Romances of Maury Parkman, Chapter 1: Getting Ahead in the Company
Title: The Romances of Maury Parkman
Characters: Maury Parkman, Angela Petrelli, Patricia Pennington (OC)
Rating: NC-17 for the first three chapters, R for the last three
Genre: Gen/Het, Romance, Drama
Warnings: Explicit sexual content
Word count: ~23,000 in 6 chapters
Setting: Shattered Salvation AU (it helps to have read other stuff, but isn't strictly necessary). This story begins in early summer of 2010 and ends in spring of 2011. It is set post season 4, following canon with the exception of "The Art of Deception," "The Wall," and "Brave New World." (Those episodes didn't happen in the AU.) Also, Maury Parkman's "death" in anon is explained as being just another mental projection, staged for Daphne at Arthur's behest - so he's still alive and kicking.
Summary: Maury Parkman has begun working for the Company again, but his life is rather empty. Everyone he knows hates him or is used by him. He begins to realize this isn't how he wants to spend what little is left of his life. The first three chapters recount encounters with the OC Patty, but he breaks that off to pursue Angela Petrelli.
Author’s Notes: As usual for my stories, italics are thoughts. Italic and underlined are mental commands ("push a thought" or "a whammy"). Bold is forceful emphasis. Italics in the context of a quoted statement is pitch-change emphasis.
Given that Maury is nearing 70 years old, I think I'll give you an age!sex heads-up.
Here at the beginning, Matt Parkman had fallen into a destructive relationship with Patty (he moved out on Janice after having complications with his ability, finding himself pushing her mentally sometimes when he didn't intend to). Maury Parkman showed up to pull his son out of this lifestyle and get him straightened out. In the process, Patty made a pass at Maury, who fobbed her off by mentally inserting a memory of her screwing Matt instead. Matt took this very badly.
Patricia didn't go with Matt. She'd been told to. She'd gone as far as the car with him before starting the fight. He was done with her so thoroughly she wanted to rip his balls off, gouge his eyes out, grab his hair and slam his head into the frame of the car. He could hear her thoughts and he clearly wasn't happy about them, but there was no apology or contrition or guilt, not that such would have done anything other than set her off even more. He was angry. He was very angry and she knew if she pushed him too far he'd lash out at her. She wasn't afraid of him. She never had been and so she started the fight.
It was only verbal. He didn't make it mental because that wasn't fair and anyway she had an annoying habit of finding ways to disrupt him when he did that, if the argument didn't go her way. He'd commanded her not to hit him or hurt him, but he'd always been shy of putting too many limits on her. She wasn't worth being with if he did that. It left her a lot of leeway and she was very creative.
"I thought it was you!" she said hotly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"It wasn't me, it was him," Matt growled, thinking he could end this by telling her to shut up and go away. Last time he tried that she'd dumped a can of paint on him that evening and he'd nearly taken his skin off with thinner to get rid of it.
"I don't give a shit who it was, Matt! I thought it was you." She swallowed, wishing she could make him understand that it didn't matter to her that it may have actually been Maury. She wouldn't have even gone to his room if Matt hadn't kicked her out, so clearly this was his fault.
He glared at her over the top of the car. "Did it ever occur to you that it matters to me? That's my father in there. He was with you. If I touch you I'm… that's…" His lip curled in disgust. His father hadn't lured her into his room - Matt was sure of that. She'd gone there willingly, so she was the guilty party in this. "I don't want to ever touch you again." His voice was cold and hard. In a low, dangerous voice, he said, "Get away from me. Like I said in there, I'm done with you."
He looked back up at the apartment, wondering if his father would force him to take her with him. He guessed he'd find out. Technically Maury had told her to go with him, not Matt to bring her along, so he wasn't disobeying orders by leaving her. He got in the car and when she opened the door he snapped a command at her, "Go away." She turned on her heel with a sharp, angry exhalation and walked away, leaving the car door open intentionally. It made him have to lean over to shut it. Only a few days before, he would have done something a lot worse than tell her to leave him alone, but his father's presence had brought consequences to his actions and an element of restraint to his conduct. It was something Matt hadn't had to consider for months. He drove off in irritation without taking his wrath out on anyone.
