The Broken

Though I had been living on my own for two years, enjoying a life of debauchery and sin, I did so as a broken man, estranged and separated from my wife. The day she became my legal ex is a black blur in my mind, even today: many years, two children, and a grandchild later. The day after, however, I remember in perfect clarity, as if it were just yesterday. That was the day I met Nikki.

The ink on the divorce papers was still wet when I let Nikki into my apartment. Still drunk and buzzing from the night before, I was ready to lose myself in another one night stand, certain the woman in front of me was just another online whore preying on a newly single, bitter, blogger.

She matched her profile fairly well, proving to be exactly the five-foot brunette described, and radiating that 'college girl with daddy issues' vibe. Nikki claimed to be just a fellow blogger wanting to check up on me; from my experiences, I knew that to be just a cover story. The night would see her sucking my cock, getting impaled on my dick, and then disappearing forever. Tomorrow night would be the same tale with a different fair maiden. That was my personal history since the separation, repeating itself nightly.

"Welcome to Castle Lannister," I greeted her; she claimed to be well read and my reference to a decently obscure novel did not go unnoticed. I earned a smile from her glossy lips.

"I do hope you don't intend to role-play with me as your sister, ever," she quipped as she followed my gesture and walked in.

"Only if you want to," I said as I shut the door, doing my best to ignore the noise from the dozens of kids running wild in the apartment commons. The brats' squealing and screaming were grating on my nerves and drawing out the beginnings of a headache that I had hoped would wait until after my disposable fuck-toy had left.

I turned to see her place her purse on the coffee table, her perfectly round ass pushed upward as she bent forward. My cock stirred and began to wake.

Not wanting to be accused of being inhospitable, I took a step toward her, "Can I offer you a drink?"

"If you have it, a Coke would be nice. If not, water's fine," she replied as she  surveyed the tiny, cramped space. I lived in a single bedroom apartment, barely larger than an efficiency, with furniture hobbled together from garage sales and the discount warehouse across the highway; for a crazy moment, I almost apologized for my throw together decor.

"Coke it is. Have a seat, make yourself at home," I carefully made my way around the little living area to to the kitchen. It was barely big enough to house the stove, sink, and fridge, the latter of which was pretty bare of anything but takeout leftovers and the essentials: beer, Coke, ketchup, and cream cheese for the bagels on top of the fridge.

I opened the red aluminum can as I handed it to her and took a seat next to her on the ratty couch. The sleeper sofa had seen better days, none of them with me.

Nikki took a sip of the soda, then turned toward me. She brought a leg up on to the cushion, resting her drink in her lap while leaning an arm on the back of the couch. "So, Joe, how are you doing? You look like you partied hard last night."

I grimaced, "Call me Mark; Joe's just the alter ego I let loose on the internet. It was quite the pity party last night, and I'm sure my liver will be killing me soon as payback."

Nikki smiled a sad smile, the one no man likes to see - even when it leads to pity sex. "I figured 'JustJoeBlow95' was an alias. I wish I could have stopped by last night; it sounds like you could have used a friend."

"Oh, I had plenty of friends," I joked, "Jack and Jose's much cheaper cousins left quite a mess."

She rolled her eyes, "Well, Mark, you seem to have survived, which is good." She took another sip out of the can, "I just hope you are able to keep up with me, tonight. I mean, with you being so hung over and all."

I let loose the biggest debonair grin I could, "A little headache never killed anyone. Besides, there is a natural cure for such things." I winked.

From behind the cutest blush I had ever seen, Nikki responded, "I'm sure something can be done to help you out. I just want to give you fair warning, don't expect a lot from me; I'm no expert at anything."

While I didn't doubt her - she was young, after all - I figured she was being a bit modest. Nikki's blog, Nikki's Locks & Licks, detailed her sex life, which had, up until a month prior, been with her three year, college sweetheart boyfriend. She had described their encounters, her submissive nature, and their breakup. Since then, she claimed, she wrote out merely fantasies, cataloging what she would want in a man. I felt pleased to know that I fit many of those criteria.

"Surely there is something you are good at; you can't be all the klutz and technique void wench Whats-His-Nuts claims." My sincerity was lost in my laugh, "I'm sure that gorgeous mouth of yours is phenomenal."

My chest hurt at her reply: her eyes downcast and a disappointed look took over her face, "That is the one thing I absolutely suck at, no pun intended."

Never before had such a look tugged at me the way it did that night. The ache in my chest was just the beginning; the pain fell heavy down into my stomach and then into my groin. My cock woke fully, straining in my jeans. She looked absolutely beautiful and weak. I tried to ignore it, knowing it was wrong to push and explore the validity of her claim, knowing I could break the young woman before me if she was honest and I wasn't careful. After following her blog for awhile, however, the thought occurred that she could be playing coy to draw me in. The lingering alcohol in my blood wanted to force her head into my lap and test her right there.

