Falling for Her
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2010 by Dreamer I Be

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 3 - John Garson was a lady's man. When Ronnie propositioned him, he was happy to come along for the ride. It wasn't until after John met Ronnie's husband that he really FELL for her.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Cheating   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Size   Violence  

"You ready to make your choice?" Carl asked. "Actually, you need to think fast."

With a gesture from Carl, Thing One and Thing Two lifted me to my feet, frog-marched me to the edge of the building and hoisted me onto the low parapet. They stood off a few feet to each side. Carl had followed behind, leading a reluctant Ronnie by her elbow. He positioned her in front of me and stood directly behind her. All avenues of escape were blocked.

Had the architects measured us and planned it, they could not have made the height of that low wall around the roof more perfect. Ronnie's mouth was at exactly crotch level. She looked up at me with fear in her eyes.

Carl continued his cruel goading. "Well, get to it," he said. "It's getting late and some of us have to get up in the morning. Come on, Ronnie. It's not like you've never done this before."

Ronnie licked her lips, but they stayed dry. I could feel it when she took my soft cock in her mouth. Her tongue flicked out and stroked my shaft, and it was just as dry.

"Pitiful. It looks like both of you are flying tonight. I told you he has no feelings for you, Ronnie. He's not even trying to get hard. And you, you gave better blowjobs when you were twelve."

I realized at that moment that Carl was completely serious about killing me and about possibly killing Ronnie. I was reacting in stress before this, but now it settled in.

There are several stages of grief and I blew through them in a matter of seconds. I probably skipped over some, but I was grieving for myself and grieving for the future, or my lack thereof, so maybe the rules are a bit different.

I had, I realized, already been in denial. I got angry for a few moments, at Carl, at Ronnie, at myself, at God, even at the guys who built the building. It passed.

I was set to try bargaining with Carl, but one look at his face and I knew it would be a waste of time. I'd tried to lie to him already, and I had nothing with which to bargain. I decided to keep what dignity I had.

The depression took a minute or so to move through as Ronnie began to work desperately on my still soft penis. I say penis here, because it was as if it was someone else's. I felt detached from the situation. Perhaps I was going through a little more denial.

Soon though, I came to grips with the end of my life. I was no saint, to be sure. I had little respect for wedding vows, but I tried to help out people when I could. I kept my promises, although, to be honest, I fudged a little on what constituted a promise.

When I met Ronnie, she was just a lay. She was gorgeous and hot as an August day in hell, but just a lay. Over those few months, I began to appreciate her for more than just her mouth and ass. I was nowhere near in love with her, but I was in like. I didn't blame her for the mess I was in. I was a big boy and had made my own decisions, even if I used my smaller head. I saw no need for her to die alongside me. I made my choice.

I had now reached acceptance of my impending death and made my decision to try to spare Ronnie. The old saying is that two heads are better than one, and both of mine were now in accord.

Ronnie, as I looked down, was sweating. She had been hard at work while I was off contemplating my demise. As I looked down, she looked up. Our eyes met and my cock began to harden. I could see the relief in her eyes.

Her hands were still bound behind her. From my new angle I could see the glint of the metal around her wrists. All her work on me had been lips, tongue and neck.

I had never had trouble getting hard before. When I got hard, I got off. What was so difficult about that? Of course, I'd never had an audience waiting to kill me before. Still, orgasms were easy, weren't they? I didn't notice then that my mind was drifting again, despite Ronnie's efforts.

Everyone would agree, I mused, that not all orgasms are created equal. Sometimes all you get is a grunt and a squirt. Sometimes your orgasm and ejaculation are off by a second or two. Once or twice, don't lie, you just wish that you could fake an orgasm like a woman can.

Now and again, the constellations align and you get to have a glorious, awe-inspiring cum. Your eyes roll back and you can't control your limbs. Your body thrusts spasmodically. You twitch and you can't breathe right. Muscles lock up. You can't control yourself and you couldn't care less. Afterwards, your worst enemy could ask you for the pink slip on your car and you'd just murmur, 'OK, ' and smile some more.

What is an orgasm, after all? It's the involuntary contraction of genital muscles followed by the rapid release of tension in those muscles; the more tension, the greater the release.

 
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