Authors: Eve Kaye
A hard smack landed on my ass cheek. My body flinched as the burn seeped in.
“Owww, Jake,” I said. I wasn’t joking. It stung.
“Do it now,” he said. “Don’t make me wait.”
He smacked my other ass cheek, before I even had a chance to respond. The sting brought fresh tears to my eyes. I shouldn’t have worn mascara today.
It hurt, for sure.
But my pussy responded too. Waves of heat and wetness washed through me. I pulled myself up and straddled Psyche’s waist.
Jake climbed up behind me. His cock swatted my ass cheek. Right on the sting his palm had just left. The hot burn melted into me. He pulled the scarf from my neck and bent me over.
“Slip your hands through her arms,” he said.
I leaned forward. My tight, wet mound jutted out. Exposed to the air and Jake’s gaze. I wrapped my arms through Psyche’s, my hands under her head. My cheek next to Cupid’s. Both of us just inches from her lips.
Jake leaned into me. His heat on my back. His weight pressed me down.
“Stay still,” he said, “Don’t make me spank you again.”
“I’ll be a good girl,” I said. “I promise I’ll do whatever you say.”
I meant it. Those spankings hurt. My ass was toasty warm.
“That’s better.”
He wrapped the scarf around my wrists, clamping them tight together under Psyche’s head. Then wrapped more of it around my elbows, pulling them close together around her neck. I yanked back, and couldn’t move an inch.
It was like one of those deers you see strapped across the front of a truck. It was fucking scary. Those deers don’t make it back to the forest.
But Jake was only going to punish me, and only because I deserved it.
My breasts rested on Psyche’s much cooler version. Supported by Cupid’s strong arm, just as hers were. My warm, soft cheek rested against his cool, hard one. Black mascara smeared off onto the white marble.
“Spread your legs,” Jake said.
I didn’t want to. I already felt too vulnerable. Too out of control.
Smack.
My ass cheek stung. A hand print of fire.
“Don’t make me wait.”
I spread my legs. Without warning, he plunged a finger into my soaked pussy. It parted my swollen lips and squished in. My back arched as a shock wave of tingles flashed inward. His finger pushed through the gate of tight muscle inside me. Another finger thrust into me. It landed on the wall just inside my belly. He stroked there and my body shuddered in response.
Oh my god.
The pad of his thumb pushed up the hood at the top of my wet groove. It rubbed my clit from side to side as his fingers plunged in and out of me.
My lower back dipped and I opened myself more. I wanted him inside me. All of him. I needed it.
I tried to fuck his fingers, but my bound arms kept me from rocking back.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you,” he said.
“Yes Jake,” I said, “please. I need your cock. Need it inside my wet pussy.”
His palm landed on my ass cheek with a resounding smack.
The sting made the silky glove inside me clench hard. I felt every ridge and bump on his fingers.
“Not yet,” he said. “Because you’ve been a bad girl. And bad girls don’t get what they want.”
I strained back, trying to shove myself further onto his probing fingers. His fingers hammered into me. His thumb shoved up into my clit with every thrust.
“Jake,” I moaned. “Please. Please.”
He yanked his fingers out of me.
The quick withdrawal and emptiness inside took my breath away. I panted and whined a little. Like a kitty begging to be rubbed.
“Kiss her,” he said.
I didn’t know what he meant.
“Kiss who,” I said.
Another smack landed on my ass. The skin burned and tingled. The warmth spread from my round cheeks down and inside, toward the spot inside me that begged for his attention.
“Kiss the woman in front of you,” Jake said.
Did he mean Psyche, the statue? I didn’t pause to think further because my ass didn’t need another lashing. I lowered my mouth to the cool white marble. Her lips were smooth and perfectly formed.
“Like this,” I asked.
I looked back. He stood behind me, slowly stroking his thick member.
“Yes,” he said. “Don’t stop. Kiss them both. Don’t stop if you know what’s good for you.”
I didn’t need to guess what that meant. I immediately turned back and ran my tongue across her lips. I felt the small imperfections in her stone skin. I raised my head to Cupid’s mouth and licked and tongued his frozen mouth.
