Pleasing Mr Sloan [18+]

CHAPTER 3 - ALL SHE COULD THINK ABOUT

CHAPTER 3 - ALL SHE COULD THINK ABOUT

Candice regretted her decision in the morning and wrinkled her nose as she inhaled deeply with her morning stretch. Unfamiliar aches devoured her body, and she moaned lightly as she stretched again. Anticipating the pain, she steeled herself and attempted to stand. She fell back down but at least landed back on the bed. Groaning as fresh spasms took hold, she was grateful that she had no plans for today. Other than doing some extra credit in philosophy.

Another inhale, and she decided that she definitely needed a wash. It couldn't wait and she somehow made it across and into the bathroom. She peeled the dress that had stuck to her skin away and it kept its shape as she dropped it on the floor. Making a face, she added, washing to her plans. She was just about to enter the shower when something in the mirror caught her eye. Two enormous and angry hickeys lay possessively on her breasts and she winced as she prodded them. It was a silly thing to do, as they were as tender as they looked. Candice's cheeks flushed, as she couldn't recall when he had done it. It had felt like she had been in the clouds for hours. She had been putty in his hands and she doubted there wasn't anything she wouldn't do with those hands on her. Spinning in a slow circle, her eyes landed on her right ass cheek which was reddened compared to the left. She certainly remembered that. She'd hated how turned on she was and how she had hoped that he would have changed his mind and fucked her again rather than waiting until Monday.

Closing her eyes she tried to push him out of her head but it didn't work. She thought of him in the shower. What would shower sex be like? When she was getting dressed. Wondering what he would think of her outfit choice. It was short and tight and she didn't wear a bra. She'd always thought of the all-in-one as a comfort item, but she saw it in a new light now. For a second, she thought about sending him a picture. She dismissed that idea quickly and moved away from the mirror. Thoughts of him persisted when she struggled to get down the stairs. Would he always leave her bow-legged? Would he even fuck her again? She frowned as the sudden doubt and associated disappointment filled her. When she forced breakfast down her sore throat. What would he do to improve her technique? Would it always hurt so much? When she washed her clothes. When she read and re-read and then gave up on her critical appraisal of the philosophy paper. When she ran out of things to do and started to type his name into Google before she thought better of it. When she breathed. When she moved. Everything reminded her of him and what they had done. She was going crazy. She wouldn't see him until Monday evening and her shoulders slumped at the thought of having to wait. She was like a cat in heat and she knew only he could solve the burn she felt.

Her mum stumbled downstairs at three but didn't even acknowledge her presence. Candice didn't make an effort either as she's learnt nothing good would come from it. Her mum had drunk ever since her dad had left. At some point though grief was no longer an excuse. It was now going on nine years and she'd pretty much raised herself. She watched with a mixture of disgust and sadness at the state her mum was in. She was bent over, her skin sallow. She looked like she was wearing the same dress she'd worn the night before and her hair was a birds nest on the top of her head.

Candice used to be confused. Used to be angry. But she'd accepted her life. Or at least tolerated it. She knew that no one would save her. She had prayed many a night when she was little that her dad would come but he never did. Never even bothered with a birthday or Christmas card. Her mum scuttled back to her room clutching a six-pack of cider, stumbling into the doorframe on her way out. It was the shittest, cheapest drink but her mum would finish them in an hour.

Closing the left-open fridge she decided a workout might distract her. She changed into leggings and a sports top - needing the support - and walked to the only gym in town. By the time she got there, she was out of breath and in significant pain. She settled her breath, before pushing the door open, noting how even that stressed her muscles. She smiled at the receptionist and pushed through the gates with a swipe of her pass. Legs exhausted from the walk she headed for the machines that worked the chest and arms. Her ass and core smarted as she took a seat and she took a breath as she settled further trying to find a comfy position. Sliding the weights to the appropriate level she grabbed the grips and pushed the bar across her chest so her hands nearly touched and then away and then together again. She worked her way up the weights with each set of reps and stopped once she couldn't move the bars an inch. Rolling her shoulders gently she moved on to a different machine and again until she ached all over. She flopped onto a mat and twisted her body back and forth, trying to ease and stretch out her muscles. Feet approached and she was about to tell whoever it was to go away when he spoke.

"Candice," Mr Sloan said quietly and she snapped her eyes open. He proferred his hand and she gratefully allowed him to pull her up.

"That was quite the workout, Candice," Mr Sloan stated and she glanced around at the otherwise deserted gym. His eyes were heated and she realised she was still holding his hand. She tried to release it but he kept hold of her and rubbed her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. Her breath caught and her body was aflame with desire.

"Can I give you a ride, Candice?" Mr Sloan asked and her throat dried up. Here? Now? It was a public place!

He jangled his keys and she flushed at her jump. It wasn't far off though and she was riding his cock not even five minutes later. Her breasts were slapping widely and her thighs burning as she met his thrusts more ardently this time round. He dropped his seat back and watched as she ground herself in a circle and then lifted herself up and down. She was a quick learner and only too eager to improve. He vowed to teach her everything he knew. Eyeing his work on her breasts, he smirked remembering how they had been visible in her sports bra. He wondered if she had realised or if they had slipped from the initial position. He didn't think she would be so brazen but as she worked him, he realised that she was far from the virgin he had first fucked. A perfect cum slut in the making. Pride and possessive desire had him thrusting his hips up all the harder and she screamed as he dived deeper. Her hands landed on his chest and her breasts swung heavily as her breaths became shorter and shorter. Grasping her hips he held her against him as he spurted deep inside her. The sensation sent her over too and she slumped down onto him.

"Candice, Candice, Candice," he muttered and trailed a hand down her spine. If he'd known she would be this willing he would have fucked her that very first night. He was pissed at himself and he only wallowed further as he thought about how he'd really grown to hate his wife. They'd only fucked once in the last three years but she wouldn't hear about divorce.

She looked up at him with great effort but it was with cold eyes that she met. She stiffened and anticipated his next words.

"Get off me and get dressed," he muttered and he slipped out of her with a loud squelch as she scrambled back to her seat.

The car was already in motion and she hastily secured her sports bra in place just as she passed a house. She glanced sideways at Mr Sloan and wondered what had changed. What had she done?

The leggings were more tricky, skin tight and sticky were not a great match. She'd just pulled them over her ass when they arrived by her front door. Glancing again at his right jawline she decided against trying to find out what she had done.

"See you Monday, Mr Sloan," she said last minute, unsure if he would change his mind.

He nodded curtly and she bit her before she apologised for something she didn't know she'd done.