She stalked inside the apartment and walked directly up to Maury, who was on the phone. He said into it, "I'll call you back. … Yeah, no problem." He hung up and looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. She'd come to him night before last, kneeling next to the air mattress he was using as a bed and fumbling at his blanket. She'd intended to curry favor with him as she'd been trying, desperately, to do pretty much since he'd arrived. He'd stopped her and sent her back to Matt with her lust quenched.
He hadn't really thought about how Matt would respond to it. Matt had put her out of his bed, she'd come to Maury, and the old man really hadn't touched her. He'd given her a fantasy - one that starred Matt, no less, and in quite a complimentary role - and sent her back. Maury didn't think he'd done anything wrong. Matt, it turned out, felt quite a bit differently. He'd been cheated on before and exceptionally sensitive to being cuckolded.
Matt didn't trust Patty (which was smart) and he'd misinterpreted one of his precognitive visions, thinking Maury would reject her and she'd come crawling back. Instead, the vision of Matt and Patty being together was the fantasy Maury had put into her mind. It infuriated his son, made him all the more angry because he'd foreseen it and misunderstood. He couldn't lash out at his father, but Patty was a fair target. He'd been hitting her one way or another since it had happened. Maury had had to pull Matt off of her twice now, but he hadn't run her off yet. She was persistent, Maury had to give her that.
She stood before him and opened her mind to the older man as Matt had shown her. She stepped closer to him, telegraphing her movements, thinking loudly about what she was doing. He was a man. She was a woman. She didn't want to be refused again, but she didn't know what it was she needed to do to gain his approval. She put her hands on his hips. He raised his brows slightly. She slid her body against his and looked into his hooded eyes. She wanted him to want her. She needed… no, wanted, one of them to want her and if she was ruined for Matt, then she'd try the one who had ruined her.
Maury raised his right hand to the join of her neck and shoulder, touching her skin, meeting her eyes and saying nothing. Her brows pulled together just slightly at the touch. She felt something mentally, but it was fleeting. She breathed more deeply, letting him inside in every way she knew. His hand moved towards her arm and rolled around the point of her shoulder gently, stroking in circles. It was a wonderful feeling - pleasant and warm without committing her to anything. She wanted more. His hand descended across the swell of her left breast. Her breath caught as he paused just north of the more sensitive portion, somehow knowing exactly where it was through blouse and bra. He smiled a little and his thumb swept down, rubbing back and forth. She smiled back, softly. She had him and she knew it.
Each pass of his thumb ran through her body, clenching her, making her clitoris throb distantly in echo as he brushed her nipple. His hand drifted lower, his fingertips crossing over her aureole and then across her belly. He stepped to the left and to her side, tilting his head slightly and keeping constant, mesmerizing eye contact. She lost herself in those dark orbs, hypnotic in their intensity. Her body responded strongly to his touch, to the anticipation. His fingers found the waistband of her slacks. It was elastic and his entire hand slipped boldly under it, pulling out her shirt and sending his questing digits beneath her underwear. His soft smile became a smirk and then she gasped at the feeling of his skin against hers.
He found her and without preamble, with a certainty that surprised her, his index finger slid over her clitoris and down deeper, then back up, bringing wetness from below to lubricate her. She gave a cry at the contact and leaned against him, breathing harder. She put her head down on his chest. He reached up with his left hand and ran it into her hair, pulling her head back so she was looking into his eyes again. He would see her and he would have her look nowhere else but at his face. The erotic intensity of that gaze was overwhelming. She stared into his eyes and let them absorb her. The world fell away - everything but the sensation of his touch and her response.
His fingers stroked across her surely and gently, in time with the throbbing of her body. She was wet. Her knees felt weak. She wanted more desperately, to wrap her legs around him and take him inside of her. She was back in that apartment, two years ago, with the three men she'd sold drugs to, the ones who raped her. She'd hated it at the time, but she'd often fantasized about it since. It didn't mean she'd ever seek them out, but she remembered how she'd felt. The arousal had been all-consuming. Her attempt to go along with it and keep some vestige of control had let her ride it out without terror or panic. They didn't care about her satisfaction, but it didn't matter. There were three of them and she peaked repeatedly whether she wanted to or not.
