The Kisser

by Liv Kingstown

  I get my feet in first position, bending at the waist to stretch out my back and my legs. I let my arms hang, loosening them up. Spreading my feet to second position, I bend with an arch rolling my full front torso around in wide circles to remove any tension from my rib cage while rolling my ankles to warm them. I hear the camera fire off a few times and when I come up, I see Rerun has an awkward grin on her face. I’ve never seen this look on her before. She looks dumbfounded.

  Is she laughing at me? I check myself but I don’t see anything wrong.

  “What are you grinning about?” I ask.

  She bats her eyes. “I’ve never seen you dance before. Not in real life. I can understand why people pay so much to see you. You’re even more amazing than I thought. That was beautiful.”

  “Ree, I haven’t even started yet,” I chortle. “I’m just warming up.”

  “Oh,” she gasps with reddening cheeks.

  11

  Rerun

  “Would you like to try? C’mere. Do a little warm up with me.” He puts out his hand.

  Immediately, I grip my cane tighter and squat down to plant my butt on the floor. “I’d prefer to sit and watch and snap pictures if you don’t mind.”

  “All right,” he nods, seemingly disappointed. “I’ll start with a few turns.”

  “Great.” I get my camera ready, putting my eye to the little square viewfinder.

  Beyond the camera, Taylor begins to spin. The air around me also begins to move and I pull the camera away from my face to get a better look. He’s so focused, unaware I’m ogling. One of his legs goes in and out as he also bobs straight up and down on the ball of one foot, building momentum. Faster and faster he goes, every muscle in his body tightening to center the storm he is creating. Like a whirlwind, he spins and, just when I think he is about to break from the centrifugal force he’s created, he twirls even faster until he’s in the air!

  Up he goes! Swinging his leg to help propel him high up towards the ceiling, defying gravity.

  My heart soars with him but my mind is stuck on earth, wondering briefly what it must be like up there—the place where only the beautiful reside.

  I snap a pic.

  Coming down, he unexpectedly lands softly. Like an angel with wings unseen, he floats back to earth with a gentle roll of his toes until his heels finally plant flat.

  “Did you get anything good from that angle?” he questions, coming towards me.

  I glance at the one picture I shot and it’s a closeup of his crotch! Quickly, I turn off the camera.

  “I think my battery is dead.” I put the camera behind my back.

  “Really? Let me see,” he demands, reaching, bending over me, allowing his bulge to bump me in the face.

  Of course, I’m caught off guard and he manages to take the camera, turning it on.

  He laughs, sitting next to me. “I must say that’s the best pic I’ve yet to see of myself. I’m sure that one is going to get a lot of likes.”

  He snaps a picture.

  Of me!

  “Don’t.” My jaw tenses.

  “Smile for me, Ree.” He snaps another and another, standing up.

  “Taylor, stop. I don’t like having my picture taken.” I reach up. I’m on my knees, clawing at him, begging.

  He snaps another pic from directly above and looks at it. “Jesus, girl. You’re beautiful.” He pulls me up. “Look at how beautiful you are.” He shows me the image. “See?”

  I don’t see anything. Just the camera and I try to snatch it back.

  “Nooooope,” he slurs, helping me up but keeping the camera from me.

  “Give it back, Taylor.”

  “I will,” he says, walking away, leaving me to balance on one foot. He props the camera on top of a stereo system in the corner. “I’ll give it back as soon as you...”

  He messes with a few stereo buttons and music plays.

  “Dance with me,” he says, turning in my direction and coming over.

  “Taylor.” I play coy as he approaches.

  He reaches and scrolls his hands gently from my shoulders down my arms.

  “You know I can’t dan—holy shit!” I yelp as he picks me up by the hips and lifts, tossing me straight up a few feet where I land with my thighs against his chest.

  He wraps his arms tight around the back of my legs and squeezes then sways.

  “Let go, Ree,” he says. “That hurts.”

  I realize my fingers are entangled in his hair. I’m gripping his short chocolate locks so tensely, I’m sure I’m about to scalp him.

