by C. C. Morian
Kris tried to tune out the moaning and grappling on the couch next to her. When she could take it no longer, she got up and went into the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror. The excitement of the game over, she was really tired. The adrenaline and the dopamine and all the booze had taken its toll. Suddenly she could barely stand up, she was so beat. Her weariness kept the enormity of her loss from registering, otherwise she might have broken down in tears.
She returned to the living room, pulling herself together, drawing on her inner strength, resolved to not be a sore loser in front of Andrew. One look at his sheepish face told her she had been right, Patricia had won again. So that Andrew wouldn’t have to be embarrassed by saying it himself, Kris said, “I concede. I can’t win against those tits.”
“I won fair and square,” said Patricia, harshly. “My tits had nothing to do with it. Tell her, Andrew.”
“Let it go,” said Kris. “I said you won, didn’t I?”
Andrew looked uncomfortable. “Uh, what exactly does the winner get for a prize?”
“We didn’t talk about that beforehand,” said Patricia. “So I guess I get to choose.”
Patricia’s look told Kris that she had sex with Andrew in mind as the prize. It was obvious that he was still pretty turned on, but the tension between the two women was affecting him. Patricia, for her part, looked triumphant, but like Kris, also a little tired. And she had had a lot to drink. . .
Kris grasped at one last hope. “I want to toast the winner,” she said. “As a sign of my acceptance of the decision.”
“All we have is scotch,” said Patricia, “remember?”
“I know. But you won, so we drink your drink.” Kris went to the cabinet and got out the bottle of scotch, pouring three hefty shots.
“I don’t think I can take another drink,” said Andrew. “I’ll pass out.”
“Me too, probably,” admitted Kris. “But a win deserves a drink.” She handed out the glasses and said, “To the winner.” To set the tone, she downed her drink in one gulp, her face cringing on the scotch.
Patricia gave her a contemptuous toast and smoothly emptied her glass. Andrew struggled to finish his.
“One more?” said Kris, holding up the bottle.
“All the games are over,” said Patricia. “You can’t win.”
“Not at this,” said Kris, knowing Patricia was right, at least when it came to games. “But are you going to make me drink alone? How about a little solace for my loss?”
Patricia stared at her suspiciously. “I have to go to the bathroom first,” she said.
“Sure.”
Patricia got up, giving Kris a look, as if to say, Don’t touch Andrew. And then she slipped into her bedroom.
“I can’t believe how tired I am,” said Kris, plopping down on the loveseat, hoping that Patricia would do what she had done, taking a little time in the bathroom to drink some water. She suspected Patricia would also freshen up for Andrew, maybe brush her teeth, getting ready to seduce him.
“Me too,” said Andrew.
“Why don’t you close your eyes for a while? It’s really late.”
Andrew glanced at Patricia’s bedroom. “I don’t want to be rude.”
“Hey, I’m going to do it too. We have to get some sleep sometime. Did Patricia tell you she has to fly to London early tomorrow—early this morning?”
“She does?”
“Really. I feel badly now that we’re keeping her up. I bet she won’t be able to sleep on the plane, and she has an important dinner meeting tomorrow night, she better be fresh for it or her boss will kill her.”
“I’d feel terrible about that.”
Kris didn’t reply but closed her eyes. She hoped it was like yawning, something Andrew would subconsciously respond to. After a minute she opened them a slit to check on Andrew. His head was back, his mouth open, he had crashed. Kris snapped her eyes shut and tried to hide her smile as Patricia came back into the room.
Kris awoke, groggy. Her neck ached, she was laying awkwardly on the loveseat. She must have fallen asleep.
Andrew was in the same position she had last seen him, in the middle of the couch, his head back against the cushion, his mouth slightly open, his body totally relaxed. Patricia was sprawled half across him, her arm on his crotch. Kris thought for a minute that Patricia had claimed her prize, but they were both still totally dressed. And besides, Patricia would have taken Andrew back to her room, wouldn’t she? Although nothing about Patricia would have surprised Kris when it came to this need to steal her men; if Andrew and Kris had been awake, Patricia might have fucked Andrew right there just to rub it in her face.
