It was well past dark by the time Paul left the office. He was thankful for it because it meant the staff had gone home for the day and the halls in the building were mostly empty. The only person left to witness what was essentially his 'walk of shame' after two days of fucking his boss was the receptionist, Amy, he had first met after arriving here the day before.
She didn't say anything as he walked by her desk, only giving him a playful wave and a knowing smirk on his way out.
It was going to be weird over the next few weeks with his co-workers knowing he was getting railed by his big-dicked boss. It was a small price to pay for Paul if it meant he was getting railed by his big-dicked boss. Somethings were turning out to be their own reward when it came to Molly.
The night was cold and clean. The crisp, fresh air feeling great on Paul's face after not being outside for so long. Getting into his car he rolled the window down and tuned his radio to music instead of the talk-radio he had been listening to the day before and pulled out of the parking lot.
A dream-like fugue washed over him as he drove, the empty streets and stoplights a soothing blur in his vision. He played over his time with Molly in his head. It didn't seem real. The past forty-eight hours was an earthquake of happenings that played better on black water websites rather than in his memories.
Molly ran like a mirage in his head, like something his mind had painted to cope with how miserable his life was before she had walked into that interview room.
A rush of air washed over his face from the open window, bringing with it the scent of Molly that still permeated his entire body. Molly had spent some time cleaning him up, wiping down the worst of what she had left on them both, but he was too saturated in her for it to make much of a difference in the end.
It was the scent that made her real again. He felt her perfect tits hugging his cock, being inside her, hearing her sweet little voice begging him to cum. Moaning for him to fill her up deep in her ass until she couldn't hold any more of him.
He remembered how it felt to have her buried and hilted in his virgin ass, her balls slapping against him shamelessly each time she drove her girlcock down into the far reaches of his body.
That feeling, the fullness of it most of all, dominated his thoughts.
He pulled into his apartment complex and parked the car. He didn't move to get out, however. He remained in his seat with the engine still running, tempted to pull back out and turn around and drive back to Molly.
He missed her. He should have stayed and dealt with the real life that waited for him in his crappy studio apartment another day. But that would only delay the trip, and the sooner he sorted himself out, the sooner he could be back with Molly.
Shutting off his car, he got out and made his way inside.
Entering his apartment, it immediately felt small. It wasn't the size that was small. It was a studio. The space had always been small.
It was the dimness. There was no shine here.
He moved about, going through the motions like anyone would after arriving back home after being gone for some time. Putting things away, taking things out, cleaning and organizing. All of it mundane. All of it useless.
He didn't want to be here. What was a room without Molly in it?
A decision came to Paul without consciously trying to make one. He could pack up the things he needed in a few minutes, shove it in his car and be back with Molly in less than an hour if he hurried.
So why not do it?
He grabbed a duffle from his closet and started filling it with anything he thought he might need, trying to be thorough enough not to forget something that would cause him to have to come back. He didn't own much to begin with, so it took him less time to pack then he thought it would.
As badly as he needed one, he wasn't going to shower since it would just waste time and wash away what little of Molly was left on him. He changed his mind, however, when he thought about how eager she would be to mark him all over again. Best to give her a clean slate to work with.
Alone, no soapy tits sliding over his naked body, no hard girlcock to play with, it was the stupidest fucking shower Paul had ever experienced.
Clean and dry, he pulled on some underwear and a pair of comfortable gym pants. Before he could grab a shirt and pull it on, a knock sounded loudly coming from his apartment door.
"Who is it?" Paul asked. He was confused. It was late for visitors, not that he got many visitors during the day either.
The answer he received was another round of knocking.
Instead of yelling, Paul went to answer it. In the back of his mind, he was hoping it was Molly, just as desperate and pathetic as he was with his need to be with her.
He opened the door with high hopes, only for them to be dashed and replaced with confusion and disappointment.
"Grace?" he asked, surprised to see her here at his apartment.
"Hi Paul," Grace replied, smiling.
She was dressed in yoga pants, sports bra and a light jacket like she had come here straight from the gym. She looked amazing, each piece of clothing form fitting, revealing, and sexy as fuck.
Something was off about her though. Nothing about her besides her clothes made it look like she had been working out. Her make-up and hair were still perfect, and she was wearing casual footwear as opposed to sneakers. The outfit, combined with the house call, reeked of trying too hard to accomplish something Paul wasn't sure Grace knew how to do.
Not to mention that women dressing in work-out clothes with no intention of working out or performing any sort of physical activity was the universal uniform of the basic suburban housewife. A stereotype that didn't seem to fit Grace in the least.
