Whats Left Of Me Ch 03

Welcome to part three. Thank you tremendously to those of you who've left ratings and comments. I really appreciate it.

We stood under a streetlight outside the bar. We hadn't spoken since we'd kissed. I didn't want to break whatever spell we were under. Emily stood with me, body pressed against mine, my hand in hers.

"That was...", she breathed, and leaned her head against my chest.

"Yeah, it was. It really was." I stroked her hair. "Can I walk you home?"

She jerked away from me like she'd been scalded.

"What?" I said.

"Do you honestly think I'm letting you drive tonight?" she growled. "Either you're staying with me or I'm sitting in your car and not letting you go until morning."

I couldn't help myself. If our roles were reversed she'd have done the same thing. I knew that like I knew the sun would rise in the east.

"Well," I said, "my car is pretty comfy."

Ish pre-ey comfy.

We'd gotten comfy-drunk and starting to sound like it.

"Shut up," she said. "Stupid boy. Let's go, come on."

Her place wasn't far. We could practically see it from where we were standing. That didn't stop her from sliding her hand into the back pocket of my jeans – so she could help guide me, of course. And it was a lovely summer night, a breeze stirring the warm air. Didn't stop me from curling my arm around her – for warmth, I said. What kind of friend would she be if I got lost? What kind of buddy would I be if she got cold? These are the kinds of silly fictions we told ourselves sometimes that summer.

Just for something to say, I said, "tell me about your roommates. Is it going to be alright, me coming over?"

"Yeah," she said, hand squeezing, leaning on me. "It's fine. 's Friday. They, like, play a pirate game every Friday. Together. All three of them. It's like date night."

"So it's cool? Wait, like actual date night?"

"Yeah. They're poly, I guess. It's a new thing. How I got their spare room. Guess they didn't need it anymore. You don't have an issue with that, right?"

I slid my hand down her side, resting it on her hip, pulling her closer to me. Not that there was far to go. She'd pressed herself pretty tightly against my side.

"Not at all. How's that work?"

"So it's Max, Jordi and Serah. Max and Serah have been best friends forever. Jordi's Max's boyfriend. He's bi, Max is mostly gay. Serah had a crush on Jordi. It's the current year. They decided to try it out. Scratch some itches or whatever."

"I guess it's going pretty well," I said, "if she's moved out of her room."

"I guess so," Emily laughed, a drunken chortle vibrating against me. "You would not believe the noises they make."

I couldn't help laughing too.

"Don't worry," she said, squeezing my ass hard. "On Pirate Night they have their headphones in. They won't hear anything."

And I pulled her to a stop. We were close to the building she'd pointed out.

"Emily." I said, hands on her shoulders, eyes on her face, desperately wanting to kiss her, desperately wanting to fuck her, to make love to her.

Dangerous distinction to make

, the thought flashed through my mind. "Are you sure about this? I mean, really sure. I need you to be sure." I knew I wasn't sober, and if I wasn't, she wasn't either. But I had to ask. "I want you

so fucking badly

. But I can't risk hurting you."

"You won't," she whispered. "You won't. Unless I want you to." And she kissed me hard, quick and fast, tongue snaking past my lips to slide across my teeth. And before I could properly kiss her back, pull her to me, possess her mouth like I wanted to, she'd pulled back, grabbing my hands, pulling me towards the building, up the stairs. My hands were on her as she fumbled for her keys, sliding across her flat stomach, exploring the gap between buttons in her loose-fitting top, breathing in the smell of her hair, trying desperately not to overstep, keeping my hands off her small boobs, the zipper of those denim shorts. And she pressed back against me, hard ass against me, encouraging me to go where I wanted. The key went in the door, the door swung open, and we piled inside.

**

"Hi." "Hey." "Hello."

So there we were, standing in a foyer open to a kitchen on the right, a stair covered in fuzzy carpeting on the left. We were standing on a LIVE LAUGH LOVE floor mat – ironic or not, I didn't know yet. The rest of the floor, a wide-open space filled with computers. Tough to tell in my state how many there actually were. At least six, I thought, with more monitors than I could count easily. There's a stack of pizza boxes on a table, and three faces turned in our direction.

Emily's top had come untucked – I'm sure I had nothing to do with that. My hand was underneath, caressing the smooth flesh of her stomach. Her arm tugged at my back, pulling me into her. I don't think any of the watchers had any illusions about what they were looking at: two horny kids, desperate for each other. It made their insouciance that much more annoying.

