Its later at night, and we're sitting around, drinking and watching TV. By this point, I've already got a pretty good buzz going on, and when I'm near someone I'm attracted to, it translates into me being driven almost insane by my urge to be fucked. The vodka and bawls is a sinister combination, I feel like I'm floating and at the same time, am really awake. He's paying more attention to the TV than to me, ignoring the little glances I keep giving him as I down a few more gulps of my drink. My eyes trace over his form.
Bane's thin, but not too thin. Wearing blue jeans and a black beater. His dark eyes are locked on the TV idly as he sips at his own drink, occasionally meeting mine and smiling slightly, before returning his attention to the screen. His hands are fussing around my hair and the back of my neck, which is an easy place for me to get turned on. Something about being touched, sucked, licked, and bit on the back of my neck and shoulders is an easy way for me to get turned on, and if fussed with enough, even achieve orgasm.
He knows it. Still, he fusses idly with my hair, in a completely innocent fashion. We're always touching each other...Holding hands, cuddling, or he'll fuss with my hair or my belt loops. This is nothing new to me. But now with the alcohol and anticipating of being fucked, each twist of my brown locks, each caress on the back of my neck is maddening. I breathe a sigh and feel my shoulders tense up. He notices.
"Your shoulders hurt, baby?" He asks, his deep voice soft with compassion. "They seem awfully tight." Despite the fact that we've been drinking, his speech remains pretty clear. Mine on the other, due to my accent and my low alcohol tolerance, would be butchered.
I finish the rest of my drink before setting down the glass on the table and shrugging. I don't make an attempt to speak, though, as though to hide how buzzed I really am. I make a passive "Eh." at him and settle back against the couch.
"You sure?" His fingers rub into my shoulders and up my spine, kneading the tense muscles. "C'mere." He grabs my hand and leads me over to the chaise lounge, an over-stuffed chair set up kind of like a permanent recliner. He sits down first, legs apart, and pats the space between them. "Sit down, I'll rub your shoulders."
"Y'don't hafta." My Pennsylvanian accent handles the alcohol poorly, and my words slur together. "'m fine, Ah promise. Shoulders'r jus' a bit tense 'cause Ah had'a long day."
He pulls me down into the chaise lounge, chuckling at the way I talk. "I know." His laugh sends chills down my spine. "A bit tipsy, are we?" He works his hands into my muscles, his thumbs toying at the back of my neck.
"'M'not tipsy. Ah've not had much ta drink at all!" I sink back against him and breathe a sigh. It feels good to have a shoulder rub, but not very relaxing. In fact, it was the opposite.
"Nice try." He says, chuckling. I let out a defeated grunt, my fingers resting on his legs. He leans forward, a little, leaning over me. He rubs my shoulders and back, brushing my hair over my one shoulder to give him better access to the back of my neck. I squirm slightly, trying not to call attention to myself. Soft whimpers get caught in the back of my throat as I close my eyes and try to detatch the sexual feeling, not wanting to seem like I'm about to jump his bones. I feel him remove one of his hands from my shoulders, for a moment, and then put back where it was. He'd turns the TV off. I'm not surprised, as he often does that to let me know it was time to go to the bedroom to go to sleep. I begin to stand up, and am quickly met with both of his hands on my shoulders, pushing me back down. He breathed one, soft, hot word against the back of my neck.
"No."
He'd said it firmly enough that it takes me by surprise. I begin to turn to look at him, but he firmly puts me back in the position before, rubbing my shoulders and the back of my neck. I'm surprised and a little confused, but sit there between his legs while he massages me. I find it harder to keep the moans and whimpers to myself as the TV had been turned off, and the only noise was the sound of our breathing. I try to breathe regularly, but it comes out in short stifled gasps. I hear another soft chuckle and I wince. I open my mouth to say something, but I feel him tilt my head down and his lips meet the back of my neck in that oh-so-sensitive spot. He kisses it lightly, sending flecks of fire spiraling through me. He breathes soft words against my skin.
