“ I'm so addicted to all the things
You do when you're going down on me
In between the sheets
All the sound you make
With every breath you take-” Saving Abel
Chapter 35 pt. 2- Addicted to You
”Rocksi.is.at.the.control.room.door”, said a robotic voice, sounding very similar to SIRI, serving as the electronic guard for “ORACLE” the surveillance/control room of Beverly Hills High School. Because of the huge expense and liability of the cameras and supercomputers, very few people were awarded badges with electronic chips were molded from their unique fingerprints. As a result of Rocksi's father being the creator of SIRI as well as the creator of ORACLE's “voice”, her access was grandfathered. The lovely girl of multicultural heritage, was also a computer/graphics wiz, due to her job as a game designer.
Chester, who was paid to man the controls during his lunch hour, so the other technician could have a break, looked at the screen, seeing Rocksi standing outside of the door.
”Oh, what a nice surprise, okay, let her in, “ said Chester, using the joystick that controlled the focus and zoom options of the surveillance cameras installed all over the school grounds. After spying Wilshire, who was standing outside of Bianca's private locker room holding two Louis Vuitton suitcases, Chester zoomed in, remembering the accidental show he and Rocksi had witnessed not too long ago.
”Hmmm, why would Bianca need suitcases?” asked Chester to himself, hitting a red button, putting the clarity at hi-definition. “This is worth investigating.”
After an electronic fusama- style door had opened, shutting smoothly behind her, Rocksi, shivering from the sudden blast of cold air from the AC, carefully stepped out of her expensive shoes, pushing them into a corner with her foot.
“Bumbeclot! It's cold in 'ere! You know us island people love heat!” Rocksi joked, hugging her arms around herself, the cool air going through her leather jacket. Just like the school's library and computer lab, the control room was a damn icebox.
”Hey Chester, yuh will not believe the text I got before I went to class,” she called, setting down her Louis Vuitton bookbag by her shoes. “You might fall out of your chair; bust your ass, even.” Chester, turning around in his rolling chair, smiled, always happy to see his beautiful friend, her wavy hair, seemingly having a wind of its own.
”Hello my genetically-blessed female comrade of blended origin, “ said Chester, holding out his arms for a hug. Chuckling, Rocksi leaned down, giving her favorite boy genius a strong hug, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. Chester, was probably the cutest, sweetest, most intelligent, and earnest guy in the Teen Club. Looking over his shoulder, she gasped, her mouth dropping.
”What's wrong, Rocski, was I smushing your boobs?” asked Chester, when Rocksi released him. Shaking her head, pointing to the monitor, Rocksi singled out the camera that was hidden inside Bianca's locker room. Placing her hands on her hips like a scolding school marm, Rocski, narrowing her hazel eyes at Chester, primped her lip, raising her well-arch brow.
”Well...I mean....” , Chester blushed, knowing that he'd been caught. Unable to explain his nosiness, the boy genius shrugged. “Sorry...my dad doesn't have a subscription to Penthouse, and I can't get dates, so...”
”Yuh rude, rude boi, yeh?” she scolded, her mixed accent showing through, her hazel, almond-shaped eyes, narrowing. “Don' tell mi yuh do this often.”
”I mean...It's better than downloading porn,” he squeaked, while Rocksi, her bare feet already numb with cold, walked over to the rolling chair beside him. “I mean...I haven't said anything, and I know you always keep quiet, Rocksi.”
”How..many times have yuh seem them screwing?” asked Rocksi, curiously, rubbing one of her heels. Chester, holding up one hand, began counting on his fingers.
”So far, this is only the second time I've seen them, but that's not to say they haven't done it anywhere else on school grounds,” said Chester. “I guess they like the thrill of possibly getting caught.”
“Oh I hope yuh sistah neveh catches wind of this,” said Rocski, crossing one leg over the other. “This story is jus' to juicy. Imagine if word got out that Bianca was fucking 'the help' , she emphasized, making quotation marks with two fingers on each hand. “Ghayl's life would be ovah. Wilshire would look like a champ but she'd probably leave school, dye her hair blonde, change her name, and move to Cyprus.”
”Cyprus? That is so random,” Chester remarked, leaning back in his chair, placing his clasped hands on his belly, an Apple Watch donning his wrist. “So, what's this 'peculiar text' you received?”
