Voyeur Ch. 04

"Do you want something else inside you?" he muttered, his hand moving from her breasts to seize her hip.

"Oh!" Rachel's eyes flared as Ben slightly lifted her to lower on his cock.

"Oh, fuck. That's good. Work it, baby," he slurred, his broad chest expanding with new excitement as his cock squeezed inside her. Watching his thick shaft wetly disappear between her spread legs was so fucking sexy.

"Uh," Rachel's eyes closed, her brow furrowed with the intensity of being thickly penetrated after such a build-up. Ben's deep voice seemed to echo about her ears.

"Don't come without telling me. Hey!" he demanded, flicking her chin to get her attention. Unable to resist, he traced her soft mouth with his finger and shuddered when it obediently opened to suck.

Rubbing his finger with her tongue, Rachel nodded. Ben's expression seemed rather brooding, his eyes intently on her face.

"Tell me," he ordered, moving his hand to her pussy. Gently parting her lips, he watched his cock wetly work in and out of her pink flesh. Her swollen, little nub exposed for his fingers. "Tell me when."

"Oh!" Rachel gasped as one of his hands held her spread, the other left her mouth and began to trace wet circles around her clit. Meanwhile, she was being exquisitely stretched as she repeatedly moved up and down, fucking herself to orgasm.

"Don't you dare not tell me," he said suspiciously, hypnotised by her thrusting hips, his cock working in and out as his fingers worked harder on her.

Rachel forgot her shyness in a blinding excitement. Everything felt so good, she didn't care that someone was witnessing it.

"Oh, Ben, I'm gonna come," she moaned, trembling with her movements. "I'm...I'm...!"

"Good girl. Fuck me!" Ben grunted, mercilessly strumming her clit.

"Oh, God. Oh, fuck! Oh, God, Ben!" Rachel squealed, her face pained by the force of it.

"Tell me!" he growled, feeling his balls ache as his cock stiffened inside her.

"I'm coming!" Rachel panted, her eyes shut as she continued to thrust a quick, rhythmic motion. She strained forward against his hand, increasing the pressure of his thumb on her clit. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

"Yes, with me...!" Ben groaned, jerking beneath her as he experienced another powerful release.

Still impaled, Rachel whimpered with exhaustion and slumped forward. Ben's hand tangled through her hair as he held her close.

"Where are we? What...what day is it?" he joked, grinning weakly.

Disengaging herself to curl against his side, Rachel tiredly giggled into his neck as he kissed the top of her head. They soon fell asleep, comfortably entwined together.

*******

"Oh, wow," Brian grinned, edging back onto the bed as his girlfriend emerged from the bathroom.

Perhaps being surrounded by young bimbos turned him off them, but Brian preferred women closer to his own age. The connection felt more grounded, and he had been seeing one particular woman, Courtney, for almost eight months.

In her late 40s, Courtney was in excellent shape, like him. With a successful career in real estate, it had become a habit for them to discreetly fuck in homes for sale.

Courtney batted her lashes and pouted. "Are you sure you don't want to go to lunch?"

Brian vigorously nodded.

Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed one glossy, pink stiletto over the other. "Fuck, these are so steep, I could only wear them in bed."

"Suits me, just fine!" Brian grinned, his arms reached forward, hands lustfully squeezing at the air. "Come to daddy!"

They paused as Brian's phone bleeped. He looked slightly irritated as he checked the screen. "Nope."

"The kid?" Courtney asked, gingerly walking to the bed.

It was their name for Marcus, because Brian was often called upon to act as a parent, and Marcus never behaved like an adult.

Brian's face darkened and he tossed his phone aside.

"Relax." Courtney smoothed her hands on his shoulders and began to massage him, pressing her breast against his arm. "Let Coco make it better."

"Yeah," Brian's surly expression brightened as his tension began to unravel.

When his phone beeped again, he ignored it, and rolled on top of Courtney. He kissed her neck, his fingers traced up her sides to cup her breasts. "Oh, I can't wait to..."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

They both froze.

"Oh god, you don't have an appointment?" he exclaimed, backing off as Courtney scrambled up in a panic.

"N-No..." she answered worriedly. "Not for weeks. And...isn't it Thursday?"

"Yeah..." Brian looked nervous. Then he angrily stiffened as Marcus hollered through the door.

"Briaaaan!"

"Fuck." Brian looked desperate, and Courtney shook her head.

"Why the fuck would you tell him you're here?" she hissed angrily, kicking off the heels and grabbing her clothes.