Kris dug her phone out to check the time. They had slept most of the night away. The booze. . .Kris didn’t feel as hungover as she thought she would, all the water she had drunk had probably helped. She got up, went in the kitchen, and filled another glass at the sink. She noticed the muffins she had brought, still on the counter, but couldn’t make herself eat just then.
Kris leaned on the doorway, looking at Patricia and Andrew on the sofa. Andrew looked cute even while sleeping. Poor guy, she thought. We got him all worked up last night and then left him with blue balls. She remembered how well he had kissed, and how hard his cock had felt against her; they had definitely turned him on. I’m the one who turned him on, she thought, even before Patricia had let him feel her up.
If it wasn’t for Patricia, Kris could have slept with Andrew. Kris didn’t think Andrew was her type long term, he was actually more Brin’s type. Polite, cute, a little on the reserved side. But Kris would have slept with him, it would have been fun, and would also have made her feel that she hadn’t lost yet again to Patricia. Kris had been right earlier, Patricia was no true friend, she was, deep down inside, a bitch who took out her insecurities on those around her. She’d use Andrew and spit him out. If Kris had slept with him she would have done it because she liked Andrew well enough, she’d want to make him feel good, and she’d make it clear to him where she stood, she’d be honest. Patricia would lie to his face.
Well, at least Patricia wouldn’t get him, she had a plane to catch. Which she could certainly miss if she didn’t wake up soon. Serves her right. Putting me down, stealing Andrew, that would be a good punishment. Maybe she’d get in trouble with her boss, or even fired.
Let her sleep.
Kris turned away, catching sight of Brin’s closed door. It gave her pause. What would Brin do in this situation? She’d certainly wake Patricia up. And if it had been anyone else but Patricia, so would Kris. She’d never let anyone risk their job because they had been out drinking together. It just wasn’t the right thing to do.
Sighing, Kris walked over and, not as gently as she might have with someone else, shook Patricia awake.
Patricia awoke with a start. Kris held her phone up so Patricia could see the time.
Patricia groaned as her situation dawned on her. “Shit. I gotta go. Why did you let me sleep?” She pulled herself off of Andrew.
“Hey, I fell asleep too. I just woke up,” said Kris, a little hot. Patricia just wouldn’t give her a break. “I could have let you sleep.”
Patricia looked at her suspiciously, then slowly nodded and said, “Thanks,” although not like she really meant it. She limped into her room.
Kris fell back on the loveseat, getting in a more comfortable position. She was oddly wide awake. She could hear the sound of the shower running in Patricia’s room, and then some hurried packing, interspersed with some swearing.
When Patricia came out, Kris closed her eyes and pretended she was asleep. She didn’t want to deal with Patricia just then. Kris sensed Patricia looking at her, or her and Andrew, maybe wondering what to say. Then came the sound of the outer door, and silence.
Kris got up, got her toiletries and some clothes from her luggage in the corner, and slipped into Patricia’s room to use her bathroom. In the mirror, Kris looked exactly like someone who had a little too much to drink
and fell asleep on a loveseat. She thought briefly of taking a shower, but didn’t want Andrew to feel odd about being alone when he woke up. So she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and was changing into a long tee shirt when she heard Andrew call out softly from the other room, “Anyone here?”
“I’m in the bathroom,” replied Kris, opening the door a crack. Andrew was peering into Patricia’s bedroom. “You need to use it?”
“Uh, yeah, sorry.”
“No problem, we didn’t give you any chance last night.” Kris glanced down, decided the long sleep tee covered enough of her to be decent, and came out of the bathroom. “It’s all yours.”
“Thanks.” Andrew rushed into the bathroom and closed the door.
Kris smiled and sat on Patricia’s bed to wait. She gave the room a good look. It fit Patricia. A lot of expensive stuff visible. Shoes, silver knickknacks, nicely framed photos. Chic pillows. Even the duvet on which Kris sat screamed money. Patricia wasn’t rich, but she wanted everyone to think she was.
