West Coast Games – Part Two: The Free Fall

Big Tits

I’ve always thought relationships are a lot like seasons. They have their hot spells and eventual decline of life until things freeze over completely. Part of me was expecting that, even with Roxy. It had been the blueprint for all my past affairs. But it was nearing Christmas and I was still wrapped up in that candy cunt of hers. I felt green and boyish around her, convincing myself that life without her kind of unpredictability would fall flat and become staid. All my previous relationships had functioned at a comfortable pace and none of them had worked out, nor had the girls been able to hold my interest over the long term. With Roxy, every day was like a fresh trip down the rabbit hole. In the beginning, peeling back her layers was exciting. We would lay awake all night talking and fucking, and exploring those little corners of each other’s minds that are so raw you rarely ever let anyone else in. She told me about growing up in Arizona, feeling trapped by the inertia of her life there. Her childhood had been a mess, but then again so had mine. My mother had left my dad when I was young, abandoning us both, and aside from teaching me how to hit the waves on the beach, he’d never had natural parenting skills. In the land of plenty, we’d always scraped to get by and I’d never had any easy handouts. I had worked hard for everything I had: a stable job that brought in big commissions, a nice townhouse in Hermosa Beach, and still enough leisure time to play when I wanted to. Roxy, on the other hand had been far more scattered with her energies until she’d found her primary vocation – being beautiful. She told me she’d been modeling since she was in her early teens. It was how she made enough money to make the trip out to California to chase her visions of the perfect lifestyle along the coast. She loved the waves, the salty air and chill vibes. I understood the lure of wanting to start over. It made sense to follow the path of opportunities as well. There were lucrative modeling, hosting and acting gigs in and around LA and she was an easy fit on the playground of the beautiful people. One night she brought out her portfolio and we sat on my bed and flipped through the pages of photos. I marveled at all the different faces she could pull off. She was hard, soft, and at times, even bubblegum pink. “It isn’t as fun as you think,” she said, leaning back and lighting a joint. She was warily observing my fascination with her photos, as though she didn’t want me to buy in to the idea too much. Maybe she feared the pressure. “Well, work isn’t always meant to be fun,” I said absently. “That’s why it’s called work.” She handed me the joint and I inhaled deeply. “That’s the whole problem with the world, Leo,” she said. “It needs more fun. People need to understand that they don’t have to waste their lives sentencing themselves to this dreary fate they think they deserve.” “You really think people do that without eventually breaking free? That they’re happy chained by their own misery?” “My mother was like that,” she shrugged. “She forced herself to stay in a shitty marriage, forcing herself to get domestic and have babies and give up on her dreams. How could she be who she really was, suffocated by all that responsibility? She was a shell of a person. A mom. An unsatisfied wife. She didn’t have time to be real. She was too busy playing the roles that fate set out for her. That’s not living, Leo. That’s just surviving.” She was wistful then, looking out my bedroom window at the sheets of rain coming down against the glass. Roxy was like a child sometimes, vulnerable for fleeting moments. I should have appreciated them for what they were, rather than trying to force the sun back into her brooding gaze. “But you’re free of all that now, aren’t you?” I said. I set the portfolio down and pulled her legs toward me, making her slide across the sheets until she was bound up in my arms. “That was then, this is now.” She took the joint back from me and inhaled, blowing the sweet smoke into my mouth as we kissed. “I’m always free, Leo. That’s one thing you need to remember about me.” Her lips brushed mine, leaving me hungry, before tossing her head back with a giddy smile. “Life is a trip, Leo. A fun fucking trip. That’s my life’s motto; you can put it in print. That’s why I came to the coast. I have a different philosophy, bigger dreams…” “Uh huh,” I teased, sucking the skin along her neck. “And what dreams are those? They seem to change every week.” She laughed and pushed me down on the bed, straddling me and leaning in. I watched the stars dance in her eyes. There was no burnt out sky, no jaded fade in that pretty green gaze of hers. It drew me right in. “This week it’s to be your dirtiest fantasy. Then next week… who knows.” She shrugged off hard questions with all the innocence in the world, like a playful kitten. It was disarming and it let me become intoxicated with who I wanted her to be. Roxy’s game wasn’t meant to be deceptive. All along, there had been open clues that she was more