Chapter 2: Hack Job

I return into Town and approach the Mellark Bakery that very evening. The streets are deserted, with most families indoors for their dinner meal. Good. I don't want to make a scene in front of the neighbors.

Approaching via the alley leading to the back loading dock, where I often trade squirrels with Peeta's father, the Baker, I angrily and with purpose rap on the door. I hope against hope that his mother does not answer. The Baker's wife is a Witch and is rumored to be abusive towards her family. Whenever she and I have interacted, we have never gotten along.

Thankfully, the young man who I want to see answers. He blinks in surprise when he sees me, and appears even more weary once he judges how angry I look.

"Good evening, Katniss..."

"Do you want me?" I demand, getting right to the point.

His impossibly blue eyes annoyingly blink. I am steamed at how he already dares to act so innocent. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to fuck me?"

Peeta nearly chokes on his tongue. "Katniss!"

"Don't play naive! I saw you! I heard you! Crying out my name in the Slag Heap while jerking on your... thing!" I spit, flustered at being unable to say the actual offending word.

Peeta has the good sense to look terrified. He has been found out, and he knows it, too. "Katniss..." he tries to begin, closing his mouth to gather his thoughts before opening it again. "Yes, Katniss. I love you."

I shake my head, my lips in a tight frown. "That's not what I asked." I step forward menacingly. "Do. You. Want. Me? To fuck?"

"I want you and I love you!" Peeta confesses, and for a moment, I wonder how long he has been wanting to say those words to me. I shake my head to clear it.

"No, you don't. You don't love me." He can't love me, I think. I won't let him! It is my greatest fear: to love someone and be loved in return, especially in a romantic sense. "You're just all hot for me because I look like I could give you a good, hard screw! All Town boys want that. A man has needs." I am not so gullible and innocent as others make me out to be, Gale in particular. He has always teased me for being too pure.

Peeta looks furtively about the alleyway. He mumbles something about how thank goodness his parents are not here right now - at least, I think that's what he says. All the same, he hisses low as he pleads, "I am not like those other boys, Katniss! I want to be with you! In every way!"

I have had just about enough of his lies. "Pull your pants down," I order.

He gapes at me, not moving. I sigh, twirling a finger in the air to prompt. "Turn around." Slowly, he obeys, and begins to undo his belt and buttons. He throws it all down, and I briefly note how he wears boxers before he literally flashes me. Now, I have seen what a man's bare ass looks like. Wrapping my arms about him from behind, I grasp his rapidly swelling manhood in a vice-like grip and hiss in his ear:

"When I'm through with you, you'll never want me again!" And then I begin to stroke him.

It takes me a minute to get a firm grip around his girth, but once I do, I manage to stroke and rub and squeeze him without his member fumbling away from me. From over his shoulder, I watch my fingers run deftly up and down his shaft, the foreskin sliding up and down over the reddened head. I barely note how Peeta has leaned back into my body with each passing fondle, his eyes wide as saucers, his breath coming in moans and labored pants.

"Fuck, Katniss! Touch me! Just like that!" His legs begin to tremble, the backs of his thighs knocking against my knees.

With each passing second, I find my anger beginning to melt away. What takes its place instead is a strange yearning. To my surprise, I discover that I don't just want this from Peeta. I want something else from him too. As he leans back into me, I sag into him. My center - which I am startled to find has suddenly flooded with wet dampness, staining my underwear - grinds into his bare buttocks. My breasts jiggle and hump and slide along his back. My head lolling to one side, my eyes flutter shut and my mouth falls into a wide 'O', as I rub my entire body up against his. I am stimulating myself with his body.

Peeta's entire frame suddenly seizes against me. "KATNISS!" I feel a sticky coat of... substance paint my palm, as Peeta ejaculates, cums all over my hand and himself. His hard stalk gradually droops, becoming soft and pliant once more. Releasing him, I audaciously lick my fingers clean. Then, cupping Peeta's cheek, I turn his face to mine and gallingly devour his lips in a brazen, fiery kiss. I want him to taste himself on my tongue.

After a long moment, I break away. Forgetting myself, my goals and why I came here in the first place, I suddenly hike up my skirts, the hem of my blue dress. I force Peeta to his knees, and shimmy my panties down to my ankles, so he is eye-level with the hairy curls of my wet folds.

"I want you to taste me," I gasp. "Touch me. Please."

There is a moment where there is nothing, just the cool evening wind tickling my exposed folds. But then -

I gasp, yelp airily as I feel Peeta take my clit and nub into his mouth. He quickly proves himself a natural at knowing just what I like, where I want him to eat me. The bundle of nerves comes to life, alights, under his lips, and I buck and thrust my pelvis out with every nibble, slapping his face with my slick vagina. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and my jaw goes slack in amazement, as I moan like a Capitol whore. Adoring how it feels to have his mouth on me. Admitting how, once or twice when I have touched myself in my bed at night, that I have imagined him and his tongue doing this to me. Pleasuring me.

"Ummmm... Hmmmmm... Mmmmmm... UHHHHH! OHHHHH! Oh... oh my goodness... oh please... fuck, fuck, motherfucker! YES!"

My spread knees, my legs, wobble almost as violently as Peeta's did moments ago. I stiffen as I cry out, "PEETA!" and blast my juices all over his face. He delicately and patiently laps up every last drop of what I give him, licking down even the inside of my thighs, my thighs which now feel like jelly.

Slowly, Peeta rises, smiling in astonished admiration. "What a dirty little mouth you have!" he marvels. "I might just have to kiss it off!" And he does before I can object, his tongue parting my lips and slipping down my throat. I purr in approval as I dare to kiss him back. "Hmmmm..."

When we break the kiss at last, I only then realize how Peeta's pants are still comically pooled around his feet. Wordlessly, I redress him, looking almost contemplatively as I tuck his shirt back into his pants.

"Next time, let's give each other a warning beforehand."

Peeta gazes in wonder at me. "Next time...?"

I raise my eyes to his. "Next time we do this," I say flatly, my expression serious and practical and no-nonsense. "You'll know when it happens." I dare to peck his lips goodbye. "Thank you," I breathe almost stupidly. Then, I turn and flee out of the alleyway for home, ignoring the sheen of blood dripping down my calves and straining the dirt.

I just had my first experience of oral sex! And I... liked it! I find myself wondering, with a small smile, how much Peeta likes anal.