My voice betrayed my inner struggle, "I'm sure he didn't know what he was talking about; most boys don't grow up until long after college." I spoke from experience with that fact; true maturity and sexual maturity were two different things and one did not necessarily mean the other was imminent.

Nikki's lips upturned in a shy, weak smile, "If you want, I can prove to you how bad I am. But you have to promise to not get mad."

"Mad? I will only get upset if you aren't trying."

"I will do the best I can," she said as she slipped off the couch. In one single motion, she placed her soda can on the coffee table and rested on her knees in front of me. Her eyes locked on mine as her hands moved to my belt, "Do you want this here, or in the recliner?"

Seeing the young woman on her knees, eager to please me, brought forth a growl as my inner voice screamed 'MINE!'. "Here would be fine, but," Nikki flinched minutely; again, my chest clenched, "I have a chair specifically for this in the bedroom." I grabbed her hands and helped her stand, then led her down a short, narrow hallway, past the kitchenette, to the bedroom, my throbbing cock pointing the way.

One of my random garage-sale finds was an old, low seated wingback recliner from the 1970s. It was upholstered in a soft, faux-suede that felt like velvet after so many years. It had been dubbed 'the blow job chair' because the low seating was just the right height and angled perfectly for optimal cock sucking and the well used cushion was a luxurious cloud consistency for any man to relax in.

"Here," I sat into the recliner and helped Nikki to her knees, "This is better." I lifted her chin to look in her face, "Don't do anything different. I want your best, but I want you. If I want you to change something, I will tell you. Understand?" She nodded. "That's not a clear answer. Where has your voice gone?" My slight stern tone surprised me.

She cleared her throat, "Yes, I understand," there was a tiny hesitation before she finished, "Sir."

I had never been called 'Sir' before. My cock twitched at the title. Something about the little minx in front of me was troubling me; no woman had ever pulled so much from me with so little. I mentally shook myself and relaxed into the chair, drawing her hands to my erect, trapped dick.

Tentatively, her fingers traced the outline of my hardness through my jeans. I watched as she bit her lower lip, but I could not say if it was in concentration or due to nerves; I can say it was cute on her. As her fingers reached the tip of my erection, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her breasts stretched her shirt, the rhinestone letters glittering in the dying light of the sunset peeking through the cheap plastic shades. The woman had not even begun and I suddenly feared an early ending - I was far from a teenage boy, but Nikki was sending me into a tailspin.

Her hands took hold of my belt and I had a moment of reprieve. The black leather slowly inched out of the gold buckle, then her fingers fumbled with the button of my jeans.

"Here, let me get that," I said as I brushed her hands aside. Most women smile appreciatively, but not Nikki. No, she gained a look of disappointment, like she had already failed me. I hated that look and a fire lit inside my chest; had that ex-boyfriend of hers already broken her? I wanted to hunt him down and beat his ass.

I squashed that sudden notion. I barely knew the woman in front of me, and, besides, I was no shining knight to defend the honor of any woman.

I unzipped my jeans, carefully adjusting my stiff cock as I did to let it out of my boxers. There would be no need to undress further until I had Nikki bare to the world first. I guided her hands to my exposed cock and watched her eyes take in what I had to offer. I knew I was not the biggest stud in the stable, but I held my own when it came time to compare qualities. Her mouth quirked into a faint smile before she licked her lips and lowered her head to my lap. Her hands wrapped around me first while her tongue darted out to lap at the tip, reminiscent of a kitten stealing a single taste of cream. Then there was another, longer lick, that started where her hands ended and brushed all the way up. Her hands never moved up, they remained locked around the base of my cock, her fingers intertwined, pulsing. She gently squeezed in time with her licks, the sensation of which felt amazing.

The tempo she kept with her fingers never changed. Her tongue drew circles around the head of my cock before she finally locked her lips around me. Her mouth was bliss. She worked agonizingly slow, lowering her head and removing single fingers from her grip with each dip down, replacing them again with each lift of her mouth. Her lips never lost contact with my dick, but as she fell halfway down my shaft, she removed her left hand and lightly scratched down my thigh with the tip of her long, manicured nails. I grabbed the arm of the chair, my knuckles white with my effort to not push her as far down as she could go. Her hand moved in time with her head, down to my knee and up to tickle my balls, reaching them just as her lips locked around the base of my cock. The pulsing of her fingers around my hard member was replaced by a warm, soft stroke of her tongue that spanned my entire length, with the head of my cock lost in her throat. The sensations of her deep-throating me, her nails dancing on my balls and tracing my thigh were overwhelming.

In a breathless moment, I gripped her hair and yanked her back, pulling my dick out of her mouth with a delicious 'pop' - noting as I did so that her teeth never once grated my skin. Expert skill, she had.