She remembered how they felt within her, one after another, filling her. The first was rough and forceful. It had burned. She hadn't been ready. But after he spilled his seed into her, the next slid in easily and she climaxed almost immediately, knowing she was being passed off, having found no satisfaction in the first coupling. The events and the sensations played through her mind with a gripping realism. She wasn't sure if she was there or it was a memory. She didn't care. She could feel their hands on her, the organ within her, their bodies pressing into hers. She let it take her.
The second had pumped into her steadily and mechanically with a regular rhythm that eventually brought her again. He was the only one who seemed to care about her. When he felt her spasm around his cock, his expression changed and he asked her if she wanted it, was enjoying it. She told him yes. He smiled, suddenly pleased and she'd realized he was screwing her not because he wanted to, but to maintain his standing with his friends. He felt pressured into it - not as much as she was, but it helped her to realize that. He thrust into her harder and came soon thereafter.
The last one didn't make it long. He'd been stroking himself and watching. He hammered into her so hard and so fast though that she came again, clinging to the mattress and hooking her legs behind him as the first held her down by the shoulders. It wasn't necessary, but he did it anyway. She'd fought them only enough that they had to force her onto the bed. The man who had her last had threatened to hit her and she'd stopped struggling, letting them get her clothes off and have her. He had held her for the first, stroking her face with his fingers while the other man fucked her. She hadn't bitten him. She even sucked at his fingers cooperatively and his eyes had glazed at that.
She'd felt so used, so alive and so thoroughly satiated afterward it was obscene. She understood why many women didn't report rapes, not if some of the experiences left them feeling like this. She felt like an animal in heat that had been fought over and claimed and plowed. Tremor after tremor ran through her, every orgasm she'd felt then, every pleasure made real and immediate and present. She gasped and shuddered and was dimly aware she'd broken eye contact. She'd forgotten she even had it, the vision in her mind's eye being stronger than mere optical input.
She sagged against Maury Parkman, feeling his right hand against the bare skin of her neck, his thumb resting lightly against her pulse. That wasn't where she thought his right hand had been. It was dry and cool, without a trace of dampness from her body. Her face was nearly in his armpit from where she pressed against him. She could smell his deodorant, though since he'd showered just an hour before, that was all. He still had that 'old man' smell. He shifted her so her face was against the right side of his neck, her forehead against his jaw. Her breathing was slowing, her eyelids heavy. She gazed blankly at his neck and the very top of his chest. Grey hair peeked out. His skin was wrinkled and thin, splotchy. It was kind of repellant. It reminded her of her grandfather. Maury was old enough for that, she assumed. He tensed several times in series.
She looked up at him curiously and he stopped trying to stifle his laughter at the ridiculousness of the nearly fifty year age gap between them. He laughed. She glanced down at her clothing. Her shirt wasn't even untucked, but the pleasure had been quite real. Her panties were sodden. His chuckles faded and she put her head back against his chest. She pulled her thoughts together and focused. That's what happened night before last, when I thought it was Matt? The whole thing was an illusion?
Yes.
I like it. A lot.
He smirked. Good. That was my intention.
She let her hand drift down his front to his crotch. He tightened across the shoulders and swallowed. She hesitated, but he didn't stop her or otherwise indicate her touch was unwelcome. She caressed him through his slacks. He wasn't erect, but he was swollen and soft. She wanted power over him. She wanted to give him something - not just receive and have him walk on without needing her, wanting her. She looked up at him, kneading him gently. He looked at her and then away, breathing a little harder. It felt good, but he was very unsure as to whether he should let her. Doing so would make things different and he knew that even more clearly than she did. She hesitated and stopped working him, worried she was offending him, that he was only tolerating her.
He looked back and kissed her briefly on the forehead. She swallowed uneasily, her hand still on him, confused. She thought to him, What will you let me do for you? Should I do this? …I want to do this.
He was silent for a long while, looking down at her with an intent expression. She could feel him sorting through her. She relaxed against him and let him, feeling another desperate surge of need to gain a foothold with him since Matt had rejected her. Their abilities were something she dreamed about. She had to offer him something he wanted that she could give. She didn't have an ability or contacts or money, but she had herself. It's what Matt had wanted from her.
