5: In Which She Gets A-Head

5: In Which She Gets A-Head

**********************

“You ever consider pencilling your eyebrows back on?” I asked Lesner, reaching out and running a finger across his forehead. Despite my attempt at hiding, he’d caught up with me after dinner. So I figured I’d give him a piece of my mind.

“I beg your pardon?” He stepped back as if he’d been scalded.

“Nothing! Happy birthday!” Before he could protest, I pulled him into a bear hug.

“Can’t. Breathe,” he wheezed into my ear, struggling to escape. I was just being nice. What was his problem?

Rox appeared at that moment, two glasses of red in hand. “Amor? Are you OK?”

“Yes.” I released Lesner, who had a perplexed look pasted on his face. Didn’t he get enough hugs as a kid? Maybe not. That was so sad.

“She’s drunk.” He sniffed, his eyes on my chest. Pervert. “Get her home.”

“I’m not drunk,” I said in disbelief. “I’d be falling down if I had too much, right? But I’m still standing. Suck it.”

“Suck it?” Rox repeated in a hiss, handing Lesner his drink as she shook her head. “Come on, babe.” She took my arm, trying to touch my front.

“Rox, don’t make a scene!” I hissed, pulling away from her.

“There you are, sweetheart,” Ashton said from behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Please excuse us. She’s just celebrating.”

Lesner had a thin smile on his fat face. “Right.”

I allowed Ashton to pull me aside. “You’re experiencing a Janet Jackson-Superbowl moment,” he said into my ear, tugging one side of my dress over my braless chest. I hadn’t even felt the breeze. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“I’m not a child, Ashy.”

“Let me take you home,” he muttered, his arm firmly cinched around my waist.

Why did that have such an effect on me? It wasn’t like we were naked.

Shít, I thought. I had to think of him naked.

Now my hormones were working in overdrive, not that they weren’t already. As he led me to my car parked outside, I contemplated ripping my clothes off and asking him to take me then and there. He was so tall and so broad, all he’d have to do was press me up against the car, unzip himself and enter me... No doubt that would make the papers.

Ashton unceremoniously pushed me into the passenger seat, buckled me up, and slammed the door shut. He strode around the car and slid inside.

He shook his head. “You didn’t realise you had a breast hanging out?” Laughter escaped his lips. “Man, I gotta get you drunk more often.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I sulked, folding my arms across my chest.

“Probably because you didn’t give them a chance.” Ashton put the car into gear.

“Just take me home.” I was slowly coming down from my high. Liquor had never really been my best friend. And the vodka was having a weird effect on me. I felt like jumping someone. And not in the I-want-to-beat-someone-up way...

“Where do you think I’m driving you, huh? Narnia?”

“Your sarcasm is sobering me up,” I said brightly. “Keep at it.”

He shifted gears, his hand inadvertently brushing my knee. I shuddered as if he’d caressed me.

“Ashton?”

“Yeah?” His voice was distracted as he overtook someone. A Mini Cooper. Cute car. Probably didn’t cost as much to get all four slits of keyholes fixed, plus driver’s window. My poor Beemer was an expensive car.

“I’m going to go with this feeling I have.”

He glanced at me. In the psychedelic lights of the street lamps we passed, I could see that he was bewildered. “What the hell are you...” His voice trailed off as he watched me.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turned to my side, pushing my chair back and simultaneously trying to unzip Ashton’s fly. He swerved to avoid hitting the car in front of us.

“Amor, are you crazy?”

“Only a little.” My head was pounding and I needed to pee, but all I could think of was giving someone a blowjob. Anyone. Preferably this man.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” I told him, slapping his hand away. Bending over, my knees on the seat, I slid my hands into the silk of his black boxers. Silk boxers were the sexiest things under the sun, in my opinion. Cotton could go to hell.

Ashton inhaled sharply when my hand wrapped around his c0ck. “We’re going to have an accident,” he protested, but he leaned back in his seat.

“So?” He was hard. Hot. And well-endowed.

“So?” he repeated, his voice strangled. “So we could have an accident!”

I lowered my head. And took him into my mouth.

Ashton screeched to a stop at a red light, hissing. “You’re a fúcking psycho.”

My mouth was too full to reply. His c0ck was slick with pre-cum and I lapped it up, already wet myself. Tracing the veins of his manhood with the tip of my tongue stirred the deep pool of desire in my belly. Ashton’s palm was abruptly pressed against the back of my head, urging me to take in even more of him. With one hand, I gripped the base of his erection and circled the head around every inch of my mouth, lightly scraping it with my teeth. The lights must have changed because the car jerked to a start again, as did Ashton’s hips.

It squealed to a complete stop as he exploded in my mouth.

“Shít,” he exhaled, pouring himself into me. He was panting heavily and I was far too busy drinking him up, luxuriating in his smell, his taste.

