I crawl to the edge of the bed. Extending one hand out I hook one finger into his boxers. Holding his eyes, I slowly pull at the material. He comes with a wolfish growl. When he is close enough I sit on my haunches and drag the black and white striped material down his muscular thighs. When it reaches his knees it becomes slack and falls of its own accord to pool around his feet.
He is buck naked.
I cup his heavy sack, as soft as the finest kidskin with one hand. His testicles are two perfect ovals. With my other hand, I grasp the base of his erect cock. It is only inches away from my mouth and it looks monstrously big and angry. Green/blue veins dance over the pale sienna surface. He stares down at me with an intense, sensual look in those beautiful green eyes. I move my head forward and wrap my lips around the satiny soft skin.
He groans and shoves his hands into my hair and pulls me against him, forcing my jaw open, forcing me to take his thick cock head deeper.
‘Oh God, yes,’ he encourages.
I start sucking him wildly, furiously bobbing my head back and forth, taking more and more of his hardness in my mouth with each trip down his shaft. I nearly gag, but I keep going, determined to swallow all of him, until he suddenly pulls me off his cock. In an instant he grabs me and throws me shocked onto the bed.
I watch him roll a rubber on to his tool with wide eyes.
The weight of his body settles on me, pushing apart my thighs. Immediately I spread my legs wide and push my hips up in an open invitation as I lock my legs around his hips.
‘Yes,’ he growls as the hot head of his cock finds my pussy and enters. I feel every inch of his cock as it slowly slides into my tight, slick opening. My muscles clench around the thick intrusion. He lowers his body on top of me. The sensation of his body hair rubbing against my breasts and stomach as he moves over me sets my skin on fire.
The deliciously male smell of him makes me feel light-headed as he jams deeper and deeper into me until he is balls deep. Slow thrusts, fast strokes, sliding deep, stopping shallow, he goes on and on, rocking my body until I feel my teeth sink viciously into his shoulder.
He slams hard into me. ‘You gonna fucking come? Yeah?’ he snarls.
I keep the death grip on his body as the glow inside me becomes a raging inferno. While my arched body jerks and convulses, his rhythm suddenly falters and he cranes his neck and cries, ‘Tori.’
He rolls off my limp body and lays at my side, staring at the ceiling. Our breathing evens out slowly.
‘I keep getting whiffs of the smell of apple,’ he says lazily.
Shit. I shift slightly. ‘Er … I think I saw an apple tree outside the balcony.’
He turns his head and fixes me with his emerald eyes. ‘It’s coming from you, isn’t it?’
‘I may have accidentally sprayed some apple scented room freshener on my wrists, but I washed it off, so it can’t really be me.’
He takes my wrist and smells the inside deeply. ‘I think you’ve just ruined all apples for me.’ He stares at me. ‘I’m going to get a hard on every time I see one.’
I look at the bruise my bite has given him and swallow hard. What is it about this man? He just has to look at me and I’m gone. It’s unfinished business swirling between us all over again. I think he might have been about to bend his head and kiss me, when I fart. A surprisingly loud one. I feel my eyes widen and see his do the same. We stare at each other for a few seconds. Did I have broccoli at lunch? Thank God, no.
Then my mouth opens and I ask, ‘Was that you?’
His eyes widen even more. ‘No. I thought that was you.’
I shake my head slowly, my face is rapidly becoming redder and redder and his eyes are becoming more and more sparkly.
‘That is some cold-blooded shit to deny,’ he says.
I shrug. ‘So what you gonna do about it?’
‘There’s only one thing to do,’ he says mock seriously.
‘What?’ I ask reluctantly.
‘I’ll have to identify it by smell,’ he says, and lifts one corner of the duvet and smells the air coming out.
I take a quick surreptitious sniff too and there is no smell coming out. Everyone knows noisy farts don’t smell. ‘Well?’ I ask.
‘Inconclusive. I’m going to have to smell the source of the smell.’
