by Meg Ripley
I focused on her mouth, on her tits, teasing her, kissing and licking and sucking, tasting the sweat and soap on her skin, breathing in the smell of her perfume. Allie managed to get my pants down to my knees, and I kicked them off the rest of the way, almost tripping over them as I started to pull her towards the bed. I kissed her hungrily, letting my hand slip up between her legs, until I felt the slick wet folds of her pussy against my fingers. I rubbed and stroked her, working down deeper between the labia, and I knew the instant I found her clit by the way she gasped and shivered against me.
We fell into bed together, and for a while it was like we were both too shy to actually go through with what we wanted; we just kept kissing each other, me working Allie with my fingers, her rubbing my cock, stroking me up and down, her thumb swirling around the tip of my erection. I could feel myself getting harder and harder by the minute, more and more turned on as Allie worked me, speeding up and slowing down just as I did, teasing me just like I was doing to her.
All at once I couldn’t stand it anymore; I knew if I let her keep going, I was going to come in her hand--and that wasn’t what I wanted. I pinned Allie down onto the bed, slithering on top of her, and claimed her mouth with mine as I shifted down between her legs. She was soaking wet, and I wanted to feel her tight heat wrapped around my cock so bad I could just about taste it. I took a deep breath when I broke away from her lips, trying to get enough self-control to keep from hitting climax right away, and guided the tip of my cock up against her pussy, rubbing along her hot, wet folds for a few heartbeats before I started to slide in.
Her muscles flexed around me and I heard her breathy little cry just under the sound of my own moaning. Allie wrapped her legs around my waist and I pushed deeper and deeper inside of her, filling her up inch by inch, until my hips were right up against hers. “I’ve missed this,” I told her in a little whisper, almost shuddering at the strain of holding back.
“God, me too,” Allie said, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, her fingertips pressing against my skin. I took a quick breath and started moving, rocking my hips against hers, pulling out just an inch--maybe two--and sliding back in. Like magic, Allie fell right in with my beat, twisting her hips against mine, pushing down to meet my thrusts. I knew--absolutely knew--that I wasn’t going to last very long, the way she felt and how long it had been since we’d last fucked. But I was going to make every minute I could last count.
I started out so slowly it almost made my balls ache, holding myself back, feeling Allie’s inner walls tightening around me even as she somehow managed to get wetter and wetter. But in what seemed like only a few minutes, I found myself speeding up, thrusting harder and faster inside of her, kissing her everywhere my lips could reach. The sound of Allie’s moans and gasps and cries of pleasure was enough to drive me crazy--enough to make me almost want to abandon any idea of holding back at all. I tried to slow down a few times, but I couldn’t keep it up; I had to keep going.
All at once the tension building up down deep between my hips just snapped, and I groaned out as wave after wave of pleasure crackled through my body like live electricity. I heard Allie crying out again and again, felt her muscles flexing around me in erratic little spasms, and tried to keep myself going for her sake, to give her the longest climax possible. Before too long, though, I could feel myself finishing, the last little jolts of orgasm shocking my nerves, leaving me completely spent--at least for about five minutes. I collapsed down onto the bed next to Allie, letting my arms and legs tangle with hers, panting and gasping for breath just like she was.
“Was that good enough?” I pushed my sweaty hair out of my face and opened my eyes to look at the woman I had nearly lost.
“It’s a good start,” Allie said, with the little grin I liked so much. “But you’d better have dessert for me as well as a repeat performance.”
“Oh--fuck, I almost forgot,” I said, shaking my head and laughing. “I have dessert. Give me a minute to catch my breath.” I kissed her on the cheek sloppily, and then on the forehead, and then on the lips, and sank back down onto the bed, waiting for my heart to slow down, for my breathing to even out.
