Silent Weeks Sequel Pt 04

Halloween.

Text (her): You home?

Yay!

Calm down.

Text (me): Yep.

Text (her): Stay inside.

Ooh. Ominous.

Text (me): k

Sounds like a surprise is coming for me- let me rephrase that.

Sounds like a surprise, for me, is coming.

... Only slightly less foreboding. Anyway....

I was sitting on the sofa when I heard the gravel crunch, and as much as I wanted to open the door to her, I knew that not doing that was implied, so I just remained seated, consciously stopping my leg from bouncing.

Car door shut.

Text (her): Close your eyes.

Oh, my. New outfit?

... No outfit?

Shut up.

Text (me): Ready.

I closed my eyes and set my phone aside. Hands over eyes for good measure.

After a few seconds, the front door opened.

Her footsteps on the hardwood floor sounded slightly different. New boots?

Door closed.

A couple more steps.

"Okay. Open."

I obeyed.

Never, in the entirety of my life, up to that point, had I ever put my hands to my open mouth in surprise.

"Oh, my god," I said through my fingers as I stood in awe.

I absolutely had to get a closer look at this... miracle.

I circled around her, as she casually strolled over to the arm of the sofa, for a proper leaning pose, and then I grabbed my phone to pull up the reference image.

Poking, prodding, and fondling, I inspected her further, comparing details.

A two-tier skirt. Purple on the top, shorter layer and gradient to a pinkish purple at the bottom, which was slightly tattered.

The belt with the double chain.

The purple, off-the shoulder, sleeved vest with only the one button at the top. And nothing underneath.

Arm sheath, wristbands, and infection lines drawn on one arm, copied with impressive accuracy.

I pinched some of her hair and slid my fingers down, leaving purple smudges.

"Temporary dye," she informed.

Appreciated. She knew I loved her natural self.

Short pigtails held by spiked hair ties.

Amazingly accurate and realistic looking horns.

Five-tooth necklace.

Pointy ears.

Purple contacts.

Purple stockings.

The purple-stained, calf-high boots were not exact match, but that was understandable.

She even had a realistic spell book, and a real-life accurate-equivalent dagger that was sharp.

"This is amazing," I finally said. "How... were you able to do this?"

She had achieved something that I almost doubted could be done at all.

An almost perfectly accurate cosplay that did not look like an obvious cosplay.

Of one of my favorite characters.

I took some pictures.

"Lots of internet searching, and have I mentioned that I'm half-way decent at crafting and sewing?"

"Half-way my ass. So much effort."

"I've wanted to make an amazing cosplay outfit for years, but there was never one that I thought was worth the effort, especially since I didn't have any real reason to wear it. Then I found the reason and the one I wanted to do."

"I feel like I should be wearing an oversized hooded coat, right now."

She lightly chuckled.

"Nope. I've done exactly what I wanted. ... Now it's your turn," she added, quietly and slyly, turning her face away and flipping the dagger around.

Hell, yeah.

My feet on either side of hers, I moved in to slide my hands around her waist and kiss her.

"Oy," she said, abruptly, impersonating the character's voice as she pushed me away with the book. "My trust is not at 200%."

I find that hard to believe.

But, okay. This seemed fun.

"Unfortunately, all base operations are assigned, and there are no missions available. In fact, I sent your sister on a mission."

Her eyebrow raised, and she turned her face toward me slightly.

I eased a little closer.

"She'll be gone for days."

She faced me.

"Would you like something sweet?"

"Whatcha got?"

I gave her quick, light kiss on cheek.

She froze a moment, with widened eyes, dropped the book and knife, then and lept up at me.

"Sugar rush," she shouted, wrapping her arms and legs around me and repeatedly kissing all over my face as I stumbled backward into the wall laughing.

Pretty sure this would not have been true to character.

I steadied myself, held her thighs, even though she was still securely affixed, and I somehow managed to catch up with her lips.

Her onslaught slowed until it was just one long kiss, and my hands had moved to her ass.

I was wrong.

They weren't stockings.

They were leggings.

I broke the kiss to ask, "Were these leggings expensive or hard to find?"

"No. Why," she asked with a devilish smile.

"I'm gonna need that knife."

Looked me deeply in the eyes for a moment, and then spoke in a soft voice.

