Chapter 4

She fucked back against me. "Spank me," she implored. I obeyed. First lightly, then with increasing vigor. Spanking happened to be a particular favorite of mine, and Kat was up to the task. My pace increased, the thrusts becoming more forceful. I saw the sheen of sweat along the dimples of her lower back. She reached back and squeezed my balls. I felt the eager clenching of her pussy as she begged me not to stop. She knew I wouldn't.

Her moans turned to screams as she reached orgasm. I briefly worried about neighbors hearing us, but it was useless to stop. Kat's body tightened, she pushed and ground her pelvis back into me frantically, then released. Panting, she said, "Don't stop. You have to fill me up. Make me go on TV leaking your cum all morning."

She knew what she was doing. The totality of the situation made me light-headed. I pounded her for a few more minutes then warned her I was going to cum. It was so strong, my orgasm hit the point of pleasure overload that felt like pain. And then my balls released torrents of sperm, cascading inside her. As my thick, hot cum filled her insides, Kat moaned in delight. My cock finished twitching, and I slowly pulled out. Her ass cheeks were pink from my hands. Her pussy still sparkled with nectar. Then a trickle of cum appeared from inside her.

Kat rolled onto her back, and I joined her. We kissed and looked at each other. "That was... wow," I said. "I'm not usually at a loss for words."

"I'm just impressed you showed up in the middle of the night," she said. Her fingernails trailed over my balls, then she dipped a finger inside her pussy and brought it to her lips and tasted. "If you can keep this between us, it's just the tip of the iceberg."

"That's not going to be a problem. At all," I said. I glanced at my watch. It was 3:50 a.m. "I think your hair is in good shape."

She laughed. "Thanks for that," she said. "I should get ready. Watch the traffic on KBRK this morning." As she got up, she grabbed a thong from the dresser next to her bed and put it on.

"I think it's safe to say I'm going to be a loyal viewer," I said.

I got back to my apartment just after 4 a.m., and I was buzzing like I hadn't in a long time. There was an unexpected yet obvious quality to all of it. In two months, Kat Freely had gone from a fringe social media acquaintance at the periphery of my thoughts to... what? As I showered and tried to focus on the work day ahead, my thoughts kept wandering back to Kat. I worried that perhaps it was a one-time thing, and it surprised me how vehemently I recoiled at the idea. How many one-night stands have there been in the last ten years alone? Dozens. I shook it all off. I had work to focus on. I checked my watch, intent on going into the office early, and saw it was 4:57 a.m. I turned on the TV and tuned it to KBRK. I took my coffee and sat down on the couch, waiting for the first traffic report.

A couple live, local, late-breaking headlines later, on came Kat Feely. She beamed, looking cheerful and collected in a blue dress, her hands animated as she talked about the building rush hour. I felt my cock stir. I knew what was under that dress. I thought of my cum, pooled in the crotch of the black thong she had put on barely an hour ago. Had she really left it on? Was she really so naughty that she went to work wearing cum-filled panties? I loved the idea. I unzipped my dress slacks and fished out my cock. Just hearing her voice, even if it was innocuous traffic information, made me hard. So recently, she had been impaled on my dick, begging me to fill her. Was her ass still pink from the spanking, I wondered? It wasn't long before I shot another load. I zipped up and put my mind's focus back to work, and it hit me. Kat Feely had all the power. I didn't even have her phone number.

***

It didn't occur to me until later that, of course, there were messaging functions on Instagram and Facebook. Even then, I didn't have to wait very long. Kat wrote me a DM on Instagram the following Monday. We met for a drink the next day at a popular, trendy happy hour spot. She came with a couple girlfriends. I sat at the bar. She ordered drinks, conveniently standing next to me. The wait for drinks was long. Our chatting wasn't out of place. She sketched out some basic parameters she had been thinking about and asked me to think about them. She said she'd reach out to me again on Instagram with the number from a burner text message app we could use to chat when we wanted.

Her proposal was that we meet once or twice a week. For now, it would be the early mornings, mostly mid-week and always at her place, following the same protocol we had used the first time. We could chat via the text app. She hinted that we had a lot to talk about, and I was eager to do so. Kat's drinks came, and she was gone, back to chatting and laughing with her foodie girlfriends as if nothing were amiss. I finished my drink and left. As I walked out, I noticed her boyfriend had joined them. I smiled to myself. He looked like a goofy motherfucker for sure.

The wait for Kat's message wasn't long. It came while I slept the next morning, as she woke up and got ready for work. She was full of excitement, and it made me feel confident and good. She apologized in advance if she went silent. She said she would delete the app any time she would be with her boyfriend. She asked if I was free the next day for another quickie, then launched into a litany of details and fantasies she wanted to share. I read and reread the long missive. And I started got increasingly excited about the possible debauchery here.