"You are a fucking liar," I growled, my passionate outburst surprising me; I had intended to stroke her hair and praise her, not roughly pull her off me to lean in for a kiss. The kiss never happened, though. Through my half-lidded eyes, I saw her terror, raw and painted pale across her face, and I froze.

I relaxed my grip, confused; part of me wanted to pin her beneath me on the carpet and fuck her brains out, claiming her on a very basic level as mine, while another wanted to take back my outburst, apologize, and pull her in to shield her from the world. I knew in that instant that she had not been playing me; the fear was too real.

"I...b-but..." Nikki squeaked.

"Hush," I shushed her as I drew my hand through her hair and down her cheek, resting my thumb on her plump lips. Her skin was soft and warm. Her lips, swollen from sucking my cock, held my gaze. They were mesmerizing. Her breath was hot on my finger. Focused on that one part of her, I whispered to her, "You are not a 'talentless bitch'."

Nikki tried to speak, but I would have no protests. I slipped the tip of my thumb past her open lips and rubbed her tongue.

"What you did," I continued, "was absolutely phenomenal." She started to suckle my finger, her tongue dancing under it just like she had done to my cock. "Yes, that," I moaned, "is what you do so well." I leaned down, pulled my hand away, and closed the distance between our mouths. Her lipgloss had smeared off onto my cock, but the taste of sugary watermelon remained.

The sweet taste went to my head and I found myself wanting more. I pressed further, opening my mouth wider, wanting to devour her. I caught her lips in my teeth and nipped at her flesh. It wasn't enough.

I pulled back and growled, "Stand up." Nikki stood quickly, her hair disheveled from my hand and her face flushed from the kiss. I remained leaned forward in the chair, and, with Nikki on her feet, her waist was nearly level with my head. I could smell how wet she was. It was a sweet smell. I wondered if she tasted as delicious as that scent implied.

I reached out and grabbed her around the waist and tossed her back onto the bed as I stood up out of the chair. She was light enough that it was no strain. I kicked off my shoes as I moved the few feet to the bed and dropped out of my pants, my boxers falling with the jeans. At the edge of the bed, I yanked her skirt down over her heels, and pulled her legs wide. She wore no panties, no thin strip of cloth, nothing. Aside from a very trimmed and playful patch of hair, she was shaved clean. She was drenched and glistening. Nikki just stared, confusion and arousal warring for control of her face.

"You are beautiful," I said, and I meant it, as I, none to gracefully, dropped to my knees and slid her open pussy toward me. The comforter bunched around her, but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms under her thighs and lifted her ass above the blanket, off the bed, bringing that sweet smell to my mouth. I buried my face between her legs, drinking down her juices like a thirst-crazed man. My tongue sank as deep as it would go in her pussy; she tasted like honey and I wanted every drop I could get. Like her kiss, I needed more. I held firm, digging my fingers into her legs, and pressed deeper. Nikki's flesh filled my my hands as she squirmed and her moans began escaping into the room. It was a heavenly sound. Basic logic dictated that if I wanted more of that sound, I should keep doing what I was doing, but I knew that wouldn't be enough. I shifted my grasp, lowered her a little, and brought my mouth down on her clit. The moment I made contact, she screamed, arched up off the bed, and drenched my chin.

That was when I dropped her, gently, and climbed up beside her. I propped myself on my elbow and watched Nikki float in ecstasy. She was a curiosity; she was young, naive, and convinced she wasn't worth a damn in bed. She was also making me want to show her how wrong she was, fold her in my arms and never let her go. She dragged forth a possessive quality I had never known existed within me.

Her haze-clouded eyes locked on mine, "That was spectacular." She sounded drunk, drawing out the words and slurring them together. I smiled, knowing I had done that to her. "C'mere," she reached up and pulled at my shirt - somehow we were both still wearing the pesky things - and her soft lips locked on mine. This time she made the kiss sloppy, exploring my mouth, my lips, my stubbled cheeks, and my chin. It caught me off guard when I realized what she was up to and I laughed.

"Do I taste good?"

"Mhmm," she continued, lapping her own juices off my face. Her eyes danced playfully when she backed away, "You didn't think I would leave you to get sticky face, did you? Besides," she giggled, "you gotta admit, I am the one that tastes good."

I couldn't argue with that, so I didn't try. I actually found myself at a loss for words staring in her eyes. For the first time in years, I felt content, happy, and like everything was right in the world.

"Mark..." Nikki's whisper broke through to me. Her eyes faded to a haunted, sad look. "Mark, why didn't you fuck me?"

"Because," I traced a finger down her face, "You don't deserve to be fucked," I grabbed her chin and kept her from looking away, "you deserve to be loved." I lowered and kissed her, silencing a protest I was sure would follow her gasp. As Nikki relaxed into the kiss, I spread my fingers over her cheek and down to the back of her neck, pulling her as close as I could. Her arching back pressed her breasts into my chest, and I could tell there was no bra between us - just the damn shirts.