When Andrew emerged he looked relieved. He also looked like he had tried to comb his hair and clean up. He’d taken off his tie.
“I borrowed some toothpaste,” he said, then hastily added, “But not the toothbrush.”
“After all the kissing we did last night, I don’t think sharing a toothbrush would be an issue,” said Kris, laughing.
“I guess not,” said Andrew. “That was pretty wild.”
Kris remembered the first kiss with him, her lips tingling. “And pretty nice.”
“That too.” Andrew hesitated. “Uh, about the contest, about—”
“Picking Patricia? I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you are thinking.” She saw Andrew look around and she added, “Don’t worry, she’s gone.”
“I didn’t really pick her,” said Andrew. “She just said she won. So did you.”
“She wasn’t really playing fair,” said Kris. “But you are right, I conceded.”
“I think if it had just been the kissing, you know. . .”
“You would have picked me?” teased Kris. “You are a lousy liar.”
Andrew shifted his feet. “I just got kind of excited, you know, when Patricia. . .”
“Maybe if we had kept going, and I had the chance to do what she was doing, it might have been a more even contest,” said Kris.
Andrew looked up, curious. “What do you mean?”
Kris was feeling adventurous. And she did feel badly about how they had left Andrew. “Come sit over here with me and I’ll explain it better.”
Andrew approached warily and sat down on the bed, glancing at the living room.
Kris got up and closed the bedroom door. “We shouldn’t talk so loud, I’d hate to wake Brin, she likes to sleep late on weekends.” She sat next to Andrew on the bed. “I feel badly for how we got you all excited last night, and then. . .”
“It’s okay,” said Andrew. “It was still one of the most amazing experiences I’ve ever had.”
Kris put her hand on Andrew’s knee. “What we were just talking about, I was wondering. . .”
“If we had just kept the contest to kissing?”
“Well, more about if I had another chance, after Patricia had kind of changed the rules.”
Andrew’s eyes widened, and before he could say anything, Kris leaned in for a kiss, not the kind of mouth attack that Patricia had used, but the kind of dreamy kiss she would give a man who she had woken up with, a man who she had been intimate with. Andrew barely hesitated and kissed her back. An easy, kind kiss, no longer a kiss driven by alcohol and the thrill of a contest.
Kris gently pushed Andrew onto his back, the smooth duvet whispering underneath, her lips following him. After a long moment, Kris whispered, “You are a very good kisser.”
“You are too,” said Andrew. “I wasn’t lying.”
“I know,” said Kris. She kissed him again, and this time, instead of breaking free when she sensed Andrew had reached another level, she guided his hand under her tee, along her thigh. Not onto her breasts; she didn’t want Andrew to be thinking of how small hers were compared to Patricia’s. But Andrew must have noticed her legs. . .
Andrew obviously had, because he gripped her thighs, his hands strong, stronger than Kris had expected. Kris shifted to make it clear to him that she wanted him, she wanted him to touch her, wherever he wanted. All the kissing from last night, and now, being alone with Andrew, had affected her too, she was already getting wet.
Andrew dragged his fingers across her pussy and she moaned, pushing into his fingers. His hand slipped under her panties and down, through her soft pubic hair, and Kris spread her legs slightly, and then Andrew’s hand was on her clit. Kris could feel her wetness, and she thrust her hips forward, her pussy grasping at Andrew’s fingers, and he was in her, so easy, her juices already flowing.
Kris reached down, her fingers grasping Andrew’s cock, stiff, pushing against his pants. “No fair,” she said. “You have all these clothes on.” She slid down the bed, unbuckling him quickly, pulling down his pants, yanking off his shoes. She moved the bulky duvet aside, then rolled Andrew on his side, laughing, to get him onto the sheet.
“One sec,” said Kris, after kissing Andrew again. She leaned over him and pulled open the nightstand drawer, and as she expected, found Patricia’s stash of condoms.
