Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016

by Miriam F. Martin

  And it just felt good to touch a man.

  To control him. To make him stay when she didn’t want him to leave.

  Kacy leaned forward. Eyes half closed.

  He didn’t pull away. The smell of his skin and hair was crisp.

  Closer. Lips nearly touching.

  Josh cupped her elbows. A strong grasp, barely touching her. Pulling her in a tad closer.

  She adjusted her hips.

  He cleared his throat. And straightened his shoulders.

  Kacy opened her eyes. Wondering why she was touching noses with him.

  And then he kissed her.

  Lips spreading lips. Tongues probing. A moan escaped. Sounded feminine. Must’ve come from her throat.

  Kacy pulled away. Hands flat on his chest. Her breathing was ragged.

  “No mixed signals there,” said Josh.

  “Bad decisions and all,” she said.

  “You sure about this?”

  “You keep asking that.”

  Kacy grabbed the back of his head by the hair. She pushed him down, into the couch.

  And kissed him.

  She straddled him, wiggling her hips against his bulging shorts. His mouth tasted hot, like a sultry day. Kacy wondered what the rest of him tasted like. She decided she wasn’t waiting too long to find out.

  But she could take her time on the couch.

  3

  She stood up once, pressing a palm firmly into his chest to make sure he knew to stay, and closed the curtains. Now the late evening sun was tinged red and came in a hazy line through the curtain gaps. The dog still snored on the carpet, but Kacy found it easy to ignore that. She was lost in Josh’s scent and touch. The way he grabbed her hips and bucked against her every so often, strong fingers pressed into her skin.

  Her body felt hot to the core, and she was fairly certain the air conditioning worked fine. Sweat beaded down her arms and legs. Underneath her, Josh burned up as well. His fingers wandered up her body, slow, methodical, touching her hips and waist in massaging circles.

  Higher up still.

  All the way up her spine. He massaged her shoulder blades, pulling her closer to his hot body. In a smooth motion, he untied her bikini top.

  Kacy yanked it away, her breasts bared to him completely. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Too many nights she put herself to sleep with a battery powered toy, imagining a situation like this. Now half naked—no, near naked—in front of a man she’d been fantasizing about for some time. None of her daydreams involved a pug snoring five feet away, but beggars aren’t choosers. And Kacy wasn’t a beggar.

  She grabbed a clump of his hair and leaned into his ear.

  “Come upstairs,” she whispered. “If you want to see more.”

  The playful ear to ear grin on his face was precious. Kacy tossed her bikini top at him, right over his eyes, and rolled off. Her inner thighs already burned from pinning him down for so long.

  She turned away, but didn’t get very far.

  Josh smacked her across the ass. He wrapped both hands around her waist, pinching in the delicate area, and pulled her back to his lap.

  Kacy fell across him haphazardly.

  He braced her neck and back in his strong arms.

  “I’m a terrible listener,” he said. “What were you saying about upstairs?”

  “At least you admit it,” Kacy said.

  “Huh?”

  She smacked him on the cheek. Hard enough to make a sound. Not enough to leave a handprint.

  A love slap.

  She stood, pushing off his chest and thigh. Unsteady on her feet. She didn’t turn around, trusting him to follow.

  Josh put his hand in hers.

  She led him up the stairs. Around the corner. Into the dark bedroom. Kacy told him to wait at the door, while she went to the night table and flicked on a light.

  He didn’t wait very long.

  The lamp light illuminated his face. The bedroom was mellow, dark enough to see. Josh wrapped an arm around her waist.

  His other hand glided up her torso. Cupping her breast. Thumb playing with the nipple.

  Kacy leaned into him, arms around his shoulders. He kissed. She probed his mouth with her tongue.

  And pulled away. Out of his reach.

  A wicked, wicked smile graced her lips. She grabbed his shorts.

  Unzipped, and pulled down both the cargo shorts and boxers.

  His cock popped free. Aroused, but not fully erect yet.

