Cassandra and Flynn - An Interlude

He opened his eyes. The room was dark. His whole body felt delectably relaxed. A very mild soreness in his shoulders, upper arms, and upper back. Cassandra still lay face down on him, breathing soundlessly slow and deep. He turned his head right and it was still dark out the window. The clock read "6:26." He sighed and reached up, brought around the bottle of gatorade and chugged it. He looked down at her. He reached back and put the bottle on the nightstand, then gently eased her off him, over onto her back, lifted her head and smoothed her hair down, settled the pillow under her, and let her down. He tucked her in, watched and waited. She was dead asleep.

He eased out of bed, stood and cracked all the knuckles he could crack, fingers, wrists, elbows, shoulderblades, neck, jaw. He turned and smiled at her. He walked around, stooped and threw on his underwear and sweatpants, then breathed deep as he looked around the room. There was a fireplace in an alcove of the wall to his left, no wood and very little ash in it. He walked through the door to the shower, entered and padded around, looking at the showerheads. There was a glass door in the far wall he had not noticed, and he opened and went through it. A second door stood before him. There was a toilet to his right and a towel rack to his left. He opened the door, walked through and stood. The room was too dark for him to see. There was a switch on the wall to his right and he closed the door, then flicked it up. A gymnasium flooded to light.

A three-tiered dumbbell rack, a treadmill, a barbell bench, a squat rack. The barbell was loaded with two thirty-five pound plates. One hundred and fifteen pounds. There was a squat cage against the far wall, no barbell. He walked right, around the corner and there was a door. He opened it and went into the living room. A big-screen TV was mounted to the left wall. It measured some twelve by twelve feet and a projector jutted down from the ceiling against the right wall. Two gray couches sat under it.

Ahead of him the doorway was open and the kitchen lay beyond. He swallowed, breathed deep, and walked through. He looked right. The door to her bedroom was open and he could see her. He went to it and closed it ajar, then flicked the lights on. The kitchen shone clean as he turned. There was a closed door at the left of the counter. He went to the refrigerator and all the ingredients of a balanced diet sat inside: eggs, milk, several twenty-four packs of gatorade, Yuengling beer, steaks, chicken breasts, bags of salad, garlic heads in the door, no condiments or dressings. Cassandra ate a paleo diet. He opened the freezer door and there were three ice cube trays and a tub of cookie dough ice cream inside. He opened the tub. It was about half-empty.

He turned back to the bedroom door, still closed, then took out the egg carton and set it on the counter. Jumbo. He took a pot from the rack to his left and set six eggs in it, filled it with water, and turned the front left burner on. He went back to the gym, took a fifty-five pound dumbbell from the rack, leaned over and did concentration curls, hefting it up with a little help from his back. Thirty reps for each arm. Then again.

He caught his breath, then hefted the dumbbell over his head with both hands and did French goblet presses, working his triceps. Twenty reps. He brought the dumbbell down in front of him, shook his arms out, then did thirty more reps of curls with each arm. He threw the weight overhead and did twenty more goblet presses.

Then he went back to the kitchen, turned the eggs off, dumped the water and filled the pot with cool. Once he'd peeled and eaten them, he washed them down with gatorade and returned to the gym.
He went around the room and did a quick circuit of his whole body. He had been in prison for a month with no access to weights, and so he had done calisthenics in that time, push-ups, sit-ups, and planks. His body was limbered up from this, but he still wasn't ready for a lot of heavy lifting. The bench press, two hundred pounds for twenty reps. A single set felt enough. Two hundred pound squats. Twenty reps. He could lift much heavier but he liked his ass small and tight. Then flys for his chest, back and shoulders.

He was done in thirty-five minutes. He had not broken a sweat. He looked at the treadmill a moment. Then walked out into the living room. There were two controllers on one of the couches. An Xbox X and the remote for the big-screen. He looked up and a double door was closed before him. He opened it and walked through. He felt around for the switch and flicked it. A large oval dining table stood in the center surrounded by twelve chairs. A silvery-gray tablecloth lay over it. No silverware. There was a large picture window in the far wall, some ten feet long and five feet high. He walked to it and cupped his hands around his eyes, but it was pitch black outside.