It was so hot. Cold marble. But crazy hot. My pussy clenched, hungry for Jake’s cock. I kissed them both, back and forth. Warming the cool stone with my saliva. Black streaks of mascara rubbed off on their cheeks and lips.
“Good girl,” Jake said. His strong hands spread my ass cheeks apart. Opened up my swollen, slick lips. I heard the crinkly tear of plastic and then he moved his hips toward me.
His stiff rod edged up to my pussy.
I stopped for a moment, lost in the feeling of his imminent entrance.
And paid for it with another blistering slap on the ass.
Ouch. Fuck. That hurt.
And felt so damn good.
But fuck. Ouch.
“Don’t make me say it again,” Jake said.
“Sorry Jake,” I said. “It’s just that my tight little pussy wants your big cock so bad.”
“You don’t have a pussy,” he said. “You have a cunt. What does your cunt want?”
“Oh,” I said, “my cunt wants your big, yummy cock.”
He slid forward, pushed apart my lips and his head pushed through the muscles inside me.
Electric sparks filled me just as he did.
“Fuck my cunt, Jake,” I said.
“Bad girls have to beg for it,” he said.
I paused for an instant.
A glimmer of reality threatened to intrude. This was so fucked up. So utterly messed up. Jake was about to fuck me senseless on top of a famous sculpture in the Louvre. A sculpture that happened to mirror our own relationship in a beautiful and hideous way.
He tied me down to it, like he wanted me to understand the connection. Like he didn’t want me to get away from it.
Jesus, what if a thousand tourists flooded back into the gallery just as Jake was buried balls deep in me?
A flaming smack on my ass cheek brought me back to our immediate reality.
“Fuck my cunt,” I said. “Fuck my hot cunt. It’s the only thing I’m good for. A cunt for your big cock to fuck and come all over.”
His palm cracked my ass. The skin on my bottom was a confusing mess of hot stinging, tingly pain.
“I’m not coming inside you,” he said. “That’s not happening.”
“Sorry,” I said, “Come on my face. Just like Annika this morning. Is that what you want? To cover my face in your hot, sticky seed?”
I said it but I didn’t mean it. I wanted every last drop deep inside my silky glove. As much as the condom would allow at least.
He rocked forward, burying himself to the hilt inside me. His girth burned through my tight canal. Bumped up hard against my deepest wall. The impact sent a quick shock shuddering through me.
He was so thick and long. Like he was shoving up through my belly. He grabbed my hair and twisted my head back to face the two statue lovers. He held my hair with one hand and kept the other anchored on my hip. He pulled out of me, all the way to the tip and then slammed home again.
Holy shit.
He shoved my head forward. I resumed kissing the two frozen lovers. My tongue left hot trails of spit on their hard skin. The spit streaked through the mascara and left all three of us a mess.
“Beg,” he said as he thundered in and out of me. Stretching me open and just as fast emptying out. Over and over. An endless assault on my tender flesh.
“Fuck my cunt,” I said. “Please fuck it with your big cock.”
He groaned louder. Growled even. He was my beautiful, powerful wild animal. He was my mate. My mate ready to splash his impregnating seed inside me.
I’d never said it out loud. Not even in my own head. But the thought sent shivers through me. I wanted it so bad. I wanted his cock, his cum.
I wanted his baby. To grow his baby inside me.
I wanted to give him everything. Everything that Annika never would. It was so wrong. All of it. Horribly wrong.
But I didn’t care. He deserved it. He deserved everything I could give him.
I lathered the statues with my spit. Thick strands hung from my lips to hers. Jake pounded into me again and again.
Gravity broke. The world flipped and spun backwards. Tears of joy, pleasure, pain, regret, wonder, and ecstasy splashed down my cheeks.
“Fuck yes, Jules,” Jake said. “Your cunt is so sweet. So greedy for my cum.”
He panted. His breath fast and shallow.
“But you can’t have it,” he said. “You could get pregnant.”
He said it out loud!
Excitement rushed through me. Mixing into the whirlpool of my emotions.
“Fuck my cunt, Jake,” I screamed. Loud. “Fuck my cunt so hard and good.”
His balls slammed into my mound as he bottomed out inside me, over and over.
My pussy clenched so hard I thought my muscles locked up forever. Clenched his cock so hard he couldn’t pull out. His balls tensed up on my clit. He yanked my hair back and my neck strained with the pressure.