  I loosen my grip, but I don’t let go. “Will you put me down?”

  “How does it feel up there?” His eyes are huge glowering up at me.

  I look around at the height at which I’m at and look back into his eyes. “Scary.”

  “Let go,” he says, lifting me so I’m even further up against his front. “I’m going to push you higher.”

  “No,” I wiggle to get loose.

  “Ree, you can’t do that,” he says. “You have to trust me. We’ll both get hurt if you don’t trust me. Just let go. I got you.”

  “Taylor—WAH!” I’m elevated.

  By my hips, I’m pushed as high as he can balance me and I’m clinging for dear life to his wrists. He spins and my legs fly out a little. It makes my heart race as I worry that he’s going to drop me at any minute but the feeling is...

  Fun?

  “Rerun, put your arms out,” he says. “Lift your legs and let go.”

  “Taylor, I’m scared.”

  “Baby, you have nothing to be afraid of. I’m a professional, remember?”

  I swallow, putting my legs up and my arms out and I can’t believe it! I wouldn’t exactly call this dancing because I feel like I’m flying. I’m actually soaring!

  He walks me around the room and I understand why dancers hurt themselves to get in this position. I feel so alive up here.

  “Are you ready to come down?” he asks and I’m afraid that I’ve been greedy, allowing him to keep me elevated for so long.

  “Yeah,” I say and I scream!

  Without warning, I’m falling.

  Right. Into. His. Arms.

  He dips me—low—and I smack his chest.

  “Ow,” he laughs. “Was that too much for a first time?”

  “You could’ve dropped me!”

  “I would never drop you,” he says. “Not unless it was on purpose. Like this.” He let’s go.

  Butterflies flap in my belly but stop almost instantly as my back hits the mat under me.

  “Taylorrrrr,” I growl.

  I want to smack him again except that I can’t. He’s too close. He’s poised himself in a plank, hovering horizontally not more than one inch above my body.

  I hate that he can move so quickly. I hate that he—

  He kisses me.

  Fire ignites in the small space between us, but it is quickly extinguished by his body closing the space, removing the oxygen that was once there as well as in my lungs.

  I can’t breathe, he’s kissing me so hard. Not to mention, the excitement of once being propped free but now caged by Taylor Rose is making it difficult to maintain any control of my senses.

  I turn my head away, gasping to regain some composure. He bites my chin and then my jaw, my neck and then my collarbone. He grabs my breast and I’m fairly confident he’s about to bite that, too.

  “Taylor,” I pull at his hair.

  He fights against my grasp to kiss me again and I let him. Our teeth clash together this time, which doesn’t stop him. Plunging his tongue into my mouth, he swirls the tip with mine before he deepens our kiss and withdraws.

  “I like you, Rerun.” His breath is hot and heavy. Heavier than it was after he spun in circles and marched me around the room.

  He lifts the hem of my dress, pulling it up to my waist and he squeezes his hand under my back to run his fingers under my panties and grab my ass. “Baby, I want you.”

 
I realize I’m spread open. My legs are on opposite sides of his torso and he’s rocking his hips. Skillfully, he glides the length of his thick erection up and down along the crevice of my slit. My panty is the only thing that separates his cock from my clit and the friction is becoming smoother as the fabric begins to soak while his rocking becomes rougher.

  Taylor pokes the heated head of his cock at the entrance of my cave and he groans, blocked by the thin wall of wet cotton.

  His face comes into view, hovering over mine. “You’re not going to let me in tonight, are you?”

  I shake my head—no. No matter how good he feels or how bad my body wants him—needs him—he doesn’t need me. He doesn’t need this. He’s beautiful. One of the beautiful people and I’m...

  Not.

  “No-no-no-no-no-no, Rerun. Don’t get tense.” Taylor locks eyes with me. “We can just kiss if that’s all you want to do.” He kisses me. Sweetly. And smears the sweat off my brow. “Are you okay with that?”

