Allure of the Vixen

by Morian, C. C.

  As Joanne eyed my place, taking it in, I had a few seconds to study her. She was wearing an outfit slightly different from what she normally wore to the office. I couldn’t quite place it at first, a slim skirt and blouse, heels, stockings or pantyhose. Yet something was different. . .

  More thigh. The dress was a little shorter. The muscles in her calves, my weakness, more pronounced, set off by slightly higher heels. The blouse was actually less form fitting than what she normally wore, her breasts less pronounced, which only served to draw my eyes there, once I pulled them away from her legs.

  When Joanne turned to me I could see that she had less makeup on, or so I thought, or maybe it was masterfully applied, her striking green eyes pools of emerald bait. Her hair was up, not like she normally wore it, she looked even more refined, more elegant. Just a few strands of hair fell onto her neck, and I had to resist the urge to tuck them up.

  “It’s what I pictured,” she said. “Your place, it’s so you.”

  “You don’t even know me. How would you know what my place would be like?” Although I think I could have pictured her place, something very sensual, lush fabrics, rich colors.

  She walked around my living room, touching a few things, her eyes missing nothing. “It’s sparse without being spartan, masculine without the usual trappings like too much leather and chrome. It’s direct, practical, to the point, but with a little mystery behind it, no façade, yet still inscrutable. Like you.”

  “You can read all that from my choice of furniture?”

  “And your art, and clothing, and where you live.”

  “Speaking of which, how did you get by the doorman?”

  “The same way you get into a nice club. I just walked in like I belonged here, or was expected.” Joanne turned her killer eyes on me. “Would you have stopped me?”

  “Yes.”

  She give me a hint of a smile. “That’s why you make a million bucks a year and he’s a doorman.”

  The mention of money made me think again of some kind of scam, something Joanne was playing me for. Yet she seemed too smart for that, if she was going to try to play me, money would have been the last thing she mentioned. Unless she really wasn’t that smart, and I was just being sidetracked by her beauty.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I asked.

  “I don’t really have much time. I only get an hour for lunch.”

  “Then we’d better eat.” I nodded toward the table.

  “I never eat at lunchtime, I go to the gym. But I bet you knew that. You didn’t think I came for food, did you?” Her eyes bore into mine, I couldn’t tell if she was amused or was really interested in whether I knew.

  I parried. “You said something about an apology.”

  “I thought you said I didn’t need to apologize.”

  “I did. But then what did you come for?”

  She gave me a bemused smile, as if she thought I knew the answer, and was just toying with her, or she was entertained as she toyed with me. I must admit she had me at a disadvantaged, I really didn’t know why she was there. I know what would be on my mind if I was in a beautiful woman’s apartment in the middle of the day, but there was something else going on here, there had to be.

  Or maybe not.

  “Are you going to make me say it?” she asked, and this time, I was sure she was curious as to how I’d respond.

  “Yes. And no bullshit, I want you to be crystal clear.”

  She seemed satisfied by my response, her eyes sparkling. She lifted her chin slightly, totally relaxed, matter of fact. “I came to fuck. And I don’t have much time. Is that clear enough for you?”

  Her words were like a detonator, an explosion freeing me from a trap I hadn’t realized I was in. I took two steps and wrapped my arms around her, my mouth finding hers. She hadn’t stepped toward me, and she didn’t embrace me right away, or kiss me back instantly, there was this brief moment, not of hesitation, but of waiting, as if she was making it clear she wasn’t taking advantage of me, or seducing me, not on her own, I was part of this.

  Or so I thought at the time.

  Then her mouth parted, her luscious lips seeking mine out, not surrendering, Joanne wasn’t one to surrender, I could already tell that, she was taking as much as she was giving. Her hands were on the back of my head, pulling me toward her.

  She was a very good kisser.

  Part of me was screaming that this wasn’t a good idea, I barely knew this woman, and while it certainly would not have been the first time that I’d had sex with someone I didn’t know well, there was the whole office thing to consider. But all of that was overwhelmed by her presence, her exotic beauty, to say nothing of the fact that her tongue was in my mouth and her breasts were pushing against my chest.