”Jeezum Pees ...Pierce....has asked mi to join him afterschool for a mani-pedi at Fifi's Spa and Salon,” said Rocksi, uncrossing her shivering, leather-clad legs. “Granted, I could use a good foot massage considering I was running around the luau last night in five inch heels.”
”And not missing a beat, and you looked so great doing it...wearing a sarong at that,” Chester remembered fondly. “Did you ever catch up with Shanelle and Buck? They were so cozy.”
”Oh yeah, I saw mi cousin lookin' fire 'n ice in that silver bikini. Fuckin' finally. After I made her burn that evil, ugly, dress-pant jumpsuit-evening gown shit, I sat her ass in her chair and put her on to the Venus Swimwear website,” said Rocksi with a wave of her hand. “Didn't get a chance to talk a lot, but de party tun up, and everyone was havin' fun!”
”Yeah...I wish I could rewind time and go back. Our formals aren't ever that live,” said Chester with an eyeroll. “I never gat a chance to dance at those. So, are you gonna hang out with Pierce or are you gonna decline?”
”Shhhiiddd....I may as well hang out,” Rocksi answered, pushing back a curl that was aggravating her forehead. “It'd be a good place to start to get to know 'im a little better, I mean I defend 'im so much. However, when we were on his yacht with Larke and Troy, I learned more about his fascination with Larke than about him.”
”Oh..isn't it sickening?” asked Chester with a screwed face. “The way he has pictures of her on the walls of his personal locker room...I could only imagine what his yacht could look like.”
”He has little gold statues made in his own likeness, then he has statues of Larke,” Rocksi added, shaking her foot out of habit. “It's almost creepy.”
”Creepy, but yet you still have interest in him?” asked Chester with a raised brow. “Is it the challenge that turns you on?”
”Nah, I think there's an underlying reason why he's so stuck on her. I mean you all call yuhselves a 'club' but you don't treat each other right, there's no united front. The girls don't ask yuh to dance because of yuh height and age, they shun Pierce because he's supposedly 'vain', and they treat poor Wilshire like....well now....Wat 'ave wi here?” Rocksi rambled, suddenly distracted, turning to the monitor. “ Holy shit!”
”Huh, what's the...oh hell...?” said Chester, taking a glance of his own, his jaw dropping....
”I'm so addicted to...All the things you do...When you're going down on me...In between the sheets....All the sound you make...With every breath you take...It's unlike anything...When you're loving me...
Bianca Dupri had wasted no time....
”There you are...you're late, you shiftless lummox!” she barked, when the electronic door of her locker open. Wilshire, who was actually 5 minutes early, stepped in carefully, a Louis Vuitton suitcase in either hand. Bianca's icy green eyes, and furrowed brow watched as the door closed securely behind him , blocking out passersby and faculty alike. Wilshire, not appreciating being called a “lummox”, glared at her, wanting to take her by her pretty fragile neck and choke-kiss her. She would pay dearly for her isolence.
”Sorry, Bianca,” he answered flatly, as the pink panther slinked closer to him in her matching Christian Louboutins in a sea of pink carpet.
”There, now no one will suspect,” said Bianca, haughtily, her luscious, Pilates-toned body and tennis butt poured into a pink off shoulder dress, leaning into Wilshire , fiercely grabbing the lapels of his jacket. “You're my little secret, and that's how we should keep it,” she sang adding an evil laugh. Wilshire, closing his eyes, relaxed his body, feeling the handles of the suitcases leaving his fingers, dropping loudly, onto the floor.
'Oh girl lets take it slow...So as for you well you know where to go...I want to take my love and hate you 'til the end...'
The scent of her perfume was like a psychedelic drug, making him unaware of the present moment. Suddenly Wilshire became numb, and for a moment the world went silent. All he saw was Bianca's seemingly angry, pin-pained mouth parting, yelling things that would disgrace and “demean” him...in her own mind.
”WILSHIRE! YOU CLUMSY OAF! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH LOUIS VUITTON LUGGAGE COSTS?” Bianca bellowed, grabbing him aggressively by the lapels of his work jacket, shaking him, her perfectly arched, dark brows knit into a guise of heated displeasure. Wilshire, tuning back in, getting really tired of the ungrateful, raven -haired demoness's shitty attitude, suddenly gripped Bianca by either of her tiny wrists tightly, making her fingers flail against his chest.