"I didn't!" Brian whispered back. "Just don't make any noise. He'll go away, eventually."

"But the fucking neighbours-!"

"I know you're in there, you bastard!" Marcus shouted. "I have GPS tracking on your phone!"

"That little shit!" Brian gasped.

"I think you should leave," Courtney said coldly.

"Come on, Coco-"

"Well, I'm leaving. I'll send you the bill for whatever damage your pseudo son leaves behind."

Brian was so humiliated, he turned as red as Rachel. "He won't... I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you!"

Courtney didn't answer. After glaring at his contrite features with scathing disbelief, she viciously grabbed her bags and stalked out.

Hearing Courtney snap at Marcus on her way out, Brian cursed, managing to button his shirt just in time as Marcus stomped into the room. Brian opened his mouth to berate Marcus, but words failed him.

Marcus looked like he'd lost an epic food fight. His hair was unflatteringly slicked back, with oily patches that looked nothing like the expensive product normally styling his hair. His designer outfit was stained in all kinds of multi-coloured sludge.

There was a very unpleasant odour emitting from him. His eyes burned green fire as he glared at Brian's stunned silence, shaking so badly with anger that it took him a long moment to speak.

"That guy..." Marcus finally managed, his chest heaving with indignant fury. "That guy dumped me into a bin!"

"Who?" Brian coldly questioned, narrowing his eyes at a discoloured nacho chip adhered to Marcus' pantleg. "What happened?"

"RACHEL'S MOTHERFUCKING BOYFRIEND DID THIS!" Marcus screamed, kicking a side table.

Brian had seen Marcus in all kinds of states. Though this episode was particularly unpleasant, he was quite unmoved. He might have even found it funny, if Marcus wasn't ruining his personal life.

"Watch the fucking furniture!" Brian snapped, still wondering how he might adequately redeem himself in Courtney's eyes.

"I want you to hire some guys to break his legs," Marcus snarled, pacing the room. "Beat him up first, then break his legs."

"No. I'm not doing that." Brian's eye twitched as Marcus' wet shoes left unsightly brown-green marks across the plush grey carpet.

"If you watched her properly, this wouldn't have happened!" Marcus shouted. "This is YOUR fault. YOU fix it!"

"Why would Rachel's boyfriend do this?" Brian sweetly countered, on this rare occasion feeling his cool demeanour rapidly unravel. "You didn't do something very stupid, like confront him?"

"You work for me. Your job is to make my life easier. You're going to find some guys to-"

"No." Brian cut in, standing tall with an unusual assertiveness that made Marcus take a step back. "I worked for your parents. I try to stop you wrecking your life. But if you want to hurt an innocent man for giving you what you deserve, and end up in jail, then I'm out."

"Oh, you quit do you?" Marcus spat, too angry to realise Brian was serious. "You wanna walk out on me, when I need you? Fine. You're fired!"

"Good." Brian crossed his arms. "Now get the fuck out."

Something like panic flickered across Marcus' face. "But...? Wait. Brian-!"

But Brian had reached his limit. He really liked Courtney, and it wouldn't be the first budding relationship Marcus had ruined with his antics. Since the moment of disclosing Rachel's new relationship, he regretted it. Now, he was still paying for it.

At one point Brian briefly considered sneaking a girl into Ben's home to cause some upheaval, but he felt it was all becoming too complicated. Rachel didn't deserve that. And now Marcus' agenda was entering more dangerous legal territory than money could necessarily counter.

"Go, Marcus," Brian flatly interrupted. "I guess I should credit Rachel for having more sense than me for getting rid of you earlier."

In the midst of an apology, the mention of Rachel filled Marcus with a blinding rage.

"I'll show you!" he shouted. "I can handle this bullshit on my own! Go fuck yourself!"

With cynically raised eyebrows, Brian grimly watched the friendless Marcus stamp out, wondering what it was going to cost to replace everything irreparably damaged on his exit.

***********

The rest of the day went remarkably well for Ben and Rachel. Their chemistry was like a set of embers precariously bouncing along lighter fluid. It took less than a spark to start a raging fire that somehow always ended up in Ben's bed.

In the evening, Rachel leaned on the kitchen counter, wrapped in Ben's robe with a second glass of red wine. He'd insisted she wear his gown and nothing else. In return he promised to keep his pants on, though he refused to wear a shirt. He knew she liked to peek at him, when she thought he wasn't looking.

"Lush!" Ben scolded her, though his smile was approving.

