by Meg Ripley
“Are you wearing anything under that skirt?” Mary’s eyes widened in surprise at the question, and her cheeks went pink in a way that had nothing to do with the little bit of color she’d painted on them.
“Yes,” she said, pressing her lips together as she looked down at the floor.
“Really? I don’t believe you.”
Mary’s blush deepened and she met my gaze. “Seriously? You want to fuck right now?” Her voice was strained.
I shrugged. “It’s another hour until we need to leave anyway; might as well kill some time.” I licked my lips. I wanted to reach out, pull her skirt up, and see for myself if she was telling the truth.
“Were you this horny when you were using?” Mary asked me, her arms tightening slightly across her chest. I considered answering, but after a moment, the sight of her curves and the appealing mystery of what I would find underneath her clothes made it impossible to even think of words. I closed the distance between us, letting my hands fall to Mary’s full hips as I leaned in close.
“I was hornier,” I murmured before I pressed my lips against hers. I didn’t even care about how carefully she’d applied her makeup, or the prospect of messing it up. I let my hands wander over her body, enjoying the satisfying feeling of her heavy breasts, her tiny waist, her firm ass under my fingers. I couldn’t imagine how it was even possible for her to have anything on underneath her clothes. It wasn’t possible; I had to prove she was lying. A hot jolt shot through me at the idea of getting Mary naked again; neither of us had made a move after our first—and only—tryst, but everything about that little incident was burned into my memory.
I found the hem of Mary’s skirt and tugged it up, slowly and carefully. She shivered against me and I deepened the kiss as her lips parted, tasting and probing her mouth. I managed to work Mary’s tight skirt up over her hips and pulled back, already panting slightly from the heat rushing through my body, pooling in my groin like molten metal. “I’ll be fucked,” I said, looking down to see the tiny, barely-there scrap of lace and ribbon that was trying to pass as her panties. It was no wonder I hadn’t seen any evidence of it; in the mirror behind her I could see the fine ribbon that disappeared between the high, full, firm cheeks of her ass.
“In a few minutes, sure,” Mary said, her voice rippling with amusement. I grinned and slipped a hand between her thighs, bringing my fingers up to barely brush against the little scrap of fabric that barely—and I mean barely—covered her pussy. Mary shivered and I began to stroke her slowly, pressing my fingers against her until they worked up in between her already-slick folds.
“How pissed off would you be if I took off all of your clothes right now?” I nibbled along the column of Mary’s throat as I rubbed her, finding her clit by touch; I knew I’d found it when she gasped, her hips bucking, pushing her slick pussy against my fingers.
“Not—not all of them. This took a while,” Mary murmured, a soft moan leaving her lips. I kissed her again as she became wetter and wetter, soaking through her panties every moment that I stroked and rubbed her. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her thong and tugged. The ribbons managed to hold up—somehow—as I pulled the little scrap of fabric down off of Mary’s hips and dragged it along her thighs, letting it fall to the floor.
“I’ll leave the skirt on,” I suggested, cupping her pussy in the palm of my hand and rubbing slowly. Mary’s hands fumbled and tugged at the bottom of the button-down shirt I had put on, slowly working it free of my jeans. She brought her hands back around to the front of my body and began to slowly work the buttons free.
“Bra too,” Mary said breathlessly.
“The shirt’s got to be harder to get into than the bra,” I said, pulling her away from her bathroom counter and staggering into the bedroom beyond. I had been pleased to note that Mary’s room was clean, but not exactly neat; her bed was unmade, there were a few stray dirty clothes that hadn’t made it into the hamper, little things like that told me that she wasn’t afraid to be a little messy.
I tumbled Mary onto her bed and pulled at the tight, low-cut shirt she wore, trying to figure out just how to get it off of her. I wanted, more than anything, to see her fully naked, but I knew there was no chance of that; I’d have to stay content with the lovely glimpse I’d had of her ass, her bare pussy, and her barely-covered tits. Maybe later—assuming we weren’t both killed—we would have time to see each other in more detail.