'What?' Bianca thought, feeling her jaw drop in surprise, meeting her peridot green eyes with the gleam rushing through Wilshire's cinnamon brown peepers. Instead of anger she saw indifference, cold, arrogance, yet confidence. His grip was not gentle, and his stance was not wavering. Not only were his muscles growing, so was his backbone.
”Bianca, stop fucking yelling at me over mundane shit, or I'll be forced to punish you,” Wilshire answered sternly, tightening his grip on her wrists, his cinnamon-colored eyes glaring in her peridot ones. “I shit you not.”
”Bumbeclot!” said Rocksi, her hazel eyes filled with horror. She'd never seen Wilshire so devoid of emotion before, and never knew Bianca had the capabilities of being so cruel. As much as Rocksi liked Bianca, and considered her misunderstood, Rocksi wanted to reach through the ORACLE's screen, and choke the raven-haired hussy until her head popped off.
”You wouldn't dare,” Bianca smirked, trying to maintain her composure, feeling the area below her navel becoming wet. “You wouldn't dare punish Bianca Dupri. You don't have the balls.”
Wilshire, chuckling sardonically, turned his head to the side. No this bitch...didn't.“I don't have my balls because you were swallowing them last night in the limo, remember?” he retorted, noticing how quickly she turned red, and suddenly she couldn't look him in the face. “You said they tasted like mangoes...or was it peaches? How did my asshole taste Bianca, because I could swear I felt the tip of your...”
”Wilshire!” Bianca gasped in horror. “Lower your voice.”
Chester and Rocksi's jaws dropped to the floor. Rocksi felt horrible for even watching a scene that was clearly none of her damn business, but in truth, she wanted to see Wilshire win. Chester, taking off his glasses, pulled a cleaning cloth from his lab coat pocket, quickly cleaning the lenses.
”This is just some shit you can't unsee, Rocksi,” he explained, placing his glasses back onto his face. “If only you knew...ohmigawd...Bianca has publicly humiliated and emasculated Wilshire for so long. I have seen this guy crying under the bleachers from all the mean things she has said to him...and to see this...Wilshire Brentwood getting his balls out of her Prada bag, Wilshire Brentwood not taking any shit. Look at him...he was once a soft, doughy, stocky guy, and now he's working out diligently, eating healthy...taking care of his hair, even...and now Bianca's fucking him?”
'It's not like you to turn away...From all the bullshit I can't take...It's not like me to walk away..'
Rocksi, resting her elbow on the console of the supercomputer, scratched the front of her hair, amazed and appalled at the high-definition enhanced torrid “teenage lover's quarrel” going on in front of her. This was far better than a movie, and too real for television.
”First of all, Chester, I'm s'prised to 'ear yuh curse,” said Rocksi, shaking her head of wavy hair. “And this..this little prelude to a porn we're watchin'...Bianca is clearly fallin' in love with 'im, and she won't admit it.”
”Wilshire, you're hurting me,” Bianca gasped, looking at the redness appearing in her wrists. “Let me go, please?”
”As you wish,” said Wilshire, releasing her wrists, slowly. As the frustrated, insulted, butler turned to walk away, in the mood to fuck, but not fuck a bitch, Bianca, reached for Wilshire, trying to catch him by the back of his jacket. As luck would have it, the posh, princess primped in pink, tripped over a suitcase, falling hard onto the floor in a loud thud.
' With every breath you take...It's unlike anything...When you're loving me...'
”Oh, shit, Bianca just ate a mouthful of pink carpet,” said Chester, rubbing his forehead. Rocksi couldn't help but chuckle, holding in her joke. It would have flown over Chester's head, anyway.
“Ow!” the spoiled Italian- Romanian Princess winced, the impact stunning her through her breasts. “My boobs! ” Humiliated, lying in a beautiful heap, Bianca, cursing softly, hid her face in abashment with one hand, covering her boobs with her other arm, pain wracking through her body.
”Owwww....” she winced like a spoiled baby, hoping Wilshire would change his mind about leaving.
'Karma is a bitch', thought Wilshire, stopping in his tracks after hearing Bianca eat a face full of floor. Knowing he couldn't very well leave her in a time of distress despite his ire, the butler, releasing a heavy exhale, turned around, his heart nearly breaking.
'I'm so addicted to all the things....You do when you're going down on me....In between the sheets...All the sound you make...'