The semi-erect bulge riding down one of her pant-legs was also a red flag. It didn't look to be as big as Molly's, but it was impressive non-the-less.
Paul knew this wasn't going to go well.
"What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" asked Paul.
"I'm the director of HR, it's my job to know where you live," replied Grace evenly.
"Ok, then let's go with my first question," he said dryly. He didn't like her being here, not after what Cassie and Molly had warned him about.
Grace stopped in her response, and gasped.
"Damn, what happened there?" she asked, pointing to Paul's shoulder where Molly's bite mark was starting to bruise.
"Molly bit me," he replied, not having a reason to lie. They all knew what he and Molly had been getting up to.
"And from behind from the looks of it. That wasn't very nice of her."
"Not her fault. I'm very tasty."
Grace laughed, entering Paul's apartment without being invited.
Paul was surprised at her brashness. By the time he thought to stop her, she had already passed him moving deeper into his apartment. Short of physically picking her up and throwing her out, there wasn't much he could do about it.
He could yell or scream for her to leave, but she was technically someone he worked for and wasn't sure how to navigate kicking her out tactfully. He also didn't want to take advantage of him and Molly blurring the lines of business and pleasure so soon in their relationship. It was unfair to her and looked terrible on him.
He went to shut the door behind her on impulse, then decided against it. It felt too intimate to be in a small, enclosed space with Grace and he wanted no part of it. Instead, he opened it wider and left it.
"I thought I would come by and chat a little," Grace said, taking a seat on his couch, "Molly's been keeping you so busy we've hardly had a chance to get to know one another."
"Shame," responded Paul, not meaning it.
Grace paused and smirked. "Molly said you were funny. I see what she means."
"Does she know you're here?"
"No. Should she? She's a busy girl, and this is part of my job. Not hers. Come, sit, let's talk. See if Denton Publishing can't be a better home for your career growth."
Paul blinked and watched Grace subtly move her hand to her cock when she emphasized her last word. It occurred to him that Grace might have never had to work very hard to get someone in bed and therefore had no idea how to put effort into seducing someone.
The theory explained the overt choice in clothing and her not-so-subtle emphasis towards her cock. Not to mention she was easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever met in his life, showing up and pointing at whoever she wanted to take home was probably the extent of whatever dating skills she had ever needed to evolve.
"Most of my work is directly involved with Molly, I'm not sure there's much to discuss without her being here." Paul said, trying to end the conversation quickly.
"There's more to this business than being Molly's... editor," she said, meaning something completely different.
Her passive aggression was grating. That last quip almost sounded like she was insulting him. Or Molly, which would be worse.
Grace made a show of taking off her jacket, jutting her chest out showing off her impressive bust. Paul rolled his eyes at the overdramatic gesture.
"I'd prefer you not get comfortable; I was just leaving. Molly asked me to come in to help her with a part of her book she's stuck on." A truth, and a lie."That sounds like her, burning the candle at both ends. A workaholic if you ask me. I can be similar at times, but I try and go out of my way to enjoy the better things in life when I can. Work-life balance is important, don't you think?"
Paul said nothing. Her subtle jabs at Molly caused him to have an off-brand desire to kick her in the balls.
"Part of my department's purpose," she continued, oblivious to Paul's violent desires, "is to ensure our employees don't get lost in the nine-to-five grind corporate life can sometimes become. I've seen enough cases of burn-out not to understand the reality of it."
"I've only been working for a day."
"You know what they say, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound cure."
"They do say that," Paul replied. He honestly thought the phrase was quite apt for this situation, though not in the way Grace meant it. He needed her gone before this went any further.
"Not to be rude," he said as he walked closer to the door, leading her out with his body language, "but I really was on my way out. Maybe if Molly can spare me at some point later this week, I can come by and we can finish this conversation."
Grace looked annoyed. She wasn't used to being dismissed so easily. The objects of her attentions were usually on their knees sucking her fat cock by now.
"Your dedication to Molly is admirable," she said, "but don't you think you can accomplish so much more, professionally speaking, by finding something better than being some has-beens fuck toy?"
"Ok, nice," Paul said curtly. "Thanks for coming. Get the fuck out."
He was happy to have the work pretense over.
"Don't play hard to get with me, sweetheart, Molly was breaking in your ass in less than a day. I saw you staring at my cock, be a good little boy and come get a closer look."
"Rather not. Molly's is bigger, I don't play in the kiddie pool."
