After returning from Lilly’s home, I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. It was weird. To have gone into her house in the night, fucked her, and just left her lying there with my cum dripping out of her slit. Didn’t even say goodbye.

Of course that was part of the deal. I didn’t know if the normal pleasantries would count as ‘casual conversation,’ something strictly forbidden by article two of Lilly’s contract. Fuck, this was strange. Part of me still felt like it was a trap. What sort of trap, I don’t know. I just expected to hear sirens that whole night.

I undid my pants and slipped them off. Rubbing my hand around my cock, I lifted it up to my nose and sniffed. Fuck, her sex was potent. Reminded me of a stout beer, but sweeter. Something tickled my nose. I looked at the tip of my finger and found one of her black curly hairs.

Something about that triggered an immediate need for more. I started frantically jerking off, her stickiness warming with spit and friction and becoming the best fucking lubricant. I realized after getting good and into my wank that there was no reason I couldn’t just walk back over to her house and fuck her again. Shit, it would be just that easy. I came all over myself at the thought of that.

I wiped the mess off my belly and thought about heading back over. Was it too easy? Could I get bored of something that’s so readily accessible? I decided right then and there that I couldn’t get greedy with it. I would spread out my trips. Only go when I was in desperate need. After all, I had just screwed Lilly. She may be overwhelmed. Maybe wait a few days before I head back.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

About an hour later I was quietly sliding the key into her door. Another round of jerking off hadn’t settled me, and I realized nothing except Lilly would. I would start spacing out my trips later… sure I would. The darkness on the horizon had started to lighten. Daylight wasn’t too far off, and I had to get to work early. I hadn’t slept, but I could go without today.

I moved slowly and quietly as I had before. Perhaps with less caution. As I cracked the door open, I was pondering what position I wanted her in this time. I was surprised to find her up and about. I shut the door behind me and watched Lilly.

She was still naked, draped over an armchair with her legs spread wide. Her dark eyes watched me dispassionately. She was holding one of her stories in one hand. ‘Would you Like Ketchup With That’, one of the homemade books printed off a website. The other hand held the end of a dildo that was buried deep in her cunt. I supposed I hadn’t made it a priority to satisfy her earlier, and she was now taking that into her own hands.

Neither of us said anything. Her hairy pussy was matted with my dried jizz from earlier. The curly mane on her head was messy and frazzled. Obviously she didn’t feel as though me fucking her earlier had warranted a shower. And the damnedest thing happened. Her hand holding the purple dildo gripped it tight, and slowly she resumed while casting her gaze back to her book.

I watched those striking eyes move, moving side to side as she enjoyed her story. And fuck, was she enjoying it. That moan from before, it was carnal and done for no one but herself. Like everything she did. I moved next to her, watching her large breasts heave with heavy breathes. I licked my lips as the purple rubber disappeared into the darkness of her wild cunt.

Lilly seemed to have no shame about what I had done to her. Nor did she seem upset as I watched her masturbate. Primally in touch with her needs and conforming to no social norms, I realized that she was treating me with the same cold objectification that she desired. We were both things that were using one another. I liked that.

And as I watched her, thinking of all the ways I wanted to fuck her, I unzipped my pants and kicked them off.

I knelt in front of her, idly running my fingers up and down my shaft, and tried to look her in the eyes. She wouldn’t have it, simply moving the book to block my view of her face. I reached between her legs and put my hand over hers as she worked the dildo. I tried not to get in the way. Just letting her fuck herself while I felt the wet, squelching sensation travel up her arm. Shit, I didn’t want to stop her at all. She was good at this.

I found myself more entranced with the show than fucking her. Her groaning orgasm built louder and deeper. I reached past her hand and added two fingers into her cunt, the phallus sliding along the back of my knuckles as she pumped it into herself. Her juices coated my fingers; she was so wet it ran down my hand. I removed my fingers and started out with a taste, one fingertip in my mouth. God, it was robust. I realized I was also tasting my own cum mixed in. I had filled her up not even two hours ago.

I discovered a new benefit to this arrangement I had not considered. If I didn’t engage with her, she would keep on with her day as if I wasn’t there. In a way I was like a ghost if I wasn’t fucking her. I lowered my face to her thighs and inhaled. It was a euphoric. I ran my fingers down her legs, her coarse, unshaven hairs brushing the tips of my fingers.

