I back the car up my driveway. The whole street's quiet since it's a week-night. I park it just outside the garage door, and flip on the cabin light. I look at Annie, sitting demurely in the passenger seat, the Goth make-up looks very natural on her as if she's been doing it for ages. I click open the seatbelt and let it whiz back into its place. I lean sideways to take my second taste of her lips and tongue, they are still a little cold from the drinks we had at The Pink, the local lesbian watering hole. The kiss is just as intoxicating as the first one I stole from her in the bar's restroom; it has a mysterious metallic hint to it. It robs my breath away.
We get out of the car and I lock it. She's waiting for me by the front door even though it's open. Maybe she thinks it's going a little too fast. I hope that she's not having second thoughts about this. It's been a while since I actually brought someone home with me, and I don't want to scare her away by being a little too insistent. She was fun to converse with back at the bar, I enjoyed listening to the stories of Kings and Queens through the ages. The way she said it, you'd believe that she was actually there when it all happened. But seeing her all quiet and reserved now doesn't fill me with much hope.
I invite her in, hoping that she'd accept and not ask me take her back. She steps inside. My heart skips several beats and the flutter I felt in my stomach, back at the bar when I first approached her, is back again. I guide her into the living room and take her leather jacket and hang it along with my own coat on the hanger. I ask her to sit and wait a, while I go fetch some more drinks from the kitchen. It should loosen her up a little. I whip up a small batch of Bloody Mary and pour it into two glasses.
I head back to the living room. She's flipping through this month's Reader's Digest. I hand her a glass and settle down beside her.
"You were telling me about King Edward," I remind her.
She takes a sip from her glass and sets it down on the Ottoman before she answers. "What more can I say? He wasn't like the other nobs; he didn't mind what colour his lovers were."
I laugh and move closer to her, my hand brush against her bare arm. Her pale skin is cold.
"Do you want me to crank up the temperature a little."
"Nah. It's all right," she says, and rakes a hand through my loose hair, pulling me into a kiss. It's slow and sensual, her lips hold my tongue hostage while she uses her tongue to tease mine. I lift her legs and lay them over my lap, closing the gap between us even further. For someone so frail looking she sure has a strong embrace.
I rub her back through her t-shirt, it elicits a moan from her, and it signals a need. I break the kiss and rest my forehead on hers. I smile, feeling a little giddy and slightly breathless. She's calm, but her pupils are dilated, they betray her excitement.
I lift her t-shirt, all the while looking at her for any objection. None comes. I pull it over her head and she assists by rising her arms. She's wearing a black bra, it makes her skin look even paler, even sexier. Heat courses through my body, and it melts my cunt.
She feels wonderfully cool and soft and smooth, her body saps all the heat mine radiates. I nuzzle her delicate neck, just above the velvet choker she's wearing and I'm rewarded with a purr. I picture her beneath me in my bed, with nothing on but that choker; my urgency builds.
I slip my legs from underneath hers and get up, intent on taking the action to the comfort of my bed. I tug her arm but she pulls me back onto to the sofa, and swiftly straddles me, pinning my hands above my head. Once again that beguiling strength manifests itself.
She plunders my lips as if starved. I return her fervour. She let's go of my hands and cups my face, intensifying the kiss, crushing my lips. I am too far gone. All I can do is hold on to her as she sets the pace.
She paints my face with kisses and licks. I lift my hips a little to meet her pelvis with mine. I buck and grind. It's not enough.
She moves down to my neck. I tilt my head to give her better access. She pays attention to every inch of me skin there, sucking and licking. I soak through my panties and my clit throbs. I manage to get a leg over hers and I start tribbing.
I rock on the sofa, my eyes are half lidded, dazed by such intense foreplay. I'm getting off grinding my crotch against hers. But she stills my crazed movements. I'm panting. She draws my gaze to hers. Pure hunger. She needs me. She needs me bad.
It happens in a blur, one second we are locked in gaze and the next she's at my neck again. I hiss at the sharp sting that follows. Something hot trickles down my neck, but I am too tired and sleepy. She's soothing me with one hand, running it up and down my hair. I sink further into the darkness. It doesn't sting any more.
*~*~*
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