I pulled the cups of Mary’s bra down without even knowing how I’d gotten her shirt off; she had managed to finally finish unbuttoning my shirt and had stripped it down over my arms. “Fuck, Alex,” Mary muttered, trembling underneath me on the bed. “I love your ink—did I ever mention that?” I chuckled, kissing and nipping along the column of her throat.
“Don’t think you did,” I replied, spreading her legs wider. Something had plagued me ever since our fast-and-dirty tryst days before. I wanted—needed—to taste her, something I hadn’t had time for when we’d been together on the art room couch. I slithered down along the curves of her body, trailing kisses everywhere on my way from her lips to her tits, along her bare belly, past the bunched-up fabric of her skirt. I kissed Mary’s inner thighs and she shivered.
“Fucking tease,” she said with a groan of frustration. I laughed, brushing my fingers against her soaking wet folds. I spread Mary’s legs wider and held them pinned with my arms, breathing against her sensitive, drenched skin.
“I’m a tease? You’re the one wiggling your ass right in front of me like you wanted me to just push your fucking skirt up and fuck you right there in the bathroom,” I muttered, burying my face against Mary’s soaking wet pussy, sucking and licking ravenously. She gasped and moaned, her hips twisting underneath me as she arched up off of the bed in instant reaction. She’s definitely a hot little thing under that cool, professional act, I thought as I lapped up the fluids that had started to flow. I moaned; I had to admit that Mary tasted even better than I had let myself imagine.
I worshipped her with my tongue, teasing Mary with my barbell piercing for as long as I could hold out, even as my cock began to throb and ache with need. I brought the tip of my tongue up to her clit and then just barely missed it, darting back down to the well of her pussy once more, over and over again. Mary pitched and twisted and writhed underneath me, moans ripping through her lips, cut through by gasps. I kept it up until I couldn’t stand to wait for even a moment longer—I had to have her.
I pulled back and Mary groaned in frustration, her hands tightening on my shoulders in a desperate bid to keep me right where I was. I chuckled and licked my lips clean of the last little trace of her fluids, slithering up along Mary’s body until I came to her mouth. I kissed her hungrily, rocking my hips against hers, rubbing the hard bulge of my erection against her soaking wet pussy. “This isn’t all about you, sweetheart,” I told her. “I have needs, too.”
“So then fuck me!” Mary coiled her arms around my shoulders, pushing her hips down to meet mine. “Fuck, Alex…you’re the worst fucking tease.”
“I’m the worst tease?” I nibbled at the pulse point just below Mary’s ear. “I think you’re worse, by far.” I reached down and opened the fly of my jeans. I didn’t even take them off all the way; I pushed the fabric down over my hips just enough to get my cock free. Mary draped her legs around my waist and I thrust into her all at once; I just couldn’t hold back enough to take my time. I had to feel her hot, wet, inner walls wrap around me; I had to feel the little spasms of her pleasure.
We started moving together right away, both of us out of our minds with the need to get off. I hadn’t realized how turned on I’d become just from the simple act of going down on Mary; the sound of her moans and cries of pleasure, the feeling of her body tensing and twisting under mine—knowing that I was giving her that, that I was making her feel that way—was almost enough to bring me to the edge myself. I wouldn’t last long; but I hoped I could at least hold back long enough to get her off.
&nb
sp; I felt Mary’s body flexing around my cock in little spasms, and I knew she was getting close. I thrust into her harder and faster, kissing her everywhere my lips could reach, nipping and nibbling every sensitive spot I had ever learned about on a woman’s body. As it was, Mary barely managed to beat me to orgasm; just as I felt her body tighten down in the first wave of climax, I lost my self-control, and everything inside of me tensed as I came. I kept myself moving for as long as I possibly could, but after a while both of us went still and then sagged against Mary’s bed, panting and gasping for breath.