An upright piano stood to the window's right. He looked back to the doorway. There was a second door ahead of him, the kitchen counter door. He closed his eyes and rolled his head back, cracking his neck. He belched. Then smiled.

Then sat at the piano. He shifted the bench back some, shifted it forward a little, set his bare right foot on the sustain peddle.

_______________________________________

She opened her eyes. Piano music was playing. Late Romantic. Maybe Chopin or Schumann. Out of tune. It was her piano. She turned her head right. Flynn was gone. He had tucked her in warm. The clock said "7:17." She felt great. Not tired or washed out from cumming so much, but energetic. Wide awake. She smiled and sat up, stood out of bed and stretched down at her waist, her hamstrings, then up, her upper back, shoulders, arms over her head. She cracked her neck back and forth, then went to her dresser and took out a gold bra and green panties.

She followed the sound of music to her dining room. Flynn sat at the piano and finished the piece just as she leaned against the door sill with a smile. His muscles were gigantic, his waist narrow. He had just used her weights and he was by far the most impossibly gorgeous man on Earth. "That was beautiful," she said.

He turned and smiled back.

"What is it?"

"Your ringtone."

She raised her eyebrows. "Your kidding! What's it called?"

"Intermezzo in A, opus 118, number 2. By Johannes Brahms."

"Play it again!"

So Flynn played it again and she heard her ringtone. She grinned and sat in the dining chair at the head of the table. There was a flash. Thunder boomed outside and they both heard rain begin to pour. It was a sad piece of music, like something one might play at a funeral. When he finished, she waited a moment, then said, "Jesus! I didn't know you were so talented!"

He spun around, knees up, on the bench and said, "I majored in English. Minored in music. I was going to fill the minor out to a second Bachelor's, but decided to try to save people instead."

"Well, you're going to be very popular with my lady friends whenever they come over. How do you feel?"

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged with a grin. "I feel perfectly fine! I just worked out for a while. Hope you don't mind." She shook her head. "Nothing hurts. No fatigue that I can feel. I mean...if you wanna fuck, I can without any problem."

She chuckled. "After breakfast. You hear that?"

He sighed his eyes closed and said, "Yeah. I love the sound of rain."

"Me, too! And you're going to help me cross something off my bucket list!"

"What?"

"Fucking in a violent thunderstorm!" They smiled and she stood. "How does a traditional English breakfast sound?"

"I just ate six eggs, but sure. What's in it?"

"Well, scrambled eggs on sourdough, but if you don't want any more eggs..."

"No, no. Sounds good. I can eat."

He followed her into the kitchen, sat and watched. She set thick sourdough slices in the toaster, got the coffee maker going, then brought a pan to sizzling with olive oil, set four large mushrooms and two vines of tomatoes in to roast, then began whipping a dozen eggs with butter in a large pot. On the heat, off the heat, on the heat, off, always whipping. She stirred in a spoonful of creme fraiche, salt and pepper, then chopped chives. She arranged it all very neatly on two plates and handed him his with a smile. "Wow! You're a pro chef!"

"Nah. I watch videos." They sat at the counter and ate while the storm whirled its fury outside. Dim light came through the windows. He finished and said, "That was delicious! Thank you!"

"Mm-hmm." She tossed the vines in the trash and rinsed the plates. They sat and drank coffee, looking at each other, looking outside. "After today," she said, "We're going to play orgasm denial." She smiled. He didn't look worried. "I'll cum all I want every day, but you don't get to. I'll keep you from it by pain." He looked a little worried. "We'll go for two weeks. I wanna see just how much cum you can build up after two weeks of fucking for hours a day." He smiled a little. "Then I'll let you cum and give you the day off from ballbusting."