‘No, you’re not,’ I blurt out and start wriggling away. He catches me by my upper arms and half lies on me, trapping me completely.
‘You have a choice. I smell your butt or I make you confess.’
I giggle. ‘Make me confess.’
I thought judging by the smoldering look in his eyes he was going to kiss me or do something sexy to me. It never crosses my mind that his idea of making me confess is to tickle me. He is very good at it. He tickles me until I am curled up into a ball and laughing so hard my stomach hurts, and I am gasping for breath.
‘It was me. It was me,’ I gasp finally, unable to take another second more.
He stops tickling me and kisses the tip of one breast. ‘See how much better life is when you tell the truth.’
I become cold inside. Oh God! If only he knew. Everything about me is a lie. I touch the hard plane of his cheekbone. ‘I didn’t mean to lie. I was just messing with you.’
He looks at me curiously. ‘I know that.’
I smile. ‘Just wanted you to know.’
He rubs his chin. ‘Are we talking about the same thing here?’
‘Yeah. Did you say you brought a picnic basket?’
He vaults off the bed and I watch his long tanned back and tight butt as he pads completely naked out of the room. I close my eyes. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just a fling. He’ll lose interest soon and no one will be the wiser.
I sit up.
Cash
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YXSpXO4N-tI
- Down in The DM,
The Art of The Hustle
By the time I come back with the basket she has pulled a large bath towel around her body and tucked one end between her breasts. It looks hot as fuck. I stand at the doorway and stare at her. Tendrils of gold hair fall in twists around her face and neck. The girl is too damn cute for my liking.
‘What?’ she asks, her mouth red and swollen from sucking my cock so long and hard. Just thinking about her lips wrapped around my dick makes me go hard again.
Fuck. This is going to be a problem.
I’ve never wanted a woman so completely, even after banging her this many times. I got rules, man. Normally by now my cock and I would already be finding a way out. Saying our goodbyes in the most diplomatic way possible, which we have discovered doesn’t actually exist. Goodbye has the unfortunate tendency of making eminently rational girls turn in the blink of an eye into raving psychos. My experience: the sooner you make your exit the better it goes down.
I walk up to the bed, put the basket on it, walk around the side, then up to her. I start unbraiding her hair. Don’t be nobody you ain’t. That’s my motto, but fuck me if this shit doesn’t feel real. I fluff her mermaid hair out.
‘That’s better,’ I say softly.
She stares at me with big eyes.
The mood in the room changes.
‘Are you an angel?’ I ask. Fuck, look at me being cheesy.
‘No, but thank you for the awkwardness you have created,’ she says, biting her bottom lip.
‘Did you think about me last night after I left?’ I ask.
‘No,’ the barefaced liar says.
‘I did. I fantasized about what you would look like with your ankles by your ears’.
She flushes bright red.
‘You’ve gone an interesting shade of red,’ I mock.
She covers her heated cheeks with her palms. ‘What do you expect? It’s a graphic image.’
‘What the hell? You’ve just sucked my dick and I’ve just fucked you senseless.’
She drops her eyes. ‘It’s different when it’s done in the heat of the moment.’
I part the towe
l.
‘Cash,’ she protests, but not too hard.
‘Open your legs. I wanna peek.’
Slowly her thighs open to reveal her blonde thatch and underneath, wet folds of pretty pink flesh. Ain’t nothing sweeter than a fully swollen pussy after a good pounding. My cock twitches. In my world you get addicted to drink, drugs and pussies. Notice I said pussies. Always plural. Why settle for one when you can have them all? But she’s blindsided me, big time. I can’t keep away. One look at her pussy and I want to fuck her again and again and fucking again.
‘Slide your finger in,’ I tell her.
‘Stop being such a pervert,’ she says and closes her legs with a snap.
‘Go on, be wild for me. Play with yourself.’
She opens her legs slowly. Thick honey is oozing out of her. She places her palm on the gold triangle of hair and slowly moves her finger around and around her slick clit. She is so aroused it is protruding like a little white pearl from its hood of flesh. Her sex is actually throbbing.