He needed to know she saw this as a transaction, not a promise of love. He was uninterested in having her service him if he was going to have to deal with her sobbing later about how he didn't return her affection. However, he was perfectly willing to pay for his pleasure as long as the price wasn't too high. He didn't have any illusions that this was love or even fondness. He looked in her mind and saw she didn't have those illusions either.
Go ahead, he thought to her. Do it then, but forgive me if… I'm not a young man. You know that?
She shut her eyes and put her head against his chest, unfastening his slacks. I know. I've been with a few older men. She tried not to think about those, but it didn't work. The two oldest had both been unpleasant, met at the movie industry parties she'd gone to. One had been high on who knows what and become distracted in the middle of the act, wandering out of the room naked with a boner. The other had poked at her for most of an hour, seeming vacuously pleased with himself and never getting anywhere. He finally stopped because he decided it was time to go back to the bar and have another drink. She'd felt like an appliance for both men. It made her hate Viagra.
He touched her cheek as she opened his clothing and pulled him out. He stroked her face with the back of his hand and kissed her forehead again. You're not an appliance. If I wanted to pleasure myself I could.
You could have anyone, she thought, wrapping her hand around his thickness and caressing him. She lusted after that sort of power.
I know. He didn't project anything else to her, even when she looked at him questioningly. He just smiled a little and stroked her face again. He was thinking he could have anyone, but she was the only one volunteering.
She sank down on her knees and took him into her mouth, rolling his still somewhat flaccid organ with her tongue. He leaned back against the wall and got comfortable, shutting out her mind and focusing on the sensations she brought him. He didn't care to hear her side of it - not for fellatio. Even if she was one of those women who got off on it, giving head wasn't a pleasure he shared. Receiving it was a different matter. He put his head back and closed his eyes, groaning as she sucked and began to bob like a professional. She didn't hurry or make any indication that he was taking too long. He stayed out of her mind and enjoyed himself, imagining other women in her place, women he missed and wished he could be with again.
He let his hands play with the top of her head. When he was fully hard, he ran his fingers into her hair, gripping her. She didn't object. Instead she turned her head a little to ease her breathing and took him even deeper. She was ready when he started moving her head on him, fucking her mouth and the moist warmth of the back of her throat, ringing the head of his dick. Her tongue swirled against his shaft and pulled him in deep. He moaned in approval, pushing into her until he could feel her gag reflex teasing the end of his cock.
He let her go until she had control of herself again. She took several deep breaths and sucked on just the head, her lips wrapped around the flange of his tip. He watched her doing it for a few moments, then leaned back when she looked up at him. He returned to his fantasies, not wanting the eye contact. She alternated taking him deep in her throat and then working the end.
She was being patient with him. He appreciated that. He could feel his crest coming. He put his hands to her head again, just stroking her hair this time as his hips began to move against her. She tilted her head and took him deeply again. At the feel of himself entirely within her mouth this time, he pressed her face to his groin and groaned, losing himself in her. He pulled back as quickly as he could manage. She struggled for a moment, then swallowed.
He sighed voluminously. "Ohhh, boyyy. Thank you." He smiled lazily. Well, I suppose I've fucked it up now. Matt will never have her - oversensitive bastard. He's an idiot. I wouldn't have done that the other night if I'd known he'd have a fit over it. No way I can salvage it now. She tucked him away and took care of his clothing. He let her. When she stood up, he pulled her to him and held her against his chest, feeling the swell of her ample bosom between them. It felt nice. He rested his cheek against her hair.
He trolled through her thoughts. She was still concerned over what would happen to her. He found it a good sign that she didn't think one blow job was going to make him silly over her. She worried that if she tried to run the operation without at least one of them, she would fail or have to scale back dramatically. It wasn't that she wanted the organization anyway. It could crash and burn for all she cared, because she'd found something she wanted more. She wanted a piece of the super-powered pie. There were people out there with abilities and that was a lot more important than any amount of drugs or money or guns or even her fledging acting career.
He petted her back. I need to get her out of here before Matt finds out about this and goes ballistic. "Patty, there's a company you can join. I'll sponsor your entry. I think it's what you want, or at close as you're likely to get to it, anyway."
He winced a little at the thoughts she had next, thinking he had gone silly over her. She smiled smugly at him and he laughed, chucking her chin. "Yeah, you're good, babe, but don't get any ideas."