He shook his head. "I don't know what the upper limit is. I don't even know if there is one! For my seminal vesicles. But if they're just going to keep expanding until there's no more room in the bottom of my abdominal cavity, it's possible I could build up a gallon of cum. I don't know."

She opened her mouth and shook her head with a grin. "If I jerk you off into a bucket outside and it measures a fucking gallon, I - I don't know how I'm gonna reward you, but I'll fucking think of something, honey!"

He held up his hands. "I'm not calling it! I - I have no idea!"

She finished her coffee, sighed and cracked her neck around. She belched. "You ready?" He grinned and nodded. She stood and walked to the front door. He stood and pulled his sweat pants and boxer-briefs down to his ankles, stepped out of them and stood tall for her. She smiled and brought down her panties, unclasped her bra, tossed it aside and opened the door. He felt the wind of the storm blow in and she walked out into it.

He followed. The willow branches lashed and whipped in the wind. It was maybe eighty degrees and the rain cooled them but not too much. It was a perfect rainforest for fucking. They both loved the smell of rain. There was nothing sharp in the grass as he followed her to a hammock strung waist-high between two weeping willows about forty yards apart. Her ass sashayed so beautifully that his cock was standing straight up in ten seconds. She tossed her head back and smoothed her hair behind her. The hammock was large and square, the same size as the one in the shower and she hopped around on her back into it and shifted up to the center. He smiled and climbed on then kneeled at her feet, cock throbbing against his abs, balls swinging a good five inches beneath him, brushing the ropes. "What position?" he called over the wind and roar of the rain.

"I want a nice deep fuck! Missionary! Keep it buried to the hilt and just give me the last several inches!" She grinned and spread her legs.

"I can fuck you even deeper if you let me put my legs outside yours!" He spread his knees wider than her hips and she smiled and brought her massive thighs together, locked her knees and he watched her quadriceps ripple gloriously. He settled over her, the insides of his knees against her hips, raised his ass high and set the tip of his cock against her pussy lips. He looked up with a grin and said, "Ready?"

She lay back and closed her eyes to the rain, her nipples colossal, the rain pooling down her cleavage. "Pound it in, baby! Don't be afraid!"

He grinned wider and thrust hard. Her body flexed like a board as his cock plunged all the way to the hilt, stretching her four inches wide and popping two inches through her cervix. He lay forward over and her body undulated in steady waves as an orgasm rocked all over her. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his giant back and he reached through the hammock, hugged her warm and tight around, pulled four inches out and thrust it back in, not as hard as he could. He started fucking her out and in, two thrusts a second and she gasped and squirmed under him. Her knees shivered apart and his balls dropped between them as a delicious purr of ecstasy flooded her throughout. Her fluttery squeal yelped up in cute, falsetto gasps into a wavering howl as the storm whipcracked around. The willow branches lashed his back, his ass, their legs. She flexed her legs straight together and he moaned a chuckle as her warm thighs massaged his balls between them.

He fucked faster as the rain stung him cold all over. Her pussy was squeezing his cock for all it was worth and he rolled his eyes shut and nestled his head against her neck, jaw to jaw, and pounded the last four or five inches of his cock deep into her, plopping her cervix two inches wide with each thrust. She yelped her mouth wide open in a smile and lightning flashed them bright white. She swallowed rain water and held him tight, writhing her feet together as the ecstasy rose and rose. "Your balls are so fucking huge!!!" she screamed. "God, I fucking love the way they feel!!!"

He responded by picking up the face, fucking five inches of four-inch-thick dick to the hilt, four thrusts in per second and her gasps hastened, deepened as the euphoria now began to overwhelm her. Her eyes rolled back and she crossed her ankles, scratching her nails into his back. Her pussy was slurping so loudly they could both hear it and he laughed as he could feel the soupy slosh hot inside her, welling fast up his shaft. He felt a little spurt against his sack and lifted his head to see her. "Here it comes, honey!! Hold on tight!!"

