Passion in the Night: the Beginning

Thunder rumbled and the sky was painted a fierce red-orange outside. Lightning lanced through the clouds, crackling with static heat. Wind howled through the pines and rattled the metal door in its frame. A series of curt, assertive knocks pinged against the paint-chipped metal and alerted a lanky twenty-something to an unexpected visitor. He paused his game and rose from the couch to wander over and peek through the peep-hole. There stood a figure cloaked in gray, soaked through, with only a glint of gold distorted through the warped glass. The man smiled and opened the door.

"Took you long enough. It's really coming down out there," his visitor commented with a wry grin, pushing the hood back from her damp forehead.

"Heh... sorry. I didn't realize it was you for a second," he replied, "What brings you here at this time of night... in a monsoon?" He inquired, glancing at the little green glowing numbers of the kitchen clock. They flashed twelve-forty-one.

"Oh, I just got off work when the rain started. I was walking home and remembered that you were closer than my apartment. I was hoping you'd shelter me from the storm," she smiled angelically, looking up at him and batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated comical fashion. He chuckled, distracted by her thrust-out breasts, a by-product of her faux-innocent stance.

"Well, you know you're always welcome here, Laura." He tore his eyes from her perky tits as she began unzipping the gray hoodie covering them, the zipper gleaming cold and sharp against her pale cleavage. A thought tickled at the back of his mind, pushing itself to the forefront of his consciousness, "The lab really kept you out late. I thought you weren't working tonight." His puzzled eyes never met her flushed, panicked expression while he distracted himself from her diminishing clothes by examining the calendar hanging above his desk.

"Oh! Um, no. Janice called in sick and they asked me to cover. I could use the extra cash. The experiment just lasted longer than I thought... Hey, y'mind if I borrow a shirt or something? I'm soaked," she quickly changed the subject.

Mason turned around, glimpsing her damp skin, her dripping hair and clothes. A small puddle began to form around her shoes, which she was currently trying to extract from her feet. "Yeah, sure, I'll just grab something from my room." He strode past her, long legs carrying him across the living room to his small quarters. He leaned into the door, which opened with a stutter and a groan, and nearly stubbed his toe on the bed. Laura followed him after peeling off her socks, placing them with her shoes and jacket by the front door to dry. She stopped by the doorframe, peering into the half-gloom of her friend's sparsely furnished yet over-crowded room. A large bed was pushed into the corner by the window and took up about three-quarters of the floor. A small night stand was squeezed into the other corner at the head of the bed, next to a small closet built into the wall. An old hardwood chest took up the space at the foot of the bed, leaving a small patch of dull gray carpet in front of the door.

She looked around the corner of the door, watching as Mason rummaged in the closet and slipped an oversized (and thankfully clean) shirt from a hanger. He tossed it to her. "Thanks," she murmured, instinctively lifting the cloth to her nose to inhale the soft, warm smell of laundry. He nodded his head in acknowledgement, awkwardly skirting around her and out the door. Laura realized then that she was supposed to change in the room, alone, for privacy's sake. She stepped in and closed the door, setting the shirt on the chest while she wiggled out of her wet clothes. She kicked them into a pile in the corner and sat down on the bed to wait for the fan to dry her sticky-damp body. She sighed, leaning back and letting her hair dangle over the side of the mattress.

Five minutes later Mason looked up from his videogame to see Laura not only wearing his shirt, but also a pair of his skinnier jeans. They barely hugged her hips, the legs bunching up around her feet. She smiled sheepishly, running her fingers through her tangled, wet locks. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing some pants. Mine really needed to dry..." Mason nodded distractedly, eyes wandering from the strands of gold stuck to her neck to the hard little nubs straining against the soft fabric of one of his older, well-worn band shirts.

"Yeah... no... it's fine..." he shook his head and scooted over on the couch, returning his attention to the television screen. Laura took a seat on the space he cleared for her, tucking her cold bare feet under herself. She watched the game progress, an assault of pixilated fire and blood.

However her eyes, and mind, kept straying to her companion. She watched the intensity in his speckled gray eyes as they flickered across the screen, the hard-set line of his jaw, the unconscious part of his full lips as he concentrated. She lifted a hand and tucked a few stray strands of his wavy black hair back behind one round ear. At the sudden contact he stiffened and quickly looked at her from the corners of his eyes. A shout from the game and the music of imminent danger distracted him and he returned to the game, furiously mashing buttons.

