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Close To Hand
by Robert Buckley © 2007

Veronica is licking my balls.

She holds my cock in one hand, lifting it straight toward the ceiling, keeping my scrotum taut as she takes one testicle entirely into her mouth and swirls it with her tongue. She lets it slip through her lips. Wet warmth flees, replaced by a wet coolness. She sucks in the other testicle, swirls it, lets it slip from her lips. Then the other, tugging it more aggressively, letting her teeth scrape it as she frees it again. She alternates, each of my balls drawn into her heavenly mouth in turn for I don't know how many times.

Then she stops, speaks. Her voice is an angry rasp. "I'll tell him I ate your balls."

Then she goes to work on my cock, licking it from the base, up the underside, and then closing her mouth over the tip, sucking hard, releasing it, then laving the shaft again with her tongue.

Her mouth is wondrous; her hand indescribably soft as it cuffs my hard-on. I can't believe what she's doing; I can't believe it's happening to me. I wish Veronica was my girlfriend; she isn't. She's only doing this because she's angry at Logan. I should have told her to leave, that I didn't want any part of this. I should be angry, indignant; to be used like this.

But I've been so damned desperate—for a touch, to be touched. And Veronica is so beautiful—impossibly beautiful, too impossibly beautiful for the likes of me to ever possess.

"God! I'm gonna come."

"Good!" She closes her mouth over the swollen helmet of my cock just as my fluids rocket from the tip. She won't release me, even though she's coughing now, gagging on my release.

I sink back into a state of wonderful lethargy. I could not move if the apartment burst into flames. Veronica is still holding my softening cock, but her look is far away; my cum is drooling from the corners of her mouth, and dripping off her chin.

"Yeah, I sucked cock too ... and swallowed every bit of it," she says.


She turns her eyes toward mine. They are fierce and she begins pumping my dick back into rigidity.

"Come on. Jesus, are you the faggot everyone says you are? Get hard, come on ... I want you to fuck me up the ass."

Jesus, my cock is reviving as her hands work it, lubricated by a slick sheen of semen.

Satisfied I'm hard enough again, Veronica sheds her skirt and panties. She kneels, pressing her breasts to the bed, and lifts her ass. It must be the most perfectly beautiful ass ever created. Her dark, chestnut hair sprays over her back as she wiggles her hips.

"Fuck! What are you waiting for?"

I take hold of her hips and place the tip of my cock against the gate of her ass.

"Veronica ... are you sure you want ...?"

"Don't talk! Don't fucking talk! Just fuck me ... fuck me or I'll get someone else to fuck me."

I press against the ring, then more firmly. I push inside her and she cries out as if in pain. I hesitate.

"C'mon-c'mon-c'mon ... fuck ... do it!"

I push harder now, feeling a bit of anger rise in me. Then I'm in her up to my balls and I start to thrust as she pushes back.

"Shit-fucker! Harder ... harder!"

I comply. I'm blind, unthinking, only aware of the sensations. My cock is clenched within the vice of her ass. Soon I erupt and slip out, trailing fluids that trickle from her gaping anus over her puffy pussy lips.

I am spent. I lie back on the bed, but Veronica is up, punching buttons on her cell phone.

"It's me ... no ... I just wanted you to know ... I sucked a cock ... yeah, that's right, I sucked cock, just now ... and I licked his balls and swallowed his cum, and he fucked me in the ass—in the ass! And it was better than anything you ... hello? God damn you, you don't fucking hang up on me ... I fucked ... I fucked ... bastard."

She's reduced to sobs now. She tosses the phone into her purse and her shoulders heave.

I sit up. "Veronica?" I reach to touch her.

But she jerks her shoulder away.  "Don't fucking touch me! You fucking prick, you fucking faggot cocksucker prick!"

In an instant she's dressed. The door slams. She's gone.

A wave of disgust comes over me. I should have told her to leave at the beginning. I should have ... but, what's the use? I used her just as wrongly as she used me. When would I ever have the opportunity to fuck a woman like Veronica? Target of opportunity—that's all.

But I feel like a shit. And the loneliness is worse than it's ever been.

I wish she had stayed. I only wanted to hold her.

This apartment is so empty.

© 2007 Robert Buckley. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Who is Robert Buckley? Read his bio on the Erotica Readers & Writers Association website.

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