At least Emily was cool about it, not that I'd expected anything different.

"Hey guys. This is Ducky, from work. We had a couple at Lannigan's so he's staying over."

"Hey everyone," I managed. "Sorry to bother."

"No problem," said one of the boys. "Have good sex."

"We going for a fort," demanded the girl; Serah, presumably. "Or doing another voyage? And can one of you bitches get me another Coke?"

"Have fun on the high seas," Emily said, and we scampered up the stairs, barely making it through the bedroom door.

We collapsed onto her bed, kicking the door shut as our mouths met in another tangle of teeth and tongues. She was on top of me, shoving at my shirt; I ran my hand along her back, sliding her shirt up, the other descending over one round, firm buttock, finding the warm seam in her jeans.

"Wait."

She kissed me harder, mumbling against my mouth, and I pulled her into me. I could feel her belt buckle against me, a hard reminder of the layers between us, as she ground down onto me, pressing against my length.

"Stop."

Somehow, the word penetrated the fog in my head. My hands froze, and I was suddenly cognizant of where they were – one high on her back, caressing her silken skin, the other rubbing at her slit through her shorts. She slid back, just enough to bring her face into focus above mine.

"Condom?"

Fuck

, I thought. "Fuck," I said. "No. I didn't think... I didn't think anything like this would happen."

"I didn't either," she said, smiling fondly if a little hazily. "I don't have – are you clean?"

"Yeah," I said. "It's been a bit. Haven't been with anyone since I tested last."

She grabbed my hand, moving it off her groin, pinning it to the mattress, interlacing her fingers with mine.

"Okay," she said, voice ragged. "Me too. I have an IUD. Okay?"

"Okay," I said. If she'd said

I'm fine having your babies

, or

you can't get pregnant in space

, I think I'd have agreed just the same. My mind was not in the driver's seat. Then she rolled off me, and I made a little noise of disbelief and loss and need as she got off the bed.

"Stay there," she said, breathing hard. "Sit up. Get your shoes off. Socks, too. And... just watch."

I sat on the edge of the bed, knees spread, picking at the knot in the laces of my boots. It's not easy to untie your shoes with an erection so hard it's painful and your eyes busy with a wonderful something else. She watched me, making sure I was watching her, and unbuckled her belt, sliding it through the loops of her shorts. She stepped close, looping it around my neck, bending to plant a kiss on me, then swaying away when I reached for her.

"Ah ah ah," she laughed. "Looky but no touchy right now, Mister Duck."

"Yes ma'am," I said. "Whatever you say."

"And get those shoes off. No shoes in the bed."

I bent back to my task, fiddling with the knots and laces by touch alone, not daring to take my eyes off her slim figure. She sauntered away, pulling off her boots and throwing them into the corner. Her hands vanished into her sleeves and into her top, and she tossed a bra, strapless and flesh-toned, into the corner after the boots. I pulled my own shoes off and placed them by the bed, socks following.

Then she came back, a full catwalk stalk, small hips swaying, crossing her legs with each step as she walked right up to me, standing between my knees. I could have grabbed her. I could have pulled her onto the bed, bruising her mouth with kisses, kneading her breasts, tearing away her shirt to get at her stiff nipples. I could have done all these things and she would have welcomed it and wanted more.

But I didn't.

She stared at me, predatory, fire in her eyes, biting her lip, tongue playing along it, tasting. Her hands played with the small buttons on her shirt.

"Unbutton me?", she whispered. "Please?"

I started at the bottom, trying not to touch her body, just the buttons and the fabric. I kept my eyes on hers, listening to her breathing quicken, watching her finger creep to her mouth. Her pink tongue touched its tip, and her white teeth bit down as I undid the last button, and she whirled away, elbows rising, hand dropping from her mouth, and suddenly her back was to me, her shirt was in my hands, and somehow I hadn't seen her chest at all, not a glimpse of a nipple or a soft small breast. She looked back through the tangle of her hair cascading past her shoulder, eyes tender, smoldering. Her hand went to the button on her denim shorts, and she opened it, and bent at the waist, feet together, an erotic duplicate of how I'd seen her that first day, and slid those shorts and a scrap of black cloth not much fuller than a string past her sculpted hamstrings, down her toned brown legs over her calves to her feet. She stepped out of them without straightening, backwards, towards me, tight ass and closed, secretive outer labia so close I could see her wetness glistening. I could smell the spicy-sweet musk, feel the heat from her lips. I could have tasted her.