"Fuck you!"
"Too late, not so much into women these days. I love big, fat girlcock."
"What the fuck is that supposed mean," Grace yelled. She involuntarily looked down at her package as if to confirm it was there.
A feminine cough came from the doorway. Paul spun.
Upon seeing Molly standing there, in his wide-open door, his heart sank down into stomach.
"I believe," Molly said calmly, "Paul meant your dick is so small you might as well have a pussy, for all the good it would do in satisfying his needs."
She was addressing Grace but had eyes only for Paul. He was expecting anger, or betrayal, or some other negative emotion at finding him alone in his apartment with Grace. The only thing he saw, however, was lust.
If a woman could fuck with her eyes, Molly would be balls deep in Paul.
"Did I get that right, sweetheart?" Molly asked, speaking to Paul, but mocking Grace's use of the pet name.
"Uh, yeah," said Paul. His eloquence around Molly was uncanny.
To be fair, he was more concerned with what Molly was wearing. Her hair was down and covered by a white-nit beanie, her cheeks and nose red from either the cold outside or the blood rushing around from the unexpected scene in front of her. An oversized hoodie fell over most of her body, down to mid-thigh, where it met a hint of bare skin.
Below that, as if she had ripped it straight from the pages of a journal written by a horny, undersexed, sixteen-year-old Paul, one he had never written, Molly had on dark, navy blue, thigh high socks, crowned at the top with three white stripes matching her hat.
Call him cliché, but the comfy-yet-sexy girl next door look could leave him stuck to the bed, dick first, all night long.
A small suitcase sat upright next to where she stood. It had a bumper sticker on the front that read 'Oxford Commas Are For Cowards'.
She was so god-damned adorable Paul couldn't believe how deep in his strike zone this girl was. Molly was riding his wet-dreams like she lived in his brain.
"How are you doing this?" Paul blurted without realizing what he was saying.
Molly hitched, not expecting the question, "Doing what?"
Grace took this moment to cut in, "What are you doing here Molly? Shouldn't you be working?"
"Go fuck yourself, whore," said Molly.
Paul laughed.
"I thought I told you this morning to lay off," accused Molly.
"And I said I'll fuck whoever I want," said Grace, annoyed at the interruption.
"Said the whore with the little dick."
"Oh. You get a boy-toy with a sense of humor and all the sudden you have jokes too? Stick to writing books where all the characters die like the sad bitch you are."
"He's mine. Only mine," said Molly. She looked over to Paul, a look of shame on her face after she said that.
Paul shrugged, not giving a fuck at being claimed by her.
Grace looked to Paul, then back to Molly, and like she had been doing since arriving, she missed the tone of the conversation, taking Molly's aggression towards 'owning' Paul as her in.
"Claiming him like an object? That's fucked up, even for you, Molly. You may like hiring living fuck dolls for 'inspiration', but you never pretend to own them like this. Is that why you bit him? Branding him like cattle? He's hurt because of you. What's next? You going to carve your name into his skin?"
Molly fidgeted with her hands and pouted innocently at Paul.
"You'd never think such terrible things of your sweet girl, would you Paul?"
Paul shivered, remembering what she had done to him the last time she used that tone of voice on him.
He tore his eyes away from Molly towards Grace.
"See? That's how you seduce someone," he said to her.
"That's what you like?" asked Grace, put out.
"What he likes," asserted Molly, back to being angry, "is fucking my huge tits. Yours are small enough I'd be surprised if you could fully wrap them around his big cock. Like trying to fuck a table."
As much as he was enjoying two hot dickgirls fighting over him, Paul backed away from the confrontation for a moment, starting to rifle through his kitchen drawers before finding something and pulling it out.
"My tits have swallowed plenty of cock," said Grace, lifting her bra and letting her tits drop in the open.
"Awe, look how cute," said Molly.
"Haven't had any complaints."
"Hard to complain when you're too busy shoving your cock down their throat. Whether they want it there or not. You always were the rapey type."
"They beg me for it. And as soon as Paul gets a taste, he'll be begging for it too."
"Those tiny boys you're so fond of must be something special to last in your bed, all ten seconds of it you tiny-cocked cunt."
"Cow."
"Sex offender."
The two women's fists were balled as if they were ready to come to blows.
"Hey!" yelled Paul, reasserting himself. "As sexy as this girl fight is, and as curious as I am to see if you'll both end up naked and comparing dick size, which would be awesome by the way, maybe this will settle things..." Paul jutted out both of his arms, each inner forearm sporting the word 'MOLLY'S' in all caps.