Her face contorted her smile at him as the euphoria took over her body and he sped up some more just as her orgasm sang to life. Her legs shot out straight and locked at her knees, ankles crossed. her ass flexed in a deep ripple and Flynn suddenly howled up a groan to the flashing sky as her thighs squeezed his balls from goose eggs to pancakes. The pain was instantly intolerable and his heart leaped into his throat as he realized she wasn't doing it on purpose. He was giving her the best orgasm she'd ever felt and her legs had to squeeze as hard as they could. His howling groan rose in rapid gasps to a keening wail as his balls were crushed down to one-third their normal girth. He tried to keep fucking, but fifteen seconds later he was overwhelmed with equal agony in his balls and misery in his belly and his body became paralyzed, his cock buried to a meaty smack inside her, plopped fat through her cervix and cum erupted from her pussy in a scalding geyser between them, spraying like a firehose across both their asses, down her legs, up their torsos and splashing hot over their faces.

Flynn whimpered loud whines, unable to speak but trying to tell her to relax her legs. Nausea began rising from his spermatic plexus as the rain poured cool over both of them. He couldn't fuck, but the pain was so terrifyingly intense his body started vibrating with it as she hugged him tight around. Her nails had drawn blood but he couldn't feel them. His vibrations caused his pelvis to grind perfectly against her clit and she gasped her eyes wide open with a huge smile, started bucking and thrashing under him like a horse and the sheet of cum sprayed harder. He started screaming as loudly as she, and their voices caught harmony with a perfect triad of F and A.

Lightning. The thunder blasted immediately and their ears rang. There was an orange glow ahead in the forest and he saw a tree split open to the ground. The inside was burning coals. His vision was starring over as he belched and belched. He started heaving and lolled over to his right, his face against the hammock just over her deltoid, and he retched a hard fold of his body atop her. Vomit splattered the grass beneath as her scream descended from a single piercing A down into a fluttering arpeggio. Her cum died down to several thick spurts and she shuddered her legs open. Flynn instantly popped off her and gasped and moaned, "Hhhhooohhhh!!!!" writhing with quaking shivers on his right side. He curled into the fetal position and he clamped his wrists between his thighs as his hands shot behind them and cradled his balls.

He spat dribbles of vomit and heaved again, a loud growling groan of stomach acid. Then he whimpered up a grimace as the agony and misery seethed all over him. His body hair stood on end despite the rain and he wallowed onto his left side, wallowed back, flopping over and over as she panted on her back beside him and her body enjoyed its final thirty seconds of waving shivers. Her pussy lips were quivering with tight, irregular clenches and she gripped the ropes with both fists. Her legs writhed up and down, wide and shut as her orgasm slowly subsided.

Then she opened her eyes and gulped a whole mouthful of rain she had collected. She turned her head. And she burst into bright laughter as Flynn shook in heavy, rocking convulsions, eyes tight but open, a grimace of overwhelming anguish, flailing his legs in every direction, knees wide and hands cupped around his gigantic balls. His cock was quickly softening.

She kept laughing as she rolled over and hugged him to her, burying his face against her right breast. She stroked her right hand over his back and laughed in great heaves as he wallowed in agony. His cock fell completely limp and flopped over his right thigh.

Five minutes later he had slowly relaxed into panting moans and tentatively released his balls. He wanted the cool rainwater on them and it felt blessedly delicious. All the while she stroked his back. The pain had become tolerable and he moaned slower, slower as the storm raged around them. She sighed and tilted her head back. A tree was split open and burning about a hundred and fifty yards into the woods.

"I threw up." His voice wavered low. He belched and pulled away from her. She let him and he spat, spat again, then wiped the slime from his mouth.

"Fuck yeah!" she moaned. She slid under him and pulled him over so his back lay heavy up her abs, his head between her boobs. She mashed them warm against his cheeks and he felt her voice rumble through him as she purred, "You just taught me my new favorite sex position, Flynn!"

Flynn had not cum and would not for sixteen days.