of a Tunalı escort bayan predator than a kitten, but she was easy to forgive because the high points in our relationship had been so fantastic. When we were good, we were great. And let’s be honest, everyone comes with some baggage, don’t they? Who was I to judge? Instead, I put the blinders on, explaining things away in my head and embracing her flaws. I ignored the way she drank my liquor cabinets dry and the telltale white powdery residue that lingered in obvious scrape marks on the black laminate bathroom countertop. I liked to smoke a joint or two during downtime, but Roxy had other vices. Still, it would have been hypocritical to blame her. And really, it was just part of the hedonistic social scene, of being young and reckless, coupled with the ‘work hard play hard’ mentality. It’s just that Roxy never seemed to bother too much with the ‘work hard’ bit. “I’ll get to it,” she promised, rolling over in bed. “My agent isn’t giving me priority. He’s trying to book me for things that really aren’t my style.” “Maybe you have to work your way up to that. I mean, get in with the right people, show you’re dedicated, that you’ll be there on time and work with the clients.” “I’m not going to be a sell out,” she insisted. “There’s far too many of those types already.” Her modeling jobs were scant and the casting calls she went on became more and more of a rarity. She was certainly pretty and charming enough to compete on that circuit but she was undisciplined, preferring the beach and surfing to returning calls from her agency and following up on job opportunities. Roxy would happily wake up at 5 a.m. for dawn patrol at the beach but she’d roll over and push the snooze alarm for an early morning appointment. She was usually still naked and tangled in the sheets by the time I’d showered, put on my suit and was heading to the office. Money was an obvious issue, but she was clever about maximizing her opportunities. She would borrow my credit card to get groceries on the weekends and then slip in a little binge shopping, which she then blamed on me if I got angry with her. She was bored. What was she supposed to do in between playing my ‘maid’ and ‘sex slave’? In reality she wasn’t any of those things. I didn’t want to remind her of the charges for house cleaning I’d found cleverly billed under a different name. She would just turn things around and claim I didn’t trust her, trying to bait me into another argument. When I did yell back, she’d use those moments of guilt as a deflection to pilfer bills from my wallet without having to be accountable for it. In a way, she was a fool to think I hadn’t noticed that. And in more important ways, I was an even bigger fool for not addressing it. Roxy knew the way to appease me and keep me under her spell. She would push me down on the bed, milking my cock with that exquisite pussy. My hands would slide into her hair as she leaned over me, letting me watch the rise and fall of her breasts as she bounced her thighs against my hips. “You wanna fuck me, don’t you? Punish me for being such a bad girl, Leo. Fuck knows, I deserve it.” She’d goad me, looking to provoke a reaction. It was almost like if she worked me up into anger and when I finally let it out, it would be a kind of fair penance in return. I would have been resistant to such self-destructive motives if there wasn’t this little hitch that kept me intrigued. I began to realize that it wasn’t just that she wanted to pacify me or make things right between us after an argument or confrontation – she genuinely got off on it. There was something that came alive in her when she’d push me past my breaking point and the passion got really rough. It wasn’t punishment anymore. It had started to become our natural way of communicating. She would draw my hands around her own neck, squeezing my knuckles until I held them there. She would ride and pump my cock like a piston, until screams were in her throat and her juices bathed my balls. And then I would seize her. I couldn’t help myself. I’d roll her over and pin her to the bed, one hand vise-like around her neck, the other shoved under the arch of her back, fighting with the sheets until my fingers were knuckle-deep in the tight little resisting knot of her ass. I’d drive myself into her cunt like a demon eating her soul from the inside. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” “Fuck, yes,” she’d cry, squirming deliciously beneath my weight. Eventually I would use a leather belt to fasten into makeshift cuffs, wrapping them around her tiny wrists and binding her to the open slat in the headboard of the bed. “Have you ever fucked other girls like this, Leo?” she would tease, running her long tongue along my chest as I leaned over her, pulling the leather straps firm. She would leave soft little bite mark indentations on my pecs when I got too close. “Not quite. Then again, I’ve never had a little hellcat like you before either,” I’d growl hotly into her ear. “Have Escort ulus you ever fucked a guy like this?” There was a soft giggle before she’d whisper her answer back. “Always.” Then