"Trust is at 200%."

I can't really say that I was expecting anything, but I was definitely not expecting her to let go and slowly start leaning backwards until she was hanging upside down reaching a hand out for the knife on the floor.

Her loose, cloth vest flipped, uncovering her breasts, which was definitely not a distraction that I needed at the moment.

We were obviously not close enough to the knife, so I walked her over until she could grab it.

She carefully clutched the blade between her teeth, to free her hand, and then began her graceful ascent, while pulling the vest back into position at the same speed.

Staring me in the eyes, she took the knife from her mouth and held it up in front of me in the one hand, while the other hung loose at her side.

She was remaining upright entirely by her own strength.

"Did you take gymnastics as a kid," I asked, cracking a little smile.

"In fact, I did."

"Nice," I said, turning toward the bedroom.

Along the way, she cut off the necklace and threw it aside. Neither of us actually liked jewelry.

Grabbing a handful of the comforter and sheet, I pulled them off the bed and tossed them onto the floor in front of the closet door.

I stood against the foot of the bed, and she lowered herself, but kept her legs around me, causing her to lay angled down. Her hands, and the held knife, rested on either side of her head. The vest spread open to reveal more of her stomach.

Since she was around my waist, she was too high up for me to press my bulge into her, to satisfy that great urge, so I decided to give my attention to that oh, so inviting abdomen.

I smoothed over the surface, grazing her belly button with my thumb, and then moved up her ribs, under the vest flaps, but only around the outer edges of her breasts.

Sometimes the mere suggestion of potential exposure is more satisfying that the exposure itself. The anticipation. The realm of potential. The hope.

Her eyes half closed in response, as I massaged, allowing cloth to move incrementally further, lightly grazing over her nipples.

The underside of her breasts came into view. More. The edge of her areola. The erect nipple. The rest of the areola.

And then I realized that I had yet to taste them. It was almost as if I had sampled her out of order.

I unbuttoned the single point of attachment, and deliberately opened the vest outward, putting her on full display.

It was a beautiful sight.

She looked at me with sultry eyes, in this seemingly vulnerable position, with the flaps of the vest offering an illusion of pinning her arms down.

But her legs tight around me, assured me that she wanted all of this. That she didn't want to be anywhere but there, ready for whatever I was about to do next.

I wrapped my hands around her ribcage. My thumbs at the fronts of her shoulder. My spread fingers covering as much of her back as I could.

And then I bent over and enveloped one of her erections.

The sudden inhalation that I heard above my head pleased me, as my mouth and tongue explored new textures, and new contrasts between soft and firm.

I moved to the next one to seek differences, and then a hand fell upon my head. A gently encouraging hand.

My teeth teased and tested, yielding magnificent answers.

When I'd learned what I could, I began a path up from between her breasts to her lips, and then blindly relieved her of the knife.

Upright, I set the knife aside, because the time for it had not yet come.

I grabbed her hips, cuing her to release, and after she did, I helped move her up the bed just enough that the edge was at the back of her knees.

Up her thighs to the waistband of her leggings, and pulled them down to the tops of her boots.

Just wanted the mental image.

I used the knife to cut the through the material, from crotch to waist, set the knife aside, and then pulled one half back up her leg, careful not to touch her skin.

Any of her skin.

Grabbing her by the claves of the boots, I widened her legs, but needing to pull her body down just a little bit to get the width that I wanted.

Staring her in the eye, I slowly reached my hand up the skirt, creeping closer to her center until I could sense the heat from it. Close enough that even she could feel my finger's presence without actual contact.

Her eyebrows did a wonderful involuntary dance.

I removed my hand to the side of her bare knee, and then started a trail up with my fingertips on her as lightly as I could manage.

At about mid-thigh, her leg shivered at an unintentional tickle, and she made a light gasp.

I changed course to the top of her thigh, beneath the skirt, in order to cross over the connection and explore that beloved expanse slowly side to side, edging closer and closer to her mound.

Closer and closer to its hidden divide.

Her breath shuddered with a light moan, and her hands twitched with restraint.

Her back arched slightly as I traced down the crevice, and her eyebrows danced again as I moved back up, but inside just enough to feel her on the sides of the very tip of my middle finger.