When I was recovered enough to be able to use my legs, I crawled out of the bed and gave Allie another quick grin on my way to the bedroom door. I padded across the living room and into the kitchen, and opened the fridge to look for the treat I’d gotten earlier that day. The Hoffman’s Chocolates box jumped out at me from everything else on the same shelf, and I picked it up, taking just a second to glance inside and make sure that my surprise for Allie was perfectly intact still.
I carried the box with me back into the bedroom and found Allie half-sitting up at the head of the bed, bright-eyed and smiling. She saw the box in my hands and the smile deepened. “Oooh, what did you get us?”
“Chocolate covered strawberries, and a few of the dipped Oreos,” I told her. I sat down on the bed and opened the box up, extending it towards Allie. She immediately plucked one of the strawberries, and I watched her face as she closed her eyes and bit into it; the sound of the moan that left her throat was as good as it was during sex--and it started me right back up. Plenty of time in the night still, I reminded my cock, setting the box down between Allie and me and picking out a chocolate-dipped Oreo for myself.
“This is definitely at least as good as anything we could have gotten at Houston’s,” Allie said around a mouthful of chocolate and strawberry. She leaned in close and kissed me on the lips, and I could taste the sweet-tart strawberry, the bittersweet chocolate, the taste of her.
“Damn straight,” I said. “Besides, at Houston’s we couldn’t combine dessert and sex.”
“You are not putting an Oreo in my pussy, just so we’re clear,” Allie said. I snorted and almost had Oreo crumbs in my nose.
“Not what I was thinking, but I’ll keep that in mind,” I told her. I kissed her again. “Have another strawberry and then let’s get back down to it--we have lost time to make up for.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I stubbed out my cigarette in the almost full ashtray and looked around the green room back behind the festival main stage. Nick and Olivia had wandered off, and Mary still wasn’t letting Alex stray too far from her side, but things felt mostly pretty good. We were going to be playing the headline spot for the second night--not the biggest honor, which would go to The Strokes the next night, but it was a pretty good billing for Molly Riot, especially considering we’d nearly self-destructed less than a year before.
I spotted Allie, chatting with one of the members of Hop Along with her camera around her neck on its strap, just hanging there for the moment. It was early days yet for our promotion stint for the new album, but when Mary had insisted that she should come on the road with us for Alex’s sake--to keep him on the straight and narrow--I’d pulled rank and gotten Allie included. The only Molly Riot girlfriends who hadn’t come along were Fran and Sophie; Fran because she had her own band to worry about and Sophie because she couldn’t--and didn’t want to--justify taking time off of work.
There had been grumbles about that, but in the end, we’d all sort of concluded that girlfriends on the tour bus weren’t as bad as we used to think, especially considering the fact that Nick and Olivia and Fran and Jules had originally hooked up on previous tours. It meant more money out of pocket, but the album was already selling well enough to make that less of a concern, especially since we weren’t doing anything particularly expensive with the lighting effects onstage.
Allie had sort of become the unofficial band chronicler, working with Olivia; they got along so well on their first project that Nick and I had joked that they were going to leave us for each other eventually. Olivia had gotten Allie some more work in journalism, and of course Allie was getting one quarter of Alex’s shares of the album sales.
“Yo!” I looked around, shaken out of my thoughts by the sound of Jules’ voice. “We’re supposed to talk about the set list soon--don’t forget.” I nodded. On
e of the things that had come out of the near-breakup of Molly Riot was that every member of the band had a particular thing that they were in charge of. We’d decided not to leave so much up to Ron or the label anymore--that had been a big thing that had sneaked up on us, that had made us all dissatisfied. So, Jules was in charge of managing shit at tour dates, Nick handled press, Dan worked on the website, I did merchandise, and Alex was the chosen representative to deal with the label--it was what he did best, anyway.
Allie caught sight of me and finished up her conversation, smiling at whoever it was and waving as she turned and walked towards me. She lifted her camera up as she came closer, and before I could even think about posing in any way, she’d snapped a quick, candid picture of me. “It really isn’t fair how naturally photogenic you are,” she told me, coming to sit down next to me on the raised part of the concrete floor; it had probably been a ramp at one point, I’d decided, but it didn’t seem to lead anywhere anymore.