I would feel her body shiver beneath me, anticipating the turn of energy. My teeth would graze her neck a little more intensely as I sucked the soft flesh while she defiantly bucked up under me, always pushing for more. I would move lower, engulfing her nipples in my mouth, diving from one to the other. My fingers would dig into the flesh of her thighs as I slowly made my way down her gorgeous body. I would tease her pussy, keeping her on the edge even as she whimpered and was lifting her hips off the bed, trying to tempt my tongue. There were countless times I would keep her there, tethered and tied. I enjoyed having her under my control. I was excited by the heat in her eyes and the way she’d beg me to fuck her. I would slap her pussy until it was puffy and pink, inhaling her sweet musk before running my tongue along her slit. The more she struggled, the more I wanted to subdue her. Part of me enjoyed debasing her too. There were times I would position her on the bed with a pillow under her neck, forcing it to arch at an angle. Then I would push my cock past her lips, hearing the wicked wetness of her tongue as she sucked me. “Think you can take more?” I rarely gave her a chance to answer. It would just be an obscene gurgle as I bore down on her mouth, feeling my shaft sinking into her throat. God, how I loved to fuck her mouth. I would thrust into her until I had nearly bottomed out and my balls were against her chin. I would call her filthy names and nearly go into a kind of euphoric trance of my own. Like faded photographs in my mind, I can still bring up those snapshot images of the way I saw her through my own heady lust. I can still see the flutter of her eyelids, her lips glistening with saliva and pre-cum just before it would trickle from both corners of her mouth.And then, just when I felt like I was pressing her too hard, I would withdraw abruptly, leaving her sputtering and gasping. I’d grab both sides of her head and lean in to kiss her hard, almost violently, tasting her salty tongue. Her eyes would be wide as she struggled to catch her breath beneath the crush of my mouth and it was in those moments that I would drive my cock back inside her. “Oh fuck yes,” she’d sob. “Give it to me harder.” “Harder than this?” I would groan, giving her the full brunt of my thrusts until her pussy almost felt swollen around my thick shaft. We would be sweating, skin flushed red, and still she would torment me with that filthy mouth. “Treat me like a slut, Leo. I want you to fuck me raw. Then I want you to use that belt to spank me. I’m just going to stay here, naked all day and all night for you, and you can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.” Roxy awoke darker fantasies in me, and with them came a different kind of sexual release. It had quickly become addictive. Of course, it didn’t help that there was no off-switch with her. For all the girls that I’d known before her that fed off long intimate dinners, soft kisses and tender words, she had delighted in giving me the exact opposite. A license to fulfill every dirty fantasy I’d ever had. I would come home from work to her waiting for me, kneeling naked on a silver leash, letting me own her tongue until dawn. We would take long kinky showers where she would let me fill her mouth with piss and I would watch it spill past her lips and run down the valley between her breasts. She had called it a sexual communion because she swore she loved me that much. On any given day, I could pick up my cellphone at the office and find an array of hardcore photos she’d snapped just for me that morning. It almost made it worth having her home all day and not out looking for a job. Then there was the full out anger fucks. How many times had we done it? How had I not realized how hot it was before Roxy? I had spent hours fucking her ass in every conceivable position and place. Inevitably, that’s how she wanted it when she was bad. Bent over and panting, until that little muscular ring was suitably punished. Later, I’d spend hours soothing it with my tongue, amid apologies for our verbal sword fights. And she would crawl into my space at night, running her fingers along the scratches on my pecs left by her little claws. Her soft lips would find my ear as she nestled into my arms. “Baby, I think next time you need to go harder.” She was one long puzzling mindfuck, my Roxy. Maddening, even. At the time, I couldn’t tell if I was fucking her or if she was the one that was fucking me. *** Things took a sharp turn on Valentine’s Day. The usual cinnamon candy artifice was lost on Roxy. I knew she was beyond sentimental tokens or easy romance. Roses weren’t her thing and she swore chocolate would go straight to her thighs. We’d be going out that night – her style – along with a trip to LA to visit one of her favorite upscale boutiques. yenimahalle escort I was letting her pick out a dress and new shoes. I’d done similar things for girlfriends in the past, but there was a difference. They hadn’t been greedy about it. Roxy breezed into the shop like the Santa Ana winds, knowing exactly