  As one we began to move toward the bedroom, still not breaking the kiss, bumping hard on the doorway, causing Joanne to laugh a little. She broke the knot on my tie, pulling it down, another release.

  We fell onto the bed, my hands reaching for her breasts, feeling their firmness, rubbing the silk of her blouse against her, sensing the outline of her bra. Her hand went to my cock, already rock hard. My lips were back on her, I had so much to do, I needed to kiss her, to free her breasts, to get my hand between her legs. . .

  I heard her heels fall to the floor.

  Twisting on the bed, totally consumed, I was mashing into her, not able to think of any reason to stop, I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. Even in the bar I hadn’t been this close to her, hadn’t been able to take in her scent, my nose pressed against her neck, taking in her own essence, beyond and within the atmosphere of her wispy perfume. Her fingers tightened on me, I was grabbing for the zipper on her skirt.

  “No, stop,” she murmured, but she didn’t push me away, her mouth still on mine, her hand still on my cock.

  I paused, but she shook her head, her tongue caressing my lips. “Not that,” she said. “I have to go back to work in these clothes, I can’t get them wrinkled.”

  “If you came to fuck you should have prepared better.”

  “Who says I didn’t?”

  I pulled away from her and she sat up on the bed. She looked me right in the eye as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse. I helped her take it off, revealing a half cut, lacy bra, revealing all the top of her breasts, her nipples stiff, clearly visible through the material.

  Joanne knelt on the bed, unzipping her skirt, pulling it off and setting it on the floor. She was wearing stockings and a garter, something I’d actually never seen a woman wear in real life. Her legs were simply incredible, what I had observed before in her work clothing spectacular, and yet even that had not prepared me for this, not a hint of flab on her thighs, firm all the way to her hips. I think I moaned, this was my dream woman body, toned, yet not muscular, feminine, yet not overly hippy or busty.

  She was perfect.

  I was unbuttoning my shirt, but it wasn’t fast enough for Joanne, she pulled off my tie as I fumbled at my buttons, then she yanked my shirt from my pants. “I want to feel your skin,” I said, as I pulled her to me. Her belly touched mine and it was hot, like she had just stepped from a sauna, yet her skin was smooth, not a hint of sweat, it was like a sun, enveloping me. I pulled her close, kissing her neck, unsnapping her bra strap, pulling her bra off, and finally our skin was together, fused.

  For long moments we stayed like that, kneeling on the bed, our torsos locked, her heat radiating into me. Her nipples pressed into my chest like hooks, threatening to never let me go.

  Joanne unbuckled my belt, all without looking, expertly, I had a brief dreadful thought, how could she be so good at this, so expert at capturing a man, even someone like me who had a history of self control. Yet here I was totally unable to stop, I wondered how much experience she had at this, unfair, I know, yet something at the back of my mind warning me, something was wrong here, I was a good looking guy but it had never been this easy with a woman. Well, it had, more than once, but not with someone as beau
tiful as Joanne.

  How many men had she done this with?

  It was a double standard, I knew it, yet I couldn’t help but think it.

  But it wasn’t enough to stop me, not only did I not keep her from taking off my pants, I helped her, yanking off my shoes. I dropped my legs off the bed and knelt as I unbound myself from my pants, throwing them on the floor, I didn’t give a shit about wrinkles.

  My head was on her thigh, and I kissed her there, on the bare skin just above her stockings, working my way up, I’d never wanted to lick a woman so much as I did just then, to feel those tight thighs and wonderful legs wrapped around my head, her stocking feet clutching at my back.

  I freed her from her panties as I kissed her, pulling them down and off, her fingers grasping at my hair, my lips getting closer, closer. . .

  Joanne groaned, twisting away, her legs coming together, denying me.

  “Not that,” she whispered.

  Fuck. So many mixed messages.

  My arms were around her legs, but they were squeezed shut. “Don’t you like that?” I asked.

