Cruel. (Erotic Story Excerpt)

She suggests a series of love tests, but will his understanding have its limits?

Things were so much easier in the beginning, but then again, they usually are. Look down the road of every relationship that ever went south and you’ll find two people who were ecstatically happy with each other, and passionately in love, long before their detour.

I met him at a dance class. I know the instructor and it turns out it was a setup all along. They knew it, but I didn’t. She just said how much fun it would be for me to learn how to salsa dance. Darren had been in her class the week before without a partner. The minute Elizabeth saw him, she knew he’d be the perfect dance partner for me. So when I arrived at the class with no partner, and Darren was also partnerless, we immediately got together by default.

They say you can tell how good a man will be in bed by how he dances. In this case, if I’d judged Darren’s lovemaking abilities based on what I saw in class, I never would have gone out with him, much less slept with him. Mind you, I’m no twinkle toes myself, but to say Darren has two left feet would be an insult to everyone with that particular affliction. He simply could not get his feet to cooperate with him. But he was such a good sport about it, I found him endearing. Even though with just about every move he mashed on my toes, he was so cute and funny and charming that I couldn’t help but enjoy his company. Butterfly wings tickled my insides whenever he looked at me. It made no difference to me that he ruined a new pair of heels. I was just so happy to be around him, I knew I wanted to dance with him every day for the rest of my life.

Elizabeth was pleased with our chemistry. Every time she came over to see how we were doing — and to show us what we were doing wrong — she had a huge smile on her face. And when we walked to the coat room hand-in-hand that night, she was absolutely beaming.

“What did I tell you, Darren?”

“You were right! Elle really is the perfect dance partner.”

I looked back and forth at them smiling at each other and knew I’d been set up. And I was happy about it, despite my blind date phobia. Even though I’d stumbled into a first date I wasn’t aware of, I couldn’t have been happier with her choice.

Butterfly wings tickled my insides whenever he looked at me.

Elizabeth laughed. “See, Elle, I knew if I told you I wanted to set you up with somebody, you wouldn’t have come. But this way, I got to introduce you to a great guy and you learned how to dance. Well…kind of.”

We didn’t want the evening to end with salsa and sore feet, so we went to dinner when we left. The conversation flowed so smoothly, it was as if we’d known each other for years. Everything was so easy with him, and I could just be myself. He talked about his job as a biochemistry researcher at a local university. I talked about my artwork. We talked about past relationships, philosophy, and our ideas about love, life, and the whole world. We talked about everything and it was effortless. But once we started talking about family, I froze. I didn’t want to lie to him because I liked him so much, but how could I tell him? Everybody knew who they were. And the minute he realized it, I knew the dynamic between us would instantly change.

So by the time Darren asked, “What’s your last name by the way, Elle?” I immediately went to my recently formed identity — the one I conceived after my last boyfriend had taken my money and my friend, along with my heart.

“Anderson,” I said excitedly, knowing there would be no judgment when he heard it.

“Mine is Philips,” he said as he grabbed my hand and interlaced his fingers with mine.

After dinner, I brought him back to my place. It’s not a socially acceptable thing to do as an Anderton, but as an Anderson, I could do whatever I wanted. And what I wanted to do that night was Darren.

He was impressed by my artistic abilities. He admired all of my works in progress, and told me how talented and wonderful he thought I was. It had been a long time since I’d been complimented like that, and I ate it up like Halloween candy.

“If you liked what I can do with paint on a canvas, you’ll love what I can do with paint in the bedroom,” I said coyly, grabbing his hand and leading the way.

“Oh, really?” he asked with a look of horny anticipation plastered across his face.

“Really,” I said, pushing his back down onto the bed. I pulled a jar of edible strawberry paint and a brush out of my dresser, showing off what I had in store for him. I dropped down on my knees in front of him, caressing Darren’s legs up and down while resting my head on his crotch. He started breathing heavily and stroking my hair. I felt his cock start to rise up against my cheek.

“You certainly work fast, Elle,” he sighed as I started undoing his zipper with my teeth.

“Is there any other way to work?” I laughed. I unfastened his button and slowly worked on pulling his pants down until they were resting on top of his shoes. “But, if you’re not enjoying this — ”

“I didn’t say that,” he moaned, encouraging me to start sucking his cock.

Darren gazed at me with excitement as he watched me take off each of his shoes and neatly store them underneath the bed. I worked on each of his pant legs, and then his underwear, until they were in a heap on the floor next to me. I opened the paint jar and dipped the brush inside, about to begin my masterpiece of lust.

“What is that anyway?” Darren asked, impatiently waiting for me to do something, anything, that involved his cock.

“I’m going to create a work of art,” I laughed. I slowly dipped the brush into the jar again, thinking about how much I wanted his cock inside my pussy. I got more and more excited and wet by the second.

I took the wet brush out of the jar and grabbed Darren’s huge dick in my hand. I started slowly stroking him, watching the pleasure on his face and teasing him about what I would do next. I traced circles around Darren’s cock until it looked like a huge sexual candy cane waiting for me to take it deep in my mouth and suck it.

I opened the paint jar and dipped the brush inside, about to begin my masterpiece of lust.

Darren caressed my shoulders, admiring me as I painted his thick, hard flesh. “Oh, so this is the bedroom artwork you do,” he laughed. “It looks like it should be erected in front of a barber shop or something.”

