Chapter 3: Pride Before the Fall
Beth stood trapped in the current of the moment, her wrist still burning where Jeremy held her. The sounds of Liam’s enthusiastic sucking filled the space, a wet, rhythmic counterpoint to her own ragged breathing. She was supposed to be grabbing her jacket and leaving. That was the plan. A simple in-and-out mission into Sally’s normally predictable world. But this was a different planet.
“See?” Liam said, pulling off Jeremy’s cock with a slick pop. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes glittering as he looked at Beth. “It’s not so complicated. You just open up and take it.”
Jeremy’s grip on her wrist tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor her to the spot. “Looks like she’s thinking about it,” he said, his voice a low rumble.
Beth’s face flushed hotter. She was thinking about it. The image was seared into her mind: the powerful flex of Jeremy’s hips, the utterly surrendered look on Liam’s face. It was crude, obscene, and it made a long-dormant pulse throb between her legs. Her sex life had been a series of polite, predictable encounters under covers in the dark. This was raw daylight.
“I… I don’t…” she stammered, but the protest died in her throat.
“You don’t what?” Liam taunted, climbing to his feet. He moved behind her, his presence a new heat against her back. “Don’t know how? It’s easy. Just get on your knees.”
His hands landed on her shoulders, applying gentle, undeniable pressure. Beth’s legs gave way as if the bones had vanished. She sank to the worn rug, the coarse fibers scratching her knees through her pantyhose. She was now eye-level with Jeremy’s erection, which glistened with Liam’s saliva, thick and veined and intimidating.
“Go on, Beth,” Jeremy said, his tone challenging, almost daring her. “Show us what’s under that perfect little suit.”
A tremor ran through her. This was madness. But the judgmental part of her, the part that would normally be screeching about impropriety, was silent, smothered by a surge of pure, wanton curiosity. Slowly, hesitantly, she leaned forward.
The first touch of her lips to his skin was electric. He was hot and smelled intensely male, of sweat and sex and salt. She opened her mouth, taking just the head inside. It was too big. She felt her jaw strain.
“That’s it,” Jeremy encouraged, his hand moving to cradle the back of her head. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the crude command in his voice. “Now just relax your throat.”
She tried, but when he pushed forward, her body rebelled. She gagged, pulling back sharply, strings of saliva connecting her lips to him. Humiliation burned her cheeks.
Liam chuckled behind her. “Uh oh. Gag reflex. Guess you’re not as experienced as you pretend to be, are you, Beth?” His words were a light cruelty, designed to provoke. “Thought you said you were a good girl who follows instructions.”
“Shut up,” she mumbled, the defiance weak.
“Then prove it,” Jeremy said, his fingers threading into her blond hair. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”
He guided her head forward again. This time, he didn’t let her retreat. As she took him deeper, he held her there, his hips shifting to meet her. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and her body convulsed. Tears sprang to her eyes as she gagged violently, her hands flying up to grip his thighs for balance.
“Breathe through your nose,” Liam instructed from behind, his voice calm, clinical. “You’re fighting it. Let it in.”
Jeremy eased back, letting her gasp for air. Her mascara was starting to run, leaving hot, black tracks down her cheeks. She felt exposed, degraded, and more alive than she had in years.
“Again,” Jeremy commanded, and this time there was no gentleness in the guidance. His hand fisted in her hair and he pulled her onto him, fucking her mouth in earnest. Beth squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming freely now, as she focused on the impossible task of swallowing him. The gagging was constant, a harsh, ugly sound she barely recognized as her own. Each time she choked, a strange, dark thrill shot through her—a complete surrender of control.
She could hear Liam’s low, approving murmurs. “There you go. Taking it all like a good slut.”
The filthy word, meant to shame, had the opposite effect. It uncorked something inside her. Her own hands, which had been pushing weakly against Jeremy’s legs, now crept up to hold his hips, pulling him deeper. She leaned into the violation, embracing the choking, the tears, the mess of it.
Jeremy groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure pleasure. “Fuck, Beth. That’s it. You’re a natural.”
His approval was a bolt of lightning. She redoubled her efforts, her world narrowing to the salt-slick taste of him, the feel of him thrusting against her throat, the sounds of her own submission. The pristine real estate agent was gone, shattered on the floor alongside Sally’s discarded clothes. What was left was something raw, and hungry, and utterly new.
Jeremy’s breathing became ragged, his thrusts more erratic. “I’m gonna come,” he grunted, his hand holding her head firmly in place.
Beth’s eyes flew open in panic, but it was too late. He pushed deep and held, and she felt the hot, sudden pulse flood the back of her throat. She gagged, swallowing reflexively, the bitter taste a final, shocking seal on her transformation.
When he finally released her, she collapsed forward, coughing, her body shuddering. She wiped her mouth with a trembling hand, smearing mascara and spit across her face. She expected to feel shame. Instead, she felt a power, fierce and bright. She had done it. She had crossed the line.
Liam offered her a hand up, his earlier mockery replaced by a look of genuine respect. “Not so plain after all,” he said with a wink.
Jeremy, still catching his breath, looked down at her with a dark, satisfied smile. “Welcome to the party, Beth.”