****
Somehow we both managed to get ourselves back together in time to leave for the club; I wiped the makeup off of my face and put my clothes back on, while Mary somehow managed to fix the smears and sweat that had messed up her makeup in a matter of minutes, and wriggled back into the tight skirt and revealing blouse she’d decided on for the night.
“You know, when this is over, I want to see you completely naked again,” I told her, looking her up and down as we walked from the car towards the entrance of the club.
“If we get through this, then the minute we’re back at the house, I’m taking all this off. It’s less than comfy, you know.” I stared at Mary’s ass, perfectly curved in the skirt she wore.
“Less than comfy, but more than hot,” I told her with a little grin. Mary rolled her eyes, but in the yellow-orange light outside of the club, I could see her smiling.
The man at the door recognized me. “I heard you were in rehab,” Drake said, raising an eyebrow as he checked Mary’s ID.
“I got out,” I said, shrugging. “She’s here to keep me in line.” Drake looked at Mary for what seemed like a long time before a respectful grin broke out on his face.
“If you can do that, then Alex here needs you in his life,” Drake said. “Go on in.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask for cover,” Mary commented as we went into the cool, dark club.
“You’re with me, and Drake decided he likes you. Cover’s for visitors—you’re practically family now.” I started towards the bar; but then I remembered that I wasn’t even supposed to be drinking. What the hell do sober people even do in clubs? I’d never had the opportunity to find out. I felt antsy, irritable.
“Want something to drink?” Mary asked me.
I stared at her. “I thought I’m not supposed to be drinking.”
Mary sighed. “Water, or ginger ale or something,” she said. “We’ll look weird if we don’t have something in our hands.” I had to agree with that assessment. I told her to get me water, and looked around while Mary went to the bar.
I spotted a few of Big J’s dealers that I could recognize; it wasn’t like I knew all of them, of course—a guy as big as Big J had more people working for him than I would probably ever meet. But skinny Alberto, Donald T., and Reggie were guys I knew, and they knew me. I saw each of them take out their phones, but it was impossible to know whether they were texting Big J to let him know I’d come out of the woodwork, or if it was that they were communicating with a client, or what was happening.
Mary came back with two full plastic cups; one with water for me, and another with ginger ale for herself.
“You could have a drink, you know,” I pointed out.
“One, I want to stay alert. Two, I didn’t want to basically taunt you with something you can’t have. It’s fine.” She looked around, her gaze sweeping the room, and I put my arm around her waist; I told myself it was because I wanted to look natural, but it was mostly because I wanted to have my arm around her.
“We’ve been spotted,” I said into her ear. “Don’t be obvious, but three guys in here have seen me.”
“Five,” Mary countered, glancing at me. I frowned. “Guy over at two o’clock,” she said, and I glanced in that direction as casually as possible; sure enough, I saw someone watching us—but how did Mary know it was one of Big J’s guys? “Another one at ten o’clock,” she added. I looked in that direction; sure enough, there was someone else, watching us both.
“What do we do?” I asked Mary. “Just hang out and hope one of them approaches us?” This was the part of the plan that no one was entirely certain about. There were, supposedly, police waiting to spring the trap; but neither Mary nor I had any idea of what the trigger was supposed to be.
“For right now, we hang out, and enjoy the music,” Mary suggested. “Wait and see if more of Big J’s people come.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “Do not get separated from me, Alex. Seriously.”
We wandered around the dark depths of Vagabond, hand in hand. I felt like such a tool, sipping my water, smoking a few cigarettes, while I could feel eyes on me from all around the room. Come on, you assholes, someone make a move. Offer me a hit at least. Something. Like a good little boy, I followed Mary to the restrooms. “Stay right here,” Mary said, looking at me with serious eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes.”
I should have been safe, in the midst of a public space, right next to the bathrooms, waiting for my supposed girlfriend to come out. It should have been the last place that any of Big J’s guys would have tried to grab me from. I could even see into the ladies’ room—though not into the stalls, unfortunately.
