by Lily Vixen
Except… he didn’t.
After I’d said I wanted to see his place, something flashed over his face. It was gone too quick for me to get a handle on it, but it looked almost… pained.
And then he just kind of sagged.
“This is it?” I ask, glancing down either end of the long corridor.
Don’t get me wrong, I can tell this place is posh. My dad must be paying him fucking well for him to afford an upper-class joint like this. But I’m surprised at how tasteful the place is. The apartment block is a ten-minute subway ride from my dad’s office. There was a doorman to let us in —didn’t he throw me the stinkeye when he saw me — and a large, quiet elevator to take us up.
Josh takes a pair of keys from his briefcase and opens the door. He stands aside and for a moment I forget that I have to go in first.
It’s dark inside.
Josh closes the door behind me. I hear his shoes on the tiles and feel the air stirring around me.
Is he going to grab me from behind?
There’s this moment, this long… stifling moment, where I can imagine him doing just that…
And then the place blooms with light.
“Well, there it is.” His voice sounds tight.
Why? Was he nervous about what I’d think? This place was gorgeous! A little minimalistic for my taste — it could really use some shag carpeting and a few colorful throw pillows — but if he decorated this place, then he’s got some serious taste.
Or he’s gay.
Shit, I didn’t even consider that.
That would make a lot of sense.
God, maybe it wasn’t me he had a boner for…
I turn around, staring up at Josh as the thought takes root in my mind.
Ick.
Joshua
Would these fantasies never end? Would I, from this day forward, be cursed to witness these hedonistic plays in my head? Each starring me and Alexa… and for some reason, a distorted version of my bedroom.
She turns around.
I don’t like the expression on her face. I’ve seen many tonight — surprise, caution, joy, irritation, playfulness — but none like this.
She looks… disgusted.
Wow, did the guy I paid to decorate this place do such a bad job?
I force my gaze past her, trying to scan my apartment with new eyes. It’s not that difficult — most of the time I’m here is spent sleeping — but I can’t seem to find what she finds so reprehensible—
“Oh my God,” she says, taking a step back. “I totally get it now.”
“I’m sorry?”
It’s that coffee table, isn’t it? All glass and steel. It looks so barren, now that I study it. The whole place, actually. I should have asked that guy to put in a rug or—
“You’re gay, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry, what?” My briefcase thumps to the floor. I lift a hand to my breast, suddenly realize that might look too effeminate, and bunch it into a fist at my side instead.
“You’re gay.” She nods, crossing her arms over her chest as she lets out a soft laugh. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
“I’m… I’m not gay,” I manage through a throat that feels as if it’s being strangled.
“Yeah? So you just do your hair like that because you think it looks good?” She waves a hand in the direction of my head.
I reach up, running self-conscious fingers over my slicked back hair. I’d seen this style on one of the execs a year or two ago. Thought it looked professional. Did it really—
“And this place? You didn’t spend twenty-bazillion hours on Pinterest looking up decor tips?”
She spins around, waving that same hand over my place as if she’s sprinkling fairy dust over everything.
Which, apparently, it didn’t need.
My chest tightens. I make a noise — something between a growl and a groan — as I try and force words of protest from my mouth.
But she’s just standing there, shaking her head at my things, laughing softly to herself. “I should’ve known.”
Calm down, Josh. Damn it, Joshua! Joshua. Calm down.
I manage a breath, but it’s anything but calm. It’s almost a snort.
How dare she come into my home — not because I invited her here, but because she blackmailed her way in — and then stand there accusing me of something that—
I’m walking forward, stomping really, before I even realize I’ve moved.
Alexa, perhaps sensing a change in the atmosphere, turns around. Her dark eyes go wide, her lips parting, perhaps in a scream, perhaps in a shout.
I wouldn’t know which because, right then, I kiss her.
And I kiss her damn hard.
Alexa
I manage a gasp before Josh is right up against me. The heat of his body washes over me like a furnace. Perhaps I hadn’t noticed it before, or perhaps he’d never been close enough for it to affect me, but right now it feels like I’m standing in front of a baking oven, watching muffins rise.
Our mouths crash together. His lips are dry and warm against mine.
Then his hands grab my shoulders, pinning me before I can take a step back. I struggle, but more from shock than an attempt to break free.
He moves his lips against mine, wetting them with our saliva as he draws at me. And all I can do is stand here like a rag doll, dangling limply from his hands as he forces his tongue between my teeth.
I moan, squirm again.
This time, it’s to try and get my arms up.
But he seems intent on drawing the last air from my lungs and leaving me a withered husk on the floor.
I’ve never been kissed like this. Not with this much passion, this much aggression. I think he’s bruised my lips, kissing me so hard.
I finally manage to shake my shoulders free. My hands run up the front of his suit, sliding beneath his lapels and then over his shoulders.
He pushes into me. Pushes his dick against me.
It’s fucking rock hard.
