“No, if you want to come back to my place, that’s cool. It is pretty early anyway, and I only live around the corner,” I added, not sure why I felt the need to rationalize it to her. I had no idea how to take this girl.
As we pulled into my parking spot, it hit me that I’d never actually brought a woman home before. My other places were convenient settings for a quick session, especially when I knew I wasn’t planning on seeing them again, but this girl—I didn’t care if she saw where I lived and to be honest, that scared the fuck out of me.
“Nice building,” she commented as we walked out of the lift. My flat was on the top floor, and as I unlocked the front door, Mr. Jefferies came running up to greet me. “Oh hello, kitty,” she cooed, kneeling down to pet him.
He rubbed himself up against her, basking in the attention. She picked him up, cradling him in her arms, nuzzling her face up against his. I smiled, feeling insanely jealous of my cat. What I wouldn’t give to have her rubbing herself up against me like that. What the hell was going on in my head? I never acted like this around any woman.
“This is my cat, Mr. Jefferies,” I commented, reaching out to rub his chin. “Can I get you a drink? I have wine, beer—”
“A soda is fine, thanks,” she cut in. I watched her as she carried the cat over to the sofa. She sat down with him on her lap, her face lighting up every time he meowed. She looked at home, not awkward or nervous at all—the exact opposite of how I’d thought she would act.
“You like cats,” I said, stating the obvious. She nodded.
“I was never allowed any pets as a child,” she explained. “But I’ve always loved them. I used to love sleeping over at friends’ houses because they had a menagerie of animals. It was great.”
“And now?” I asked. She looked surprised by the question.
“Leasing,” she explained quickly, “so I’m not allowed any animals.” Pushing Mr. Jefferies aside, she stood up and walked over to where I was pouring her drink. I grabbed a beer for myself and handed her the glass of soda, ignoring the sparks that hit me as her fingers brushed against mine. Every time we touched it was like a fucking fireworks show was going off in my head.
“Have you lived here long?” she asked, glancing around.
“A year or so,” I shrugged, suddenly aware of how vulnerable I felt with her in my space. She spotted my guitar in the corner, her eyes lighting up.
“Do you play?” she asked.
“Not well,” I chuckled. I walked over and picked it up, strumming a few cords. I didn’t play as much as I liked to anymore. Another example of where work got in the way.
“You sound pretty good,” she commented shyly. I laughed. I could put together a few notes, but I was far from good. If she wanted to hear what a great guitarist sounded like, I was more than happy to show her. I opened my CD player and put in a disk.
“What’s that?” she asked as the smooth sounds of Jimi Hendrix drifted through the various speakers around the room. Confusion creased her features as she tried to place the song.
“Jimi Hendrix,” I said, chuckling. Her expression remained blank, as if I had just named some unknown, third-world artist. “You’ve never heard of Jimi Hendrix?” I gasped.
Surely this was some kind of joke? Who over the age of fifteen hasn’t heard of Jimi Hendrix?
“I’ve heard of him, I’m just not familiar with his music,” she replied defensively. She flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder and gave me a look that clearly said if I didn’t drop it, then this was going to go nowhere. Someone didn’t like being teased.
“Okay, sure,” I said, my eyes twinkling. I slid onto the sofa, up the other end. “So, do I get to know your real name?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I kind of like Angel,” she said, cocking her head, her hand reaching up to finger her necklace. The sight o
f her sitting there on my couch with her expression so innocent was getting me hard. She glanced down, as if she instinctively knew what was on my mind. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of my cock producing a pretty serious-looking bulge as it pressed up against the restriction of my pants. Well, at least she knew what page I was on.
“Can I kiss you, Angel?” I muttered softly. She nodded from the safety of the other end of the sofa. Tilting my head, I motioned for her to come to me. On all fours, she began to crawl toward me, like a kitten on her way to play. I slid down further onto my back as she came closer. She moved over me slowly, each and every move done deliberately and sexually. When her face was above mine, she stopped, resting her hand on the arm of the sofa to keep herself propped up.
This girl had me so hard I was at risk of dislocating my cock. She smiled, her mouth stopping millimeters from mine as if she were waiting for me to react. I gripped her hair roughly, pushing my mouth onto hers. She tasted sweet, her soft lips just as hungry for me as I was for her. With each kiss came a new feeling of desire. A new need. My mouth crushed forcefully against hers over and over, the want not waning.
My hand began riding her dress up near her waist. I wanted to touch her everywhere, and make her feel things she had never felt before. I wanted to rip her legs apart, slowly and gently licking her until she couldn’t take any more.
This girl deserved to be explored, and I needed to be the one to explore her. I wanted to delve inside places previously unknown. I wanted to give her pleasure on levels she never thought existed.
She pulled back, straddling my hips. Her eyes burned into mine as a little smile played on her lips, like she knew something I didn’t. My hands gripped her thighs as she began to undo the buttons of her dress, one by one. She took her time, enjoying the power she held over me. Each button she undid made my heart pound a little more. She finally lifted the dress over her head, throwing it down on the floor. Her dark mop of hair cascaded around her shoulders, contrasting beautifully against her soft pink bra. I let my fingers trace the edge of her bra, her breasts spilled over, looking as though they wanted to break free.
Yanking her bra down, I groaned as she released the clasp. With nothing in my way, my fingers trailed up her bare stomach to her breasts while my other hand ran gently over the outside of her panties. She gasped, her eyes flashing with lust and need. Her body clenched as my finger ran against her, threatening to enter. She moaned, as though the teasing was more sexual for her than the actual act. Her hands balled into fists by her side.
“You like that?” I whispered, immediately taking advantage of the power shift. In an instant, I was back in charge. This girl, who had captivated me from the moment I laid eyes on her, was now mine, willing and ready to take what I wanted to give her. She nodded, her eyes shut as her hands rested on my chest.
“Tell me you like it,” I said, my fingernail moving along the crack of her pussy, over her wet panties. She jumped, her hold on my chest tightening. I smiled as my finger continued to trace the outside of her panties, occasionally slipping underneath, threatening, teasing.