  Kacy wanted to change that.

  She went down on her knees. His manhood was crowned by a close cropped patch of pubic hair.

  Just the tip first. A taste. Josh throbbed between her lips.

  Sliding down further, careful to not to scrape her teeth on him.

  Down, down. Near the base. She breathed through her nose, eyes closed.

  Kacy massaged his balls. Josh tasted wonderful. Far too long since she’d experienced a man like this.

  He grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging Kacy to her feet.

  And then pushed her onto the bed.

  Josh tore away her bikini bottom. The last shred of her modesty.

  Kacy touched her clit. Her pussy was wet, dripping. She hadn’t realized it.

  She hadn’t realized how much modesty had been tossed out the window to get this man into her bedroom.

  Her legs were wide open for him. So were her arms.

  The penetration was sweet and gentle. Her pussy stretched. And tightened around him.

  Josh hit her G-spot. A flood of pent up frustration washed across her body.

  The headboard rattled. The box spring squeaked. Josh kept pounding, lost in his own lust.

  Words formed on her lips. Nonsense to her own ears.

  Begging.

  Pleading.

  Kacy was helpless under him.

  She wanted desperately for him to go faster. To blow his load inside her.

  She wanted to pinch his nipples and make him turn onto his back.

  So she could fuck him as hard as she pleased.

  For now, this time, she reveled in the loss of control in her own bedroom. Her own private space where she commanded her orgasms with electric toys.

  This time, tonight, his hot and sweat covered body pressed against hers.

  Josh rocked her senseless. His rod pumped her wet pussy, making squishing noises.

  Legs wrapped around him, Kacy bucked against his thrusts.

  Faster.

  Harder.

  More violent.

  Her moans loud. Josh grunted.

  Kacy slowed her motions down. An orgasm overtook her.

  A gushing.

  Painful, exquisite release. Starting in her pussy, ending in her toes and fingers. Kacy’s entire body glowed. She dug her nails into his skin.

  But Josh pumped faster against her. She was near numb, and exploding with sensations.

  Hot. Cold. Wet pussy. Dry mouth.

  He pulled out of her. His face scrunched, lost in his own orgasm. Josh’s cock exploded. Hot, sticky cum slicked across her abdomen. She wondered if he would ever stop coming.

  When he did, he fell on top of her, and made out with her. Josh fell asleep soon after, in her arms, and Kacy allowed herself to join him.

  Her last thoughts before drifting off were fantasies of how she’d be on top next time.

  When she woke, a dog barked downstairs, and the front door closed shut. A note was on the bed side table, scrawled in sloppy handwriting.

  See you tomorrow night? -J.

  He left his phone number as well.

  The day was going to be far too long.

  Kacy hoped the next night would be even longer.

  THE GLOWING SATISFACTION OF PANCAKES

  1

  Kyle mixed the batter. The coffee maker chugged and gurgled, the dark roast aroma bringing a smile to his face as he made breakfast for two. Bacon sizzled on the griddle. A bowl of fresh strawberries, cantaloupe, and honey melon sat at the nook next to a
whipped cream can.

  Already nine in the morning. The sports news played on the TV in the background. He’d wasted enough time, reading and watching the news. The mornings of his days off were always the slowest.

  Sleepy-head upstairs would be down soon enough.

  Karen had kept him up late at night, in the hopes he’d sleep in like a “normal person.” Bless her heart, she tried. He was a little tired, but completely and utterly wide awake.

  He couldn’t help it. He was a morning man.

  Since they moved in together, they developed an understanding. He woke up at six whether he needed to go to work or not, and kept the noise down so she could sleep. She burned the midnight oil playing video games, with or without him.

  Right above his head, something fell from the bed. The weak spot in the floorboards creaked under the pitter-patter of her feet. The toilet flushed. Her electric toothbrush vibrated.

  Kyle set out two glasses of orange juice.

  The feet clunked down the stairs. To be small boned and only five-four, Karen made a lot of noise.