Joshua
I step into her, forcing her back a step. She does taste like watermelon gum. And tequila. And ketchup. Her mouth is so wet, so sweet, so responsive. I almost think this is just another fantasy, another film strip playing in my mind while I’m jacking off in the Golden Goose’s bathroom — maybe I never left — but then my fingertips touch her throat.
Her skin is satin, warm, slightly moist. She’s sweating. Because of me? Or is the heat in my apartment turned up too much? I can never tell. I can feel her flickering pulse under my fingertips.
God, my dick is straining to get out of my pants. I shove it into her stomach, trying to drive her back from the door — to the couch, to my bedroom, anywhere — but she’s resisting me.
Her hands slide under my suit. I realize she’s trying to take it off, but I don’t want to stop touching her skin. Eventually, she makes an annoyed sound in the back of her throat — I can feel those vibrations on my lips — and shoves against me.
We crash into the wall beside my door, knocking my phone’s receiver from its hook. Though the sound is distant, that shock jars my hands from her throat, and when I bring them back to her, they encircle her breasts instead.
She moans into my mouth when my fingers glide behind her vest to cup her. That moan turns into a groan when I rub her nipples between thumb and forefinger.
“Jacket,” she breathes into my mouth, giving a hard tug at my suit.
I dip my shoulder, relinquishing my grip on those firm, hand-sized mounds with deep reluctance. My suit slides off and lands in a pile by my feet. She surges into me, pinning me to the wall as her hands explore my chest and stomach.
Our lips meet again, resuming that first, ravenous kiss with just as much enthusiasm as before.
Her taste changes, becoming minty and even sweeter. Her tongue finds its way into my mouth, and for a moment I can only try and breathe as she takes ownership of that kiss and forces me to submit to its erotic powers.
A
lexa
Oh, God. I can’t believe how turned on I am right now. I can feel wetness pooling between my legs. My pussy aches, teased awake by the feel of Josh’s hard on against my belly. He’s pushing me back now, backing me up, tugging my clothes as his hands slide over my arms, my back, my ass, my thighs.
Something hard digs into my side — the breakfast nook’s counter. I gasp, accidentally breaking off our scorching kiss.
My eyes flutter open and, for a moment, we just stare at each other. Josh’s mouth is parted, his breath coming as hard and fast as mine.
Something — concern? — flickers on his eyes, but then he presses his mouth closed. His jaw bunches. He grabs my waist, lifting me onto the counter with a soft growl.
The jarring shock when he sets me down makes me gasp again. And that sound makes Josh’s nostrils flare. He draws a deep breath and then shoves my skirt all the way up my thighs. His eyes slide down and his lips parts as he runs his gaze up my thighs, staring for a moment at the tattoo on my thigh.
“It’s—” God, I have to swallow in some air “—a mermaid.”
His eyes flash up to mine.
Strange, I’d thought they were just brown. Plain, mud-yuck brown. But they’re not. This close, I can see all sorts of amazing colors in those irises: specks of green and yellow and gold and honey. I get lost in them for a moment.
Hey, maybe he gets lost in mine, because we’re like this for at least a minute — panting, his hands gripping my crumpled skirt, my hands grabbing the back of his neck.
“I think you’re a mermaid,” he whispers.
“What?” I blink up at him, trying not to give him a confused look. I fail, obviously, because he drops his eyes and starts backing up.
Joshua
A mermaid? A freakin’ mermaid? What on God’s green earth is wrong with me? I could’ve said anything — a princess, a beauty queen, a porn star. Anything would have been better than—
A mermaid?
“I—” I take a step back, Alexa’s hands almost sliding from my neck.
She digs her nails into my skin, forcing me to look up at her. “Why?”
She sounds breathless and intrigued, but that quizzical frown is still between her brows.
“Your… hair. And your skin. It’s like… you’re not here.” God, why can’t I stop these nonsensical words pouring out of my mouth? “Not in this… plane. This dimension. Like some kind of—”
I almost say fairy, but that immediately reminds me that she thought — still does? — think I bat for the same team.
“My hair?” she whispers.
Her fingers draw me back a step. She opens her knees, and then pulls on my shoulders again, urging me to step between her legs.
My dick grinds against the edge of the kitchen island, but I clench my jaw and bear it.
Because I can feel heat spilling from her. From between her legs.
And dear God, I want to be inside it. Have it all around me. Get lost in it.
Alexa releases my neck. She’s staring into my eyes from under her lashes as she touches my hands, untangling them from her skirt. She places them on the inside of her thighs, close to her knees, and then slowly draws them up.
Her skin warms the closer I get to that triangle of darkness even my kitchen lights can’t pierce.
Can I?
Would she let me?
My fingers touch the seam of her panties. The fabric feels lacy, rough under my fingertips.
And moist.
Oh God, she’s so wet. Already? From just—
Alexa leans forward, and our lips touch again. This kiss is achingly slow. Our movements, blissfully sensual.
My heart starts beating in a hard, slow rhythm.
Which is exactly how I want to fuck her.
Hard… and slow.