  “I love it,” she said. “But not. . .I want you inside me.”

  I know some women didn’t like oral sex, for some reason I hadn’t thought Joanne would be one of them. I spiraled up on top of her, pulling the top of her bra down, taking her nipple in my mouth, and it stiffened even more, instantly, as I locked my lips around it and pulled. It swelled, and again her hand was in my hair, pulling me toward her. I mouthed her teat, biting her with my lips. Her back arched into me, and when I finally released her she gasped, and as I moved to her other breast I was amazed at how big her nipple had grown, dark, totally engorged. I reached for it, gently pinching it between my fingers, kneading it.

  “Maybe I should send you back to the office like this,” I said. “You’d have to wear a blanket to cover your nipples.”

  “You bastard,” she said, but it was her sultry voice.

  “I take it you like that.” I went to work on her other nipple, squeezing even harder, egged on by her moans.

  “You have to stop,” she breathed, but did nothing to pull herself away, if I hadn’t known better I would have thought she was lactating, her nipples were so hard and thick, her breasts seeking relief, ready to explode.

  “Why?” I asked innocently.

  “Because if you don’t I’m going to come.”

  “You could come like this?”

  “With you I think I could.” Joanne’s hand was back on me, stroking my cock.

  Suddenly she pulled away with an animalistic grunt, her nipple snapping out of my mouth. “What?” I said.

  “I want to see you.”

  She gently pushed me back on the bed and began working her way down my chest, kissing my nipples, taking them in her mouth, but gently, not the way I had sucked on hers. She knelt on the bed, sliding her hand from my chest to my stomach. “I love this part of you, your stomach, so flat.”

  “Maybe not as flat as yours.”

  “I think so,” she said. “And I work hard at it.”

  “And you skip all those lunches,” I said, wondering as I said it if I was subconsciously hinting a question, asking whether she spent her lunch hours at the gym, or fucking someone, getting her exercise the old fashioned way.

  Joanne either didn’t catch my insinuation or chose to ignore it, her fingers tracing down to my hips. “You know the sexiest part of a man?” she asked.

  “This is a trick question, right?”

  “Right here,” she said, pushing her finger into the indentation between my hip and my waist. “See this? Most men don’t have this. You have to be more than in shape, you have to be slender and muscular at the same time, it’s rarer than you think. Skinny men have nothing there, just bones, most men have a tiny amount of flab, even if they are in shape. But you. . .” she bent and planted a kiss on the spot, a dent, something I’d seen in the mirror a hundred times but thought nothing of, “. . .I thought you’d have this, and now that I’ve seen it I’ll think about it, I’ll masturbate thinking of this, feeling my fingers on this spot as you are fucking me.”

  This time I couldn’t help it, the words were torn from me. “Is this from experience, or do you look at a lot of pictures?”

  Joanne slapped me on the chest, pretty hard. “What are you asking me? You want to know how many men I’ve fucked?”

  Which was exactly what I was asking her, as unfair as it was, her question making that so obvious. It was none of my business. “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “You have nothing to apologize for either. And now that I know you realize you have no right to know, I’ll tell you anyway. Fewer than you think, more than you might expect.”

  “Hmm.” I said. All this banter doing nothing to slow my pulse, to detract from my desire for her, if anything, it enflamed me.

  “Which is probably what you’d say if I asked you.”

  “If I could think fast enough in this condition,” I said.

  “Condition? You mean you aren’t always like this?” She wrapped her hand around my cock. “No, I could see that would be difficult, walking around the office like this.” She slowly slid her closed hand down my shaft, tightening the skin, making the tip smooth. “You have a beautiful cock,” she said, bending over me.

  My legs were quivering, waiting for her to take me in her mouth.

  But she didn’t, she just stayed bent over me, my cock an inch from her mouth, as she slowly stroked me. Her face was in profile, alluring even from the side, what the ancient Greeks might have etched on a golden urn.

  “Are you going to ask me how I know that you have a beautiful cock?” she said, not looking at me.