His right arm looked more like 'MULPY'5', but the intent was the same. Paul had never been good at writing with his off hand.
He looked at Grace, "It's not carved, but I can get it tattooed on my dick if you need something more official, not that you'll ever see it."
Both Molly and Grace were standing there with their mouths hanging open.
Grace was the first to snap out of it, hiccupping out a snort before she started laughing outright. She hadn't bothered covering herself yet and her tits bounced beautifully. Paul was having a hard time not staring. He had no interest in Grace when he could have Molly, but her tits were amazing. After all, he was only a man.
"Oh my god, he's so damn cute," said Grace through her giggle fit, "I kind of hate you right now for not sharing," she said to Molly.
"I think I'm falling in love with him," blurted Molly.
The room fell into silence, Molly closed the distance between her and Paul and grabbed his covered arms, inspecting them. She rubbed her thumb over her name.
"Jesus Paul, did you use permanent marker?"
She took the pen that he was still holding in his hand and looked at it.
"You did. You used permanent marker. It's going to take forever for me to wash this off."
"Falling in love with him?" Grace asked, shocked.
"Yes."
"It's only been a day."
Molly licked her thumb and tried rubbing off some of the marker. "So?"
"Are... are you sure he's not just a good lay? I've gotten love and good ass confused a couple times."
Molly took her attention away from Paul to acknowledge Grace, "It can't be both?"
"Well shit, if this is about more than sex I think I might feel bad now."
"You didn't before?" asked Paul after he'd recovered from Molly's sudden admission.
"No. I thought she was being selfish, hogging a good piece of ass and keeping him to herself."
"Again, can't it be both?" asked Molly again.
"That's the dream, I suppose," Grace said in a sigh. Then she perked up. "Can I interest you in a threesome?"
"Not this time," said Molly.
"This time?!" interjected Paul. "Wait, let's talk about this."
Molly pinched his arm. Hard.
"Ow, fuck. I was joking."
With Molly's attention back on Paul's arms, she led him to the kitchen area, such as it was, put his arms over the sink and went about using soap and water to try and scrub her name off his skin.
She looked up at Paul, "Stop staring at her tits."
"But they're right there."
Molly pinched him again.
"Ow. Stop doing that. Maybe if you took your shirt off, I'd stare at yours instead. Don't blame me because I'm taking a few glances at the only pair of uncovered tits in the room."
Molly rolled her eyes, but for a second, she almost did as he suggested, if only to have his eyes only on her again.
"Molly," said Grace.
"What?" she replied, sounding agitated.
"Is this for real?"
Molly had calmed herself by now. She knew this was over. Grace had no chance with Paul. A fact that had been evident since she had arrived at his door and saw the panicked look on his face when he saw her. Arguing with Grace was more out of anger at her in general, rather than at her being here alone with Paul.
"You know me well enough to know I'd never say something like that just to win a fight."
"Yeah, that was my thought. I never had a shot here, did I?"
"No," said Paul, beating Molly to it.
He leaned in and nuzzled her neck, whispering words only she could hear. She kept scrubbing at Paul's arms, not looking at him. He must have said something Molly particularly liked because she blushed. She never blushed, which said much about the vulnerable state she was in.
Molly laid her head on Paul, continuing to scrub at his arms. The moment had gone from angry and volatile to tender and loving in an instant.
Grace nodded to herself. She was an extra now, a lump in a room occupied by only two people. Neither of them noticed as she gave them both an adoring smile, and, true to her name, gathered her things and left gracefully. Closing the door behind her.
She was sure there would be more to come between her and Molly, she did try to snake her boy after she had asked her to back off, but that was a problem for another day.
She was still crazy horny, which was unfortunate. Maybe Amy was up for a spin, her love of girlcock wasn't as singularly focused as Paul's.
Back in the apartment, Molly turned off the water and huffed.
"It's not coming off," she mumbled, mostly to herself even though Paul was right next to her. She grabbed a towel and dried them both off. "You're wearing long sleeves to the office until this crap comes off. If people start calling me Mulpy, you're fired."
She kept avoiding looking at Paul for too long, choosing to ramble and keep the subject off her impromptu 'I think I'm falling for you' declaration.
"You're going to have to look at me eventually," Paul said.
"No. I can smell your smugness."
"What is there to be smug about?"
"Two women fighting over you, one going topless, the other... maybe in love with you even though they barely know you. Not that I don't blame you. I'd be smug if I were you."