”Holy shit, Bianca, are you hurt?” asked Wilshire,dropping down to his knees in front of her. “That sounded like a pretty gnarly fall.” Bianca, lifting her head, a few tears forming at the corners of her beautiful eyes, saw the Wilshire that she recognized. Wilshire, wearing the usual face of great concern, wrapped an arm around Bianca's back, pulling her closer to him. Bianca, breathless, still a bit shaken from her untimely tumble, rested her head against Wilshire's chest, her hand clutching his forearm.
”Bianca, my pet, are you okay?” asked Wilshire, out of concern, kissing her on her dark crown. Ironically, Wilshire had taken a special, martial arts training course in case he ever needed to act as a personal bodyguard. He had also been raised to be chivalrous, throwing down his jacket whenever there was a puddle so Bianca's favorite Rene Caovilla slingback pumps with iridescent beads never got ruined, and would carry her in the rain to protect her prized, striped Caroline Constas off-the-shoulder black and white striped ruffled gown from getting peppered with rain drops, because she never wore underwear with that particular dress. Although she'd incensed him, his blood boiling hotter than a vampire in St. Tropez, holding her, feeling her shaking in helplessness, softened him a bit.
'Yeah...I know when it's getting rough...All the times we spend...When we try to make....This love something better than...Just making love again...'
Wiping a tear away from one of her eyes, hoping her eyelash extensions were still intact, Bianca, gazing up at Wilshire, couldn't answer right then and there. His newly-chiseled face was growing more and more handsome, and his cinnamon-hued eyes were friendly again.
”Wilshire...my breasts...they really, really hurt....can you ...kiss them and make them better?” she pleaded in her soft tone lined with manipulation, her delicate finger, wet with tears, tracing the fullness of Wilshire's lips. “Please?”
Wilshire, maintaining a straight face, wanted to chuckle, but this was the moment she was waiting for. Once again, the pretty ill-natured princess, who favored knights and kings, would receive sexual satisfaction from her “page”. Not that Wilshire minded.
Unable to resist Bianca's beautiful, begging eyes, Wilshire leaned into Bianca's face, claiming her lips into a passionate, obsessive kiss. Bianca, her lower lips moist, hungry for Wilshire, slid her tongue between their kiss, her tongue massaging his. She could feel his heat for her permeating through his body, and in the manner his chest was heaving. Wilshire, unable to keep his hands in a gentleman's manner, began sliding the front of Bianca's dress down lower, exposing her blush-toned Cosabella strapless bra, her breasts round, full, and fake. Bianca's ice cold heart began to race, melting from the heat of Wilshire's kisses, it never took much. As Wilshire's hands began sliding under the wires of her bra, her nipples become prisoners of his hands, while his lips did their job of keeping her distracted...and hot.
”Awwww...shhhiiiitttttt,” said Rocksi touching Chester's shoulder. “Yuh might wanna take yuh glasses off, my genius boi. The good stuff is 'bout to 'happen!”
Her beautiful eyes closed tightly, Bianca groaned deep from her throat, the pressure of Wilshire's tongue against her own sending vibrations through her body where pain had once resided. She could feel his hands, pushing down her bra, his thumbs and forefingers, caressing her rosy nipples. Secretly, she wondered if Troy ever touched Larke in this identical way, considering her tits were much larger and stiff-looking like two cantaloupes.
Wilshire, cursing in his head, was enchanted, his senses ablaze from her body damn near melting from his touch. He could smell Bianca's perfume, shampoo, and the scent of her want, rising from under the fabric of her fitted dress. Never in his life did ever imagine that such a beautiful, treacherous young woman would be his boss and also his first lover.
Suddenly, Bianca released a heavy huff, grabbing Wilshire by either side of his face. Wilshire new exactly what that look meant. The kiss had been so overwhelming, and she was on the verge of release. Baffled by the power of his own sexual prowess, Wilshire still holding Bianca's plentiful bosom, gently eased her back onto the soft, carpeted pink floor, her dark hair a halo, surrounding her flushed face.
'It's not like you to turn away...All the bullshit I can't take...Just when I think I can walk away..'
Wilshire's lips soon left Bianca's, making a curved path from her bottom lip, to her chin, to the olive-gold column of her throat. Giggling, Bianca closed her eyes, letting her sense of touch take over. Even though Wilshire's hands were not the softest. They were still gentle as they played with the diameter, circumference and radius of her breasts. When something wet and textured touched the tip of her left nipple, she moaned, in certainty, that was his tongue.