But as I counted down the seconds before Mary could believably come out of the bathroom and join me again, I felt a heavy hand fall on my right shoulder, and then another hand fell on my left shoulder. “Welcome back to the scene, North,” I heard Reggie say in my ear. “The boss has been looking for you. Wants to have a few words.”
“I’m here with a date,” I said, trying to shrug their hands off of my shoulders. “Besides, I’m not really into coke anymore.”
“Come on, Alex,” I turned and saw one of the guys that Mary had pointed out. “Your little girlie can come with us too, but you’ve put off talking to Big J for too long.”
Mary stepped out of the bathroom and I saw—to my horror—that two tough-looking, wild-eyed women, who were unobtrusively gripping her arms at her sides, flanked her. Fuck. Hook, line, and sinker. Come on, cops—bust these assholes. My and Mary’s escorts started to lead us out through the back door of Vagabond, and I could only hope that the cops who were supposed to be waiting for us were really there, that they would spring into action in a matter of moments, before we got loaded into the van I saw parked at the end of the alley. “This was a fucking terrible idea,” I said to Mary; of course, the others heard me, but right then, I didn’t care.
“Any time now,” I heard Mary mutter as our escorts led us through the alley towards the van waiting at the end. Of all the fucking clichés, it was a black-paneled van, the windows all tinted so heavily you couldn’t see in. Exactly the kind of van that too many people in Miami had—and exactly the kind of van that the cops would expect to see a junkie forced into.
“Keep your mouth shut,” one of the women said, and I saw Mary stagger.
“Hey, she’s not even part of this!” I said to the people who had me by the arms. “Let her go.”
“She’s with you, she comes with,” the dealer told me firmly. I looked at Mary; her big, dark eyes were a little wide, but I could tell that she was holding onto her composure, that the wheels were turning in her head. Why do I think she’d try to take on all these fuckers if she thought the cops wouldn’t come through for us? I couldn’t help smiling to myself, though I wanted to tell Mary that whatever thoughts she was entertaining of rescuing us herself were pointless. The dealers who had me had guns; I had to assume the women who’d taken Mary did, too.
They shoved us into the back of the van and I had a moment or two to think about where the hell the cops could possibly be. Were they tailing us? Were they going to follow us to this meeting I was supposed to have with Big J and do the bust there? Mary crouched across the van from me, the women who’d snatched her out of the bathroom on either side of her, and even though her demeanor was a little bit scared and submissive, one look at her downturned face told me she hadn’t given up yet. Nick was totally r
ight about her, I thought. I’m fucking gone on this one.
“I swear to god,” I told the guys watching us in the back of the van as we pulled away from the curb, “If one of you assholes lays a hand on her, I’m going to find a fucking way to kill you as slowly as possible.” One of the dealers laughed.
“How long have you been without? I’d have thought you’d be offering us our choice of hole just for a little bump.”
“Is it true you were in rehab?” Reggie asked me.
“The band put me there; the label, too. Said I was getting too wild.”
“Stealing from the man, that’s pretty fucking wild all right.”
“I didn’t steal from him; why the hell would I do that? I’d just bought enough for the whole week.”
“Maybe you wanted more than you were entitled to. Maybe you just saw it out and couldn’t resist.” Reggie shrugged. “It’s not my job to figure out why you’d do something. The boss says to pick North up, so we pick you up.”
“It was someone else—if you bring me to J and he kills me, whoever actually did it is just going to steal from him again.”
“Not really my problem. I do what I’m told; I get paid. That’s all I care about.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course. There was not really a whole lot of honor in any person who’d become a dealer, at least not a relatively big time dealer like Reggie was. The average guy who sold the extra weed he grew when he had enough for himself was one thing, but anyone involved in coke, meth, or E was a different kind of person altogether.
“You get around to fucking her yet, or you two just meet?” Reggie’s friend gestured to Mary.
“None of your fucking business,” I said. The guy laughed.
“Oh he got around to it, all right,” one of the women said, joining in the laughs. Mary looked up from her lap and even in the dark confines at the back of the van, her gaze hit me like a punch to the gut.