by Xavier Neal
Suddenly Arik yanks my head forward, bracing himself as best as can before he roars my name, “Ari!”
A rich, creamy stream flows down my throat, suffocating me with a rhapsodic feeling. Proud he's the one trembling this time, I continue to roll my tongue around, bathing him clean in a refusal to fritter away the smallest drop.
Finally his moans start to fade and I pop my eyes open to see him with his head dropped backwards against the couch. His jaw is slightly unhinged while his face is burning with exhaustion.
I drag my mouth off his cock and smirk. “You gonna survive?”
In a faint voice he sighs, “Give me a minute.”
Kissing my way up his stomach, I playfully question, “Just one?”
His chest vibrates against my mouth from his laughter. “Probably two...”
Once I've managed to crawl back into his lap, I wrap my arms around his neck and stare into the pair of eyes I know are going to be trouble.
A little trouble never hurt anyone. Okay, so we both know that's a lie, but a little trouble can be fun and that's something that's missing in my life for sure. Fun.
Arik
“I love the way you look on my cock.”
Becca pulls herself up from the head stand she is positioned in. With a giggle she throws her hands around my neck and sighs, “You're in a chipper mood.”
Helping her down to the ground, I smirk, “Am I?”
“For the past week, you've been acting like a virgin who got his penis touched for the first time,” she comments as she grabs a bottle of water.
What did you expect her to sound like? She's a rehearsal partner for a strip club. A high class place, but still. Prim and proper isn't typically our style. Though now that you bring it up, I look like hot shit in a penguin suit. You'll see in a couple months at Helen's event.
Folding my arms across my chest, I snap, “Exaggeration.”
“She's hittin' the nail on the head bro,” Chance joins the conversation. Bouncing his hand in the air with his words he adds, “Tap. Tap. Tap.”
They're full of shit. Maybe an extra smile here or there but not the bullshit they're trying to sell you. And before you ask me if it has anything to do with Ari, I'll fucking confess. It has everything to do with her. Saw her every night I didn't have to work last week and even slipped over when my shift ended Saturday. Damn near broke a huge portion of her furniture. Can't help it. We like it rough. While last week was filled with enough moans to make me nurse my vocal chords, we haven't met up this week. Basically, I'm living off the vibe of last week. Part of me fucking hates it. That's all the part of me I'm not getting along with at the moment. That's the part of me that has no problem admitting I wanna spend as much time with her as humanly possible. In other words? That's the punk bitch inside of me.
“You're on a total pussy high.”
Immediately I bite, “I'm not...That's...that's not even a thing.”
“It's a thing,” Chance corrects before downing his own bottle of water. “And you're on it.”
“It's cute,” Becca backs him.
“I'm not cute,” I gripe.
“Not when your forehead wrinkles like that.” Becca points as Chance laughs. “So, what's her name?”
“She doesn't have a name because there is no her.” When her mouth opens to argue, I snip, “You have a chair to be flipped around in. Are you done?”
Becca continues to tease me with a tap on the chest. “You must really like her.”
I do. I really fucking do. It's a growing problem. Part of me knows it'll pass. It always does. It's just....usually passed by now. That's gotta be what's throwing me off. I'll get over it and just enjoy fucking her rotten until I do. There's no need to pull my friends into something that's not gonna last longer than another week. And it won't. While I'm doing shit I don't normally do like cook dinner, give back rubs, and spend the night at her apartment, it doesn't mean it's not temporary. Why are you looking at me like I'm a moron?
“Come on love struck,” my dance partner jokes. “Flip me around to make yourself feel better.”
Chance chuckles and stops me before I walk away. “You're still comin' to the poker game tonight?”
“Yeah. Make sure you don't serve that brown dip shit.”
“It's humus, bro.”
“Yeah. None of that shit. That's not beer food.”
He winks. “But it's good for the body food.”
“Don't wink at me,” I grouse and head for Becca.
Ari is good for the body. Fucking soul too. Never met a girl who can make me laugh like her. Shit. No. Didn't say that bullshit out loud. She's a phase. A happy, sexy phase. She's fun. Fun is my style. Fun and a brief moment. That's all this is.
**
“You are the worst fucking poker player,” Brock barks tossing his cards. “You play this shit like it's Go Fish.”
“You mean Goldfish?” Chance tries to correct while collecting the cards to shuffle.
“The game is called Go Fish,” Zane, another prince at The Castle, reiterates.
There are five of us who come over here to Play Texas Hold 'Em every other week. It would be a lie to call us the original princes because that's only true for Brock, but we are currently the longest standing members. Ha. Pun intended. Okay, so it wasn't but it was still worth a smirk.
