Alpha (Book Collection)

by Robin Fate

  "Well that's too bad, it's my body and I like it." She put her shirt back on.

  I smiled at her and threw my palms in the air. Whatever cranks you lady.

  She came into the kitchen and stirred the pot. She found some herbs that I'd forgotten I actually had and added them to the pot. Herbes de Provence. The whole thing smelled pretty good. I was washing the potatoes in the sink.

  The power went out.

  "Fuck" "Shit." We said together in the pitch black.

  Not surprising in an ice storm. "I'll bet a line is down," I said. It had just gone dark outside.

  "Everything is out," I said to her. "We can flush the toilet once, but it won't fill up again. There's a second toilet on this floor. Turn the stove off." She did. "We've got no heat," I added.

  "Do you have a generator?"

  "No. A fireplace but no firewood."

  "No firewood. What's the point of a fireplace if you don't have firewood?"

  "Emma, we've got a shop full of wood."

  "Oh yeah," she suddenly realized.

  So that's what we did. We put our coats and boots on, grabbed a couple of flashlights and went out to the shop. We filled two small tarps with scrap cuts from the large pile and hauled them back to the house. We were like two Santa Clauses with giant bags full of toys on our backs sliding on the ice.

  I lit the fire and we settled in with blankets on the couch across from the fire. Dinner was a big bag of potato chips, some cheese and two bottles of Chianti Classico.

  The only light was from the fire which was blazing nicely.

  "Sam, how come you never married? I mean you're a really nice guy. And good looking too. Steady income, right? I'm sure that women are tripping over themselves to get to you."

  "Well, you'd be wrong. The reality is that I'm married to my job."

  "Come on."

  "I just don't get to go out. I mean I've been on plenty of dates and such, but I just don't have the opportunity to meet single women."

  "Go to a bar," she said.

  "I tried that bar scene once. I just don't do bars."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I live in the country. I've got to drive. If I get caught drinking and driving I'm fucked. Totally, totally fucked. Without wheels I can't work, I can't get groceries, I can't get wood supplies."

  "Hmm," she seemed to understand.

  "And how does that work in a singles bar, 'another glass of wine for this young lady and I'll have a Shirley Temple please'?"

  She giggled, "You have a point."

  "I was engaged once." I offered.

  "What happened, did she quit or did you?"

  "She did. Sally. Really cute and very nice. I fell for her right away. I met her the same week that I put an offer on this place. The sale didn't go through for three months and at that point I still had six and a half months on my apartment lease. The bottom line was that she liked the Sam Rockwell that lived in the city, but not the one that lived and worked in the country. Being the country squire's wife was not something that appealed to her."

  "That's a bit shallow isn't it?"

  "That's the same conclusion I came to. She wanted me to sell this place. I'd just bought it. She wasn't even willing to give it a try."

  "That's awful."

  "Yeah it was. It was literally 'it's either me or the country shop and house. Take your pick.'"

  We sat in silence for a while.

  "What about you," I asked, "why aren't you married?"

  "You're kidding?"

  "No. Why would you say that?"

  "Look at me. Who the fuck wants to go out with me?" she said, then continued, "I'll tell you who. Losers, nerds and assholes."

  "Come on."

  "It's the body I was born with."

  "What does the body have to do with it?"

  She didn't answer at first, then said, "Everything. When I was younger, I'd go to the school dance. Do you think I was ever asked to dance?"

  "Of course you were," I answered.

  "Yeah," she laughed, "by losers, nerds and assholes."

  "But you're none of those things. You're pleasant, you're a good worker." She turned her head and glared at me. "You're intelligent and you're pretty. She glared again. "Except for the face metal and the tats, but that's just me."

  "I thought we weren't going to talk shop here," she said.

  "We're not."

  "I'm hardly pretty. I have a big ass, I don't have a waist and my friend Carly had bigger tits when she was twelve than I do now."

  "You're getting all fixated on the body again."

  "I'm fine with my body."

  "Then why do you say things like that?"

  "Like what?"

  "That you're not pretty and you have a big ass and small tits."

  "Because it's true!"

  "You have a lovely smile and beautiful green eyes."

  "And a big ass!" She brought her feet up onto the couch, curled her arms around her knees and stared into the fire, still wrapped in her blanket.

  I wasn't going to win this.

  She put her feet back onto the floor, reached for her wineglass, gulped down the last third of the glass, almost slammed it back on the coffee table in front, then curled her knees back up.

  What low self-esteem she had of herself. I wondered if that was why she felt compelled to get herself tattooed and pierced. Did she need that 'Goth Look' to make herself different? Does looking different make you feel different? Is she that insecure?

  "You're a lovely person." I said.

  "Shut up."

  Did I really say something that wrong? That she's pretty?