“Don’t go away,” she joked, turning toward the foot of the bed. She ripped open the condom wrapper, and as she was putting it on Andrew she felt his lips on reaching for her pussy. It felt wonderful, but wasn’t what she wanted just then. She turned around, pulling off her panties, and in one movement was sitting astride him. “Now,” said Kris, “let’s see how I would have done in the next round.”
Kris put her hands on Andrew’s shoulders and lifted herself up, poised over Andrew’s cock, letting it graze her clit, teasing him, teasing herself. Exactly like the kiss she had given him the night before. Giving him just enough, making him want more, making him lean in, lean forward, lift his hips. . .
She held out as long as she could, she wanted Andrew to want her, but she wanted it too, she was ready, more than ready, and when he next thrust forward she dropped herself down on him, her mouth on his, his cock ramming into her, and even though she was soaked she still felt herself forced open, that wonderful feeling of initial fullness, almost a rupture. And then she was fucking him, and he was fucking her, their hips moving in unison, their mouths locked.
Kris loved this, being on top, being taken, but doing the taking. In it together, doing it together, but with a sense of being in control, in charge. She broke the kiss and straightened up, balancing on her strong legs and using her hands to push against his chest, moving faster and faster, shifting her body to get his cock right there, up against her clit, back and forth, back and forth. . .
This was the fastest way she could come, and that’s what she wanted now, that’s what she needed, it wasn’t only Andrew who was worked up from last night. Everything had contributed to this, her getting dressed up, her looking good and knowing it, looking sexy, feeling sexy, feeling men’s eyes on her, wanting her, no longer caring about Patricia and her deviousness and her big tits, only about feeling good as a woman, and yes, winning the man, getting him excited, feeling him grow stiff beneath her, feeling his hard cock in her.
Her eyes were open, she liked watching the man she was fucking, seeing his breathing quicken, his nostrils flare, like a stallion, being used as a stud, not caring, he wanted this too. Then she felt it coming, strong, so wet, sometimes when she was in this position and really turned on she could even gush, squirt some of her pent up juices. . .
And she did, her eyes fluttering, feeling the power of her wetness, flooding out, her face flushing hot as her orgasm consumed her, her heart beating against her chest, wild, riding him, cumming on him.
Her strong, powerful thrusts had overwhelmed and beat out even Andrew’s excitement, she had made it happen, and now, almost spent, she collapsed on him, he
r face in his neck, kissing him, her way of thanking him for allowing her to have her way with him, to get her own pleasure. His cock was still moving, but Kris knew she was so wet now that he couldn’t have any friction, and so she pulled off, reaching for him at the same time, grabbing his cock as he slid out. She pivoted on his chest so she could have both hands on him, and she deftly removed the condom, all while continuing to stroke him, not wanting him to miss a beat, he deserved his as well.
Kris kissed the top of his cock, tasting a little of his precum, and then mouthed him. His balls were wet with her juices, she had really let loose, the bed was soaked too. She used her tongue around the head of his cock, still moving her hand up and down the shaft, and again felt Andrew reach for her with his mouth, but she pulled herself away, she was too wet. And she wanted this to be for him.
“Just relax,” she whispered, knowing that was impossible, not just for him, but for her, even though she had already come she was still excited, she loved getting a man this aroused, making him lose control. . .
She felt Andrew’s cock spasm and let go her mouth, she wanted to see it happen, to see the proof of her femininity, of his desire. Andrew cried out, the slit on his cock spread, and his first spurt shot so high and far it hit the duvet at the foot of the bed, and so did the second and the third, each shot thick and full, leaving an erotic trail of her success. Andrew’s cock quivered, still shooting, so much, all the buildup from the night before finally released.
As his ejaculations finally subsided, Kris wrapped her mouth around his cock, catching the last of him, milking him, accepting him, swallowing him.
With her mouth still on him, Kris smiled, feeling good. Feeling strong.
She finally let him go and lay next to him. “You can say it now.”
Andrew lay dazed, staring at the ceiling. “You won.”
“Really? Wouldn’t you have to give Patricia her turn?”
Andrew kissed her on the forehead. “No. It was a knockout.” He smiled. “You could claim the prize.”
“I already did.”