As he continued watching me curiously, I continued painting his hard on until I got to the tip. Then I carefully rested the paint brush inside the jar and put them on the nightstand. He moaned impatiently for me to suck him off until every last drop of come had squirted into my throat. I slowly took the tip of his cock into my mouth, licking off the strawberry paint and watching his growing satisfaction.

“Oh, Elle,” Darren sighed as he watched me taking more and more of his sweet candy stick into my mouth. “Oh, that feels so good, baby.”

His feedback made me horny and encouraged me to work even harder on his cock. I took every inch of him into my throat, savoring the taste of strawberry paint until he entirely filled up my mouth. I squeezed my cheeks as hard as I could, making him moan even more. Then I started moving my mouth up and down his shaft as he tightly gripped the top of my shoulders. I rested my hands on his chest, inching up toward his nipples so I could pinch them until they got as hard as his cock.

“Oh, baby,” he said as he watched me bobbing up and down his cock faster and faster. He clenched his hands tightly against my shoulders, and I continued pinching on his hard nipples trying to make him come inside my mouth. I took my hands off his nipples and deeply stuck one of my fingers in his asshole. I prodded his ass with my finger in and out, until Darren couldn’t stand it anymore and shot a wad of come into my cheeks. His hot fluid mixed with the strawberry paint and I sucked him until I had consumed every last drop of him. When I was satisfied he was done, I got up from my knees and started to pull my dress over my head. Darren admired my body as I gave him a slow, deliberate striptease — throwing my dress on the floor, then my stockings, then my bra, then my underwear. I moved down next to him and spread my legs, hoping he would instinctively know what I needed him to do.

“You’re so beautiful, Elle,” Darren said, slowly climbing on top of me and kissing my neck. His cock rested between my legs and my pussy began to tingle being so close to him. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted his mouth…all over me. I wanted him to suck on my wet bud and fuck my cunt senseless with his tongue. I wanted him to taste my flavored paint mixed with my pussy juices, and lap me up until there was nothing left.

“Do you know what I want?” I whispered in his ear.

He rested his hand on my cheek and kissed me tenderly. It was lovely. But still, it wasn’t what I wanted.

“Nice try,” I giggled when he was done.

“How about this?” asked Darren right before burying his face against my neck, nibbling on my hot skin. His hands traveled down to my willing tits and he cupped them enthusiastically, squeezing them and handling my nipples with his thumb. “Is that better?”

“Not quite,” I said. I pointed toward the edible paint on the nightstand that waited for him to create a masterpiece on my body.

Darren lifted the jar of paint and stared at it as if it was an alien. “I don’t know about this; I’m not sure I have the artistic chops that you do.”

I wanted his mouth…all over me.

I spread my legs wide, encouraging him to go for it — to paint me, lick me, make me come all over his gorgeous face.

Darren dipped the brush in the paint, dripping some on my sheets, and then opened my pussy lips wide. I got so wet with anticipation, thinking of him putting his mouth all over me. My thighs were on fire and felt like they were about to explode. He admired the look of my pussy for a minute before firmly placing the paint brush on top of my burning clit. The cool paint against my hot sex made me want to jump out of my skin. I couldn’t wait to feel his mouth against my willing pussy, sucking strawberry off me until I exploded against his hungry lips. He painted circles around my pussy, each time taking a second to admire his work before dipping the brush into the jar again. He flashed a crooked smile and wrinkled his nose.

“I’m not sure that I did as good a job as you did on me,” he said as if I was about to grade his paper. “But then again, I’d like to think I have a lot more raw material to work with down there.”

We both burst out laughing.

“I’ll tell you what: Why don’t you just shut up and fuck me with your tongue, then we’ll call it even.”

Darren had a huge grin on his face and our eyes locked for a second. Then, he buried his face between my legs and started furiously licking the paint off my pussy like a man possessed. I arched my back to get a good look at him working on me, enjoying every second of his wet tongue against my clit. His face was an absolute mess — a combination of paint and pussy juices drenched his stubble. I thought it was about the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. I closed my eyes and laid flat on my back again, resting my hand on top of his head as he worked my pussy like a student sucking up for extra credit. And as far as I was concerned, his performance had been an A++. His attention to detail — licking every inch of my folds, once, twice, three times for good measure to make sure he didn’t miss a spot — was also making the grade. I writhed my hips up against his mouth, and he picked up the pace of his tongue lashing. The faster I moved, the faster he licked. And the faster he licked me, the faster my hips thrust up against his face. We kept up this game of one-upmanship until I exploded with come all over him. He lapped me up one last time, then came up for air.

I spread my legs wide, encouraging him to go for it….

I smiled with satisfaction as my body jerked on the bed. Darren came up and nestled his body against mine. He kissed me tenderly, his tongue sharing all of the slick, slippery goodness that he’d lapped up from between my legs.

“I know I’m not an artist like you are, but how did I do?” he whispered in my ear.

I threw my arms around his neck. “You get an A for effort — at the very least. Although I may need a repeat performance to know for sure.”

There would be many repeat performances that night and in the weeks to come. I loved everything about us during that time. I know, I know — what’s not to love about the honeymoon period of a relationship? It’s the time we’re supposed to be perfect in each other’s eyes, the time when being around each other is as important as the air we breathe and the food we eat. But still, whenever I thought about it, all I could do was lament what was to come. I knew we’d have our problems one day, I knew things wouldn’t always be so perfect, but I desperately wanted to go back to that magical place and be those magical people again.

Want to find out what happened next? Check out Cruel. for the rest of the story.

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