Iris (The Wild Side)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Five days after we parted ways in the casino, she showed up at my door in the middle of the night.
She was in a tigress of a mood, and I was in just the right kind of mood myself to indulge her.
“How long can you stay this time?” I asked, as I let her in.
She was already striding to the stairs, obviously heading straight for the bedroom. “Not as long as I’d like.”
It was a frustrating answer, but I knew just how I wanted to take out my frustration.
I was right on her tail as she made it into the room.
My hands went to the hem of my T-shirt.
She turned and stopped my hands with hers.
“Let me,” she pleaded, in a voice that brooked no refusal.
Of course, I complied.
She pulled just my arms out of my shirt, leaving the collar around my neck, pulling it taut, and wrapping it around her fist twice.
Cutting off just enough air to leave me slightly light-headed.
She slackened it almost instantly, stepping back and letting the material loose.
I reached for it, meaning to shrug it off, but she stopped me with a shake of her head.
I took off my pants instead. And my boxers.
I was fast, but she was faster, naked and pressing against me the instant I caught up. She pushed me onto the chaise lounge near one of the room’s large windows, taking me down until I was lying on my back.
She mounted me, teasing her wet cleft over the length of my erection, sliding up it until she’d pinned it flush with my stomach.
I grunted and bucked up, jostling her. She barely budged, as she already had a hold of my shirt again, using it as a handle while she straddled me.
My hands went to her hips. I was all for fun and games, but I needed her cunt, the sooner the better.
She managed to distract me from my course, still sliding over me, not letting me in, sinking down until her p-ssy was hugging my scrotum, until I could feel the wet heat of her on the most sensitive part of me.
Her free hand guided first one and then both of mine up to her tits. Only when I had a firm hold on each did she take me inside of her.
She rode me, using the shirt still wrapped my neck like reins.
I bucked up at her roughly, giving her a hell of a ride.
She shifted, and started working me at a different angle that had my eyes rolling back in my head and my balls tightening, getting ready to empty in seconds.
I held off until she orgasmed, barely, and then came deep inside of her.
She kept working my cock, even after, just moving on it like she never wanted to leave.
“You’re insatiable,” I told her, rubbing her thighs.
“Only for you,” she told me.


Hours later, sated, exhausted, I lay in bed, wide-awake.
Something was bothering me.
Enough that I couldn’t sleep, instead I just lay there, her soft blonde head on my chest, while the evidence circled.
In all fairness, it had been bothering me for a while, but somehow, that night, I just couldn’t stop thinking—obsessing about it.
Exhibit A: Something she’d said, months ago, but still, she’d said it.
The bit about, ‘Oh yeah, I’m twenty-four, right?’
Yeah, that bit. And the fact that she’d said something similar more than once.
Exhibit B: Turner’s theory that she was much younger than she claimed.
He’d seemed so sure.
Exhibit C: The fact that she refused to show me her ID again.
All of it was enough to have me worried, but the fact that I knew she made a habit of lying was the cement that had me taking action.
I slipped out of bed, slowly, carefully, so as not to disturb her.
I needed to check out her ID again.
Just to study it a little harder.
For peace of mind.
I could recall the big yellow purse she used left in the entryway. That’s what I needed to look at.
I padded quietly through the house in nothing but my boxers, thinking that my life had taken a very strange turn.
I grabbed the bag where it lay on the floor, opened it, and stopped.
I went into the nearest bathroom, shut and then locked the door. I felt like enough of a bastard for invading her privacy. The last thing I wanted was to get caught doing it and then have to explain why.
I found her little pink wallet, took out her ID, and studied it for a good five minutes, turning the lights to bright, tilting it this way and that.
It looked almost perfect, but there was one small flaw along the side of her picture. It was so tiny, so minuscule of a line, that it could have been nothing.
But it just happened to run the entire length of the picture.
I almost let it go, but some devil had me searching the rest of her bag. I checked every pocket, and came up with nothing out of place. Some hand sanitizer, tissues, her tiny neon bikini, and lots of makeup,
No credit cards, though there was plenty of cash. A ridiculous amount of cash, actually, but that was no surprise at this point, so I didn’t linger on it.
I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t seem to stop searching, going along the lining of her bag, feeling for some secret.
Turns out, I was right to be vigilant.
A thick, heavy bulge (maybe a large wallet?) was in the lining.
Sown in.
Going for broke, I ripped it.
It was not a wallet, but three passports and eight (I counted them three times) driver’s licenses were stacked into a sandwich sized Ziploc bag.
I just stood there and stared at them for the longest time, not believing that my paranoia had actually been leading me in the right direction.
I was horrified as I began to study each one.
So many names and birth dates.
The birth dates concerned me the most.
By far.
One of them placed her as young as sixteen.
I felt sick to my stomach as I stalked up to my room, evidence in hand.
I had a pain in my temple that was turning into a great black void in my vision.
“Iris,” I growled, turning on every light in the room, stalking through it like a madman.
She shifted onto her back, not opening her eyes, and parted her legs, like she was ready to be taken. “Dair,” she murmured, one hand moving down to rub her *, getting nice and ready for me. The other squeezed one of her pert breasts, puckering the nipple for me.
Even with what I’d just learned, I had to restrain myself from f*cking her then and there.
Instead, I lost my temper.
Just lost it.
Flinging all of the cards, those lies of hers, onto her naked body, followed by her yellow bag, I began to pace as she woke up with a start, looking confused as she studied the small objects I’d assaulted her with.
“You’ve been busy,” she said wryly, her voice still rough with sleep. “Do you know what a pain in the ass it was to sew them into the seam?