"Oh. That. I hardly noticed," Paul lied, smugly. "Are you and Grace going to be ok?"
Molly nodded. "Grace has been my best friend since before I was published. She's the only reason Denton Publishing ever got off the ground. We've been through a lot. This isn't the first fight we've had a fight, and it won't be the last. We'll be back to normal after we yell at each other some more."
Paul had a thought that 'normal' between those two wasn't too much more peaceful than what had just occurred in his apartment.
He took Molly's hand and moved them over to sit next to each other on his bed. Molly immediately went to fish out his cock but was stopped by Paul. Confused, Molly finally looked into Paul's eyes, still nervous, but unable to delay any longer. She was hoping a little foreplay would distract them both for a while longer.
What if he didn't feel the same? Grace was right. It hasn't been nearly long enough with Paul for the 'L' word to start being thrown around.
"My dick hurts," said Paul.
Not what Molly was expecting. She was thankful for the brief reprieve, though.
"I'm not surprised." Molly replied, "I've been using it almost non-stop. Your virility is impressive... for a man." She winked at him. "So, is that your way of saying you don't want to fuck tonight?"
"That's my way of saying I don't want to use my dick to fuck tonight."
Molly shivered. It would be a lie to say she hadn't been thinking about his warm, tight ass all the way over to his apartment.
She'd packed up and gotten in her car to come see Paul not sure what type of reception she'd receive. She had a certainty it wouldn't be negative in any regard, but beyond that, she didn't know. Sex would be nice, but not required. She would've been happy just to sleep next to him. She had no desire to sleep alone after knowing what it was like to have Paul there, even once.
What was the point of a bed without Paul in it?
Paul reached over and moved Molly's large hoodie up and over her rapidly stiffening member.
No panties, just bare girlcock.
He watched in awe as it grew, like there was no limit to it. He was almost jealous. Not at her size, because what was the point of that, but at her constant readiness. He hadn't even touched her and she was ready to fuck.
"Sex demon," Paul muttered, repeating himself.
Molly giggled, then stopped as she saw Paul go uncharacteristically serious.
He was glaring at her, all hints of sarcasm and humor gone from his face. He reached out and grabbed her massive cock possessively.
"Mine. Only mine," declared Paul, mimicking Molly's claim on him.
Molly nodded quickly in agreement, wilting at his words. She could have cum from his tone alone. No man had ever made her feel like more of who she was while holding her big fat cock the way Paul was doing now. She was a woman with big dick, and Paul was somehow stroking both of those opposed parts of her.
It made her both want to cuddle into his arms like his sweet girl should; and throw him down on the bed and fuck his tiny boy hole with her monster girlmeat until he screamed for her to stop.
Paul let go of Molly and slid deeper onto the bed, removing his pants in the process.
Molly stood and faced him, admiring his naked body in a new way. It had a unique quality that could only be explained by the exclusivity of it. If this worked out, she would be the only person to ever look at him the way she was now. An owning of him, if only for the moment.
Lust and anticipation shot down from her heart to her cock, and it jumped as it hovered out over the bed. Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and dragged it up, holding it tight to her body as she lifted, carrying her heavy breasts up along with it.
In one final move, Molly jerked the sweater off, letting her tits drop. They slapped down against her chest and each other as they moved and tried to settle. They bounced, they jiggled, they swayed. They sung harmonies of the flesh that almost made Paul clap and demand an encore.
Molly was ever the showman.
Reaching into the front pocket of her shirt before discarding it, she pulled out a bottle of lubricant.
"Why do you always seem to have lube nearby?" asked Paul, bemused.
"Same reason a normal girl always carries tampons... just in case things happen."
She smirked. Paul glowered, if only to give Molly the satisfaction that he was bothered by the implied promiscuity of the statement.
"Besides," Molly added, "every room you and I have been in together since we met has included the use of lube to some degree. I hedged my bet your apartment wouldn't be any different."
"That does seem the pattern."
Molly started lubricating herself, coating her girlcock from base to tip in a generous amount of the slick substance.
Paul watched, a thrill shooting through him knowing where Molly intended to put her hard, needy prick. He looked up into Molly's eyes in question.
"Lay flat on your stomach," she said in answer.
Paul did, and as soon as he was in place, Molly got onto the bed and crawled until she was positioned over his prone form on all fours. She used one of her hands to line her cockhead up with Paul's entrance and pushed forward sharply, lodging her mushroom tip through Paul's tight pucker with force.
"Ahh, fuck!" yelled Paul, losing his breath.