”Oooohhh...Wilshire...” Bianca, moaned, her head still in a fog from their rambunctious night in the limousine. “ Please...kiss me...take the pain away.” Wilshire, heeding her request, reached into his pocket, pulling out a Trojan XL, unsure if it'd be too tight, considering how “big” he was feeling. While his lips and tongue laved around Bianca's left breast, the obedient butler, unbuttoned his fly. Carefully pulling his engorged, throbbing shaft through the opening of his Tommy Hilfiger boxer briefs.
”WOWWWWWWW!” said Rocksi, leaning back against the rolling chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “I never knew Bianca was the submissive type...no wait, she isn't...she's up to something.”
”Ooohh Wilshire...Wilshire....uggnhhh....”Bianca cried, when his teeth grazed against her sensitive nipple. Raking her nails through the carpet, Bianca, opening her green eyes, stared at the chandelier, the luminous crystals becoming a blur. She heard the familiar sound of foil being unwrapped, the sound of latex following after. She didn't want to hear shit...she wanted to feel Wilshire's tongue lapping fervently against her puss like a dehydrated dog....
Wilshire, strapped and harder than the Hope Diamond, gazed at Bianca's face as he placed her Pilate's toned legs over his shoulders. She was in a world all her own, probably on top of it...little did she know that she would soon be on top of him, because Bianca had been the nucleus of Wilshire's world for a very long time. For him, it was an accomplishment; watching the rich, powerful, bossy, snotty heiress, crumbling to his will, enslaved by his touch. He had so many surprises awaiting her...if she wasn't ready, that was just her tough shit.
' I'm so addicted to all the things...You do when you're going down on me...In between the sheets...All the sound you make...With every breath you take...It's unlike anything...'
Lifting his head from Bianca's breast which was now swollen and pink, Wilshire, using his tongue, made a moist pathway down the center of Bianca's chest, following to her taut, defined belly, drawing circles around her bellyring which was a pear-shaped diamond set in 14 carat gold. The strong heavy sent of her willing mound was calling his name, but not in the harsh way as she had expressed verbally. Her kitty was always kind, teasing; always promising. Nibbling at the waistband of her thin, blush, Cosabella thong that was soaked to a deep shade of rose, Wilshire pushed aside the crotch of the thin, tiny article, smiling at the pulsing, dewy petals that welcomed him with the scent of pomegranates and pineapple.
”W-Wilshire Allen Brentwood! You eat me out this instant! That's an order!” Bianca cried, forgetting they were still in school. Wilshire, ceasing his head, chuckled.
”Lower your voice Bianca,” he warned, before suddenly lapping his tongue furiously against Bianca's outer labia, while massaging her glory hole with the pad of his thumb. He was going to make a Lunchable out of her; teach her a lesson she'd never forget. Bianca, her breasts bare, her dress wrapped around her pelvis, was vulnerable, helpless, looking toward the chandelier that seemed to get blurrier with every stroke of Wilshire's tongue, stinging her with pleasure that seemed to grow even more intense.
'How can I make it through...All the things you do...There's just got to be more to you and me...'
”Ohhh....shhhhiiit.....Wilshire....Wilshire....” Bianca cried, trying to keep her voice low, but the blissful feelings coursing through her veins put her out of control. Every part of her was tingling....even the lights from the chandelier seemed like the hot, blinding rays of the sun. Wilshire, being a cad, lifted Bianca's clitoral hood with his top lip, pressing the widest part of his tongue against her clit. Using a forefinger, he delved into her walls, the smell louder than her silent cries, filling his nose and throat, his middle finger, a bully, eased its way into her tight, little glory hole, opening her up to a new sensation. Pumping in and out, the butler wanted to laugh, watching the underside of Bianca's body vibrating prematurely, her belly tightening, holding in her climax.
' I'm so addicted to all the things you do....When you're going down on me...In between the sheets...All the sound you make with every breath you take...It's unlike anything...It's unlike anything...'
Bianca, raising her head from the floor just a bit, couldn't even see Wilshire's face. The butler's tongue quickly inserted deep, only the crown of his sandy blonde hair, that was tickling at her lower stomach was visible. Diligently, Wilshire tasted every fold of her inner and outer labia, letting Bianca's soft, velvet walls suck his tongue in like Chinese finger cuffs, while his top lip played along her clit, bringing her almost to the “tiny death”. Bianca, feeling her limp body lifting itself into a bridge, knew it was time...and knew no other way to say it...