  I nod and he smiles with relief, swooping in to kiss my neck. His tongue trails up and down between sweet little puckers and soft sucks.

  “So, this is okay, right?” he asks gently.

  I nod again and his lips move to the upper cushion of my breast.

  “I like kissing you,” he says with a lick and, although it’s more than a kiss, I let him lick me again. He licks right down to the trim of my dress where his tongue digs under the rayon cloth and my bra to find my nipple.

  “Just a kiss,” I say as my breasts perk upward into his mouth.

  “That’s what we’re doing,” he says. “We’re just kissing.” But he’s sucking. Somehow, he’s maneuvered his tongue to fold my dress down, allowing his mouth to cover my areola and suck.

  My hips buck up against him with each little tease of seduction.

  “You like that?” he whispers huskily, wedging his shaft along the length of my folds, he grinds against the fabric over my clit.

  I reluctantly nod with a hiss. I’m embarrassed to tell him that I do like the feeling of his lips enclosed over the tips of my breasts while his tongue laps me raw.

  One little loveable shock after another shoots straight from my nipple down to my crease where I fear my little nub has not only become swollen but is throbbing with need. I feel a shameful urge to want to rub myself down there, but instead, I bite my fingers between my teeth.

  Taylor does a bit of a push-up to position himself—his cock—more firmly against the apex of my sex and he begins to roll. Up and down, I feel him rock and I glance to where our groins touch to see his abs twitch and flex.

  Jeez, he’s working so hard just to make me...

  “Oh, fuck,” escapes my mouth from the tickle of ecstasy rising between my legs.

  “You gonna come, baby?” Taylor yanks at the opposite side of my dress exposing my other tit to him and he pinches my nipple with a tight roll between his fingers.

  The pinching.

  The sucking.

  The rolling.

  The rubbing.

  I stiffen. He groans.

  I come and moan.

  “Mmm,” he hums, keeping his mouth on my nipple between his teeth as I climax.

  My body convulses and I’m desperate to keep our friction going. I feel so high. Higher than I was moments ago, floating in the air supported by nothing but Taylor’s strength, and I’m so not ready to come down yet.

  Thankfully, Taylor’s fingers find my blood-swollen nub under my underwear, and he circles with a firm press of his fingers to support my orgasm, keeping it afloat until I flutter back down to earth.

  He makes eye contact with me, sucking his fingers into his mouth, and he gets his fingers wetter. He smears the wetness on the insides of each of my breasts.

  Maneuvering himself to straddle me, over my ribcage, Taylor pushes his briefs down to let his long, thick, hard cock spring out. He bounces his tip on my sternum before he guides my hands to cup my breast mounds and push them together, trapping his shaft.

  He moves.

  Back and forth he works his abs, thighs, and ass to fuck between my breasts.

  “Is this okay?” he asks, reaching to stroke my hair.

  “Yeah,” I say without trying to sound too eager, because it’s totally okay! I have the most perfect view of him. He’s unbelievably gorgeous.

  “Squeeze your tits tighter together.”

  I do as he says.

  “Lace your fingers over my cock.”

  I do that, too.

  He speeds up the pace at which he is pumping his shaft along my chest. From this distance, I can smell his sex and the scent is getting stronger.

  “Stick out your tongue, Rerun.”

  I gulp. He wants me to do what?

  “Baby, open your mouth and stick out your tongue. I’m going to come.”

  I clench my mouth shut. I’m reluctant to let him blow his load in my mouth. I’ve never done anything like it before but I know what it entails and I’m not sure that I’m ready to let him do that. Hell, I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d ever get this far.

  With anyone!

  And it’s likely we’ll never get to this point again, since I’m sure he’ll be upset that I won’t open for him.

  But he doesn’t seem angry. He chuckles to himself instead as he pulls my hands away and fists himself to finish, blowing all over my chest, up to my neck, and getting a little on my cheek.

  Sweeping the last drop off his tip on my tit, he settles back and rakes his hands through his hair. He studies me with a prideful grin and I suddenly feel extremely naked.