He hadn't been expecting the abruptness of Molly's thrust. He was so used to her trying to take care of him he half expected some long-drawn-out session of stretching and loosening.
"I know, sweety," said Molly, trying to overcome how good it felt to be back inside Paul's ass, "I know that hurt. Sorry. From our previous conversation, I thought you might prefer the more direct approach."
Paul nodded in agreement. It hurt far more than the first time she fucked him, most likely due to the small plug he'd been using at the time, but this way got him to the good parts far quicker than if he or Molly insisted on 'proper' foreplay.
He added in his own mind a budding concern that he might actually enjoy the pain and ache that accompanied being opened wide by Molly in such a violent manner. As much as having a small penchant for masochism would never be a fun self-realization to anyone, and assuming he wasn't romanticizing the moment, enjoying the feeling of being ripped in two by giant dicks would be helpful in the long run during a time with Molly.
"There's more. Much more," assured Molly, as if intentionally petting Paul's quiet concern, "Take a deep breath, Paul."
Paul inhaled fully. When he reached the peak of his lungs, Molly pushed, forcing the air back out in a rush. She didn't thrust or jab, start and stop, or wait for him to adjust. She trusted in gravity and the slickness of her coated cock to guide her in one insistent, steady movement until she was fully buried.
Paul gasped, regardless of his preemptive deep breath. The invasion of his body made him sweat and shiver from the pressure he felt. He moaned. His body throbbed, carried away by the internal rearrangements inflicted by Molly's sledgehammer of a cock. He was relieved it didn't hurt like he thought it would, at least not in the same way it had when Molly had first entered him. It wasn't the most comfortable his ass had ever felt, but it was manageable.
And if this morning taught him anything, it was that buttholes are adjustable, given time and effort.
He felt Molly grind a bit, take herself out a few inches before shoving herself completely inside him again.
Molly was holding herself up by her arms and had her knees frogged out to either side of Paul's waist, her cock at rest inside his ass. She fell down to her elbows and pressed her soft tits into his back in a way she knew he would appreciate before she continued stretching him out.He felt warm. Paul's insides kept clenching and releasing her cock like they were unsure what to do with the invader.
She started to piston in and out of him slowly, taking long, full strokes, still only moving in ways meant to stretch him out more than any outright fucking. The hard part of initial penetration might be over, but Paul wasn't fully accepting of her size, and if she started going as hard as she wanted to, it was possible to she could hurt him.
It was why she used the butt plugs in the first place, not that such musing did Paul any good at this point. The sounds he was making beneath her, however, told her the experience was benefitting everyone involved no matter how they had gotten to this point.
She curled her body up and around him, trying to bring as much of herself in contact with Paul as she could manage. She wanted to feel him.
Paul welcomed her touch and even began participating by lifting his ass slightly, more to let Molly know he was into this and less because he thought Molly needed any help from him.
She kept up her methodical pacing for a while longer. She could feel the stirrings of her first orgasm somewhere in the background of her mind and body. That part could wait, she would get there eventually, right now she wanted to make this time with Paul last as long as she could.
It was more than a business relationship now. The days of unenthusiastic fucks with guys who cared little for her and more about what she was providing for them was going to be a thing of the past. All she had to do was not fuck this up and she could have Paul like this, or he could have her, without the nonsense of some stupid book coming between them.
Stupid book? That was an odd thought for Molly. Her writing was all she ever had, her first and only love, her obsession.
Not only. Not anymore.
So, what then? Did she still even want to write this book? Paul had done his part. Molly had been so full of words and ideas since meeting Paul it was a crime towards her career that she wasn't spending more of her time writing as much as she was playing with Paul.
It was only one day, though, wasn't it? She could wake up tomorrow and spend hours doing nothing but putting words to paper.
She tried that already. The reason she was here, at Paul's apartment, in the first place was because she was more interested in being with him than she was in progressing any other part of her life.
This wasn't like her.
"Fuck Molly, you're going to make me cum," said Paul, who was now pushing himself back faster and harder onto the girlcock impaling him.
Molly hadn't even noticed he was doing it she was so lost in her thoughts.
Then his entire body clenched around her. Paul moaned her name, and all but begged Molly for more as he came into the sheets.
He begged for her cock. No one had ever done that. Hearing him beg for her triggered something in Molly she thought she was too mature, too successful, too in control to ever let happen again.
She dug her face into the pillow next to Paul's and lost herself, pumping faster and harder.
