Chapter 4: Challenge Accepted
D.C. Girl likes to smoke pot…Like, a lot of pot. I’m a bit more than a casual smoker, as I mostly use it as a sleep agent these days.
She is on the opposite end of the spectrum. She can function completely while she’s high, so she smokes quite a bit on a daily basis.
All of this is to say that by the time I was done freshening up after our first fuck in over a year, she’s puffing away on a joint by the time I return.
A quick time check confirms it’s 10:38 p.m.
I join her in bed, and we share the joint. We start to reminisce for the first time since I’ve arrived.
We talk about our careers, her upcoming move, the state of our respective worlds in general. She asks if I still have the playlist I made for the trip we took for her birthday when we were together. I reply that I do, and I throw it on.
We get out of bed around 11 for food, and the best option for us at this point is a frozen pizza.
As we’re waiting for that to be done, the conversation takes a more serious angle.
“You know I’ve missed you” she says.
“I’ve missed you too” I reply.
“I came close to reaching out so many times, but…things would always come up” she says as she pours us both a glass of wine.
“Yeah, same here” I tell her as I accept the glass she’s handing out to me.
Awkward silence sets in. I’m stoned, happy, and remorseful all at once. I hate the idea of wasting things. Anything really. But there are few things I hate more than waisting time and experiences.
I start to hate myself for not pursuing her again sooner. For allowing so much time to pass between us. And I hate the fact that soon she’ll be gone, moving away at the end of the summer. And there’s nothing I can do to change that. I’ve wasted too much time.
She can see it on my face. The forced regret. I hate when she can see how I feel. I’ve always hated that about myself. My lack of a functional poker face.
She curls up next to me on the couch. Once again she’s playing with my hair. She knows that this is the most soothing activity that doesn’t involve me being inside of her. I’ve missed the head rubs almost as much as everything else I’ve missed about her.
“Knife” by Grizzly Bear is playing in the background of her dark living room.
As we’re sitting on her couch, our bodies intertwined like some form of the best human pretzel I’ve ever been attached to, my mind is racing.
The “real/normal” version of myself creeps out more and more. That bastard has picked the lock and escaped from the cage again. Kind, affectionate, loving. All of these emotions are freely on display. My guard is officially down.
Over the next several hours we continue to pass more joints between the two of us. We refill on wine multiple times (she bought four bottles in anticipation of my arrival). The conversation is free flowing.
As we’re talking I remember why I was drawn to her to begin with. Her body is fantastic, but like any woman I’ve ever formed any worthwhile connection with, it’s what’s between her ears that turns me on the most.
I remember that we’re on a clock. I always feel like I’m on a clock. Time always moves. It waits for no one or anything. This springs me into action again.
I start to give her a foot massage. She moans and says what I was hoping to hear. “I missed these so much. Your hands are perfect”. She slowly starts to rub the foot I’m not massaging against the inside of my thigh. My cock begins to swell again.
“You know I’m not done with you tonight, right?” I tell her as I’m rubbing the middle of the sole of her foot with my thumb.
“Oh is that so sir?” she says with a pouty tone.
“C’mon, don’t play. You know you’ve got more for me. And I’m done taking it easy on you” I coldly tell her.
“Hmmm…I see” she tells me as reaches down and squeezes my hardening cock with her tiny white hand. She stands up and takes my hand, and I slowly ride off the couch.
“Do your worst, sir” she says. She’s smirking as she reaches up for another kiss, which I deliver on command.
She guides me back to the bedroom. We take our time taking each other’s clothes off, giggling like teenagers between kisses as our garments hit the floor.
She lays down on the bed, with her head hanging off the edge. I know exactly what this means. She confided long ago that’s this is her favorite position for giving head.
I lower myself over her face. She starts licking and sucking on my balls. Alternating each of them into her mouth. I bend over her body and reach down to her clit, so I can start my slow, but stable rubbing routine again.
For now I’ll let her be the aggressor. But only for now.
She starts to work my cock until her mouth. I start to moan, the first time I can remember doing so. I put one leg on the bed, and I slowly lower my cock deeper down her throat. She’s taking all of me now.
I slowly begin to piston my cock in and out of her throat. She gags, but fights through it. She never once asks for a break to catch air. My D.C. Girl.
I’m pumping her throat harder now. I can feel the saliva leaking from her mouth. I feel an orgasm building, so I stop. Not yet. I have other goals to achieve. It’s my turn to flip the power dynamic between us again.
“Turn around, put that fucking ass in the air” I bark at her.
She does, wiggling it in my face as she settles.
I know that the playful wiggle means she’s daring me to pound her pussy. I flash back to her recent challenge – “do your worst, sir”. Challenge accepted slut.
Per my usual routine, I enter her as deep as I can in one stroke. She moans “mmmm God it’s so fucking deep sir. Fuck you keep filling me up”.
I slowly lean over her and turn her face to meet mine, making a point to lock eyes with her in the moment.
“You think God can help you tonight slut?” I sternly whisper into her ear.
I start stroking her hard. My balls begin slapping loudly against her pussy. She’s grabbing a fistful of the comforter with one hand, and trying to reach back to slow my pace with the other. Her tiny arms come nowhere near being able to reach me. Knowing this fact affirms I can’t and won’t be stopped.
As I’m pounding away deep inside of her, I have an idea that seems achievable, now that both of us are in better shape than we were when we first met.
I angle both of my hands between her legs to pull her further back towards my cock.
I slowly start to left her legs off the bed while I’m stroking her. She instantly whips her face around and looks at me.
This look isn’t playful or seductive, it’s concerning. She’s worried. This kicks me into a different gear. Her being worried about the power of both my, now stronger body and cock is exactly what I wanted.
I lift her further off the bed. The only parts of her body touching the bed now are her face and forearms.
She tries again to reach back, causing her face to fall completely in the bed. She recovers and props herself by her forearms.
“Oww! I…i don’t know if I can. Sir, please” she begs.
I respond by lifting her legs higher off the bed.
“Do my worst, huh slut?” is my sole reply.
With the lower half of her tiny body completely suspended off the bed, I start to pound her with no mercy.
My arms are starting to get tired, but this position feels too good for me to even consider stopping. Partly because of the angle, but mostly because I know this is pressing her limits. Knowing she can barely handle this suspended air pussy pounding pushes me over the edge, and I cum deep inside of her.
I let her loose and she collapses on the bed and almost starts running away from me.
Her hair is a mess, she’s covered in sweat, and her face, even in the darkness of the room, I can tell, is flushed red.
“Whoa. You’ve never fucked me like that before. Who are you ??”.
I join her on the bed. “I’ve always been whatever you need me to be. You know that”.
She kisses me deep, and then rests her head on my chest. I’m coming back to reality. Exhaustion is starting to set in.
I tell her how much fun I’m having. I thank her for allowing me to come by.
It’s 1:17 a.m. “Space Song” by Beach House is playing from our playlist in the background
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/uikvu8/the_dc_girl_chronicles_reunion_chapter_4_mf