  I peep down at the web of his milky mess. My mounds, still perky, have never been so red or covered in such... stuff. I try to get up.

  “Whoa, relax.” He tucks himself back into his briefs. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”

  Laying my head back, I look about the room, wondering what the hell just happened. Taylor comes back with his shirt, I assume to wipe me off, so I reach for it.

  He lightly taps my hand away. “Let me do it,” he winks, sitting next to me and begins wiping.

  He wipes rather gently. Maybe too softly, starting with my face. I’d really like for him to hurry up so I can cover up, but that’s when I realize he’s taking forever on purpose.

  “Maybe you should let me do that,” I suggest.

  “Maybe you should show me your foot finally?”

  Every spark I’d felt for the last hour or so instantly goes out. I snatch the shirt to wipe his essence away.

  “I want to see it, Ree,” he says sternly.

  I fix the top of my dress over my chest and change the subject. “It looks like we’re going to have to call it a night. I’m sure I’ll be able to use those first set of headshots for something. Maybe we’ll try again another time when Diamond is available.”

  “Ree,” he groans in a gravelly tone and grabs under my knee with both hands, propping my leg in the air. “I want to see the foot.”

  “No, don’t!” I try to pull my leg back and I howl in pain. “Stop it hurts. If we’re both pulling...”

  “Then don’t pull! And stop fighting me.” He manages to loosen one of the two buckles strapped around the ankle.

  I’m squirming and heat is rising. It’s not the good kind or the bad kind of heat. It’s shame. I’m sickening hot with embarrassment and I’m beginning to sweat.

  “Taylor, please,” I try to pull my leg back again and I’m even tempted to kick him in the face. The man is insatiable. He’s got me in another one of his traps. He’s turned his back to me with my leg caught in his grip.

  Why does he want to see my foot so badly? It’s freaky. I’m a freak.

  “Taylor, don’t. You won’t like it. You’ll hate it. You’ll hate me. Please. It’s ugly.”

  My boot comes free along with my white and pink polka dot sock.

  Silence.

  Mostly.

  My teeth are chattering with anticipation of whatever is about to come out of his mouth.


  “Well,” he grunts. “You’re right.” He turns to face me, showing me my own foot. “This is one ugly Tucker.”

  Bile rises into my throat as a wave of disgrace washes over me.

  “No, seriously,” he continues. “This foot is at least ten shades lighter than your other foot. When was the last time Tucker saw the light of day? Poor little guy. He needs a tan.” He strokes my foot like he’s petting it. “And look at these toes.” He shakes his head. “You’ve painted the other set but these aren’t painted at all. No wonder you hide this foot. You don’t take care of it like the other.”

  What the hell is he talking about? And why is he playing around? Can he not see that it’s...

  Different?

  “Taylor, it’s very nice of you to try to be kind—”

  “Kind?” He flinches. “There’s nothing wrong with your foot, Rerun. I mean it looks different than the other one and it’s obvious you’ve had some surgery with all the scars I see, but I don’t see why you’re so embarrassed about it.”

  “Taylor, please don’t patronize me.” I sniffle, trying to take my leg back, but he pulls.

  “I’m not patronizing you.” He puts my leg down gently and comes to lie on top of me. “Baby, listen. I’ve seen all kinds of scary feet. Broken feet. Blistered feet. Feet with calluses bigger than the toe they’re on. You have cute feet. In fact, the one you’re worried about I see has a bit more of an arch and an inner curve than the other, but I wouldn’t have known it was different if you didn’t limp when you walk. In truth, the only thing that worries me about your foot is that it hurts you.”

  I recognize my ears are wet. They’re getting cold. Tears have been dripping from my eyes to pool in my inner ear canal. “I don’t understand.” I wipe my face. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  No one has ever been so nice. Not since my social worker. And Taylor is not the kind of guy who needs to be nice to anyone. He can be whoever he wants. He can be a total dick and people will still love him for it.

  “Why?” He smears the wetness of my tears across my cheeks with his thumbs. “For the same reason you like to take my picture.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”