“Is that all you have to say to me? What the f*ck is this? What are they for? What are you playing at? And are any of them real?”
“Why don’t you just ask what you really want to? Is the one that pins me at sixteen real?”
I was shaking in rage.
My voice was trembling with it.
“Is it?” I was terrified to ask, because her answer could ruin me.
“Does it matter? You’ve f*cked me every which way, Dair. The damage is already done, don’t you think?”
“Get out!” I shouted.
I felt beyond my limits.
I didn’t trust myself.
I’d never felt this betrayed before, not even when I’d caught my wife with another man.
What was it about this that I just couldn’t take?
Her reaction was infuriating, because there was none.
She quietly gathered up her things, the things that I’d thrown around like a maniac, shoved them in her bag, and then walked into my closet.
When she walked out of the closet not a minute later, fully dressed and obviously planning to leave, I felt instant and extreme remorse.
“I didn’t mean it,” I ground out. “Don’t go. Not like this. Let’s talk about this.”
Her face was devoid of emotion, but her voice was resigned. “No, I think this is for the best. There’s really nothing to talk about. It’s just what it looks like. I’ve lied about my identity and my age.”
“Don’t,” I whispered, but she walked out of the room.
I followed her. I tried to take her bag from her at the top of the stairs.
We had a brief struggle before she let me have it, simply moving ahead without it.
I carried it down, still hot on her heels.
I dropped it as we neared the front door.
Some wild beast got ahold of me, and I wrenched her shirt off, leaving her in only a thin lace bra.
She kept moving, intent to leave, even without the essentials.
Like a maniac, I dragged her to the couch, pushing her down to straddle her hips, pinning her there.
She wouldn’t look at me.
“Stop this,” I told her, gripping her shoulders and shaking her slightly.
“You told me to leave. I won’t be told twice.”
“Just swear to me you aren’t sixteen. Swear you’re at least older than eighteen. That’s the part I have to know.”
“Sixteen is the legal age of consent in Nevada.”
I wanted to rip my hair out.
What was she saying? “So you’re only . . . ?”
Her mouth twisted wryly, but she still didn’t look at me. “I’m over eighteen, okay? The IDs aren’t for that purpose. They’re to hide my identity, not my age.”
“Swear it. Look me in the eye and swear to me that you’re over eighteen.”
She did, her eyes steady, voice even. “I swear.”
I knew she was a liar. Knew it. It was a fact that she’d lied to me before.
So why did I believe her now?
I couldn’t have said why, but I did believe her, and in that moment, it was enough.
And I was just as certain that she’d never explain all of those IDs to me, so I didn’t even ask.
She counted cards at casinos and had been shot with a gun before. Of course she’d have multiple identities. It was so Iris.
I kissed her, my hands going to her shorts, yanking them down, my relief so huge that it could only be expressed in one way.
She backed away from me, turning onto her stomach, then her knees. I thought at first that she was still trying to leave, but her shaking hands pulling her shorts down assured me that we were back on the same page.
I covered her, taking her from behind.
She was wet, but at that angle, I still had to ease in slowly at first.
I was halfway in when she moaned and arched her back.
My hands fondled her breasts as I shoved home roughly.
We f*cked like animals in heat, moaning and keening.
I had her screaming by the end. I couldn’t get enough, and even when I shot my load deep inside of her, I kept thrusting.
“You should get off birth control,” I growled, my brain misfiring in all directions. “I want to get you pregnant.”
She took it well, at least, laughing instead of running in terror.
I mean, I was half-tempted to run, and it had come out of my stupid mouth.
“Slow down there,” she said wryly. “What’s the rush? Do you have any clue how young I am?”
She had a twisted sense of humor, to be sure.
I slipped out of her. My cock was so wet that it was dripping as I dragged free of her. It got me going again, just the sight and feel.
Having her ass pointed at me didn’t help, either.
I pushed at her rear entrance, dragging a trail of moisture up from her p-ssy and lubricating her liberally.
I didn’t ask permission, just started pushing my cock into her ass.
I figured I’d stop if she told me no.
She didn’t.
Instead, she braced herself on the arm of the couch and let me f*ck her ass. I don’t know what made me do it. It wasn’t something I’d done before.
I mean, I’d watched a porn or two with hot chicks getting anal, but that was it. I’d never thought of doing it in real life, never thought I’d have a partner that I’d be comfortable enough expressing my curiosity about it.
Tammy would have called me a pervert, for sure.
Iris wasn’t like that. She was so giving as a lover that I was never afraid to show her exactly what I wanted. And she had, after all, said I could do it any time.
I instantly understood what all the fuss was about.
It was a tight, quick ride.
My only complaint was that I couldn’t f*ck her as hard as I wanted to like that. I didn’t want to hurt her, and she whimpered a few times, whimpers that I wasn’t sure came all from pleasure.
“That second time was no way to get me pregnant,” she told me as I dragged myself out of her.
I laughed, kissing her cheek. “I love you,” I told her, feeling it down to my soul.
It was a crazy thing to say, but I couldn’t hold it back. And it was far from the craziest thing I’d said that night.
She turned and hugged me hard. “You are the sweetest man. I’m so happy I found you.”
In terms of possible reactions, it wasn’t the worst thing she could’ve said. An I love you back would have been nice, but I’d take what I could get.
And it wasn’t like she hadn’t said it to me before.
We were clean and naked in bed a bit later. I was just on the edge of sleep, her sweet head on my chest, when I heard her murmur, “I love you, too. Always will.”
Of course when I woke up and she was gone, yet again, the next morning, I wasn’t sure that last bit hadn’t been a dream.