about the--"

Ava snapped him off with a wave of her hand, "Don't worry about it. The cleaning lady comes on Thursdays anyway. She's seen worse."

Ben wasn't sure if she was kidding or not, but her laid-back attitude to his worry made him question the type of life she had. Did she frequently bring guests back to her parents' place for meetings like this? The idea caused an unanticipated jealously in his chest that he sought to control right away.

Ava sat up somewhat, her cock remained remarkably straight despite her previous climax. She grabbed for her shaft and raised it toward Ben as he stood above her, more cum flowing from his well used hole. He was surprised when she began running the head of it over his leaking entrance, as though she were painting herself with the fleeing liquids.

"Look at you," she murmured, her eyes dark with renewed desire. "Still dripping with me. So fucking hot."

Ben's body was aroused again by the harsh words and the gentle brush of her cock on his sensitive rim. His own dick, which had started to soften, sprang back to life and answered her touch with unseemly desire. He stopped himself from biting his lip and considered the unimaginable: leaning back on her great length and letting her enter him once again despite the soreness starting to show itself.

A sound from the front of the house froze them both in place before he could decide. The definite click of a door opening, then footsteps on marble floors. Then, a woman's voice, clear and cheerful, called out: "Honey, we're home!"

Ben felt his blood turn to ice. He looked over his shoulder at Ava, his eyes wide with panic. Her parents weren't supposed to be back for days -- she'd said so herself. Here they were, presumably returning early, about to walk in on their daughter and her colleague in the most compromising position possible.

Ben anticipated Ava to panic as well, to shove him away and run for her clothing, in that instant of pure horror. Rather, she exuded a look of cheeky enjoyment. Her hands sprang out and grasped his hips once again before Ben could react, before he could even start to get away.

Ben tried to fight, but he soon found himself gently lowered onto her massive cock--Ava's power indisputable. Ben was filled once more and staggered as the slow entry was a moist and deliberate invasion. He was stretched and filled, a ragged cry breaking out from his lungs as the insertion was a relentless, slick impalement. His cum-soaked opening yielded with a lewd, sucking sound, a brutal symphony to his ears. His once sensitive insides enhanced the experience, and he tightened his teeth to try to stifle any moans that might have escaped.

She only grinned up at him, her eyes shining with a perilous eagerness as the sound of feet became closer. Her hips gave a little, intentional shove that pushed her cock even more within him and caused another suppressed moan from his throat.