Characters: Maury Parkman, Angela Petrelli, Patricia Pennington (OC)
Rating: NC-17 for the first three chapters, R for the last three
Genre: Gen/Het, Romance, Drama
Warnings: Explicit sexual content
Word count: ~23,000 in 6 chapters
Setting: Shattered Salvation AU (it helps to have read other stuff, but isn't strictly necessary). This story begins in early summer of 2010 and ends in spring of 2011. It is set post season 4, following canon with the exception of "The Art of Deception," "The Wall," and "Brave New World." (Those episodes didn't happen in the AU.) Also, Maury Parkman's "death" in anon is explained as being just another mental projection, staged for Daphne at Arthur's behest - so he's still alive and kicking.
Summary: Maury Parkman has begun working for the Company again, but his life is rather empty. Everyone he knows hates him or is used by him. He begins to realize this isn't how he wants to spend what little is left of his life. The first three chapters recount encounters with the OC Patty, but he breaks that off to pursue Angela Petrelli.
Author’s Notes: As usual for my stories, italics are thoughts. Italic and underlined are mental commands ("push a thought" or "a whammy"). Bold is forceful emphasis. Italics in the context of a quoted statement is pitch-change emphasis.
Given that Maury is nearing 70 years old, I think I'll give you an age!sex heads-up.
Here at the beginning, Matt Parkman had fallen into a destructive relationship with Patty (he moved out on Janice after having complications with his ability, finding himself pushing her mentally sometimes when he didn't intend to). Maury Parkman showed up to pull his son out of this lifestyle and get him straightened out. In the process, Patty made a pass at Maury, who fobbed her off by mentally inserting a memory of her screwing Matt instead. Matt took this very badly.
Patricia didn't go with Matt. She'd been told to. She'd gone as far as the car with him before starting the fight. He was done with her so thoroughly she wanted to rip his balls off, gouge his eyes out, grab his hair and slam his head into the frame of the car. He could hear her thoughts and he clearly wasn't happy about them, but there was no apology or contrition or guilt, not that such would have done anything other than set her off even more. He was angry. He was very angry and she knew if she pushed him too far he'd lash out at her. She wasn't afraid of him. She never had been and so she started the fight.
It was only verbal. He didn't make it mental because that wasn't fair and anyway she had an annoying habit of finding ways to disrupt him when he did that, if the argument didn't go her way. He'd commanded her not to hit him or hurt him, but he'd always been shy of putting too many limits on her. She wasn't worth being with if he did that. It left her a lot of leeway and she was very creative.
"I thought it was you!" she said hotly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"It wasn't me, it was him," Matt growled, thinking he could end this by telling her to shut up and go away. Last time he tried that she'd dumped a can of paint on him that evening and he'd nearly taken his skin off with thinner to get rid of it.
"I don't give a shit who it was, Matt! I thought it was you." She swallowed, wishing she could make him understand that it didn't matter to her that it may have actually been Maury. She wouldn't have even gone to his room if Matt hadn't kicked her out, so clearly this was his fault.
He glared at her over the top of the car. "Did it ever occur to you that it matters to me? That's my father in there. He was with you. If I touch you I'm… that's…" His lip curled in disgust. His father hadn't lured her into his room - Matt was sure of that. She'd gone there willingly, so she was the guilty party in this. "I don't want to ever touch you again." His voice was cold and hard. In a low, dangerous voice, he said, "Get away from me. Like I said in there, I'm done with you."
He looked back up at the apartment, wondering if his father would force him to take her with him. He guessed he'd find out. Technically Maury had told her to go with him, not Matt to bring her along, so he wasn't disobeying orders by leaving her. He got in the car and when she opened the door he snapped a command at her, "Go away." She turned on her heel with a sharp, angry exhalation and walked away, leaving the car door open intentionally. It made him have to lean over to shut it. Only a few days before, he would have done something a lot worse than tell her to leave him alone, but his father's presence had brought consequences to his actions and an element of restraint to his conduct. It was something Matt hadn't had to consider for months. He drove off in irritation without taking his wrath out on anyone.
