Chapter 4 Orgasm Disappointments

Chapter 4

Freda

Woah," I gasped, staring at this new, confident side of him.

Ken kissed me full and hard, with more passion than I had ever experienced before. He carried me over to the couch where we crashed on top of one another, our limbs wrapped around each other in the tightest of contortions.

He pulled away to catch a breath. "We're supposed to be in a hurry to pack, you know."

"Well, we better make it quick then," I growled, climbing on top of him and slowly, deliberately rubbing my clit on his throbbing erection. He hissed with pleasure, his hands climbing up inside my dress to massage my breasts.

Feeling surprisingly at ease, I sat up and took off my dress in one smooth motion. He stared at me, his lips parted and eyes stormy with lust. I pulled at his shirt till he took it off, and then I began to work on his belt, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down.

Suddenly, Ken grabbed my waist and flipped me over so he was on top, his muscular arms caging me to the bed. His breath was hot against my skin as he kissed me up and down, his hands exploring every part of my body. I felt his hand trail down the center of my breasts, down my stomach, and hover over my clit. Without warning, he hooked his finger inside my panties and slipped them off, lifting up my legs with his arms so he could pull them free.

His skin gleamed with sweat, his arms pulling me toward him with what felt like practiced ease. My hands spasmed and curled in his hair when I felt his thumb press my clit and begin to rub in circles. My toes were curled tight, legs wrapped around his muscular torso...if I didn't hold on to something, I would roll right off the couch.

Ken cupped his hand around my jaw slowly, his eyes boring into mine with unerring intensity. Slowly, I felt him slide into me as he began to rub faster and faster.

"Oh, fuck!" I growled, pulling him closer, unable to stop desire from coursing through my veins like untamed fire. Ken gasped, a most delectable sound that made me shiver. He rammed into me over and over again, never taking his attention off of my clit.

Whoever taught him knew what they were doing, I thought as I felt that familiar feeling I had craved for so long on the horizon. With each thrust, he pushed me closer and closer to the edge, until I couldn't take the waiting anymore. My nails dug into his skin as I came closer and closer to the tipping point. I felt my back arch and spots enter my vision and then, so abruptly that I didn't even realize it happened, Ken pulled out.

I stared blankly at him. He seemed to not even notice me as he stood up and skipped over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I sat up on my elbows and looked at the door, waiting for him to come out. Was he peeing?

I chewed on my lip impatiently. I wanted his hands on me, and his dick in me.

"Uh, Ken ?" I called.

I heard the door lock click open, and he stepped out.

"Wow, Freda," he said. "That was fucking amazing."

He looked so unbelievably delicious, I crept forward on the couch to reach him. Shockingly, he started to put his pants back on. What? I watched as he buttoned his jeans, pulled his belt around, and began to hunt for his shirt.

"Um, hello?" I asked.

He glanced at me. "Yeah?"

I shrugged, trying to take a few seconds to think of how to frame my question. It was kind of a delicate situation.

"Did you cum in the bathroom?" I blurted.

He looked confused. "Uh, yeah? We weren't using a condom, and I didn't want to take the risk."

I gave a little understanding laugh. "That's well and good, but what about my orgasm?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Oh. Didn't you cum?"

"Nuh-huh," I complained, pulling my dress off the floor and throwing it on.

He looked even more confused and uncertain. He pulled on his shirt and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to say..."

Is this guy serious?

"I don't know how to really tell if-if you're done..."

What is he, a virgin?

"'Cause I haven't exactly slept with anyone before."

My mouth fell open. Was he fucking serious?

"Are you telling me you're a 24-year-old virgin?" I asked him.

"22," he said. "I skipped two grades. That's why you never met me till eighth grade."

I opened my mouth to question him further when I heard the doorbell ring. Ken was standing closer to the door so he walked over to open it. I twisted my mouth and sat down, irritated by the orgasm I almost had. I glanced over to look at whoever was at the door and felt my blood turn to ice in an instant.

Drake stood at the doorway, a large purple blotch on the right side of his chin. He was glaring at Ken with withering, but controlled rage. I could tell he was sober. I felt the night's events crashing back on me. I'd kept them at bay by distracting myself as thoroughly as I could have.

And now, it stared me in the face.

Don't break, Freda, I said to myself, gritting my teeth as I stared at Drake's profile.

"What is he doing here?" Drake asked me, his voice sharp as whiplash.

"He's helping me pack," I said confidently. My eyes, meanwhile, scoured the living room for any sign that we had sex. Apart from the messed up pillows, everything was normal.

"Pack?" he asked me, stalking in.

I took a deep breath. "Yes. I'm going to live with Trench till I find my own place."

He narrowed his eyes on me. I was not one for unnecessary ultimatums or threats, and he had never seen me behave this way before. Suspiciously, he turned to look at Ken , who stood still and straight as a ramrod in the background.

"Did you talk her into this?" he asked Ken menacingly.

"I made my own decisions," I said sharply. He ignored me and continued to glare at Ken , who was starting to look deeply uncomfortable.

"Tell me," Drake said. "Did you fuck her?"

Ken flinched. "What?"

"Freda. Did you fuck Freda?"

"Drake, you cannot fucking talk about me like I'm not standing right here!" I said, my rage mounting fast.

"I came here to make sure you didn't try to beat her again," Ken retorted, the veins in his neck popping.

"Your mother took me to a hospital after your little stunt and had the liquor pulled out of my system," Drake told him. "She's a nice lady. Does she know what a piece of shit son she has?"

"SHUT UP!" I screamed, my heart thudding in my chest like a heavy drum.

Both men whipped around to look at me, alarmed by my sudden shriek. I wasn't about to let Drake turn this into some kind of penis contest where he could ignore the reality of what he had done to me for the last five years and have another fight with someone just to kill time.

"Ken , I think you should leave," I said.

He looked at me with shock. "You want to be alone with this guy?"

"I can't sort out my shit with you standing there, okay!"

"What if he attacks you again?" he demanded.

I stormed into the kitchen with long strides and pulled out a knife, feeling almost maniacal. I clutched the weapon and raced back to stare Drake in the face.

"If he touches me, I'll fucking kill him," I seethed. "I'll fucking murder him, and I won't look back, so you can rest easy. I will be just fine."

"Fine," Ken mumbled, grabbing his phone off my coffee table. Giving me one look that was part anger, part something else I couldn't quite put my finger on, he stalked out of my house, slamming the door shut behind him.

Was he mad at me? He was only trying to protect me. Was he...

I shook my head. I had to focus. I lifted my eyes to Drake's, my knife clutched tight in my fingers. One final time, I tried to reconcile the man before me with the hazel-eyed sweetheart I had met when I was 14.

We were lovers turned strangers.

Pulling on the sheer number of times I had daydreamed about this exact moment, I raised my head high and spoke. "Drake Dunst, we are breaking up. Take your shit and get out."