“I miss fishin' some times,” Hunter sighs, his country accent he hides well when necessary slipping out courtesy of beer five or seven.
How am I supposed to know how many he's had? I'm fucking estimating. I'm not his mother.
“Can we fucking focus on the cards?” Brock complains.
Chance stacks the cards. “You're extra pissy. What'd French do to you today? Another bachelorette party?”
Hunter leans back in his chair. “Why do you hate them? They're so much fun.”
“They bring in so much money,” Chance adds.
“We damn near bankrupted the last batch,” Hunter laughs to himself.
“Fuck this. I'm gonna get another drink,” Brock grunts and leaves the table abruptly.
Don't ask me. I don't get it. He's the last asshole I'd peg for this business. Body shape and definition aside, he's not a people person. The funny thing is he looks a lot happier when he's dancing. It's like whatever bullshit is on his mind that makes him damn near rip a building apart is gone. Eh. We all strip for different reasons. To each their own. I look good naked and it's fun. I'm easy.
“Now look what you did,” I mumble. “You pissed off the big bad beast even more.”
Zane chuckles and reaches for the beer he's been nursing like it's a newborn. “Doesn't take much.”
“You're one to talk,” Chance pokes.
He's an idiot. A blue eyed moron. Brock is a beast but Zane is king of the fucking jungle. Also a man of few words with the social skills of someone who hasn't had human contact in years. Helluva fucking dancer though. Plus, everyone knows chicks dig chocolate. Tell me I'm wrong. Really? A joke about how I'm into it too. Not clever.
“If you wanna keep your ability to talk, you'll back the fuck off,” Zane grunts with a vicious glare.
Chance shakes his head. “Such hostility is not good for my chi.”
“Bro, you can't say chi at a poker game,” I argue.
“You just did.”
“To tell you not to say it.”
“Arik's right,” Hunter backs me. “You can't say that shit at a poker game.”
“Could you get off his sac for once?” Chance snaps.
“Why? You never do,” Brock sneers and flops down back in his seat. “Now deal the fucking cards.”
My friends ladies. Believe it or not these irritating bastards are some of the most loyal people you'll ever meet.
Another few hands are played before Chance insists we break for food. The five of us crowd his kitchen devouring what he's offering and the shit in the fridge he isn't.
“Your hippie ass has to remember, some of us don't have a problem eating shit that o
nce had a face,” Hunter huffs snatching a slice of cheese pizza from behind me.
“By some of us, he means all of us,” I sigh. “Cheese pizza? What are we twelve year girls at a slumber party? Are you gonna offer to braid my hair next?”
Chance takes a bite of a baby carrot. “Maybe it's not about that. Maybe we should be watching what we put in our bodies. Heaven forbid we put on pounds in the wrong places.”
“You're such a chick,” Zane grumbles between handfuls of chips. “Is it that time of the month? Afraid you're gonna bloat?”
Chance chomps down on his carrot with a glower.
“It's a fair point, Zane. This shit is empty carbs, terrible sugars, and enough calories to feed a small army.” Hunter holds up a hand. “But on the other hand we work our asses off most of days of the week and like a little fun, Chance.”
Casually I say, “I vote someone else does the shopping and Chance pays for it.”
“Yes” Hunter instantly agrees. “That'll fix this shit.”
“You're all bitching over free food,” Chance whines. “I don't see anyone else trying to entertain you assholes.”
“We get paid to entertain women not each other,” Zane's comment gets a couple chuckles.
Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket tears my attention away from the pizza crust dangling out the corner of my mouth.
Ari: I wanna see you.
Huh? I'm not smiling. I'm just trying to keep the fucking crust in my mouth.
Me: Now?
Ari: The thong I had to take off because it was soaking wet from thoughts of you says yes.
Suddenly, I choke on the piece of crust I was trying to swallow. My loud cough catches the attention of the rest of the room. After a couple bangs of my chest, I toss the remainder of the crust back in the box.
“Gluten free isn't that bad, bro,” Chance scolds.
It actually wasn't. Doesn't mean he needs to know the real reason I was struggling to breathe.
With one more clearing of my throat, I announce, “I'm gonna bail.”
“Over fucking pizza?” Chance snaps.
“Over pussy,” Brock mumbles as he sucks something off his fingers.
I point a finger at him. “Ding. Ding.”
“It's that chick. The one that's had you on a pussy high,” Chance chortles leaning against the bar.
“That's not a real fucking thing.”
“That's a real thing,” Hunter disagrees. When I hit him with a displeased look he shrugs. “What! It is!”
“It's like being pussy whipped before being pussy whipped,” Brock explains. “Simple.”
That he finds simple?
Zane motions his hand for me to leave. “Take your pussy whipped in training ass out of here.”