She stalked inside the apartment and walked directly up to Maury, who was on the phone. He said into it, "I'll call you back. … Yeah, no problem." He hung up and looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. She'd come to him night before last, kneeling next to the air mattress he was using as a bed and fumbling at his blanket. She'd intended to curry favor with him as she'd been trying, desperately, to do pretty much since he'd arrived. He'd stopped her and sent her back to Matt with her lust quenched.
He hadn't really thought about how Matt would respond to it. Matt had put her out of his bed, she'd come to Maury, and the old man really hadn't touched her. He'd given her a fantasy - one that starred Matt, no less, and in quite a complimentary role - and sent her back. Maury didn't think he'd done anything wrong. Matt, it turned out, felt quite a bit differently. He'd been cheated on before and exceptionally sensitive to being cuckolded.
Matt didn't trust Patty (which was smart) and he'd misinterpreted one of his precognitive visions, thinking Maury would reject her and she'd come crawling back. Instead, the vision of Matt and Patty being together was the fantasy Maury had put into her mind. It infuriated his son, made him all the more angry because he'd foreseen it and misunderstood. He couldn't lash out at his father, but Patty was a fair target. He'd been hitting her one way or another since it had happened. Maury had had to pull Matt off of her twice now, but he hadn't run her off yet. She was persistent, Maury had to give her that.
She stood before him and opened her mind to the older man as Matt had shown her. She stepped closer to him, telegraphing her movements, thinking loudly about what she was doing. He was a man. She was a woman. She didn't want to be refused again, but she didn't know what it was she needed to do to gain his approval. She put her hands on his hips. He raised his brows slightly. She slid her body against his and looked into his hooded eyes. She wanted him to want her. She needed… no, wanted, one of them to want her and if she was ruined for Matt, then she'd try the one who had ruined her.
Maury raised his right hand to the join of her neck and shoulder, touching her skin, meeting her eyes and saying nothing. Her brows pulled together just slightly at the touch. She felt something mentally, but it was fleeting. She breathed more deeply, letting him inside in every way she knew. His hand moved towards her arm and rolled around the point of her shoulder gently, stroking in circles. It was a wonderful feeling - pleasant and warm without committing her to anything. She wanted more. His hand descended across the swell of her left breast. Her breath caught as he paused just north of the more sensitive portion, somehow knowing exactly where it was through blouse and bra. He smiled a little and his thumb swept down, rubbing back and forth. She smiled back, softly. She had him and she knew it.
Each pass of his thumb ran through her body, clenching her, making her clitoris throb distantly in echo as he brushed her nipple. His hand drifted lower, his fingertips crossing over her aureole and then across her belly. He stepped to the left and to her side, tilting his head slightly and keeping constant, mesmerizing eye contact. She lost herself in those dark orbs, hypnotic in their intensity. Her body responded strongly to his touch, to the anticipation. His fingers found the waistband of her slacks. It was elastic and his entire hand slipped boldly under it, pulling out her shirt and sending his questing digits beneath her underwear. His soft smile became a smirk and then she gasped at the feeling of his skin against hers.
He found her and without preamble, with a certainty that surprised her, his index finger slid over her clitoris and down deeper, then back up, bringing wetness from below to lubricate her. She gave a cry at the contact and leaned against him, breathing harder. She put her head down on his chest. He reached up with his left hand and ran it into her hair, pulling her head back so she was looking into his eyes again. He would see her and he would have her look nowhere else but at his face. The erotic intensity of that gaze was overwhelming. She stared into his eyes and let them absorb her. The world fell away - everything but the sensation of his touch and her response.
His fingers stroked across her surely and gently, in time with the throbbing of her body. She was wet. Her knees felt weak. She wanted more desperately, to wrap her legs around him and take him inside of her. She was back in that apartment, two years ago, with the three men she'd sold drugs to, the ones who raped her. She'd hated it at the time, but she'd often fantasized about it since. It didn't mean she'd ever seek them out, but she remembered how she'd felt. The arousal had been all-consuming. Her attempt to go along with it and keep some vestige of control had let her ride it out without terror or panic. They didn't care about her satisfaction, but it didn't matter. There were three of them and she peaked repeatedly whether she wanted to or not.