  “Right now I’m in no condition to ask you anything.” I had to grit the words out. I couldn’t tell if she was teasing me, her mouth so close, she must know all men loved oral sex, but for me it was the best part of sex, even better than fucking, the idea of a woman taking me in her mouth, the ultimate trust in her, my manhood against her teeth, yet at the same time the powerful feeling of a woman taking you into her that way, especially on her knees.

  “You can ask me anything you want,” she said, and now her eyes were on me, with a hint of warning in them: Ask the wrong question and I’ll stop. Or worse.

  I wanted her, but I hated being used, I hated cock teasing. “Suck me. Or not. But if we are going to do anything, it’s not going to be a handjob.”

  Joanne’s eyes flared, but then she smiled. “You wouldn’t want a handjob from me?”

  “Maybe someday. Not today.”

  Joanne kissed the tip of my cock, her tongue darting out, the snake from Eden, catching the slit, opening it, then ran it along the rim, all in a matter of a few seconds. Then it was over, and as she moved back up the bed my cock strained to follow her.

  She kissed me, her tongue slipping into my mouth, and I tasted my own pre cum. “I won’t suck you,” she said. “No offense.”

  So she really didn’t like oral sex.

  “I could teach you to like it,” I said.

  She knelt over me on the bed, her eyes sparkling. “You want to teach me to like giving you head?”

  “I bet I could.”

  “You’re assuming I don’t like it. Sucking a cock, I mean.”

  “Well, you had it right there. . .”

  “I actually love sucking cock. Especially one as beautiful as yours. The only thing better than being fucked is making a man come in my mouth.”

  “Then why…”

  “I’m not going to suck your cock, ever.” Perhaps to take the sting out of her words, she reached back and removed her bra, unveiling the completeness of her beautiful breasts, the nipples still swollen from my teeth. “Do you think my tits are nice?”

  “They’re perfect,” I said automatically, still stunned by her comment about not being willing to ever take my cock in her mouth. I’d never been naked with a cock tease, I would never let it get this far.

  “You notice I didn’t ask you h
ow you knew. Whether your expertise in evaluating breasts came from looking at pictures.”

  “I—”

  “Shh,” she put her finger on my lip, and unconsciously I kissed it. She forced it into my mouth. “Suck it,” she ordered.

  I turned my head away. “No.”

  She tilted her head, then slipped her finger down between her legs. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could guess. She put her finger back on my lips, the musk of her arousal filling my nostrils. I had to fight my instincts to keep from grasping it with my mouth.

  “Don’t you want to taste me? Suck my juices?”

  “I love to suck fingers,” I said, my eyes as hard as my voice. “Just not yours.”

  Joanne’s eyes flared again, but they also sparkled, and slowly I was beginning to understand how she really communicated, the complexity of what her eyes would tell me. “You are a bastard.”

  “And you’re a tease.” I didn’t believe it, not really, but she was pushing my buttons.

  She drifted her finger over my lips, giving me another chance, but I clamped my lips together, not trusting myself. She smiled, as if she had just learned something, or perhaps in surrender, to this one little battle, her hand drifting down my chest, over my stomach, and onto my cock.

  “Is this how a tease acts?” she said, suddenly all innocent. Without waiting for an answer her hand was around my cock, and without missing a beat guided me into her pussy.

  This would normally have been the time, past the time actually, to talk about birth control, about safety, about our sex history, about protection. Especially given what I suspected about her.

  But it was too late, I couldn’t have that conversation now, my usual sanity in this area completely overwhelmed by her effect on me, her power, her allure.

  And by my lust.

  Neither one of us hesitated, I thrust my hips upward as she spread her legs, her weight falling onto me. My cock forced its way through her labia, into the welcoming wetness, and to the tightness beyond. I felt a surge of elation, this beautiful woman was soaking wet, yet I hadn’t even touched her pussy or her clit, she was wet just from kissing me and from my sucking on her nipples. And maybe from touching my cock.