  He was washing dishes when she strolled into the kitchen. She greeted him with a hard smack on the ass.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” said Kyle.

  “Yup,” she said, throat raspy. Karen opened the fridge and stared inside. She wore her pink fluffy robe, tied just enough to reveal her flat bosom.

  He didn’t care for her padded bras, much preferring her teacup sized boobs the way they were. But she thought her bras made her look sexy, and Kyle was smart enough not to argue.

  “Juice on the counter.” He pointed to the nook.

  “Ugh, huh,” she said, slamming the fridge door shut. She shambled over to the nook and chugged her glass of juice. She sucked in a breath through her nostrils, stood in a tree pose, and slammed back his glass too.

  “Coffee’s about ready.”

  “Good.”

  He poured her a cup and mixed in cream the way she liked it.

  Color flushed to her cheeks when she brought the cup to her lips and drank. Karen’s face glowed. For her, caffeine was an aphrodisiac.

  More precisely, a means to squeezing in more sex after work and after the sun went down. She had to work off the excess energy from video games somehow, or so she told him often enough.

  “How do you do it?” Karen said.

  “Say what?” he said, hiding behind his own mug.

  “I fuck you three ways silly last night. And yet you’re up at the ass-crack of dawn. How do I defeat you?”

  Kyle shrugged. “Precision and grace?” The first reference to one of her favorite games, that he could think of.

  “Fuck you!” Karen threw a kitchen rag at him. Square in the face. He caught it one handed, but only after it fell past his hips.

  “Glad you’re in a good mood this morning,” he said.

  “And if I was in a bad mood?” she said.

  “Run for shelter?” He turned his back to her and poured batter on the griddle.

  “Oh, I’d find you.”

  The sunlight now came in through the window, entirely too bright. A crisp stream of light that made a rainbow in his kitchen sink. He closed the blinds. The room darkened only slightly. But at least the sun couldn’t peep in.

  “You already done with your first?” he said.

  “Yes, please.” She pushed her coffee cup towards him. Half gone. He freshened it anyway, taking the opportunity to glance down at her half open robe. Karen thanked him profusely and took a careful sip.

  Kyle flipped the pancakes. “Any plans? You know. Day off and all.”

  “Oh, I have plans,” Karen twiddled her fingers together like a cute mad genius.

  “And you’ll let me know?”

  “Soon as my belly is full.”

  A minute later, Kyle handed her a short stack with two crispy pieces of bacon. Karen dabbed a smidgen of butter on the top pancake, and then flooded the plate with syrup. Then she piled a handful of fresh fruit and whipped cream on top of everything.

  Kyle sat down next to her with his own plate of bacon and pancakes.

  “More joe, please.” She placed her cup next to his. The coffee pot sat within arm’s reach of both of them.

  “I think you need to slow down, short-round,” Kyle said.

  “I’ll flash a boob if you pour me coffee.”

  “We have a deal!”

  He poured coffee, one eye on what he was doing, one eye on what she was doing. As best he could, at any rate.

  Spilled not a drop.

  Karen pulled back one side of her pink robe. Just enough for Kyle to spot the pink nipple crowning the tiny mound. He reached out to cop a feel. The fuzzy robe tickled the end of fingers…

  She slapped his hand away.

  “I said nothing about touching,” she said.

  “I was sure you did,” said Kyle.

  “Nope.”

  “What’s it cost to touch?”

  Karen shoved a bite full of pancake into her mouth and chewed slow. She made the appearance of thinking—thumb under chin, eyes pointed up, cute dimples in her cheeks.

  He was certain she’d never answer.

  “Look, buddy,” she said at last. Karen drank some coffee. “I worked damn hard last night. All for naught, apparently. You can let a girl eat.”

  “What do you want to eat?” Kyle said, lifting an eyebrow and winking.

  “Pancakes.” Karen back-hand slapped him and turned away. “Seriously, I’m hungry.”