She remembered how they felt within her, one after another, filling her. The first was rough and forceful. It had burned. She hadn't been ready. But after he spilled his seed into her, the next slid in easily and she climaxed almost immediately, knowing she was being passed off, having found no satisfaction in the first coupling. The events and the sensations played through her mind with a gripping realism. She wasn't sure if she was there or it was a memory. She didn't care. She could feel their hands on her, the organ within her, their bodies pressing into hers. She let it take her.
The second had pumped into her steadily and mechanically with a regular rhythm that eventually brought her again. He was the only one who seemed to care about her. When he felt her spasm around his cock, his expression changed and he asked her if she wanted it, was enjoying it. She told him yes. He smiled, suddenly pleased and she'd realized he was screwing her not because he wanted to, but to maintain his standing with his friends. He felt pressured into it - not as much as she was, but it helped her to realize that. He thrust into her harder and came soon thereafter.
The last one didn't make it long. He'd been stroking himself and watching. He hammered into her so hard and so fast though that she came again, clinging to the mattress and hooking her legs behind him as the first held her down by the shoulders. It wasn't necessary, but he did it anyway. She'd fought them only enough that they had to force her onto the bed. The man who had her last had threatened to hit her and she'd stopped struggling, letting them get her clothes off and have her. He had held her for the first, stroking her face with his fingers while the other man fucked her. She hadn't bitten him. She even sucked at his fingers cooperatively and his eyes had glazed at that.
She'd felt so used, so alive and so thoroughly satiated afterward it was obscene. She understood why many women didn't report rapes, not if some of the experiences left them feeling like this. She felt like an animal in heat that had been fought over and claimed and plowed. Tremor after tremor ran through her, every orgasm she'd felt then, every pleasure made real and immediate and present. She gasped and shuddered and was dimly aware she'd broken eye contact. She'd forgotten she even had it, the vision in her mind's eye being stronger than mere optical input.
She sagged against Maury Parkman, feeling his right hand against the bare skin of her neck, his thumb resting lightly against her pulse. That wasn't where she thought his right hand had been. It was dry and cool, without a trace of dampness from her body. Her face was nearly in his armpit from where she pressed against him. She could smell his deodorant, though since he'd showered just an hour before, that was all. He still had that 'old man' smell. He shifted her so her face was against the right side of his neck, her forehead against his jaw. Her breathing was slowing, her eyelids heavy. She gazed blankly at his neck and the very top of his chest. Grey hair peeked out. His skin was wrinkled and thin, splotchy. It was kind of repellant. It reminded her of her grandfather. Maury was old enough for that, she assumed. He tensed several times in series.
She looked up at him curiously and he stopped trying to stifle his laughter at the ridiculousness of the nearly fifty year age gap between them. He laughed. She glanced down at her clothing. Her shirt wasn't even untucked, but the pleasure had been quite real. Her panties were sodden. His chuckles faded and she put her head back against his chest. She pulled her thoughts together and focused. That's what happened night before last, when I thought it was Matt? The whole thing was an illusion?
Yes.
I like it. A lot.
He smirked. Good. That was my intention.
She let her hand drift down his front to his crotch. He tightened across the shoulders and swallowed. She hesitated, but he didn't stop her or otherwise indicate her touch was unwelcome. She caressed him through his slacks. He wasn't erect, but he was swollen and soft. She wanted power over him. She wanted to give him something - not just receive and have him walk on without needing her, wanting her. She looked up at him, kneading him gently. He looked at her and then away, breathing a little harder. It felt good, but he was very unsure as to whether he should let her. Doing so would make things different and he knew that even more clearly than she did. She hesitated and stopped working him, worried she was offending him, that he was only tolerating her.
He looked back and kissed her briefly on the forehead. She swallowed uneasily, her hand still on him, confused. She thought to him, What will you let me do for you? Should I do this? …I want to do this.
He was silent for a long while, looking down at her with an intent expression. She could feel him sorting through her. She relaxed against him and let him, feeling another desperate surge of need to gain a foothold with him since Matt had rejected her. Their abilities were something she dreamed about. She had to offer him something he wanted that she could give. She didn't have an ability or contacts or money, but she had herself. It's what Matt had wanted from her.