Girlish moans escaped from Molly's lips, muffled as they were by the bedding. She nailed him into the mattress with her weighty cock through Paul's fuck-hole. She clenched her ass, thrusting her pelvis hard, trying to reach deeper.
Slow and methodical was gone now. Her pace and force had quickened to an animalistic level Molly could no longer slow even if Paul needed her to.
The pinnacle approached fast and against her will. She wanted this to last longer, but she also wanted to destroy Paul's ass and leave him heaving in a puddle of her seed.
This is what she was meant for, right? To fuck? To give in to her base desires and breed everyone like a filthy fucking whore? That's what all dickgirls did, why should she be any different?
She looked down and saw Paul was sliding further up the bed every time Molly thrust into him. His hands were against the wall, but they looked too weak to keep himself from hitting his head against it. He'd stopped thrusting back into her and had almost gone limp. If it wasn't for his groaning he could have been thought to be passed out.
She knew once she came Paul would need her out of him, if only to recover from what she was doing to him.
She was hurting him. She had to be. Normal people weren't meant to take cocks as big as hers up their ass, especially not with the force and violence she was using.
Still, she didn't stop. Her mind was screaming at her to relax, to get control, but her body was doing anything but.
Her orgasm started to rock her, making her lose it even more. She was running on instinct now and fucked Paul with pure, undiluted dickgirl aggression, penetrating the man she was falling for with full, violent strokes she knew would be too much of a violation for Paul to withstand on only his second time with her.
She wasn't ready for Paul to see this part of her yet. Who would love a monster that could lose control and hurt him because she was too weak to slow down, too base to care for his wellbeing?
In the normal world, with normal people, Molly was barely more than raw lust and sex reaching for a dream of love and comfort she thought she didn't deserve. She was going to lose something precious after this, but there was nothing for it. Strip a person down to their base desires and they will always become a monster.
There was no stopping it.
That dirty, instinctive urge to fuck drove her on regardless of feelings. Her breath heaved, her cock thrust, her balls boiled, and when she came, the lights in the room around her shone brighter and clearer than she had ever known they could.
Flood.
Flood was the only word on Molly's mind as she filled Paul's ass. Each new spurt of girlcum caused what she had already unloaded to squirt and drip out of Paul's hole onto the sheets below. Each uncontrollable thrust of the animal between her legs squelched and sprayed the evidence of her weakness into everything she had ever wanted, mocking that she could ever think she deserved something peaceful.
Molly hammered down on the bell of debauchery and sin, ringing out a dirge to the lewd primacy she couldn't help but indulge.
It took minutes for Molly to stop. The cuming had waned some time ago, but she refused to let go of the orgasm. Refused to accept that this was the end, and that her poor, greedy girlcock would once again be alone and unloved in the cold air of the apartment.
Paul could never love her after this.
She fell into herself at the shame of what she was doing. It was disgusting. It was everything she told herself she'd never be. A walking, raging hard-on with no self-control.
She finally slipped from atop Paul and rolled to her side, bringing her cock with her, and releasing Paul from the prison she had forced him into. Her cock was still hard, and she ached for more.
She closed her eyes and struggled to catch her breath, almost letting her gasps turn to sobs, afraid of what Paul would say or think of her.
Her lamentations were interrupted by a warm body snuggling itself close, cozying its way into her sweaty form. A hand reached between them and grabbed her hard cock and started doing something with it, but Molly wasn't sure what. The body in front of her shuffled, adjusting itself in some way, and like that, she felt warm again.
She heard a whisper.
"Please Molly, I need more of you."
Paul. He wasn't mad or hurt or screaming condemnations at her for taking advantage of his willingness to have her.
He sounded... desperate.
He moved again, and more warmth enveloped Molly's cock.
It finally hit her what was happening.
Paul had curled himself into her spent body, taken her into his gentle hands and guided her back where she so selfishly wanted to be.
She thrust, probing to see if it was true. She sunk deeper. Paul moaned and pushed down, forcing even more of her hard cock inside of him.
Molly questioned everything. There was no way this was real.
"We can stop if you want," said Paul quietly, as if ashamed of what he was doing, "I just... you said you could keep going, you know, longer."
More? Longer?
Molly didn't understand. She was a ravager, a taker, someone willing to forsake another's body for the pleasures of her own... and yet?
"Please Molly? Just a little longer. You're still so hard."
He sounded almost guilty to Molly, like it was his lusts that were ruining everything.
She felt Paul wiggle again, but the positioning and her own hesitancy prevented him the leverage he needed to sink any lower onto her.
