Your Weekly Dose

Maybe because I've been awake for 22 hours, maybe the beers over the past 5, but I cannot make your belt work. My fingers are clumsy and gripless and they let the thick leather slap back down against itself. Again. I rest my hands. Try to will them into usefulness.

The heat from your jeans a fire.

You huff, impatient. Your fingers are sure. You flip back the tongue, open the button with an expert flick.

I'm here earlier than she expected and the place is a mess. Clothes dropped here and there, messy piles of skirts, stockings, shine. I pick up her bra, hold it to my face, the side of it where her sweat would have soaked in. Images of her in action: her round ass as she bends over to pick up the paper she dropped at work, her blunt fingertips gently pressing the yellow skin of a mango at the fruit stall, her purse tucked under her elbow, phone cocked between ear and raised shoulder. Her heels clicking on the pavement, fast towards home.

We're sitting across the table from each other, never kissed, never touched, maybe never will, but the possibility thrums in the air like a candle's heat. I keep watching your lips, waiting to feel your eyes stray to my breasts, where my nipples have been teased hard by the light fabric of my shirt.

They don't, though, and I'd say you weren't interested, except.

Our legs crossing and re-crossing. Hands flip through the air then at a loss, trembling uneasy animals in our laps, tapping across the table. The thought of a kiss passing behind your eyes before you blink.

Her neck is warm where I breathe on it, my hand curved gently around her belly, tucked safe under it. I've slipped one leg between hers, the ankle bones pressing my calf. Her body heaves, relaxes, her breathing evens. I tuck my hand tighter, let my eyelids drift closed.

Neatly pressed, buttoned down, collar stiff. You stayed fully clothed as you stripped me down. Told me to get down on all fours on the glossy hardwood.

I stare down.

You step quietly round to stand in front of me. I move to lick your boot, my arms bending out like an insect's at the elbows. You lift it, place it heavy on the back of my head. The smooth sole pressing my cheek. A hard bruise into the floor.

She pulls her dick out of my mouth and slaps me across the face with it. Spits maliciously into my eyes. Shoves her dick back into me, convulsing my body in a tight gag around the shaft.

When I walk in, you can’t keep your eyes off the bag. It’s a bulging awkward shape, and it starts buzzing when I set it on the floor. My blood drops as your eyes widen and your mouth stops moving, a plump circle. I wet my thumb, run it over your bottom lip.

The bottle matched us up, its slow twirl coming to rest, the neck pointing at you, my hand still hovering above it.

You blushed. Sweetly. Then tossed your short hair defiantly. "I'm up for it. I'm..."

You faltered.

"...flexible."

They laughed. I stood up.

I made you walk in front of me to the closet so I could watch your ass, the muscles working visibly against your second-skin jeans. Once we shut the door you looked at your feet. I tilted your head up.

You smiled.

Your lips were soft, small. I could feel their edges under mine. Stayed for a moment, enjoying it, surprised when I felt your blunt tongue.

Sensing my hesitation you stopped, pulled back.

"Oh no, no you don't," I said. My fingers reaching around your neck, up over the arch of your skull. My thumb under your ear. My tongue between your lips.

I fill my mouth with her pussy, grabbing her legs and pushing them wide, the liquid coats my tongue, my teeth, my palate. A musky scent, undertones of wild onion, an acrid sweat in the back of my nose. Every delicious fruit you could name, sliding down my throat.

Cheek pressed against the cool tank, I bend over to fill my mug. He walks behind me, pauses a moment. Looks over his shoulder, unzips, lifts my skirt, slides his dick into me. Asks me how my weekend was, the show I went to, the dinner out. He’s careless, lets his cock slip out, now and again, but he’s careful to rub it all over my snatch, kissing my clit with his slit before pushing back in.