Hunger & Appetite

"Would you like to see the dessert menu?" The waitress asked politely as she cleared their plates from the table.

Richard barely looked up from his phone as he said, "No, thank you. Just the bill, please."

The waitress gave Heather an almost pitiful smile as she bustled away. Heather knew exactly what the girl was thinking.

Darling, why are you with this jackass?

Heather couldn't blame her for thinking that. From the moment they had been seated, Richard had been on his phone. His thumbs moved slowly and precisely as he sent message after message. He had ordered them both the smallest, cheapest meal on the menu. No appetizer. No dessert, and only tap water to drink.

Heather had not bothered with trying to start a conversation. Instead, she had been on her phone as well. To anyone watching them, they looked like a perfectly miserable couple who were barely tolerating each other on date night.

They would have been very wrong.

Heather had known that Richard was hungry the second he walked down the stairs wearing his black trousers, white shirt, and suspenders. He had told her that they were going out to eat, and she was to wear the navy blue button-down dress he had chosen for her.

That dress.

Giddy with excitement, she had run upstairs and started changing out of her sweats and top. He had followed her and watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame. She could feel his gaze scanning every inch of her back as she got naked. His impatience was palpable, caged behind bars of self-control. She could have teased him. Moved with slow, erotic grace and tried to coerce him to take her right then. But she didn't want to ruin the game for herself.

"No." He commanded, as she hooked a thumb under the elastic of her panties.

She left them on.

"Hurry up."

She did.

Throwing the dress over her body and pulling her hair into a loose ponytail, Heather was as ready as Richard wanted her to be.

He handed her the phone, which she slipped into the pocket of her dress.

"Is the Uber outside?" She asked

He nodded.

Of course it was.

She sat in silence in the Uber, listening to Richard speak with the driver. He had started by asking the driver how busy his day had been. Naturally, the conversation switched to where the driver asked Richard what he did for work. This was where the game began.

"I'm a dog trainer for the police", Richard said. It was a complete fabrication, and the driver was none the wiser. "I specialise in obedience and compliance. Although they have been domesticated, people tend to forget that there is still a wild nature to them. The trick is to reward that nature after they have been good and followed commands. After a while, they learn to love obedience because it becomes part of who they are. The thing is, though, if you get one that is particularly frisky, you have to set firm expectations. They have to know they won't get what they want if they misbehave."

The driver feigned interest and agreed with Richard, then began discussing dangerous dog breeds. Healther stirred in her seat, gently rubbing her thighs together without Richard noticing. The blatant exhibition of his intent, the coded message for her, the sheer audacity that he could make something so lewd seem like normal conversation. She loved it when he was hungry for her.

During dinner, his messages to her had been utter filth. He had demanded to know how she intended to suck his cock. She had told him. He inquired to know if she had any preference on whether he used her pussy or her ass. She said both. He described exactly how he was going to leave her a shuddering mess on the floor. She sent nothing.

She didn't have to.

Richard watched her over the lip of his phone. Heather let him see her. The quick, shallow breaths. The occasional squirming in her seat. She was hot, bothered, and wanted nothing more than to be at home, with Richard's cock tearing primal noises from her wet and aching holes.

Richard sent one last message as the bill arrived.

"You are going to go to the bathroom. Remove your underwear and give them to me without anyone noticing."

Heather's heart leaped into her throat in excitement, and she felt warm arousal flood between her legs. Standing, she held onto the back of the chair for support. Already, her knees were weak from excitement. Felt like a newborn deer as she trotted across the restaurant. No one knew what she was about to do except the one man who had told her to do it, watching her, like a wolf in the forest.

In the bathroom, Heather worked quickly to accomplish her task. Slipping her underwear off, she dreaded to look at the mess he had caused. They were soaked. The entire gusset was a darker shade of black compared to the rest of the garment. Heather balled them up in her fist and flattened the hem of her dress against her thighs.

"I could make him wait," Heather thought. She imagined touching herself, coming out of the bathroom with rosy cheeks and a smile on her lips. The satisfaction wouldn't have been due to her own release, but rather at the thought of defying Richard without him being able to do a damn thing about it. Maybe she would take pictures and send them. Or, better yet, FaceTime him her whole performance. She imagined him just having to sit there, aroused, semi-erect, but keeping his passions under control. Heather giggled at the thought.

Her phone buzzed.

A message from Richard.

"If you touch yourself now, you WILL NOT cum tonight". Heather's smile broadened into a wild grin.

"He knows me far too well".

Traipsing back through the restaurant, she locked eyes with her man. A wry smirk grew from his lips. His eyes narrowed, content that she had followed instructions. Heather almost purred at the way he devoured her with that look.

Holding out his hand to take hers in an almost gentlemanly show, Heather slipped her marked panties into his palm. The couple turned towards the exit. Heather exchanged sides, allowing Richard to act like he was scratching his nose, before dipping his hand into his pocket.

She knew just how much he enjoyed her scent.

"Where's the Uber?" Heather asked as they stepped onto Main Street. Her arm was tucked into the crook of his, and they stood as the very picture of a romantic couple framed by the setting sun. People milled around them, wandering from shops closing for the evening and into bars and restaurants. Despite the hubbub, Heather felt as if no one else existed, apart from Richard.

"There isn't an Uber." He said, "It's a beautiful evening and we are going for a walk through the park."

Stepping off with his left foot, Richard's momentum pulled Heather softly into following him.