But she'd said no touching.

My hands clenched in fists on my thighs, I blew a thin stream of air across the rosebud of her ring, down onto the cheek, across those lips I wanted so badly to taste, to bite, to lick, to kiss.

"Hmm," she moaned, standing straight, turning at the waist, gazing over her shoulder. For the first time I could see her breasts, nipples standing firmly to attention, jutting out hard as bullets, areolas nearly nonexistent. She had enough to fill my hands, I judged, and that was enough. In high school, the first lesbian I'd ever met had told me any boob larger than an apple was a waste. She wasn't right, but she wasn't wrong either.

She turned to face me, one hand rising to run a thumb across one of those stiff nubs, the other coming to rest lightly on her mound, fingers exploring the outer limits of her slit, the whole area made smooth and bare by laser, razor or wax.

"Fuck," she said, "I hope you eat pussy."

I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. I didn't have time to. And she knew the answer anyway. She tackled me, pushing me down, crawling up my body, mounting my face, grinding herself into my mouth.

That wouldn't do. At least not this time.

I slid out from underneath her, ignoring her surprised, disappointed squawk. It was my turn to manhandle her, wrestling her onto her back, parting her thighs. She wiggled against me, making soft little needy noises.

I started just inside and above her knee, taking my time. I kissed her knee, trailing my lips onto her abductor, moving to the other leg, ever higher towards her center. I bit her gently, scraping my teeth along her firm muscle, listening hard: yes or no? She seemed to welcome it all, moving her legs to give me access to whatever I wanted, gasping hard as I ran my tongue up her hamstring, biting a little harder on the curve of her cheek.

"

Fuuuuck

," she wailed.

"Too much?"

"Yes! No! I don't know – just, hurry up. Come on, please!"

"Patience, beautiful," I whispered to her glistening slit. "Plenty of time," and ignored her urgent dissent.

I slid my tongue across the top of her thigh, kissing the tight tendon, licking around her labia, continuing to nibble, holding her in place. I teased her mercilessly, trying to learn her body, testing touches and movements and patterns, interpreting shivers and moans, searching for pleasure points waiting to be discovered that she herself had missed, overlooking them in her haste. She was worth taking my time over, even if this was our only time together, and I was determined: it wouldn't be. This was a beginning, not the climax, and there'd be many along our journey. And when she reached down, impatient with my ministrations, to pleasure herself, I grabbed her hand tight and shook my head

no,

rubbing my mouth across her lips. She grabbed my head and pushed me into her, hand clenching in my hair.

She tasted good. Not that I'd had a lot to compare to. But

fuck

she tasted good.

I spread her lips with my fingers, working to one side with my tongue's pointed tip on her inner folds, then the other, teasing at the opening beneath, then pressed the full width of it to her, roughly licking up to her clitoris, probing her hood. I slid my fingers inside her; just one to start, and she eagerly accepted it, panting wordlessly, arching her back, forcing her legs wider. A second finger quickly joined the first. She was as hot and wet inside as lava flowing to the sea. And I flicked at her clit with my tongue; and took it into my mouth and sucked gently; and licked it bottom to top with rough broad strokes; and the whole time my fingers curled inside her, stroking, inviting her to come hither, exhorting her to come.

When she did, her hips bucked. Her hand bore down on mine, and her other pulled hard in my hair, and she didn't scream 'oh fuck!' like I thought she might have. Her back arched further, bending into an implausible arc, and she whispered softly:

feel me, oh, feel me.

And I did, as she fluttered around my fingers and left herself behind for a moment.

**

"Hey there, sleeping beauty." I was lying next to her, head propped up, watching her come back to herself.

"How... how long was I out?"

"About ten seconds," I said. "But you had a lot going on before that."

"Holy shit. You broke me. I'm broken."

"That wasn't me, buddy," I said, idly stroking her. My hand was still covered in her fluid. "That's all you. I've never done that to anyone before. That was amazing. Is it always like that for you?"

She exhaled long and hard, nestling her head back into the blankets on the bed. "Fuuuuuuck. No. I've never come like that before. Oh my God. I don't know if I can do another one of those right now." Then, focusing her eyes on me: "Why are your clothes still on?"

"I didn't have a chance to take them off, remember?"

"Okay, right, fine. Then go get us some water, please. There's bottles on the counter next to the fridge. I'm just... I'm just gonna lie here for a minute. Try to remember what my life was like when I had bones."