”Wilshire! If you love me, fuck me!” Bianca commanded through gritted teeth, feeling her body about to implode. She wasn't ready to cum...no...not until she battled with the deathstroke...
Wilshire, feeling Bianca's right leg shaking, as well as new sense of bravado, lifted his tongue from her amazing, swollen clit in a goodbye flick, removing his fingers from her two, sacred holes. Holding her legs, gently, Wilshire stared down at Bianca, noticing just how incredibly beautiful she was when she wasn't being a raging bitch.
”Wishire...please,” Bianca begged, letting out a gasp of air. “I need you...inside of me...”
Wilshire, taking a stern glance at Bianca, with her legs as his captives, took a deep breath, fiercely impaling her soft, wet, core in a quick thrust, not giving her time to prepare her senses. Immediately, Bianca cried out, but then clapped her head over her mouth, as Wilshire, becoming completely aroused by the depth of the penetration, continued his piston-like movements, her wet, dripping folds, encasing him, like a sunken place.
”Oh shit...Bianca..you feel so damn good,” Wilshire huffed, gripping her at either of her strong calves, built well from running up and down tennis courts. Remembering she had once been a gymnast, Wilshire, pulling her legs a bit wider apart, drove vigorously into her, hoping the bitch would get carpet burns on her back.
Bianca, remembering her own command, did not cry out, but bit her hand instead. Wilshire was a beast, stroking inside her body like a psychotic maniac, having so sense of restraint. Every maddening thrust, made her head spin, her eyes, going cross.
For someone to have such a heart of darkness, she felt so fucking good. Any other man would have been bored to tears from banging her everyday, but Wilshire had become quite addicted, using his latent hate that was once love and adoration as sexual Red Bull. With every demanding stroke, Bianca, biting the hand that covered her mouth with one hand, her other hand gripping his forearm that was protected by his jacket, hit her head against the carpeted floor, the thickness of her hair protecting her skull. Using her breasts as chew toys, Wilshire, feasting on the hard, tasty buds, pummeled his hips against Bianca's enjoying the sound of the powerful smacking of their mating skin.
”J-Jeezum pees....” said Rocksi, in complete and utter awe, watching the scene with both guilt and curiosity. “I didn't know Bianca was that damn flexible.”
”Hmm?” asked Chester with a screwed face. “You have the best gift of avoiding the obvious, Rocksi. Can I live in your world?”
”Shhhiiiidddd...my world is wack compared to theirs,” said Rocksi, rubbing the back of her neck, All of a sudden, ORACLE's headquarters wasn't so cold anymore. The coppery-skinned goddess with eyes of an agate, was in a state of pure and utter disbelief, watching the Teen Club's favorite butler, fucking the pure life out of the Teen Club's favorite villain. Wilshire, still fully dressed in his uniform, had THE Bianca Dupri lying on her back, bare breasted, her hair a holy mess, begging and pleading for him to take her to the moon and back. Bianca's leg definition was made evident as she flexed them against Wilshire's shoulders, and her arms were well toned, as she grabbed Wilshire's arm to keep from spilling over the edge, her head tossing from side to side, resembling a Doomsday hurricane.
”What's the time, Chester?” asked Rocksi, turning in her chair, her toes numb from the air conditioner. “Lunch will be over soon.”
”They got fifteen minutes...ten to climax and five to freshen up,” said Chester, checking his watch. “You in a rush?”
”Yeah, I kinda wanna go 'head and get changed. Me and Wilshire are s'pposed to meet up for a workout..but he's already doin' cardio, a'pparently,” she said, getting up from the chair. “I don't wanna look s'picious, y'know?”
”No more than they will,” said Chester, using his hand to point to the screen, just in time to see Wilshire giving Bianca the fast and furious 'deathstroke'.
”Wait, Rocksi, you can't leave yet, the best part is coming, no pun intended,” said Chester, using a red joystick on the control panel to zoom in on Bianca's face which was contorted at the brow, her top teeth biting her bottom lip, her pink lipstick, a memory.
”W-W-Wilshire.....” Bianca stammered, gripping the carpet with one hand, sore from all her biting, feeling the ribbons in her belly about to come untied. “I'm...I'm....”