Alexa
That tiny touch makes me shudder. I release Josh’s hand, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers explore the seam of my panties, following the stitchwork up, up, over my thighs.
Then back down again. Lingering.
He slides his thumb over my pussy, for a second applying pressure as if imagining how it would feel for his dick to slide into me, right there…
I moan into his mouth, and his muscles tense in response. Our kiss remains so deliciously languid. His tongue, flicking out to touch just the tip of mine before he presses hard against my mouth again.
So hard. But slow.
Damn… is that how he plans to fuck me?
I really hope so.
Joshua
The feel of her wet panties is making my muscles solidify. I want to be inside her so bad, I’m almost panting for it. I press my thumb into that damp patch of underwear, feeling her wet folds give way to that suggestion of an intrusion. My hand slides up her stomach, pausing briefly at her breast before trailing up the front of her throat.
When my finger’s near her mouth — our mouths — I can smell her on my skin.
I dip my head down, pressing our foreheads together as I try and get air into my lungs. She shivers against me, tugging free the back of my shirt so she can slide her hands up my back.
There’re no muscle for her to feel — I don’t have a second left for working out, not that I would ever feel the inclination to do so — but if she’s disappointed, it doesn’t show. Instead, she works her fingers over the nubs of my spine, as far as she can go until my shirt constricts her arm.
I press my thumb against her damp panties again, earning myself another deep-throated moan. I run my fingertips over her mouth, feeling her lips tremble against it, and then slide my hand into that faded gradient of colors that make up her hair. It’s silky, each strand so thin and light. I tug out her elastic, working to free her hair from its braid. I work out the tangles with my fingertips while my thumb brushes long strokes over her moist sex.
I lean back, watching her face. Her eyes flutter closed, her lips parting at my touch and her hands stilling around my waist.
As much as I love watching that delicate face coma-like in its appreciation of my touch… I want to hear her gasp in shock again.
So I grab a fistful of her hair. Yank her head back to expose that swan-like neck.
She does gasp, but it’s a strangled sound, coming from that contorted neck. Her eyes fly open, staring down her nose at me with something approaching unease.
Unease… or anticipation?
I dip my head forward and press my lips to her chin.
And then I force two fingers inside her, sliding them right past her pathetic excuse for underwear.
Alexa
Both my knees jerk up. If Josh hadn’t been standing between my legs, they would have snapped closed like a Venus fly trap. A quake rushes through my body as I moan, my back arching. I can’t go anywhere, pinned by Josh’s hand in my hair and his fingers up my pussy.
God, but that was unexpected.
And fuck, does it feel good.
He draws his fingers out. I can feel him watching me as he presses delicate kisses to my chin, the corner of my mouth, the side of my nose.
And then he shoves his fingers inside me again. Another jolt of pleasure shoots through me. My nails dig into the small of his back and he groans, sliding his lips over my mouth and flicking his tongue against mine.
Two quick thrusts, his hand tightening in my hair, and then he yanks my head back again, breaking apart our kiss.
“I was wondering,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Do mermaids taste different?”
“What?” I manage, which is quite astonishing, considering the fact that I can’t think straight.
He slides his fingers out of me. I can smell myself a second later, the musky sweetness of my own arousal sharp in my nose. I glance down, groaning as he runs the tip of his tongue along the length of his gleaming fingertips.
God, am I really that fucking wet?
“Do I?” My voice is hoarse. I swallow, trying — and failing — to look away as he slides both his fingers into his mouth.
“Do I taste good?”
“Like heaven.” Josh’s eyes flicker, and then he’s kissing me again.
His fingers brush against my panties, but this time not to tease me. Instead, he grabs hold of the lace and jerks it aside, hard enough that I’m sure I have pantie-burn somewhere along my thighs.
I gasp, unable to stop the sound.
And Josh lets out a short, sharp exhale in response.
His eyes flash up to me. He gives me a faint, ghost of a smile.
“I want to slide my tongue inside you.”
I shiver, nod. My hands tighten around his waist again.
He presses into me, and I can feel the silky fabric of his suit urged against my exposed pussy.
“And then I want to take you to my bed and slide something else inside you.”
This time, my muscles are too tight for me to nod.
So I moan in consent.
Joshua
Alexa leans back for me when I go to my knees in front of her. She kicked off her sandals a while ago already, don’t ask me when. One foot slides onto my shoulder, the other onto the back of a bar stool. She spreads her legs, blinking down at me for all the world as if waiting for me to critique those dripping folds of hers.
“Delicious,” I murmur up to her, throwing her a quick smile.
She brings a finger to her mouth, and slips her nail between her teeth, biting down on the tip.
My dick throbs once, hard, and I hurriedly drop my gaze before I end up cumming in my pants instead of in her.
I graze my nails over her thighs, watching goose bumps break out over her ivory skin. My lips brush the inside of her thighs. Her warmth, her lust, rises up to meet me as I draw near. I tug away both sides of her sex, baring that sticky, cachous-pink sex of hers.