I pull my keys out of my pocket. “Fuck you all very much.”
“Could you remove your leash and collar first? I don't speak lap dog,” Hunter's joke gets a laugh from everyone except me.
All this shit over some chick I'm fucking. No. It is just fucking. That's all it is. Really good, solid fucking. The other bullshit? I'm...I just...I'm clearly trying to secure this piece of ass on lock until I'm ready to part with it. See. Logic.
On my way back to my car, I text Ari my address and to let her know I'll meet her there.
Of course she hasn't been to my loft. I have a strict no chick I'm boning policy. I keep that shit at their place that way I never have to worry about the stress of them trying to over stay their welcome or move their shit in uninvited. I also avoid the awkward clothes left over from the last girl who thought she was going to be the final one. Oh! And of course I like having all shit intact at the end of the ‘this is over conversation’, which I typically do face to face. You break your shit and I get to come home to mine. I'm a wise man. Why am I letting her come over now? Well...shit. That's a damn good question. I don't know. I didn't even think about it. Whatever. She'll fuck and go home. Problem solved.
Getting off the elevator, my eyes immediately focus on the sight of Ari leaned against my loft door in a short beige trench coat and heels.
Ten bucks she's naked under that. Fuck...she's naked under that.
Nonchalantly, I adjust my growing hard on and approach her with a smile.
“Did I pull you away from something?” Ari pulls her dark brown wavy hair to one side of her face. “Or someone?”
With a crooked smirk, I shake my head and trap her between my arms. “Nothing important.”
She leans her lips closer to mine, leaving her body pressed against the door. “Good...”
Her tongue swipes at my bottom lip and I groan suddenly struggling to get the key in the door.
Ari giggles and locates her lips to my neck, sucking harshly while her fingertips graze my abs lightly underneath the edge of my shirt.
On a heated laugh I state, “Don't you give me another hickey.”
Thank you Google for the tips on covering that shit.
The tip of her tongue teases my ear lobe before she whispers, “You liked it.”
I fucking did.
Finally getting the door open, I lead us inside. After slamming it closed with the heel of my foot, I toss my keys on the table to left and tug at the tie of her coat. “Are you naked underneath?”
Instead of giving me a straight answer, she shrugs. “Find out yourself.”
With one more pull, her gorgeous naked body is exposed. My jaw unhinges itself at the sight.
I can honestly say I've never had a chick show up like this for me anywhere. Is this a perk of letting them come over to my place?
We continue moving until her ass hits the backside of my chocolate colored sectional. At her arrival, she sheds the coat, and smiles brightly.
“So it was more than your panties I soaked.”
Ari wets her lips before she questions, “No lights? No tour?”
I reply during the process of kicking off my shoes and pants in a haste, “Lights not needed.” Once I'm naked, my hands roam down her hips anxious to get inside her tight pussy, “Here's the couch. End of tour.”
She grins and flashes me a small square package I'm thankful I didn't have to dig out of my jeans.
See what happens when everyone's on the same fucking page. Ha. Fucking page. I did it again. Cheap shots are occasionally funny.
The moment it's rolled on, I hike her up onto the edge, push her body back so she's positioned the way Becca was earlier, except her head is resting on a couch cushion instead of the cold floor.
Fuck. She definitely looks better on my dick.
Without objection, she wraps her legs around my waist and I thrust sharply. Her pussy instantly clings onto my cock, welcoming it in the best way possible.
Definitely worth ditching poker for.
Bouncing her gently in this position, I use my thumb to help me bring her to the brink long before I can even see mine on the horizon. Helpless her body bucks at the touches while her mouth cries out a combination of my name and curses. All of sudden, Ari's pussy begins familiar slow pulsations. The sensation causes me to add a little extra pressure knowing she needs it to break.
“Come on my cock baby,” I encourage playfully. “I can take it.”
An orgasmic scream rips through her and I swiftly tug her body upward. With her arms wrapped around me, she continues to whimper and seize while I hold her tightly, still gently moving inside. Once she begins to wind down, I pick up the pace again, my cock desperate for more of her, more of those shivers. Desperate to be given the same chance to explode as she just had.
In a husky voice, I warn, “Hold on.”
Ari winds her arms tighter and plants her brown eyes in mine.
With my hands on her hips to keep her body in place, I bounce her relentlessly. The symphony of our groans is echoed by the sounds of my dick sliding in and out of her slick pussy. This time when her body arches into me, indicating she's about to come, I latch my mouth on to her neck. Ari's pussy responds to the bite by milking my cock with quivers st
rong enough to bring me to my knees. As she comes, so do I, teeth gnawing the information into her flesh at the same time her fingers tug at my hair.