Then, Michelle whispers out the magical words, “I want you to cum, Cal.” She’s begging me, pleading with me, “Fuck me! Fuck me so hard! Oh God, I need it! I want it!” I pull her head up to mine, kissing her as I feel her body collapse again in one ball of tense energy before it relaxes. “Fuck me, Cal,” she mutters, “Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum in me. Cum in my *.”
I follow her lead, ramping up my rhythm, pounding away inside her warm *. “You want my cum, baby?” I whisper, and she bites her lip. “Yeah, you want my cum in you? I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum so hard in you.” I’m doing this for real, letting myself go inside of her. She reels forward as I thrust three hard, slow, final pushes of my cock into her tired and pulsating *. Then I feel it, a surge as my cock explodes in her, pushing my cum up into her. I fall on her back, holding her hands in mine. I can feel her chest under me heave from the effort. After one long, agonizing minute of neither of us knowing what to do, I pull back a few strands of her hair and whisper, “You’re going to want to clean yourself up, Miss Springer.”
She doesn’t move, but I can see her face go from ecstasy to anger all over again. She’s remembering just who she is dealing with here as she spins and pushes me out of her. “You are one of the worst men I’ve ever met in my entire life. If it weren’t for Maddie…” She stumbles over her words as she tries to collect her panties from the linoleum floors. “If it weren’t for Maddie…”
“You wouldn’t have had the best fuck of your life yet?” I wink at her, knowing it will enrage her even more, “And that’s counting all the other times we’ve done it.”
She points a finger into my chest and looks me square in my eyes, “You, Mr. Ross, are the worst parent I have ever met in my entire life. I -- I -- I want to help your daughter, but I can’t in these conditions.”
“What conditions? That you just fucked me in the kitchen?”
“That I’m being seduced in this run down shack where your daughter is exposed to assholes like you and their drug and sex addictions!” She picks up her backpack off the floor and tosses back her hair from under the strap, “I’ve got to go. Next week, I’ll tutor Maddie at school. I’ll let her know on Monday.”
As she attempts to walk past me, I grab her arm, pulling her close to me. I lower my voice as I rumble, “Miss Springer, don’t you ever question my ability to raise my daughter again. Do I make myself entirely clear?”
She challenges right back. “Or what?” she asks boldly, a glint in her eye
I don’t have an answer.
She cocks her head and says, “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Then, she pulls herself free and walks out the door, past the men hooting and hollering at her. I walk towards the window and pull back the makeshift plywood barricade. In the darkness I watch her abandon me again, for the second time.
Chapter 17: The Choices We Make
MICHELLE
Ugh! That man. That dumb, brooding, insensitive, self-centered bastard of a man. Why does he make me want to kill him and undress him at the same time? And why do I have to give into the second one when he’s around?
That was totally not like me. Then again, I said the same thing when he fingered me in my own classroom during our supposed parent-teacher conference. Maybe this is the person I really am, and Cal’s just bringing out the worst in me. I mean, everyone has a light and dark side after all…
I adjust my panties as I drive, trying to focus on the road ahead of me. I’m speeding and going way over the limit, but the faster I can get away from him, the better. But as I pull into my driveway, I spot one of his watchers standing outside my doorway. He’s texting on his phone and smoking, his cigarette ashes falling into my nicely-trimmed hedges.
I exit the car, slamming the door. He stands at attention, dropping his cell to the side of his hips. He moves to the side, letting me get through the door as I scream at him, “You know, you don’t have to be here, kid. None of your guys do. Can you guys get the fuck off of my property?”
He looks at me perplexed. Obviously, a woman has never told him off like this, much less one totally outside his club. Still, he looks forward, keeping his emotions checked as he replies firmly, “I’ve got my orders, ma’am. I’m to stay here ‘til the next guy comes by.”
“The next guy?” I’m at my wit’s end. What does a girl have to do to get these goons far away from her and out of her life? “I don’t need a next guy! I don’t need protection! I don’t need anything but some peace and quiet! If you all don’t get off my property in the next ten minutes, I’m calling the cops and telling them everything.”
It’s a threat I can’t act on. I’m risking so much just threatening it, but it has to be said.