  “Me too.”

  “Good.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, shut up already.”

  Kyle and Karen ate, mostly in wicked silence. He glanced at her, she at him. They washed away the taste of syrup with cantaloupe.

  He fed her one last piece of fruit. And then he picked up her plate.

  “Leave it,” said Karen. She stood, loosening the robe. “Come into the living room.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll show the cost of touching.” Karen picked up the can of whipped cream.

  2

  Kyle got towels from the upstairs bathroom and hurried back down. His girlfriend was spread out on the couch, hands behind her head, feet crossed. The whipped cream sat on the coffee table.

  The drapes were drawn shut tight. Scented candles burned over the mantlepiece. One might’ve been hickory. The other was almost certainly the lavender one he bought for her birthday. He never could be certain of scents.

  Karen wiggled her toes at him.

  He stood in the doorway, towels under one arm, erection already popping up. How could he be in the mood after last night?

  “What’s the price?” he said. “For touching.”

  “You’ll see,” said Karen. She didn’t move. The image of pure laziness. Well deserved, he might add.

  “You don’t even know, don’t you?”

  “I like to make this up as I go.”

  “So I’ve noticed lately.”

  “You don’t approve?” She sat upright, as if doing a sit-up. The robe slipped, revealing her creamy skin. Her tone was serious, high pitched a bit. He had no idea if she were teasing him.

  “If I didn’t?”

  Karen smirked, and lifted her chin. “You like it. Say it.”

  “I like it very much.”

  “Say my name.”

  “Now you’re being silly.”

  She pulled the robe tight across her bosom and crossed her arms. The pout on her face was to die for. Innocent and wicked at the same time.

  “Karen.”

  “You give up too easy.”

  “Guess I’m easy like that.”

  Karen crossed her legs under her. Indian style, like they used to call in school.

  Kyle tossed the towels on the edge of the sofa. He remained standing, hands crossed in front of him.

  “Well don’t be,” she said. “I’ll get bored.”

  “Don’t want that.” He wanted to follow up with some snarky response. Nothing came to mind, so
he remained silent. And waited for Karen to take the lead. Something she excelled at. “Tell, what’s the price?”

  “Now you’re jumping ahead of yourself,” said Karen. “You have another price to pay entirely.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m cold.” She shrugged her shoulders high and hugged herself. The room temperature was perfectly fine. Kyle was a little warm, if anything.

  He suspected the warmth had nothing to do with the heat kicking in or the air conditioner not working. His erection had gone down, back to normal. From the glance downward, he guessed Karen had noticed.

  She made him warm. The way she looked at him. The posture she was in, like a princess waiting to be waited on. The damned candles got to his head, making him feel woozy.

  No. Not woozy. This was different, and he’d experienced it plenty of times around Karen. Now they’d been together for a year, and lived in the same house for the last month.

  His girlfriend had an uncanny way of making him feel small. Despite her short stature and wiry frame. She had a strong chin and a big nose. Patrician. People who didn’t know her, assumed she was arrogant. Or stuck up.

  Kyle knew better.

  She volunteered at the animal shelter. Wanted to adopt cats, but patiently waited for the “right one” to need a home. She generously loaned money to friends, and never expected to paid back. She was shrewd at business, and gave to charity.

  “What are you staring at?” Karen said.

  Kyle got down on his knees. He took both her hands in his. Her finger bones were so small and delicate compared to his rough hands. The nails were painted bright red, the skin satin smooth except for the left fingertips, the guitar calluses.

  He kissed her knuckles.

  “That’s a start,” she said.

  “How much debt do I have to go?”

  “Don’t think about that. Think about what you’re going to do to me.”

  “With pleasure. Might have to stop thinking though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Too much thinking, I’ll stop doing.”

  He kissed her wrist. The fuzzy robe tickled his nose. He sneezed, turning his head away just in time.

  “That was sexy,” he said. He pushed the sleeve up her arm.