He needed to know she saw this as a transaction, not a promise of love. He was uninterested in having her service him if he was going to have to deal with her sobbing later about how he didn't return her affection. However, he was perfectly willing to pay for his pleasure as long as the price wasn't too high. He didn't have any illusions that this was love or even fondness. He looked in her mind and saw she didn't have those illusions either.
Go ahead, he thought to her. Do it then, but forgive me if… I'm not a young man. You know that?
She shut her eyes and put her head against his chest, unfastening his slacks. I know. I've been with a few older men. She tried not to think about those, but it didn't work. The two oldest had both been unpleasant, met at the movie industry parties she'd gone to. One had been high on who knows what and become distracted in the middle of the act, wandering out of the room naked with a boner. The other had poked at her for most of an hour, seeming vacuously pleased with himself and never getting anywhere. He finally stopped because he decided it was time to go back to the bar and have another drink. She'd felt like an appliance for both men. It made her hate Viagra.
He touched her cheek as she opened his clothing and pulled him out. He stroked her face with the back of his hand and kissed her forehead again. You're not an appliance. If I wanted to pleasure myself I could.
You could have anyone, she thought, wrapping her hand around his thickness and caressing him. She lusted after that sort of power.
I know. He didn't project anything else to her, even when she looked at him questioningly. He just smiled a little and stroked her face again. He was thinking he could have anyone, but she was the only one volunteering.
She sank down on her knees and took him into her mouth, rolling his still somewhat flaccid organ with her tongue. He leaned back against the wall and got comfortable, shutting out her mind and focusing on the sensations she brought him. He didn't care to hear her side of it - not for fellatio. Even if she was one of those women who got off on it, giving head wasn't a pleasure he shared. Receiving it was a different matter. He put his head back and closed his eyes, groaning as she sucked and began to bob like a professional. She didn't hurry or make any indication that he was taking too long. He stayed out of her mind and enjoyed himself, imagining other women in her place, women he missed and wished he could be with again.
He let his hands play with the top of her head. When he was fully hard, he ran his fingers into her hair, gripping her. She didn't object. Instead she turned her head a little to ease her breathing and took him even deeper. She was ready when he started moving her head on him, fucking her mouth and the moist warmth of the back of her throat, ringing the head of his dick. Her tongue swirled against his shaft and pulled him in deep. He moaned in approval, pushing into her until he could feel her gag reflex teasing the end of his cock.
He let her go until she had control of herself again. She took several deep breaths and sucked on just the head, her lips wrapped around the flange of his tip. He watched her doing it for a few moments, then leaned back when she looked up at him. He returned to his fantasies, not wanting the eye contact. She alternated taking him deep in her throat and then working the end.
She was being patient with him. He appreciated that. He could feel his crest coming. He put his hands to her head again, just stroking her hair this time as his hips began to move against her. She tilted her head and took him deeply again. At the feel of himself entirely within her mouth this time, he pressed her face to his groin and groaned, losing himself in her. He pulled back as quickly as he could manage. She struggled for a moment, then swallowed.
He sighed voluminously. "Ohhh, boyyy. Thank you." He smiled lazily. Well, I suppose I've fucked it up now. Matt will never have her - oversensitive bastard. He's an idiot. I wouldn't have done that the other night if I'd known he'd have a fit over it. No way I can salvage it now. She tucked him away and took care of his clothing. He let her. When she stood up, he pulled her to him and held her against his chest, feeling the swell of her ample bosom between them. It felt nice. He rested his cheek against her hair.
He trolled through her thoughts. She was still concerned over what would happen to her. He found it a good sign that she didn't think one blow job was going to make him silly over her. She worried that if she tried to run the operation without at least one of them, she would fail or have to scale back dramatically. It wasn't that she wanted the organization anyway. It could crash and burn for all she cared, because she'd found something she wanted more. She wanted a piece of the super-powered pie. There were people out there with abilities and that was a lot more important than any amount of drugs or money or guns or even her fledging acting career.
He petted her back. I need to get her out of here before Matt finds out about this and goes ballistic. "Patty, there's a company you can join. I'll sponsor your entry. I think it's what you want, or at close as you're likely to get to it, anyway."
He winced a little at the thoughts she had next, thinking he had gone silly over her. She smiled smugly at him and he laughed, chucking her chin. "Yeah, you're good, babe, but don't get any ideas."