  "Can I pour you some more wine?"

  "Yes," she answered in a huff. I did.

  "Emma, I know we're not supposed to talk about this, but think of it this way, I'm telling the girl sitting next to me about my new employee." She said nothing, just stared into the fire.

  "I have this new employee. She had virtually no woodworking skills when she came to my shop a few weeks ago. When she showed up, I was completely shocked to find this Goth chick standing there. Nevertheless, I was in such a bind, I hired her anyway. I really wasn't expecting too much from her."

  She pulled her knees down, took a sip of wine while taking a quick sideways glance at me.

  "I'm over the moon with this girl. She's an excellent employee. A great worker. Great with her hands. Very talented. She learns fast, she works quickly, and I can tell she puts a lot of pride into her work. Her workmanship is excellent. She's pleasant, intelligent, witty and funny too. I hope she stays with me for a long, long time."

  She stared at me for a few moments without an expression on her face. "I have to say Sam, that I really enjoy working in the shop. For the first time in my life, someone seems to appreciate what I do. In college I'd always have criticisms 'you could have highlighted that curve a bit more', "what are you trying to say with that piece?', 'I know you can do better than a B'. In the clothing store the manageress would say 'you could have made that sale'. All my life I've never been quite good enough. And I was never good enough for my parents, either. Do you think they like my tats and metal?"

  "Did you do that just to piss them off?"

  "No, but it was a nice side benefit."

  I said nothing.

  "What I'm saying I guess," she continued, "is thank you for not being a fucking asshole. You make me feel good about myself."

  "No Emma, it's not about me. Everything I said is true. It's all your doing. It's your attitude, it's your skills and it's your work ethic. Plus I think you're pretty."

  She smiled. "But I still have a fat ass."

  "Doesn't matter it's still sexy." I wished I hadn't said that but it came out anyway.

  "Oh, you think I'm sexy too." It wasn't a question.

  Oh boy. Employee sexual harassment. Fuck.

  "Emma, I..."

  "Well I think you're sexy too," she cut me off.

  "I'm sorry I said that."

  "Why?"
<
br />   "I don't want to lose my employee because of sexual harassment."

  "I'm not your employee here."

  "I'm sure the courts would understand that."

  "Sam, don't be a jerk. You're not sexually harassing me. 'Give me a blow job and you get to keep your job,' that would be sexual harassment."

  "Ah, just a little."

  "Well you're not doing that are you?"

  "No. I'm not. I would never do that. And I will never do that." I said.

  "It can work the other way around too."

  "How so?" I asked.

  "If I said, 'I'm not coming into work tomorrow unless you eat my pussy right now.'"

  She was certainly not shy.

  "But you're not doing that are you." I said rather than asked.

  "No, I'm not."

  "Good." I thought that was the end of it. We both reached for our wine glasses and took a sip.

  "So will you do it?" she asked.

  "Do what?"

  "Eat my pussy."

  I nearly dropped my wine glass.

  "Not if it's sexual harassment I won't." I was relieved to have found a quick out.

  She turned to me with a grin on her face.

  "It won't be."

  Did I just agree to eat her pussy?

  "Emma, how will you feel in the morning, in the shop?" I was hoping to backtrack.

  She turned on the couch and wrapped her left hand around the back of my neck, leaned towards me and said, "Sexually satisfied I hope." She was grinning at me.

  I felt my cock twitch.

  "Emma, if we do this we can't extend it into the shop."

  "You're damn right we can't. There you're my boss. Here you're the country squire with the roaring fire and fancy dinner." She waved her hand over the spent chip bag.

  I couldn't keep the grin off my face. Neither could she. She took my wine glass from me and set both on the coffee table.

  Then she pulled her red t-shirt off again.

  Her tits certainly weren't big, only a handful really. Her areola were small too, almost non-existent. But her nipples were huge. The rings were gold, probably three quarters of an inch diameter. The nipples almost filled them. The rings shimmered in the firelight.

  "Do you like the rings?" she asked. Clearly she caught me staring. She flipped them with her index fingers. The nipple skin reacted to the movement of the rings.

  "Yeah, they're kind of kinky actually."

  She pulled on her nipple rings. The nipples followed and some of her breast flesh too. I wondered if that hurt. "I hate my tits, but I love my nipples." She twisted the rings a bit.

  "I love your nipples too."

  "Then give them a little suck." She pulled my head towards her chest.

  I gave one a suck, then the other. The rings felt funny in my mouth. There was certainly a contrast between hard rings and soft nipples. She made a kind of purring sound while my tongue and lips played with her nipples.

  "Do you like that?" I asked looking up to her green eyes sparkling in the firelight.

  "What do you think?" She pushed my head back down to her tits.