I reach out and push my finger into her opening.
She gasps.
I push it in and out of her.
Her breathing becomes faster and I shove two fingers into her and hers start circling her clit faster. I watch her sitting there pleasuring herself and it is a glorious sight. I stick a third finger inside her, pump her hard until her whole body arches back.
At that point I can bear it no more and I push her back on the bed and plunge hard and deep into her. Her moan is a beautiful sound, and I feel the blood surging and pulsating in my veins as I ram my entire length into her. I don’t stop until we both explode.
‘Fuck, we didn’t use any protection,’ she says, startling me.
I frown. What the fuck was I thinking of? I can’t believe I did that. I’ve never gone bareback with anybody.
‘Are you on any kind of protection?’ I ask urgently, lifting my sweat drenched body upwards.
‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘I’ve got one of those five year things under my skin.’
I breathe a sigh of relief. Hell, I’m losing it with this girl.
Tori
‘Is this meant to be for two?’ I ask pulling more and more packets of food out of the picnic basket. ‘The delicatessen sure packed a lot of food.’
‘You eat what you can and I’ll finish the rest. After that session I need the sustenance,’ Cash says, looking extremely smug.
Attached to the lid of the basket there are plates, cutlery and glasses. I take them down and put them on the bed. Cash goes and gets the champagne that has been sitting in ice and fills our glasses.
We clink glasses and drink.
‘To the good life,’ Cash says.
‘To the good life,’ I echo.
I open a transparent box of antipasto and nibble on a bit of cold meat while he takes a chunk out of a pork pie.
‘Good stuff,’ he says with relish.
‘Yeah, very tasty,’ I agree, swallowing a bit of potato salad.
He picks up a Muffeletta sandwich. It is made from the sturdy heel of a loaf of Italian bread and piled with cured meats, tangy olives and salad. ‘Do you like Italian food?’ he asks before stuffing his mouth with food.
‘Love it,’ I say.
‘Same here,’ he says. ‘So where in the States are you from?’
‘Georgia.’
‘Oh yeah?’ He wipes his hands on his napkin. ‘I had a tour stop a few years back in Atlanta.’
I clear my throat and try to look at him with an interested expression. The truth is I never took into consideration how difficult lying to him would be. Not admitting that I was in Atlanta for his concert feels horribly, horribly wrong, but to admit it means everything will fall apart.
‘How was it?’
‘Yeah, it was good,’ he says with a languorous look in his eyes.’ I distinctively remember that Georgia girls were gorgeous.’
Shocking, but I never had an inkling as to what a jealous person I am. I feel like slapping him across his smug face. I take a sip of champagne and smile tightly. ‘I’m glad you had fun.’
His eyes light up. ‘Are you jealous?’
‘Probably as jealous as you are of the guy I was with at that time,’ I say coolly.
He tears off a bit of bread and dips it into the olive and fig tapenade. ‘Now you’re just being a cloud over my sunshine,’ he grumbles.
I smile inwardly. ‘Want some potato salad?’
‘Yeah, pass it over,’ he says and chews thoughtfully. ‘So who was this guy then?’
‘No one you know.’
‘I know that. Were you in love with him or something?’
‘Yeah, I was in love with him. Look can we not talk about him anymore?’
I pick up a packet of biscuits from the basket. ‘What on earth is a garam marsala biscuit?’
‘They have Indian spices in them,’ he says.
I make a face. ‘A biscuit with Indian spices?’
‘Try it.’ he suggests.
I open the packet and take a small bite of a biscuit. ‘This is not bad,’ I say.
‘Let me have a taste,’ he says, and catches my hand. I watch him bring my hand to his lips. He bites into the biscuit while staring in my eyes. ‘Tell me more about Tori,’ he says softly.
‘There’s not really that much to tell. I come from a family of four, my parents and my brother and me. My father analyses numbers and data on computer spreadsheets, but none of us have figured out exactly what he does. My mom is a housewife. She’s funny and sweet and I miss her, and my brother is in college. I’ll be joining him this fall.’