what she wanted and going straight to the off the rack couture. “This is the one. I saw it last week.” The dress was like liquid platinum but slippery to the touch, scandalously short with tiny straps and a plunging back. It was a hot little number, I’ll give her that. The price tag was unfathomable for a scrap of pretty fabric, but the moment I hesitated, those doe eyes and coquettish pout were doing their thing. She was like a giddy child when I handed her my card. She went up on her toes to rain kisses on my mouth before snatching the dress and the silver stilettos she’d chosen and taking them up to the counter. “You’re going to love showing me off; admit it,” she said later on the ride back to Hermosa. She put her feet up on the console and leaned back, soaking in the late-day sun. “You should invite some of the guys. Get a group out.” “I think Noah’s doing a dinner thing with his girlfriend,” I said absently. “You know, like normal couples.” I didn’t even glance her way to confirm the eye rolls. “You mean boring couples,” she corrected. “You should be glad I’m not like that, you know. All candles and rose petals on the bed. Fuck that. You need a little excitement now and then to stir things up. That’s why I’m in your life.” “I must have missed that memo,” I chided. “Like this for example. A long boring drive. You’re just content to listen to tunes and watch the sights roll by.” “Hey, I like my tunes!” “Fair enough,” she said with a grin. “But I’ll bet you like this even more,” She reached into my lap and unzipped me, slipping her hand inside my jeans and expertly working my cock. Soon, I was hard and pulsing in her grip. I struggled to stay focused on driving, trying not to swerve as she leaned across the console into my lap, freeing my cock and flicking her eyes upward teasingly. “Let’s see how you do with a bit of distraction,” she said. Her tongue slithered over the head of my cock and I exhaled deeply. Soon her cupid lips were engulfing my shaft, her blonde head bobbing up and down. Her sucking was merciless and I found myself squirming in my seat. “Goddamn, Roxy. You’re going to make me go off the road.” Not that it stopped her. My cock plunged almost to the back of her throat. I could feel the heat of her carnivorous mouth, the juices of her saliva lubricating my cock right down to my balls. Even her tongue seemed to grip me. I put one hand on the back of her head, feeling beads of sweat at my temples as I gave in to the pitch of my own rising orgasm. Cars screamed by us as I bucked up into her mouth, pulsing and twitching until I eventually exploded. I bathed her tonsils in an almost violent way, as though the sperm jettisoning into her was making a point. “Fuck,” I sighed, still breathing hard, trying to find my pace with traffic again. “Fuck is right,” she purred. “You taste so good, baby. I could suck you anytime, anywhere,” I felt her slippery lips near my ear as she kissed my neck. Then she leaned back again, abandoning the moment of pleasure just as quickly as she’d begun it. I caught her staring out at the fireball of sun setting over the coastline, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze. “Maybe you should invite Zane tonight,” she said casually. “He probably has nothing to do.” She said it in such a dismissive way that I thought nothing of it at the time. Clubs and parties were always best done in groups and I assumed she wanted to blow it up, bottle service, all eyes on her. Being the best Roxy. “Yeah, I guess I could do that.” “Besides, he’s always good for a bit of fun,” she said with a faint smile. I was still in my delusional post-orgasmic bliss back in those days. I’d had her for almost a year, and couldn’t quite come to grips with the fact that our season was just on the cusp of change. I think she knew, even back then, that we were at about the 4 o’clock mark on our relationship. The sun wasn’t at its brightest anymore and there was the faintest chill in the air. I was ripe for a blindside. *** The club we ended up at that night was a Hollywood hotspot that stayed open until dawn. You had to know the right people and Zane had all the connections. The bottles of Grey Goose and champagne were flowing. Noah and his girlfriend came by at around 2 a.m., and soon the hangers-on types were joining us too. Acquaintances, buddies, club friends and the ones you never saw in daylight hours but swore were some of your ‘besties’ by twilight, had begun to crowd our table behind the velvet ropes. Roxy was in her element, being the ultimate party girl. She glittered under the lights as she danced, her long blonde hair and golden skin set off by the platinum sequins. Even from afar, it was easy to become visually fixated on the easy way her hips moved and the way her back would arch while winding her body, those long bare legs just slightly apart. Caught up in the music, she had a habit of letting her hands slip over the soft skin of her thighs to tease the hemline of her dress a little higher, almost to the breaking point of being scandalous.

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