"Before I go down into the pirates' lair, do you have something I can, um," and I waggled my fingers, dripping her juices, in front of her.

She sighed. "Good point. Can't get the water all cummy." And she seized my hand and took my fingers into her mouth, laving them with her tongue, sucking hard as she released them. I really didn't want to go get water. Not then. Fuck. "There. All better. Go, water. Hurry back."

When I came downstairs, three pairs of eyes were watching me. So much for discretion.

"Hey, welcome back, done already?"

"Hi," I said. "I'm just grabbing some water, if that's okay."

"They are over by the fridge," said the guy in the center of their huddle of computers. He was about my age, I guessed, with a neat little moustache and skin the color of almonds; like the other two, he had a pair of bulbous headphones hooked around his neck. "We have some cold ones, probably, if you would prefer those."

"Thanks. Serah, Jordi or Max: which one are you?"

"Jordi," he said. "And you are... Duck?"

"Ducky," I said, "to my friends."

I was walking into the kitchen when I heard the girl's voice: "He's still got his clothes on. Whaddya think?"

And the other guy – that'd be Max: "She wouldn't make him get dressed again."

"Maybe she fell asleep. Poor guy. I wonder if..."

"I can hear you, you know," I said loudly.

"They know." It was Jordi again. "They are teasing you. This is a regular game they play. Do not worry."

"Hey, Emmy fall asleep?" The girl again. "You wanna hang with us?"

"Serah, right? She's just thirsty. Appreciate the offer but I think I have other plans tonight."

"O-kaaaay," she sang out sweetly. "You know where we are if you change your mind."

I'd picked up some cold waters – thank you, Jordi – and was heading back up the stairs when I heard Serah again, loud, wanting to be overheard: "You think she needs the water because she squirts?" Max and Jordi laughed. I laughed too. That girl was trouble.

Emily sat up when I opened the door, and drank down half the bottle instantly.

"Ooh, cold. Jordi get you these?"

"Yeah."

"Guy's a saint. I'd try to steal him away from Max but they're inseparable."

"He seems like a nice guy," I said. "Serah's trouble though."

"She's going to want details tomorrow," Emily said agreeably. "How much can I kiss and tell?"

"We can kiss as much as you want. As for telling, I don't care if you don't," I said, and I didn't. "You heard her?" And when she said yes, she had, I continued: "But did you hear her ask if I wanted to quote-unquote

hang

with them tonight?"

"No," she said, wide-eyed and giggling. "That bitch. Trying to steal my buddy-with-bonuses."

I had a weird little pang in my heart at that.

"'Buddy with bonuses?'"

"It's like a friend with benefits, but better. Just thought of it. Because you can still be my best friend too. You can't be my best-friend-with-benefits and just my buddy. Its feng shui is all fucked up. There's no harmony."

Not the time, not the place

, I thought,

to get into this. Let's get through the night first and see what happens. Plus,

another thought occurred in a different part of my body

, best friends plus fuckbuddy still sounds pretty fucking okay to me.

"In that case, I accept. Both parts. Buddy with bonuses and best friend too."

"I thought you might," she said, and flashed a smile at me. "Now drink some of that water and get over here."

I stood next to the bed, drinking the cool water, while Emily worked her way down the buttons on my shirt. She had a brief moment of annoyance when she reached my jeans – "a button fly? It's like you

don't

want me to blow you right now" – but quickly got over it when I shucked the jeans and my boxers off. She reclined on her stomach, taking the first half of my cock in her mouth comfortably, though not going further. I'm not massive, but I'm not small. I was delighted by how much enthusiasm she put into it. She locked her lips around my shaft, wrapped her small hand around the base, and went to work, bobbing her head fast and rhythmically, never breaking eye contact, never releasing her mouth.

It wasn't the greatest blowjob I'd ever received, but

fu-uck

it was good to be getting one, and great to be getting a good one. And that she was doing it on her stomach, head tilted back... Her bed was the perfect height – hard not to fantasize about a future encounter, Emily on her back, my hands on her breasts, maybe, or holding her head; while I thrust into her throat, balls bouncing hard against her face. Maybe someday. For now, good God. Maybe she didn't have the craft Olivia had developed by our end, that intimate knowledge of where to apply pressure, when to suck hard and when to relax, where and how and when to tease with her tongue, and when to stop completely. But I'd

never

experienced this level of passion before. That unending eye contact. The

look

, lust and hunger and trust and... and something else, affection, maybe; this girl might make me cum with her eyes alone. In fact...