  As I pulled my mouth away from her boobs, my t-shirt was pulled off me, over my head. Her hands were all over my chest, shoulders and arms. She pushed the side of her face against my chest, then pushed me back onto the couch and climbed on top of me. She looked down at me from above, straddling my waist. The light from the fire only illuminated half of her face. The tattoo on her right side danced in the firelight.

  What an exotic creature she was. My cock certainly thought that too. It was rock hard.

  She arched herself down to kiss me. Her lips were warm, soft. Her tongue darted out, pushing my teeth apart. Her tongue found mine. I pushed back into her mouth. Her breath was warm. I ran my hands down her arms. The tattooed side was warmer from the fire. Her nose ring bounced off my nose as we kissed.

  Her hand reached down under my waist band. "Nice," she whispered as she found my stiff cock.

  "Sam, before we go any farther I want you to know I don't have any funny diseases and I'm on the pill. How about you?"

  "I'm not on the pill," I said.

  "Don't be an ass."

  "No funny diseases," I said grinning.

  "Good." She got off me and pulled my sweatpants off. My cock sprung up. "Very nice," she said as she grabbed a hold of it. She lowered her mouth to my cock.

  My brain swirled in sync with her tongue on my cock. Lightly she stroked my shaft as she licked the underside, then she pushed my cock way down her throat and held it momentarily before pulling back up in a pool of saliva.

  Where did she learn how to do that?

  Emma let go and my cock flopped onto my belly. She stood up and pulled her sweat pants off. I could see her pussy hairs in the firelight. There wasn't a lot and they weren't black. My hand reached out to her puss as she raised her left leg and put her foot on the couch next to my hip.

  Metal! "Whaa?"

  "Yeah," she said as her hands slid down to her crotch, I could barely make out in the light that she was pulling two rings, one on each inner labia, "I've got rings in my lips."

  My finger slipped right into her. It was warm, tight and very wet. She let go of the rings, I could feel them against my knuckle. I pulled my finger out and played with the curls of her soft pussy hairs, her soft pussy lips and the contrasting hard rings. I gently twisted everything I could touch with my fingertips. I could see a smile on the side of her face that was illuminated by the firelight as she looked down on me from above.

  I slid down the couch to make room for her knees. She straddled me and lowered her pussy to my awaiting mouth, my hands cupped her ass. All at once I smelled her pussy, tasted it and felt the softness of her lips and the distinction made by the two rings. Sensory overload. Bliss. Divine female nectar made my brain swirl.

  My lips and tongue went everywhere. I couldn't get enough. After a few content moments I became aware of her fingers against my tongue and lips. With the index and thumb of each hand she pulled on the rings, splaying her puss wide open and exposing her clit.

  "Lick gently," she whispered. I did. Right on her clit. "That's it," she cooed. Her hips rocked slightly to meet my tongue. I slipped my index finger into her hole, "Yeah," she whispered as she exhaled. Her rocking motion increased. Each exhale of her breath became throaty. I slipped a second finger into her. I could feel the tightness of her muscles as I fucked her with my fingers. She continued to pull on her rings. The tempo of her husky breathing increased. Her thighs were trembling. I gently sucked her little clit while flicking it with the tip of my tongue.

  I splayed my two fingers into a vee as I slowly pulled out, nearly to the end of my fingers. A bridge of moisture glistened between my knuckles in the firelight. I licked it off. Pure Emma heroin. Right then and there, I became an addict. I plunged my fingers back inside her and sucked directly onto her clit.

  She let go of the rings and pulled the back of my head into herself. "Ggaauuughh Fuuuck meeee!" Pussy muscles clamped onto my fingers and bulged to my knuckles, loosened, then clamped again. Her hips jerked. Pubic hair tickled my nostrils as I attempted to take in air. Guttural sounds emanated from above me. Muscles clamped again and again before she released the pressure from the back of my head.

  I gasped for air. Looking up I saw half of her face illuminated in the firelight, contorted, looking down on me. Her belly button piercing glistened in the light. Something dripped on my forehead.

  I pulled my fingers out. My hand was soaked. I licked my fingers and hand.

  She wiggled her way down the couch straddling me. She reached between her legs and picked up my cock. She angled it towards her pussy as she wiggled her bum, as I continued to lick my fingers. I could feel my cock head being enveloped in warmth. And then I was in. All the way.

  "Ahhhh," she gasped, "Fuuckk...oh yeah," she said to herself, I think.

  Her pussy was tight. Wet too. She rocked her hips gently as she rubbed her lower belly with
her fingers.

  "Ohhh...so good," she gurgled, "so full." Her head fell back, her mouth was open.

  "Fuck me Sam." I could feel her pussy muscles clamping down on my cock.