With a huff, Laura grabbed the controller and set it on the coffee table. She swung a leg over his lap and settled down, straddling him. Mason let loose a strangled, surprised sound from his parted lips before they were swiftly silenced by Laura's. A warm tingling spread between her legs as the kiss deepened. He felt his pants tighten around his crotch as she curled her fingers in his hair.

His hands fluttered at his sides, uncertain how to move without a controller. Laura's mouth moved down his jaw and settled against the side of his throat. Her nibbling found a sensitive spot; Mason groaned and finally gained purchase on her thighs, pulling her against him. She tugged at his shirt, lifting it off him and running her hands, still cool from the walk in the rain, over his warm chest. Her nails grazed his nipples, sending a shiver up his spine. Once again her lips met his in an exploratory kiss. Her tongue flicked out, tasting his mouth, running along the points of his teeth, dancing with his tongue before slipping back. One hand moved behind his neck, holding him in the kiss while the other continued down, tugging at his jeans and rubbing against the growing bulge. His breathing quickened. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and his free hand tucked behind her knee.

One more stroke from Laura's curious hand caused Mason to take control. He flipped her, pressing her into the couch cushions. She squeaked with surprise, though the sound quickly turned to soft little moans as he buried his head against her neck. The sucking and biting fuzzed her head, and she relaxed under his warm body.

A particularly sharp nip against her collarbone reflected in her groin, fanning the embers of her passion into flames. Her hands scratched down from their relaxed position at his back and found the clasp of his pants. They tugged at the button, undoing it with a little trouble, and pulled the zipper down. With some wiggling on his part, and the use of hands and legs on hers, they managed to gets his pants and boxers around his knees.

A groan subsided into heavy breathing against her ear as her fingers wrapped around his exposed shaft and began to stroke it with a steady rhythm. He stayed, tense above her, at the sensation of another against such sensitive skin. His breath quickened, the warm air tickling the soft hair inside her ear and cascading cool tingles across her back and chest. When he wrapped an arm around her, lifting her up to him, Laura shifted her hands to his hips and pulled him down. At the sudden change he blushed, caught off guard and sheepish of his own pleasure. She smiled and closed her eyes, pulling him close for a quick kiss, and murmured something about pants.

Mason paused for a moment, then kissed his way down her torso. His fingers quickly undid the familiar buttons of his pants, though the positioning was certainly different. He slipped them over her hips, pulling them all the way off and watched in amazement as her legs fell open to reveal her very naked sex. Discarding the jeans to the floor, he ran a finger up over the outer lips and watched Laura's eyes close and her face light up with pleasure. Encouraged, he slipped a finger inside her, gathering the juices, and ran it up until he found her clit. He started with slow circles, only rubbing directly over it to watch the small jerks of her body. Intrigued by his control over her, he pushed two fingers deep inside her and produced a low grown from Laura, her chest pushed up and legs stretching out at the new pleasure. He crooked his fingers and rubbed until he found her spot, then rubbed all the more. Her breathing quickened just as his had, and he too pulled out before she could be properly satisfied.

Laura's eyes opened, a pout on her lips. Mason, quite determined, reached under the couch and brought up a condom which he quickly tore open and slipped on. She lifted her hips, ready to receive him. And he positioned himself over her, kissing her on the lips to prolong the wait.

A few kisses in, Mason grabbed Laura by the hips and plunged into her, mouth now nibbling at the base of her throat. She moaned, filled beyond expectation and enjoying the mind-numbing, steady and slow thrusts. As they found their rhythm, Mason pushed harder, faster, panting against Laura's skin. She in turn wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. She lifted her lips to his ear, murmuring dirty little encouragements while dragging her nails across his shoulders.

His pounding struck her closer and closer to climax. A hard bite on her shoulder sent her over the edge. A fire coursed through her body, alighting her skin with flame from the tips of her fingers to her toes; ringing in her ears and flushing her chest. The pulsing of her sex tugged at Mason. The tight warmth milked him until he came with a grunt, relief flooding his body.

He slipped out of her and lay by her side, an arm flung protectively across her abdomen. She curled into his embrace, head nestled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the musk of man and sex and familiarity, waiting for the humming in every hair on her body to settle into sleep.