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View From a Bridge

by | flash fiction | 0 comments

The French called it l’appel du vide. The call of the void. Becky always felt it.

When they started their midnight walk, she didn’t know they would end up at the bridge, but it made sense. Adam was the kind of guy who used everything you told him against you at some point, and she had mentioned something about her fear. About the call.

He stopped halfway across the bridge and kissed her. She melted into his arms the way she always did. He kissed her long and deeply, the way he rarely did. It felt intimate, which let her know he was going to do something really bad to her.

He turned her so that she faced out to the river. The cold steel rail against her belly. The wind whipped her skirt.

It was pitch black out. No cars coming. There was just a sliver of a moon out that night. The fear made her hands cold, or was it the wind?

He pulled down her panties, and they caught at her knees. His hand was in her hair, and he pushed her forward so that all she saw was the black water below.

She could see rocks down there, little white crashing water where the waves hit them.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest. Her hands went to the rail, but he pulled them away. He held them behind her back with one hand as he rubbed her cunt with the other.

“You be a good girl, and I won’t let you fall,” he whispered into her ear.

It was stupid. He would never do it. Yet her body didn’t seem to know that. The fear grew until it her consumed her brain. He might do it. He might get carried away. All he would have to do was push her the wrong way.

His cock felt scalding hot in the cold night air. How had she gotten so wet? He had one of her arms in each of his hands as he fucked her against the rail, lifting her a little, pushing her forward a little.

Her eyes stung in the wind, but she couldn’t close them. He was fucking her hard and pressing her against that rail, which was the only thing keeping her from falling. How much weight could that safety rail hold? He was fucking her so hard. She heard little squeaks of the metal. Her feet left the floor as he fucked her, and she moved a little farther over the railing.

He grunted as he pounded into her. His cock felt thicker than usual. It all felt more intense.

“After I come inside of you, I won’t need you anymore,” he said as he fucked her.

“I’m so close, and then bye-bye Becky,” he laughed.

It was stupid. Why was she crying? He wouldn’t.

He made that sound, that hoarse groan, and she felt him come inside of her. The forbidden secret little thing that they allowed themselves to share. Knowing he was shooting his come inside of her always made her come too. She felt her legs shake as her orgasm started.

Then her feet were fully off the ground. Her belly slipping against the metal. The world was all motion and cold, even though it was impossible. She tried to grab onto something as she screamed.

Then she was on the floor. The cold walkway of the bridge as he laughed and laughed. The cold cement on her ass and the come leaking from her cunt and the embarrassment of believing it.

She cried and cried, and he knelt down next to her and held her. He kissed her forehead and promised her hot chocolate and a bath, and she pouted but forgave him.

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