“Oh god, Jules,” he said. “Oh god, okay.”
“Cum in my cunt, Jake,” I yelled. “Cum inside your bad girl. Please Jake. Give me your seed.”
His cock exploded. The force sent it spurting out between his shaft, tight latex, and my tight lips around him.
I came. My silky gloved squeezed and milked him. My cum covering him. My hungry pussy drawing out gusher after gusher of his hot liquid. I finally felt the last little spurt and then he went still. My body clenched over and over as my climax slowly ebbed away.
Every bit of strength seeped out of me. I collapsed on Psyche’s cool marble waist. I was spent. Done. Filled up and finished.
Jake was such a man. He made such a woman of me. I loved him so much. I knew I could make a beautiful baby for him. If only he’d let me.
Jake slowly pulled out. His thick cock popped out and my cum dribbled out and down onto Psyche’s hard belly.
With more effort than I thought I could manage, I looked back at Jake. I blinked through the mascara, tears, and spit blurring my eyes and smiled.
“Thank you, Jake,” I said. “I’m yours. Anything you want. I’ll give you.”
“Jesus Jules,” he said between deep breaths. “You are so hot. It’s wrong and so messed up. But I love…”
He paused.
“… fucking you.”
He covered his eyes. Squeezed his temples. Grimaced and shook his head. Slowly, like the words were hard to get out.
“Julia, this can’t go on. I’m sorry. It can’t work.”
What was up with this post-fucking come down? Always the regrets and guilt as soon as his balls emptied into me. I mean, I felt it too. The guilt and shame ate at me too.
But we’d gone too far to turn back. To somehow pretend it didn’t happen. To pretend we didn’t have these feelings.
I was going to have up the stakes. Get Jake to commit and never turn back. Was Annika the problem? Was it our soon-to-be-step relationship? Was it me?
What the hell was the problem?
I’d just have to tackle them one at at time. Annika. I had an idea of how that one might be solved. Starting with that phone call this morning. My ass that was work related. Who was that Charles guy? I needed to find out. Jake needed to find out.
Just then, voices echoed through the halls.
Shit!
The hum of humanity approached our sacred spot.
Jake untied my arms and wrists. He rubbed the feeling back into them. He helped me get down and we both got dressed in a minute flat. Just as I slipped back into my boots, the first wave of tourists entered the Michelangelo Gallery. They approached us with curious looks.
We marched off in the opposite direction, toward a side stairs exit. Jake dropped a wet and decidedly used looking condom into the trash. Just before we disappeared into the stairwell, I looked back.
A security guard approached our sculpture. He wiped at the black mascara, tears, and spit I’d smeared all over Cupid and Psyche’s cheeks and lips. He ran a finger through something on her belly.
My cooling cum.
He wiped his fingers through it and smelled it. He looked at it. Smelled it again.
Oh no. He wasn’t, was he?
He put his finger in his mouth and tasted it. Tasted me. His eyes went wide and he spat. Right on Psyche’s leg. His eyes went wider still. He scrubbed at the statue’s blemished skin.
I hoped they came away clean. I hoped we could too.
We stepped away to make good our escape from the Louvre. Without a doubt, the most amazing museum in the world.
For any number of reasons.
The ride back to the hotel was torture. Jake wasn’t mad at me, which was an improvement. But a heavy, unwelcome melancholy hung between us. He was quiet and reserved. I considered trying to hold his hand. But I didn’t want to push it. Push him. Away.
Antonio got us back to the hotel in record time. Being a limo driver was definitely not his life calling. Jake and I ascended in the elevator. We stepped into our hotel room in dubious silence.
Hotel house was more like it. Hotel palace was more like it. This place was stupid big. At the end of the entry hall, he stopped and cupped his hand to my cheek. He took a big breath.
“Julia,” he said, “let’s take a break for a while. Dinner at seven?”
What did he mean by take a break? For a while? What did that mean exactly?
I wanted to join him in his room. In his bed. I wanted to snuggle him and let him feel my flat belly. The belly that I hoped would soon carry his child. My heart ached to be near him. Not metaphorically. My chest hurt, a pinching pain right around where my heart probably was.