‘What were you like as a child? I bet you had some mouth on you.’
‘Actually no. I was a very quiet and insular child. My mother said I refused to speak to anybody unless they gave me sweets first, and even then I was a bitch about it’
He laughs.
‘And you?’ I ask.
‘I was a messed up kid. I can’t explain it, but thoughts came really fast into my head. So damn quick it was like a tap left open on full. Water continuously rushing down a sink hole. It was like being bombarded. I couldn’t process them so I acted out.’
He shrugs and picks up one of the plastic dishes of prawn cocktail.
‘ADHD wasn’t an available condition then, so the doctors thought it might have been a mild form of autism. They wanted to put me on medication to calm me down, but my dad refused point blank. I was seven years old. He thought it was a passing phase.’
He takes a sip of champagne.
‘It was hard for me, but it was hell for all those around me since I was constantly lashing out. I think my father might have been about to cave in when we were passing a music shop one day and there was a shiny red electric guitar in the window. I was seven years old but knew straight away that I wanted to play it. He took me in and the salesman let me put the strap over my head and hooked it up to the amp. It totally dwarfed me.’
He shakes his head with the memory.
‘I couldn’t believe it. The moment the first notes hit my brain the unceasing river of thoughts stopped. I wouldn’t leave the shop without the guitar. It became my salvation. I didn’t want to take classes. I played it just to stop thinking. I’d lock myself in my room and play for hours. As the years passed, my brain calmed down, or fucking rewired itself, who knows, but by the time I was eleven I guess I was a pretty normal kid.’
‘Oh my God. That is amazing,’ I say.
He nods. ‘It was pretty amazing.’
‘So how did you end up as the lead singer of Alkaline?’
‘When I was fifteen I saw an advert in a newspaper. The ad was calling for young street smart, extrovert, ambitious boys who could also sing and dance. I applied and the rest is as they say history, but enough about me.’ He raises an enquiring eyebrow. ‘How does a girl from Georgia end up working as my sister’s PA?’
I take a deep breath. I don’t need to lie. The only thing I will omit to mention will be my reason for wantin
g to work with his sister.
‘My best friend Leah and I had decided to take a year’s break before we went to college. We wanted to backpack around Europe and Asia. It made sense for us to start our journey from England since my aunt was here. The plan was for me to come over first and spend a couple of weeks with my aunt and niece, but then my aunt told me about a PA job to a young girl that did not require any PA skills. It was more of a companion thing. It seemed like the perfect fit.’
I shrug and smile. ‘So I applied. Your dad interviewed me, and to my shock he offered me the job while I was still at the interview. He said he picked me over hundreds of other applicants because I was exactly the kind of smart go-getter he was looking for to broaden his daughter’s horizons. Apparently I was the only applicant from America and he was hoping some of my independence and bravery would rub off on his daughter. After listening to your guitar story I think he is expecting me to have the same effect on your sister that your guitar had on you, and he’s going to be very disappointed.’
Cash smiles. ‘How’s the job working out?’
‘Well, to start with your sister didn’t endear herself to me. I thought she was waaaaaay too spoilt, selfish, and ridiculously obsessed with her appearance, but the job paid well. It was live-in which meant I didn’t have to look for digs or worry about living expenses, and so I thought I’d stick it out.’ I pause and take a deep breath. ‘However, I’ve had a change of heart since then. Britney’s grown on me.’
He smiles. ‘Yeah, my sister is like a fucking creeper. Before you know it she has entwined herself around your heart.’
I frown. ‘How come your dad let her have plastic surgery when she was fifteen?’
‘She saved her pocket money and did her boobs secretly. She had arranged a fake ID and everything. One day dad is sitting in his office and gets a call from the hospital to come and pick up his daughter. She had already been operated on. My dad was livid.’
‘Wow,’ I say in wonder. ‘My dad would have killed me.’
Dear Neighbor Page 29