I crawled onto the bed enough to tease a nipple with my tongue, along with the tiny motions of my fingertip gradually working further in.

Only halfway to the first knuckle, she began moistening my digit.

I eased in slowly, occasionally backing out slightly before going deeper still, until I could go no further without touching her elsewhere.

Well-soaked, I pulled it out, left her nipple, and brought both my finger and face to hers.

She parted her lips to receive it.

I watched close-up as she suckled, and I listened intently to the sounds of her breath and saliva.

I applied pressure to the top of her chin with my palm, to guide her mouth open, and then held it in place as I played with her tongue, allowing saliva to accumulate until my finger was coated once more.

A trail fell on her lips, chin, and chest as I moved away from her.

I placed both of her feet on the bed, and eased back into her until my palm covered her hood, and then I proceeded to move in and out of her at a slow pace.

My hand moved slightly from side to side, offering a light massage for a little while, and then came time to search the top of this steamy cavern.

Repositioning my hand for depth, I swept along until I felt the texture and resistance change, and she was kind enough to signal my arrival.

Target located, she made her approval known, and even offered a little instruction.

I gently pressed over the area from above, with my other hand, and soon another finger joined.

A little faster to increase her hum. A little faster still, and her music flowed through the air. Soon, a crescendo into the final song.

When she gripped the covers and convulsed, I slowed a little, then her beautiful words came panting across to me.

"Keep going."

Who was I to disobey?

After a couple more, she quite urgently almost shouted, "Come here," and scooted herself to the head of bed.

My fingers came out, but I rushed onto the bed to continue.

After another build-up, she cried out and expelled a gush of fluid.

I removed my hand to take in the site of-

"Don't stop," she cried out desperately.

Oh, shit. Okay.

Back in, I lifted the wet skirt out of the way, and when I eventually felt another one about to come, I lowered my open mouth to welcome the spray from around my working hand.

"Oh, god," she panted, after.

I looked to her.

"When I tell you, take your hand out, and put your mouth on it."

Say what?

I went at it again.

She escalated.

By now, I was already recognizing her physical cues, so I was able to act almost instantly upon her order.

"Now."

I removed my hand and wrapped my gaping mouth around her and held my breath.

My mouth filled quickly, and I pulled away closing it, as the rest covered my face.

I stood on my knees in amazement and wiped me eyes clear so I could see her.

She was on her elbows, watching me with a little smile.

It was too much liquid for me to try to swallow.

I probably looked half ridiculous crawling up to her with puffed out cheeks, but she wasn't laughing.

She dropped back down as my head overshadowed hers, and it didn't take long for her to realize what I wanted.

She opened her mouth, and then I let about half of it trickle in.

We both swallowed together.

"Magnificent," I said, and then kissed her. "Absolutely magnificent."

"Took me a couple of times to get passed that feeling like I had to pee."

"Understandable." I paused. "You're quite a tasty dish, aren't you?"

"Well..." she raised her eyebrows and momentarily cocked her head aside, then licked her lips. "I'm not complaining."

I gave a little laugh.

"Need a water?"

"God, yes, please," she exclaimed.

"Okay," I half laughed, and then retrieved one from the kitchen.

When I returned, she was taking off her boots, but paused to downed half the bottle before getting back to removing her outfit.

"Is that skirt machine washable," I asked, getting out of my own clothes.

"Absolutely."

"Good.

"Is your mattress going to be okay?

I uncovered one corner and showed her the most recent purchase.

"Waterproof."

"Look at you planning ahead," she congratulated.

We stripped the bed, after we stripped ourselves, used the dry part to wipe the rest of her off of the mattress cover, she finished off the bottle of water, and then we left for the bathroom.

She removed her colored contacts to drop them in the garbage, and then we had an adventure with washing the temporary dye out of her hair, repeatedly, until she was back to her beautiful self.

"I'm really hungry," she said, moving a rag over my chest.

"I would be more than happy to cook for you."

She set the rag aside, slid her hand down my body, and then spoke softly as she moved in for a kiss.

"I'll whip up a snack, here."

Her hand lifting up my half-staff answered my mind's would-be question before it was even asked.

She held me in her palm and began stroking me to full length, then she left my lips to direct the shower head down, before dropping and immediately taking me into her mouth.