“I think it’s all your talent in picking the exact right moment,” I told her, shaking my head. “I’ve taken plenty of awkward-ass pictures of myself.”
“I’ve already managed to get enough shots of different people hanging around backstage to make a few thousand,” Allie told me, stretching just enough to lift the hem of her tee shirt up. “The rest of today I can just hang out and drink and have a good time.”
“Funny how your day ends before mine even begins,” I said, reaching over to tweak one of Allie’s braids.
“Well, I mean, if it makes you feel better I can keep working the rest of the day into tonight, make some more money,” Allie pointed out tartly.
“Come with me to our green room, at least,” I suggested. “Get a few snaps of us debating tonight’s set list.” Things were not entirely tension free between Allie and Alex, but with Mary playing chaperone, they’d started to relax a bit.
All in all, it looked like we’d finally come out of the rough patch we’d put ourselves into. I lit another cigarette and hopped down from the former ramp, and gave Allie a quick kiss. I couldn’t have imagined, at the beginning of recording the album, that everything would fall into place as perfectly as it had: I had a woman I loved, I had an open invitation to work with Bent Bridges whenever I had the free time, and Molly Riot were better, bigger, and stronger than ever. I held Allie’s hand all the way to the green room, and thought to myself that--sappy as it sounded--I was probably one of the happiest fucking guys at the entire festival.
THE END
Taken By The Hometown Bad Boy
Ten long years, and here I am back in my hometown of Riverdale.
The plan was to swoop in, make a quick appearance at my lame high school reunion and then get out as quickly as possible.
Fate had something else in store for me, and his name was Jace Dillinger, the hottest bad boy in town.
In high school, I gave him the cold shoulder because of the crowd he hung out with.
He wasn't my type back then, but now...it’s funny how time changes people.
Here we are catching up at a townie bar having a few drinks...what trouble could we possibly get into? ;)
The first thing Natalia Hyde noticed when her taxi drove her past the sign that said, ‘Welcome to Riverdale,’ was that everything seemed exactly as it had been the day she left. The streets were all the same, the lovely suburban arrangement of roundabouts that had been fun to ride around on bikes. The twenty-eight-year-old had expected to find some changes, maybe expansions or even a few changes on a few stores but nothing… it was as if someone had grabbed a huge remote control and pressed pause on the whole town.
The only viable change that Natalia noticed was that people were older, and the kids now running around the parks and streets had faces she didn’t recognize.
The taxi drove her toward the town’s only known hotel, a measly Hilton Garden Inn at the edge of the highway. She remembered seeing this same little place for years and was pleasantly surprised to note that it looked like it had been renovated. It was much bigger than she remembered.
Paying her fare and pulling her bag out of the back of the car, Natalia strutted through the mechanical doors, feeling a cool draft yank at her clothes and long black hair as she entered. It was definitely different; maybe that pause button didn’t affect everything after all.
When Natalia entered the lobby, she was surprised to find it rather busy; several people were talking with the concierge, a young woman with thick blonde hair styled in large ringlets. She looked rather out of her league, appearing absolutely nervous as she assisted a man with immense shoulders. The back of his head had a particularly large scar that Natalia recognized instantly.
“Brad?” She spoke before she could hold her tongue and the broad man turned around. There was a moment when he appraised her, broad face and broad eyes that gave him a certain brutish appearance. Still, she remembered him, he had been one of Nathan’s friends throughout high school. A jock and a pretty decent football player, Brad had been the sort to follow rather than to lead, yet he had a hidden cruel side that only came out whenever Nathan had grown bored.
To her surprise, Brad beamed up at her brightly. “Natalia!” he exclaimed, urging her closer and glaring at all the other people waiting in line. She recognized a few other faces and instantly wished she hadn’t brought attention to herself. Most of the people there had seen some of Nathan’s bored side and remembered her for how she just stood by, doing nothing.
