All characters are over 18. As always thanks to Max for taking the time out to edit.
*****
"I'm pretty sure I'd rather pay you back. It's a thing of mine."
I hated owing anyone and last week's fuck up with my check had left me doing just that.
Whereas, once I would have been grand taking advantage of the generosity of any one of my many male friends, living barely employed had taught me the true cost of many things. Yay, zero hour contracts. A moment, a beat, as his thumbs twiddle the controller. We are alone in the thickly furnished flat. A fly buzzes somewhere.
"You could always suck my dick."
A moment longer than the last. Mick's tall frame is as relaxed as ever, hunched as it is on the low couch, thumbs still working away. Unsure if I should laugh I breathe.
"Say again?"
He pauses the game, character left perched on some Venetian balcony.
"You - could - always - suck - my - dick." He says it without turning. A slight blush on his cheek.
The infuriating fly has gone silent; met a sticky end by way of purpose made tape. Cheese and soy sauce flavours the air faintly. Truly, the house of two mid-twenties lads. Lost in thought, a sudden pressure brings me back. The ps4 controller lies idle, groundside. He breathes into my neck, grip tightening on my thigh.
I should resist, recoil or twitch. I don't. I've always fancied him in the way any red blooded female appreciates an attractive male. Tall, broad shouldered, regal in a way with his wide boyish face framed by locks of hair like burnt umber...or autumn leaves. Nice full lips - which I found pressed to mine. I gasp, have been gasping, cooing, sighing all along it seems. Whilst apparently his hands have been fumbling with my coat, button after button freed. The flimsy top underneath stands no chance.