I sat up when I had sucked him clean, my head ringing. Ashton’s eyes were squeezed shut. They flew open.

“We’re not going to talk about this incident. Ever,” he said quietly, starting the car again and simultaneously zipping himself up.

“Why?” I said, licking my lips. “Because you came too quickly?”

He shot me a glare. “Came too quickly?”

I patted his arm kindly. “It’s OK. It happens to a lot of guys.”

His mouth was a thin line as we pulled up outside my apartment block.

I pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool night air. My heels were still inside but I didn’t care. For the first time in a long time, bare feet on gravel didn’t scare me. But there was the little niggling fact that I was extremely sexually frustrated.

Ashton got out and locked my car up.

“Cabs usually stop over there,” I slurred at him, pointing right outside the gate.

He walked around the car and palmed the car keys into my hand. “Wanna see a party trick?”

“To be honest, I just want to go to bed.” And probably stoop to touching myself.

Before I could so much as blink, Ashton’s hand came around the back of my neck and he pressed his lips against mine, parting them for his tongue to enter. It was déjà vu. My Beemer was going to have nightmares about her owner being violated numerous times against her. I let out an involuntary purr, my head thrown back. As quickly as he’d kissed me, he pulled away again. His hands skimmed down the front of my dress and brushed against the hem.

“I have a headache,” I blurted out, gasping for air.

“I’ll relieve it,” he said curtly, pulling my hem up. Wind beat against my suddenly exposed skin but Ashton’s hands quickly warmed it. They slid between the delicate parting of my thighs and I breathed in with a sigh.

With practiced hands, he slipped my thong aside and played with the lips of my pússy. I pushed myself against him with a need I didn’t recognise, didn’t understand. Ashton’s eyes were trained on me as he slowly pushed a finger inside my heat. He slipped another deep inside me, brushing against my clít with his knuckle. Gripping his shoulders, I rocked against him, my breathing ragged.

He was punishing me but it didn’t feel like any punishment I’d ever been subjected to. As his fingers found my secret spot and dished out their torture, I felt the intense heat inside me emanate and envelope me, searing my nerves.

Ashton’s fingers disappeared and I moaned my disappointment. He lowered himself to waist level, crouching at my feet. Tugging at my dress, he pulled it over his head and then I felt the most amazing sensation I’d ever felt in my sexually deprived life. He parted the wet, sensitive folds of my pussylips with two fingers and I cried out when the fuzz of his five-o’clock shadow burned them.

His mouth...was...down there.

The novelty of it wore off as pleasure overtook. I grabbed a clump of his hair while he flicked his tongue inside me; laving me, tasting me. Being seen by one of the many residents in the complex was the least of my worries. Shoving my twat into his face, I ground it against him, aching for him to drive his tongue even deeper, to fill it completely. Ashton’s tongue was like a whirlpool of pleasure. He sucked on my swollen clít, his teeth brushing against it, taking the ecstasy to another level.

I came all over his face almost instantaneously, panting like a dog.

Ashton raised his head, getting to his feet. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face before wordlessly cleaning up the mess between my legs.

After a long moment of silence had passed, he said gruffly: “Now that’s what I call coming quickly, Amor. Have a good night.”

Turning on his heel, he disappeared into the shadows, whistling a merry tune.

I let out an angry scream.

***

“You look like shít,” Roxanne noted, pushing past me and heading into my living room with a brown paper bag. The smell of hot croissants and coffee was going to make me hurl. My stomach, however, was rumbling incessantly.

“Thank you for stating the obvious,” I said sardonically, gently closing the door. Even the faint snap of the lock made my head throb.

Roxanne, on the other hand, looked like the poster child of Eight-Hour-Sleep-and-Lots-of-Water. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and she wore an azure tank top and black spandex running shorts. Her white Skechers told me that she’d just come from a run. Roxanne was all about running. Her sexy pins told that story.

“Jeez, you’re cranky when you’re hung over.” A grim smile was on her face. “You and I both know you’re not a very good drinker. What happened last night?”

I shrugged, padding over to my coffee table and peering into the bag. I took out one big croissant and took a huge bite out of it, crumbs flickering to the carpet. For the first time in my life, I didn’t care about a little chaos.

“Amor? Listen to me.”

I don’t want to.

“Image is everything,” she ventured on, hands on her hips. “What happened last night was not good. Very few people recognised you but still... You don’t want to appear on page three, do you?”

“I don’t really remember what I did and I’d prefer if you didn’t tell me,” I muttered, finishing the rest of the croissant in one bite. “I just want to sleep until next year.”

Rox rolled her eyes at my dramatics. “You’re lucky your boyfriend was there to rescue you from making a further fool of yourself.”

“Boyfriend,” I snorted.