“It’s been years,” Brad insisted as Natalia approached. “You’ve grown taller!”
“My last growth spurt since high school,” Natalia replied dryly. She was only wearing platforms but leave it to Brad not to notice. “You haven’t changed much yourself.”
“I’ve been working as an engineer,” Brad announced, puffing his chest. “Nathan helped me get the job actually.” At the mention of her brother, Natalia perked up and met Brad’s gaze curiously.
“You’ve seen Nathan?”
“Yeah, I bumped into him about four years ago. He kind of helped me get out of my parent’s basement before allowing me to find a spot in the city. I haven’t seen him since, though.” Deflated, Natalia felt her shoulders slump slightly. Everything had hit the fan eight years ago…tensions that could no longer be tolerated in that small house exploded so thoroughly, that it resulted in all of them going their separate ways. Once upon a time, Natalia had been exceptionally close to her twin, practically playing along to the silly stereotype that all twins were halves of the same whole.
Four years ago was around the same time he sort of just disappeared; since then, Natalia hasn’t really stopped searching. Brad helped her check in with the concierge, giving the woman a nasty look when she tried to make Natalia wait at the back of the line. Paying for the next few nights, Natalia received her room key and prepared to walk off.
“Hold on,” Brad called with a wave. Natalia felt a touch of disdain when he jogged up to catch up to her. “Our rooms are pretty close together. I’ll walk you there.”
Shrugging, Natalia tuned Brad out as he continued to speak about his life since he left Riverdale, focusing more on the path to her room and finding a good point in the conversation to brush him off. Eventually, they arrived at their rooms and when she began to slide her card into the slot, she noticed he was hovering.
“Bye, Brad,” Natalia said, fixing him a certain glare that he had responded to well enough in the past. He didn’t leave, though. Brad gave her a soft smile, leaning against the door frame with a confidence she hadn’t expected.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to keep you company, Natalia?” Brad asked suggestively. “I’m actually rather good in bed.”
Snorting with disgust and some surprise, Natalia slipped her door open. “No, thanks. Bye, Brad.”
“Oh, come on, give me a chance!”
She didn’t spare him another glance before she pushed inside her room, slamming the door right in his face with finality. Brad may have been a bumbling gi
ant back in high school, and while he had been pretty happy to jump into crueler plans, he lacked nerve when he didn’t have someone to shove him around. Natalia wasn’t interested in filling the role Nathan had had back in high school.
She remained holed up in her bedroom for a few hours, focusing on completing a few spreadsheets for work and ordering room service for dinner. She wasn’t interested in meeting up with anyone anytime soon. Of course, staying holed up in an unfamiliar space for any period of time was enough to make anyone claustrophobic. So, after changing her wardrobe and tying her long, dark hair into a low ponytail, Natalia snuck out of her room and headed out of the hotel. The last thing she needed was to bump into another familiar face, but she needed a drink.
****
There was only one good watering hole in the town—a rickety pub named Arty’s that was well known to harbor the town’s unfavorable idiots and village drunkards. She was pretty sure whoever was there would be too drunk to notice her and so she made her way there. Of course, it took her some time to reach the damn place. Without a car--and the streets bare of taxis--Natalia was forced to follow the sidewalk with downcast eyes and an easy gait.
It only took about fifteen minutes until she found herself staring up at that silly red neon sign over the pub. Natalia had spent a few evenings in this place’s parking lot, attempting to study in the back of her brother’s pick-up while they passed around beers, jeering at incoming pub-goers. She had better luck studying with Nathan nearby and had grown tired of staying around their house whenever their parents had an argument.
She was such an apathetic person back then, and following this town’s doomed capacity to never change, Natalia seemed to be caught in the same loop. With a grunt, she headed inside the pub, grimacing at the stench of alcohol and foul body odor. Yep. Hasn’t changed a bit.