"Richard, there's a chill in the air," Heather complained. She heard the needy whine in her throat, and thought it would expedite the application of warm, hard, cock to her cooling netherregion. He marched on, unswayed by her protest. She followed, feeling tiny waves of disappointment echo inside her. She decided that it was unfair that he had first denied her release and then decided she needed to cool off. Richard would have to be punished for this betrayal when they got home.

A hickey sounded like a good idea. A bright red mark just where the collar of his work shirt would sit. Something embarrassing that he would have to hide for days. Giving Richard a love bite would also come with the added benefit of annoying him, and it had been too long since he had called her a cunt while they fucked.

Richard slid her another side-long glance, and Heather wasn't entirely sure that he couldn't read her mind.

"I know. It's also a bit breezy out. It would be a terrible shame if your dress was lifted up."

Heather forgot all about her plan and cuddled into Richard as he paraded her through the park.

Cold fingers on the wind snatched at the hem of her dress. She could feel the fabric riding high and falling against her thighs as they walked. The sensation of the dress against her skin, coupled with the sheer risk of exposure, made Heather giddy. So giddy that she was almost dripping at the thought of Richard taking her over a fallen tree. She would have been proud to have walked the entire way home with his cum glistening on her inner thighs.

"God, I want you to break me when we get home," Heather said, unable to contain herself any longer.

"Behave yourself," chuckled Richard. It was a deep, resonant sound that filled the evening with his warmth. "I'm ordering the Uber now."

"No," Heather snapped. "I have been well behaved all fucking evening. You are going to stretch my holes to the shape of your cock and fuck me into a mindless sopping mess. Do you understand me, mister?"

Two joggers glided past as she spoke. Heather was convinced they overheard some of what she said by the way their conversation died down. She no longer cared who knew about her slutty pleasures. She wanted dick, and she wanted it now.

The Uber ride home was an exercise in frustration. Unlike the ride down, Richard did not speak to the driver. He just sat there, stinking of cologne and man. Heather could feel the warmth of his body, thick and palpable, in the back of the car. His hand rested on her thigh, softly brushing a nail against the inside of her leg. Lightning cracks of pleasure shot through Heather with each stroke. The rumbling engine added a deep, bassy, thrum to the orchestra of her arousal.

"Why. The. Fuck. Didn't. This. Cunt. Order. A. Tesla?"

Without the sound of Richard's voice to focus on, Heather could feel her frustration rising. She tried to focus on something, anything, to stop her from digging nails into her own leg. The only thing worth focusing on was the feeling of her wetness as she jiggled in the seat. Then, the thought came unbidden.

"Can he smell me?"

Was Richard sitting there basking in her scent as much as she was enjoying his? Could it be that his silence was because the primal horny pheromones in the back of the car had brought him as much to the edge as she was? She thought about the pair of them, sitting there, like a sexual tinderbox ready to ignite. One wrong word, one misplaced touch, risked seeing them abandon all humility and rut like beasts.

He would do it.

She would too.

The only thing that stopped them was that neither wanted to be the first to break.

Stepping from the Uber, Richard and Heather ran to their front door. The keys in Richard's trembling hand missed the lock's slit twice before he finally rammed it home. The door flew open and the pair were upon each other before they stepped over the threshold. Richard kicked the door closed as Heather tore his shirt open and sank her teeth into his chest.

The growl that came from Richard's throat would have been terrifying, but Heather was so completely occupied by the moment that she did not care. He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her off him. The sudden tightness from his powerful hands choked the sensation from her legs, and she almost stumbled. But she didn't. Holding her up, Richard pinned Heather against the wall with a thud. Artwork shook on hooks at the force of their passion.

Richard was power set free. Heather was yearning to be unleashed. The pair was a flurry of hands, nails, and teeth as they played their passion out upon one another.

Torn clothes fell from them as useless rags as Heather and Richard fucked their way to the bedroom. Kicking the door almost off the hinges, Richard dragged Heather by her hair and threw her on the bed. She landed face down, panting heavily as the boundary between pain and pleasure eroded. She tried to push herself up onto her knees so that Richard could examine his prize.

He did not give her the chance.

Entering her with the full force of his frustration, his cock reset Heather's mind. For a moment, the world stopped. She could not breathe, could not think, could not even attempt the guttural howl she had planned for. Suddenly, all sensation came crashing back to reality, and she was overwhelmed by the feeling of him. Inside her, Richard stoked the fire of her orgasm. On top of her, his weight bore her down and claimed her.

She thrashed and raged against him, using him to work her climax. There were no words exchanged between them, only the sounds ripping from their throats complemented by the wet smack of skin on skin. They fucked at a pace which optimised the brutality of their passion, with each deep stroke building to the crescendo. Heather came in a violent fit of shaking and screaming, soaking the sheets with her release.

She sobbed once as Richard pulled out, her senses heightened to a point of almost being numb. Heather tried to catch her breath, but Richard denied her that pleasure. His cock plunged into her ass, deep and unrelenting. Heather threw her head back with the pain, loving every inch of it. A desperate wail bubbled up from her chest, but Richard stifled it with three fingers down her throat. She cried and she gagged as Richard worked her through the suffering to reach the enjoyment of simply being used.

Richard roared with bestial intensity and his thick cock swelled to a monstrous size as he came. With each wracking shudder, he pumped more of himself into Heather and she greedily ate it up. His strength waning, Richard detached himself from her, and flopped on the bed by her side. They lay there together for a long while, neither of them capable of much more than panting, breathing in the aroma of their debauchery.

Helen laughed first, then Richard, as the two of them embraced each other.

"What got into you tonight?" Helen asked, resting her head on his sweaty chest.

"I have no idea," he said, "I guess I was just hungry."