Ben noticed she was starting to relax around him. If it took a day of fucking followed by a good bottle of wine, he had no problem maintaining the routine. The warm and fuzzy feelings she created in him made little sense, logically. But he certainly wasn't complaining.

"You're on your third glass!" she accused. Ben's eyes widened when she playfully licked the edge of the crystal bauble in her hand.

"I used one glass for cooking. And I'm twice your size!" he exclaimed, turning to stir the bubbling, bright red pot of homemade pasta sauce.

It was his great aunt's recipe, and he'd never cooked it for anyone outside his family, except Blake. He turned when a sprig of basil bounced off the side of his face. "Really? A food fight?"

Rachel barely had time to set her glass down before Ben crossed the kitchen and pulled her against him.

"Don't tempt me. I would so fucking love to cover you in pasta sauce," he murmured, slowly kissing her neck.

Rachel made a protesting sound as he gathered her into his arms in a tell-tale movement that always resulted in him carrying her off somewhere to do sexy things.

But he just held her against him, and Rachel realised he was staring with a slightly nervous expression. "I really have to ask you something. Please?"

Rachel shifted uneasily. "What?"

"The last guy. The one who broke up with you-"

"Huh?" Rachel said, bewildered. "I left him."

Opening his mouth, no sound came out as Ben was struck by a rare speechlessness. Though the answer pleased him immensely, it didn't explain her behaviour. "You...? You ended it with him?"

"Yes, if you can believe it," Rachel rolled her eyes at his shock, and extracted herself from his arms to recover her wine glass.

Ben's cheeks felt unusually warm as he realised how his reaction could be interpreted.

"I didn't presume you were dumped..." he hastily explained, praying she wasn't offended. "It's because of the way you acted before, it made me think..."

"I know," Rachel sighed, steeling herself for the conversation. She figured he wasn't going to let up on the topic until she opened up about it. The truth was, she might be critically insecure about herself, but she wasn't heartbroken about her ex.

Relieved he hadn't upset her, Ben went back to check on the sauce, then resumed preparing salad. "What happened?"

"A lot of things," she answered, peering into her wine. "It was alright at first. He lived a very different lifestyle, and wanted to incorporate me into it. But it wasn't for me, at all." She shrugged. "Then it was like he hated me, but wouldn't break up with me. So I did it for him."

Ben suddenly laughed. Having met Marcus, he had an idea of what the bastard was trying to do. Except there was no finesse about it.

Rachel glared. "Why is that funny?"

"His plan to keep you emotionally downtrodden backfired," he immediately replied, still chuckling. "I fucking love it."

"Oh." Rachel pondered the bright kitchen ceiling. "I never really thought of it that way. It just reached a point where I couldn't remember the last time I was happy with him. That, and I think he was putting sleeping pills in my food."

Something snapped in Ben's hands, and stalks of celery scattered across the floor. "What?"

"I don't know. He kept trying to get me to quit my job and I wouldn't. Then I began getting tired all the time, so much that I would have to miss a day now and then. I began to wonder. I really love my job, even though it's not so glamorous..." she trailed off self-consciously, her cheeks turning red.

Ben firmly held up a hand that slightly quivered with anger. "There's nothing wrong with loving what you do. I want to hear more about the drugging stuff."

"It was only a hunch. I don't want to go into it."

"Alright," he said heavily.

Looking down at the mess he'd made, Ben froze as a horrible thought struck him. He noticed Rachel was watching him expectantly, anticipating another question.

Ben hesitated, feeling sick as the question formed in his mind, afraid of what the answer would do to his temper. But he wouldn't be able to rest until he knew.

"Did the guy ever hit you?"

Rachel looked guarded. "No. But it was only a matter of time."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's what he said."

"THAT FUCK!" Ben shouted, and everything on the counter in front of him followed the celery onto the floor.

Startled by his sudden outburst, Rachel's grip on her wine slipped. The glass loudly shattered on the tiles and she backed away so quickly she almost fell over the couch.

Aware of his volatile behaviour, Ben raised his palms in a calming gesture. "Rae, I'm sorry. I'll clean up this mess. I'm sorry."

"What is... wrong with you?" she asked nervously. "Why are you so fixated on my past?"

Ben sharply exhaled. He didn't want their beginning to start with anything less than honesty. "You know how I had to leave this morning?"

"Yeah...?"

"My boss-of-sorts called me in, because your gazillionaire ex expressed interest in my services."

"Oh. Good."