It was sloppy, and it was all mine.

But I didn’t want to fuck her anymore, not right now anyway. I wanted to watch her go. So I rose to my feet and rubbed slickened fingers over my shaft. Within inches of her face as I started to stroke myself. “Keep going, you savage little beast. Keep fucking yourself,” I commanded her through clenched teeth. A gesture that seemed to be only for my benefit as she carried on with no sign of urgency.

I took the book from her hands and set it on the table beside her. She let out a disappointed huff, and we both continued with our mutual self-pleasure. Her mouth went wide open and gaped like a goldfish that fell out of its tank. She made a low, constant hum to accompany the groans that were sounding more and more like a growl.

“You dirty bitch. Just keep fucking yourself! I want to see you… I want… fuck!” I lost control long before she did. My cock spasming and shooting a load onto Lilly. She stopped, ever so briefly, like her mind needed a moment to consider the fact that I was tugging my cock and milking every drop of semen I could onto her soft body. She waited till my last drop fell on her thigh. Then she picked the book back up, found her page, and resumed reading. And she resumed fucking herself too.

I had made a mess of her. I watched a glob of cum cling to her eyebrow. The rocking motion as she played with herself coaxed it to drip down onto her cheek. Her tits glistened. I couldn’t help myself; I reached down and rubbed those large breasts, working my cum over them. And she just carried on as if I wasn’t doing anything.

The alarm on my phone went off. Shit, I had work soon. “Goddamnit,” I muttered. I had come embarrassingly fast compared to her. She was still building up and hadn’t climaxed at all. I bent over and picked up my pants, taking my jingling phone from the pocket to silence it. I realized I had wiped my cum all over my phone. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I… I wanted to see her finish.

But I had to get myself ready. And if I was late, then Betty would wonder why. I didn’t want to tell her about Lilly. I didn’t want anyone to know. I suddenly felt very possessive of her. Mine. She was mine.

So I left her, playing with her toy in a chair. Lingering as long as I could to watch the messy slut getting herself off. I closed the door. Locking my treasure inside.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

“What the hell is up with you today?” Betty threw a rag at the back of my head as we finished our afternoon cleanup. She blew a raspberry at me, her red tongue poking out from between her black lipstick.

I blinked a couple of times. I had zoned out again. “Sorry, just tired. I was up too late.” Really hadn’t slept at all since yesterday. And now, despite any good judgment, I was trying to decide if I was going to go straight home and fuck Lilly after my shift.

Betty had been covering for my fuck-ups all day. I’d been messing up orders, dropping shit, and all-around dragging ass on the cleaning. But apparently that wasn’t the really egregious offense. “Why haven’t you been ogling my tits. What’s wrong with you?”

I blinked and had a good look at her chest. Those little bar piercings were pressed up against the fabric like I liked. “I am so very sorry. I’ve been quite the inconsiderate co-worker. I understand if you want to file a report with HR.”

“Already done, pal! I just sent out the email. James has been derelict of his duties and frankly offending Thelma and Louise here.” She pointed her thumbs toward her boobs. Then she gave me a sly smile. “So who were you doing all night? The drought is finally over, yes?”

Fuck, how did she know? “No, I just got into a video game,” I lied.

“Oh, which game?” She smirked knowingly. Christ, how did she figure this out?

“Some weird crafting game. You know, climbing the tech trees and making fancier shit as you go. Are you interested?” I knew she wasn’t. I was hoping to get her to drop it.

“Hmm, is that all?” She tilted her head and clicked her tongue piercing against her lip stud. “Because I think you’re a fucking liar.”

I could feel myself turning red. “What are you getting on about? I wish. I would tell you if I got laid. Who am I even going to fuck on a Tuesday? Have you seen the people at the bar on a Tuesday night?” Shit, shit, shit.

“I agree with that. I don’t think you went to a bar. So where did you meet her?” She was wickedly sharp. "Online hookup? That's certainly your style. How long have you been talking to her?"

“There is no her!”

“You know, just the other week I was telling you about how I fucked Dirk’s sister while she was in town. And then I went to visit him at the pawnshop and had him take me into the back so I could screw him and his coworker while I still stank of her. Remember that?”