She tried some different techniques, and I tried to coherently let her know which ones were really working for me, and then I noticed that she was trying to take more of me in, a little bit at a time.

I began feel the constriction as she came close to a gag, but was able to avoid it.

Her throat became increasingly relaxed, but then she backed off and focused on bringing me to completion.

I held her head to stabilize myself as I shot several loads into her mouth.

She kept slowly working me by hand as she stood and opened her mouth for me to see the pool of cum, before lifting her chin to allow me to see her throat move as she swallowed.

And then, of course, that beautiful gasp.

She milked what remained onto her fingers, while her other hand coaxed open my mouth.

Pretty sure I knew where this was going, and don't worry, this was an experiment that I've already conducted, so it didn't faze me at all when she stood on her toes, put her fingers into my mouth and wiped the cum off onto my tongue.

She held my lower jaw down to see her work, then looked me in the eye and closed my mouth.

I gave her a little show of a swallow, and she smiled.

After the shower and drying, she put on a very flattering, simple, black, cotton camisole and a pair of equally flattering panties.

I put the bedsheets and our clothes in the washer.

I cooked and we ate.

While I was on the toilet for a post-meal poop, she appeared in the doorway.

"I gotta pee like crazy. You almost done?"

All that water she drank, I imagine.

In fact, I was done, but this was an opportunity that I wanted to seize.

"Com'ere," I said, beckoning her.

She gave a curious look, but walked in and stood beside my knee.

I took the thin sides of her waistband and slid them down until they could fall the rest of the way on their own.

I then took one foot out of the pool of my shorts and underwear so that I could spread my legs more and shift myself as far back on the seat as possible.

"Have a seat," I said, guiding her out of her panties to straddle me, on my legs, facing me.

I draped her arms on my shoulders and she crossed her wrists behind me.

"You sure about this," she asked with a soft smile. "I'm not sure I can miss."

"Do what you gotta do."

She rolled her hips to her best estimation of an ideal angle, leaned in to kiss me, and then opened the floodgates.

Holding the kiss, I reacted to my tip getting hit, causing her to let out an attempted giggle, so she adjusted again.

"Okay," I assured, half giggling between our pressed lips.

"You good," she asked, muffled.

"Mmhmm."

When she was emptied, we broke the "kiss" and had a good chuckle, as she straightened back up.

I tore off some toilet paper and took the liberty of drying her off.

She feigned a pleasure response.

"Careful. Don't start the car if you're not ready to drive," she teased.

Joke or not, the response sound she made swelled me, and I gained some altitude.

She noticed as she got up.

"Maybe you ARE ready to drive," she said as she collected her panties.

"Nope. I'm good," I said, feigning stifled discomfort.

"You sure," she smiled, putting her panties back on.

"Yep. Just gonna wash up. Be out in a bit."

She turned to leave, and I playfully backhanded her butt cheek.

"Oo!" She bounced a step, then left giggling.

I stepped back into the shower for a lower body wash, and then redressed to join her on the sofa.

After some time, she was lounging back against me while I was lost in thought and mindlessly watching her playing a game on her phone.

"Have you ever had any fantasies about how you wanted your first time having sex to go," I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, a candle lit room with music playing, and stuff like that?"

She was quiet for a moment.

"Not really."

She paused the game but continued speaking.

"For most of my life, I thought I never would have sex. Having sex, at all, was a fantasy."

She leaned aside, to the back cushion of the sofa, so she could twist herself to look at me.

"I was more concerned with imagining what kind of guy would want to have sex with me. What kind of person he was. And if he was the right kind of person, then the setting would be fine, because he wouldn't be the kind of person that would so easily disappoint me."

I started feeling hints of a threat of tears, but I resisted.

She moved back into her original position and continued the game.

"What about you," she asked.

"I suppose I haven't either. My sexual fantasies rarely ever involved me. I usually imagine scenarios of other people. Like watching a movie. I didn't exactly have high hopes for myself, either, I guess."

She brushed the outer edges of her bare feet against the inner edges of mine.

Later, we redressed the bed, and tucked in for the night.

I held her back pressed into my chest and spoke quietly into her hair.

"I'm glad you exist."

She hugged my arm in reply.