"I should have-" Ben heatedly began, before doing a double-take, his face incredulous. "What? What do you mean, 'Good?'"

"It explains your weirdness today. I was getting worried after you hid my handbag..."

"Well, how else could I stop you leaving? Not that it even worked!" he said indignantly, gingerly stepping over broken glass to where she'd perched on the back of the couch. Standing between her legs, he reached around to squeeze her ass and press her tightly against him.

"You'll never have a reason to fear me, I promise," he murmured, resting his chin atop her head. "But you have to promise that you won't run away when my back is turned."

"I promise," she said dreamily, enjoying the heat of his bare chest on her cheek.

"If I ever see that asshole again, I'm going to do more than throw him in a dumpster-!"

Rachel burst into a peal of laughter, and Ben straightened to look down at her, slightly mesmerised by her light-heartedness in such a moment.

"Did you really?" she giggled, sobering as Ben still looked serious. "Ben, forget him. It doesn't matter."

"What do you mean? Of course it-!"

"I'm not with him. I'm with you," she interrupted with a light shrug, unaware how her words thrilled him. "Why give him a second thought?"

"You're right," he muttered. Fuck Marcus. Ben had everything he needed. So long as Rachel was in his life, he was winning.

"Ben!" Rachel squealed as he suddenly released her. She fell back on the couch with an unpleasant sense of not knowing where she would land.

Ben laughed and followed, quickly pressing her into the cushions before she could get away. The gown was open, and he couldn't resist placing kisses all over her soft, perky breasts before trailing his lips up her neck.

"Ben!" she gasped, her heart still thudding with surprise. "The sauce!"

"Fuck the sauce, I want to fuck you!" he grinned, nibbling her ear. "I have a bad feeling you're gonna turn my home into a chaotic mess..."

"That's your fault!" she protested, squirming as his hand determinedly slid up her thigh. "Ben, please!"

"Just a quickie?" Ben breathed. His fingertips sneakily traced her pussy, and she shuddered responsively from his touch. He wanted to be snugly sheathed inside her. Forever.

"B-But I'm hungry!" Rachel said pleadingly. It was true, and after being tormented by the delicious scent of cooking, the thought of the sauce ruining was too much to bear.

"But I'm hungry, for you..."

"Ben, please!"

"Aw." Ben sighed. He could never say 'no' when she begged.

"Umm...so, Ben," Rachel began, sounding slightly awkward. As she blushed, Ben patiently waited to hear her concerns.

"So about the whole condom thing...well...no condom thing..."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, yeah!" she exclaimed, wriggling out from under him but allowing herself to be drawn into his lap.

"Is it really?" he purred against her cheek. He tugged the shoulder of the gown so he could sensually stroke up her bare arm.

"Yes!" she insisted, trying to resist his advances. "I don't want to get...you know..."

"What, a disease?" he kidded. "I've always used condoms. I just don't like using them with you."

"Are you trying to knock me up?" she asked bluntly.

"Well, no. But if it happened..."

"Ben!"

"...I could easily support a little brood," he finished, with an evil smile. Their kids would be adorable, he just knew it.

"I'm sorry," Rachel mumbled, shaking her head. "I like you. But that's much too fast."

"Alright, no problem. I'll wear the plastic fantastics," Ben stoically agreed, his mind more unsettled by another minor detail - 'I like you.'

Coming to his senses, Ben quickly got over his disappointment. Just because he fell uncharacteristically hard and fast, didn't mean she would be the same. And he wouldn't want her to lie about her feelings.

"Come on, let's check on the food," he said, forcing a smile as she watched him searchingly.

"You're going to need strength for later," he added, leading her to the kitchen. "Fuck, glass on the floor. Hold on." He darted out of sight, then reappeared with a broom and navy-blue slippers. "Put these on. Let me just sweep this aside."

Rachel donned the slippers and shyly watched Ben briskly clear a path for them. With no shirt on, she could admire the toned contours of his physique, his broad shoulders and muscular arms that felt great to hold when they fucked.

She still wondered why this hunk wanted her so determinedly, when he must have hordes of girls panting for him. She certainly was, before he caught her. Rachel jumped and her cheeks flooded with colour when Ben cleared his throat.

"Are you sure you don't want to...?" he wickedly offered, suggestively raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, I'm sure!" she said, blushing furiously at his knowing look. "I want to try the sauce!"

"It'll be temperature hot. Just a second." Ben gently edged her back from the stove, and dipped a wooden spoon into the bubbling red mass.