I nodded. “Betty, I do. In fact, I think that’s the last thing I’ll be thinking about before I shed this mortal coil is your very, very vivid telling of that sordid tale.”

She grinned. “So what I’m saying is I share all my stories with you. And even though they are kind of depressingly mundane and spaced very far apart, I enjoyed hearing yours.” Her green eyes widened, and she clicked a few more times. “So why is this different?”

“I’m telling you, I didn’t get laid.” I tried to laugh it off and continued trying to scrub the dried cream off the counter. “You’re nuts.”

Click. Click. Click. She just stared me down.

“I didn’t fuck anyone!” Shit, just digging myself a hole.

“Alright. But let me just tell you why you’re a liar.”

“I am not a liar!”

Her voice suddenly dropped to a lower tone. Smoky and sultry. “For the first time in months, you haven’t come in here looking like a kicked dog. Your back is straight. You stopped whining. And you haven’t even looked at my tits before running off to the bathroom to masturbate.”

I held my breath. Fuck.

“Yeah, I know you do that. Do a better job of cleaning the sinks, filthy boy. But I understand. I really do. Look at me, I'm very fucking sexy. Yet today, barely even a glance? You are thinking of someone else.” She walked over to me; I froze like a deer in headlights. “And when you came in this morning, you absolutely reeked of cunt.”

“Ha! What? Fuck, I wish. I was just… just playing video games. I swear it.”

A sinister grin spread over her black lips. “Oh, I’ll figure it out. I don’t think you’re ashamed. I’ve seen that from you before. This is different, and it’s driving me up the wall. I bet if I got on my knees and sucked you off, you’ll spill your… guts.”

I stared at those lips. She took notice and reached into her pocket. Pulling out a black tube, she applied a fresh coat of shiny, tacky lipstick. I swallowed hard as she flitted her pierced tongue at me.

“But I’m not going to.” Betty laughed. “Too easy. Like reading the end of a mystery novel. In fact, I like that you're holding out on me, James. It's the most interesting thing you've done in months.”

And just to make some sort of point, she grabbed a banana from the cooler display by the register and looked me dead in the eyes as she slid it down her throat before taking it back out without so much as a slight gag.

She walked over and handed it to me. "Eat up, it's on me. You look hungry."

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

I had started doing the math and very sensibly decided I needed to sleep. Also, I almost drifted off at the wheel, so I decided to go straight home. But on my door, there was an envelope, like the one that Lilly had given me with her contract. My stomach sank, worried that I had done something wrong, and it was over.

I ran inside and opened it up.

‘I, Lilly Redwood, submit to the following conditions of Free Use:’

So far, it seemed exactly the same. I scanned down past the seven articles she established. There was finally something new.

‘Amendment 1: Any guests in my home must take off their shoes at the entrance.’

Huh. I looked down at my feet and rolled my shoe over. Muddy. I couldn’t help but crack up. Waking her up and fucking her in the bed is just fine. Cumming all over her while she masturbated. Not an issue. But tracking in dirt, she’ll draw a line there.

Lilly Redwood, you are fascinating.

But the letter came with a lot of crucial new information. The first was that she could change the contract. I suppose that’s crucial. It was just the shoes for now, but what if I stumbled across a sex act she didn’t like? Anything I do to her may be the last time I’m allowed to do it. That’s fine. I wanted to take it fairly slow anyway. I wanted to test Lilly’s limits, but perhaps at a reasonable rate.

The other thing to consider was the wording. It didn’t say, ‘Take your shoes off.’ No, it said, ‘Any guests’. This could have two distinct meanings. Either she was giving out more contracts or I was allowed to bring people with me.

I went to my bedroom and carefully stored the amended contract with the original in my bedside drawer. Exhausted and my head spinning with possibilities, I fell into a deep sleep.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

I woke up hungry, starving actually. I had been so busy fucking and sleeping I realized I barely ate save for a shameful banana. Just doing a bang-up job of self-care. I had taken pictures of the contract so I could look at it without messing it up. Probably should get that laminated. Should I buy a small laminator? Because I don’t want to go to FedEx and be like, “Please laminate my sex contract.” Fuck. This whole thing still felt strange.

So as I was stuffing my face with a second bowl of instant ramen, I inspected the rules. I wanted more information on her, and I wanted to make sure I was in compliance to do what I wanted.