Paul sighed at his failure, too cock drunk to understand Molly's non-involvement in his efforts as anything other than rejection.
Even the ever-insatiable dickgirl, Molly Denton, his perfect, sweet girl, didn't want him after he had lost his usefulness.
No good as an author. No good as an editor. No good as a lover.
Pathetic.
Here lies the quake, drowning in the stillness of its own insecurity to shake the earth.
What a waste.
Everything was quiet for a few more moments, both lovers seemingly lost on their own fears or inadequacy.
It was Molly who moved first, thrusting her hips and driving her cock deeper into Paul.
He rippled, the force breaking him from his thoughts.
Molly dug her arms under Paul's and gripped his shoulders, holding him tight while thrusting again and pulling his body low to meet hers.
She curled her knees up until they met the back of Pauls' and locked her ankles with his, intertwining their legs. She thrust her hips again and buried her girlcock fully in Paul's hole.
Paul brought his free hand back around their bodies and grabbed Molly's ass, his hand gripping into her soft, pillowy cheek. He squeezed hard and did his best to pull her even closer into him.
The action accomplished little, Molly was again in control here. The gesture of grabbing her ass, however, meant more to Molly than she knew how to comprehend.
Paul needed her as much as she needed him.
She'd gone so long believing love and sex were separate things. That in order to have one, she needed to control the other. Paul's hand on her ass all but begging her to destroy his body, again, with her giant girlcock told her that here, with him, love and sex knew nothing of a superficial boundary.
The only regrets she would have when they finally tore themselves away from each other were the few empty minutes she had wasted letting Paul feel like she could ever have enough of him.
"You feel perfect," Molly said reassuringly.
And to show him how much she meant it, Molly brought her hips away until more than half of her cock slipped out of Paul and drilled back into him without mercy.
She did it again and again, bringing them up to an unforgiving rhythm that only intensified when Molly heard Paul moan and grunt for her to fuck him harder.
The frenzied dickgirl kept Paul locked in place with her arms and legs and fucked with her entire body behind each thrust. She wanted to penetrate so deep into him she could see her cockhead escaping from his mouth on the other end.
Sweat poured from her and her muscles ached from the constant strain she had them under. None of it mattered. The thought that she had been 'out of control' before was laughable. In her arms was a release from denial and she used him to vent a lifetime of unfulfillment.
Paul clenched his ass around Molly as he came. His body had gone submissive to Molly's desire save for his hand on her ass, which held on to her as if it were the only tether keeping him grounded.
Molly rammed herself home a final time and unleashed a new wave of her cum into Paul. She locked herself inside of him, not needing the added stimulation of continued thrusts to help her ride out her high.
The two of them now looked so still, if anyone were to see them from the outside the two of them would look like two normal lovers cuddling in bed after a stressful day.
On the inside, however, Molly's cock bathed in a pool of her own juices, twitching and convulsing with each additional spurt she unloaded, Paul milking her as best he knew how with his used ass.
Molly refused to let go of Paul this time and kept her once 'evil' appendage lodged deep inside the only man who had ever made her feel this good, this accepted.
Paul had come into her life a whirlwind of inspiration and fun. He was interesting and funny and looked at Molly as if she were a goddess made real. She yearned for his presence near her, so much so she had driven to his shit apartment so she wouldn't have to be away for even one night.
She had tried to settle herself in at home and write her new book while Paul was gone, knowing he would be back soon enough in the morning. The words had been in her mind pushing to come out onto the page, yet none did.
She thought it was just the newness of it. That eventually she would get used to having him around and her priorities would reset. It would become less about him and more about the book.
Paul untangled himself from Molly's embrace. She whimpered as her cock slipped fully from his ass in the move.
The disappointment didn't last long, though. Paul was moving only so he could turn around and bury his face in her sweaty tits. Molly held him close and squeezed her massive mounds around his head.
The only place she may love having Paul as much as when he's sheathed on her cock is having him buried in her tits in whatever way he pleased.
He spent some time sucking and licking and teasing her nipples before coming up for air and bringing himself eye level with Molly. He smiled and took all of her into his arms, embracing her tightly.
Molly would have been happy to stay like this, laying together calmly until they both fell asleep, but Paul had other ideas.
He threw a leg over her ample waist and his hands went to her hard cock and brought the tip back up to his entrance. Molly didn't hesitate this time and immediately thrust herself inside, the rest of her body still snuggled close into his.
"That's my sweet girl," said Paul, sighing as he held Molly in his arms and in his ass, "my turn to take care of you."