As angry as he was, Wilshire was not going to let Bianca leave without a strong climax, and a teeny bit of sweet torture mixed in. Sliding out from between her soaking wet cavern, the condom glistening, the front of his pants well stained, Wilshire, sliding backwards, then downward, so he was face to face with his favorite “toy” , inserted his tongue where his cock had planted flags. Holding Bianca tightly by the backs of her legs, Wilshire swirled his tongue around her precious little button that would knock down all the little walls that held her in.
”Unnnghhh....Wilshire....Wilshire....I love ….I..I LOVE YOUUUUUUU......”
”What the hell?” said Chester and Rocksi in tandem, exchanging looks of shock. What now? Had Atlas shrugged?
When Bianca ejaculated, it rushed like a waterfall, shooting onto Wilshire's face, then trickling down into her crack. Wilshire, having absolutely no shame, but sneaky designs, lapped it away, zigzagging with his tongue, teasing the tip of it against her glory hole, feeling her legs jerking, kicking in the air in her fancy, platform heels. Bianca, gasping for oxygen, sucked it back in, banging her fists against the floor.
”Wilshire...please...you're killing me....unghhhh....” Bianca cried again, her breasts thrusting upward toward the ceiling. Taking a final lick, tasting the sweet, fruit smoothie of her satisfied sexual need, Wilshire, letting go of Bianca's legs, the lower half of his face covered in her dew, crawled upward along her sweaty body, gazing as the lights from the chandelier played against the salty drops glistening between her breasts, her nipples red around the aereolas.
The smell of everything was was heady, pungent....but nonetheless, lovely.
Wilshire, once again, having an encounter with no release of his own, laid down beside Bianca, who was wiping sweat from her brow, trying to breathe normally. After every tryst with Wilshire she felt a veil of shyness come over her, and could not figure out why. Clearing her throat, Bianca turned her head, spying Wilshire wearing the blankest of stares, looking straight at the locker room door.
”Yes, my pet?” he answered, deep in thought, wondering how he was going to workout with blueballs.
Bianca and her naked breasts, turned onto her side, propping on her elbow, her dark hair falling like a blanket along her curves. “Do you realize... where you put your tongue?” she asked, pressing her hand to his chest. “Are you, crazy?” Her pale green eyes were filled with incredulity, and all Wilshire could do was smirk.
”I licked your ass...big deal,” Wilshire answered with a shrug, before cradling his hands underneath his head. “I know you're clean. I'm always with you when you get 'down there' waxed. I've taken baths and showers with you. It's clean as a whistle and tastes like orange sherbert.”
”O-orange sherbert? What is that?” asked Bianca with narrowed eyes, playing with the buttons on his crisp, white shirt. “Is that like Duck L'Orange?” Taking a glance downward, Bianca noticed his still erect member securely wrapped, and also stains on his pants from her...stamp of approval. Blushing a bit, she quickly looked away.
”You thoroughly enjoyed yourself, nothing to be embarrassed about, Bianca,” Wilshire reassured, cupping her chin to bring her face back to him. “ Anything I have done with you, I've done because I wanted to, and because giving you immeasurable pleasure brings me joy,” he embellished, meeting her gorgeous green eyes with his. “It's an honor.”
”Oh,” said Bianca, with a shy smile. “But Wilshire...sometimes you don't...”
”As I've said before, it's okay, I'm a guy, I won't die if I don't get mine. I'm not a selfish lover. My duty is to please that booty, any way that I see fit,” Wilshire continued, smiling at Bianca. “It's my pleasure, second, your pleasure, first.”
'I should make him angry more often, the sex is always amazing. No matter how much I scold him, he never turns away from me,' thought Bianca, placing her thumb against Wilshire's lips, wiping away her “splooge”. Gently, Wilshire placed his hand over hers, shaking his head to the negative.
”That's for me,” he winked, lifting himself from the floor. “And we better get cleaned up, lunch will be over in about 5 minutes. Even though I already “ate” I sill want to get a protein bar or a crepe.” Bianca, still laying on the the floor, watched as Wilshire got up, excusing himself to the sink to wash his face. Sighing, smirking, Bianca, combing her fingers through the front of her hair wondered if Troy Jefferies was just as considerate.
'All the sound you make with every breath...You take, it's unlike anything...I'm so addicted to you....Addicted to you....'
Lyrics: “Addicted to You” by Saving Abel