Above all, I was not to try and interact with her outside of sex. But one of the rules really caught my eye this time.

‘Article 4: You are not to use any of my possessions unless it is in service of the conditions of Article 5.’

Article 5, of course, said I could screw her to my heart’s content. So I could use anything in her house so long as it’s a sexual act with her. It was three in the morning, only two hours before I had to leave for work. So I could use this time to get more information.

I walked over to her house and let myself in. Quietly, it was still early. And of course I slipped off my shoes. Rules are rules. And after that, I started exploring. After all, there is nothing against simply being there and invasively going through all her possessions. I just wasn’t allowed to use them, save for fucking her.

I started with the basement. The house was old, and the basement was more of a storage cellar. Low ceilings—if I were a bit taller, I could have hit my head. A hanging light bulb with a pull cord was the only form of dim lighting available. There was a rack attached to the wall that was mostly empty. A few yellowed jars of pickled vegetables that probably came with the house were on the high shelves.

Everything was dusty and dirty. Including the decrepit pieces of furniture that were rotting down here. A musty, stained couch, a few chairs stacked in the corner, and a collection of unlabeled boxes that contained a varied bullshit. Some contained junk, the others trash. Old shit, picture books of an Asian family. I don’t think she ever came down here. None of it belonged to her. Still, the room itself had potential.

I went upstairs and looked through Lilly’s kitchen. She wasn’t much for variety. Twelve boxes of the same wheat biscuit cereal, with the one on the end opened. Powdered milk? Do people actually use this? A bunch of the tea that she had served me. Labeled simply ‘Black Tea,’ and no sweeteners to be seen. Her freezer was stuffed full of two kinds of microwavable meals. Chicken pot pies and Salisbury steak.

Fridge had a little more variety. Nutritional drinks of a variety of flavors and stacks of pudding cups. Butterscotch, chocolate, and banana. So not much of a cooker. Her cupboards indicated the same. Just a kettle and one pot. Barely any dishes. A good, sturdy table, though. I could bend her over that. Also a clothes washer and dryer in the corner next to the back door. Another piece of equipment I could use.

I went into the bathroom next. Generic unscented soaps and shampoos. It turned out she did own a razor, though it seemed like it wasn’t used often. Completely dry and put up on a high shelf in the medicine cabinet. Some medicine and first aid stuff, very basic.

An alarm went off from inside the house. I looked at my phone. 4:30. She gets up early. I heard her stirring and considered slipping out. I decided against it, though. I decided she should see what I was doing, testing if I was within the bounds of her rules.

Lilly stumbled into the bathroom, rubbing her eyes. She stopped, realizing I was already there. She hesitated for a moment. I thought I had frightened her, but instead I followed her gaze. She was simply making sure my shoes were off. She stepped around me and walked beside the toilet. Reaching into the shower, she turned it on and started heating up the water. After that, she unceremoniously removed her sweater and boy shorts.

I had almost wondered if she was trying to seduce me, inviting me to take advantage. Until she lifted the toilet lid and sat down to take a piss. I watched her, engrossed with her lack of interest in me or shame. She didn’t bother wiping up, just did a weird squatting bounce and walked straight into the shower. Fair enough, I guess.

I had to leave soon anyway. Part of me wanted to join her, fuck her right in the shower. I thought about it; I really did. But my time was short, and now I knew her routine. Judging by what I’ve seen, she was a slave to it. If I ever wanted her in the shower, I knew when to show up. Or I could simply drag her here when I wanted.

With the little time I had left, I went to her bedroom, leaving her to wash up. There was a large walk-in closet. I decided on a quick exploration of that. I assumed it was full of blankets and clothes. I had only seen her wearing sweats. Probably didn’t even own a dress.

I opened it up. “Fuck,” I whispered as my eyes darted from treasure to treasure.

‘Article 4: You are not to use any of my possessions unless it is in service of the conditions of Article 5.’

I was grinning like an idiot as I tore myself away. Had to get to work. Had to hide this from Betty. This was all mine. Lilly was mine. My secret little whore.

I had been going too easy on Miss Redwood. Obviously, the contents of the closet were meant to be utilized. I slipped on my shoes, locked Lilly in her domestic cage, and began to consider what I had learned. I should start taking notes when I get home.