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, Rox, thank you for breakfast but I really want to be alone and contemplate my existence.”

She squinted at me. “Fine. I’ll go. See you Monday.”

“Uh-huh.”

I watched her let herself out, then I shuffled to my bathroom. A hot shower was definitely in order. Afterwards, I felt semi-normal. My brain was even able to coordinate my hands well enough to floss my teeth.

“From now on, no alcohol,” I said aloud, getting dressed. If a massive headache and slight nausea were the consequences, I wanted none of it. Not to mention the fact that I was beginning to remember how the night had ended for me.

Just as I was pulling the covers over my head once again, a knock at my front door sledge-hammered my head. Groaning, I rolled out of bed.

I bet that’s Grace. I bet she heard about last night and wants to know what’s gotten into me. She’ll be rubbing her tummy and chastising me at the same time, the absolute freak.

But it wasn’t Grace.

“Hey, you look pretty good for a girl whose boob was waving at everyone last night,” Ashton commented, slipping inside before I could shut him out and closing the door behind him. Old Spice washed over me.

“What?” I didn’t even want to know.

“Amnesia. Good call,” he said, grinning deviously.

There were a number of things I wanted to say, like how he wasn’t supposed to swing by whenever he fancied. Like how I was going to stop calling Monty to ask for him. Like how he wasn’t supposed to look that good in that black V-neck.

And now I was staring at his neck.

It was tanned and bare, his Adam’s apple bobbing ever so slightly.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll have to do something about it,” he said gruffly, quirking a dark eyebrow.

I reddened. “What do you want?”

“I’m making sure you’re OK, I guess,” he said, kicking back on my couch. He looked up at me. “It was idiotic of me to practically dare you to get drunk. You’re clearly a weakling.”

“So you come into my house and insult me?” I shook my head. “I’m not really in the mood for this right now. In case you’re blind, I look like crap.”

“Are you fishing for compliments, babe?”

I stared blankly at him.

“I have a great hangover cure.” Ashton jumped to his feet. He took my hand. “Where’s your bedroom?”

I didn’t want to admit how nice his warm hand felt devouring mine. “Nice try.”

“No, seriously,” he told me, looking at me through dark, dark eyes. “Trust me.”

Kick him out, Amor. You have to.

Oh, shut up, Conscience. You’re making my head hurt.

He dragged me to my room. “Plain and white. Just as I expected,” he remarked, closing the door firmly behind us.

“Are you calling me boring?”

He cocked his head, regarding me. “You might be a little killjoy but I wouldn’t call you boring.”

“Whatever.” I dove into the safety of my covers. “I don’t exactlyknow what you want but you can let yourself out.”

“Right,” he said, and I felt him hovering above me. “You have the most chronic nipple-stand when you’re around me. You should get that checked out.”

Unconsciously, I pressed a finger against one nipple, and true enough, it was rock-hard.

I felt pressure on one side of my mattress and inwardly groaned. The cúnt was making himself comfortable.

“Ashton...” I began, tearing my duvet off me. I sat up, glaring at him. “Go. Please.”

But he looked so good. Why did he have to look this good? His hair was even just a little wet, dark strands going haywire. I wasn’t attracted to guys who couldn’t be bothered to towel their hair dry, or even better, blow it dry. So why was I getting aroused by him like this?

“What are you thinking?” Ashton’s forest-green orbs pierced me.

I huffed out a breath. “What...what was that cure? My head kind of hurts.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Oh, that?” he said, swiftly leaning over me. “Ashton,” he breathed, his lips brushing mine. “It’s called Ashton.”

It happened in a flash. I looped my arms around his neck and pulled him down with me. He pulled the duvet clean off and pressed himself against me, his hands sliding up my vest. His fingers found the hardened nubs he’d pointed out a few minutes ago and began to tease them. My breasts suddenly felt heavier than lead.

“Wait,” I sighed as he tugged my top up and lowered his head to focus his mouth on one nipple. “Are you working right now?” I had to ask.

Ashton’s head jerked up as if he’d been slapped. “Are you shitting me?”

“I have a right to know,” I replied, feeling his entire body tense up.

His eyes were blazing. “That’s prostitution. I’m not a gigolo. I’m here because I want to be. Got it?” He sat up, pulling his shirt off and flinging it over his shoulder. I swallowed, entranced by the inches and inches of hard, golden-brown skin peppered with dark hair. “Your turn,” he challenged.

I felt like a complete teenager. There was no way I could get naked so quickly. I hadn’t even been with...

But I couldn’t resist a challenge. I tugged my top off the rest of the way and threw it to the carpet. Goosebumps prickled my flesh as his eyes raked my front. Positioning himself between my legs, his hips in between my thighs, Ashton began to lightly caress me. His fingers traced the crook of my neck, the planes of my shoulders, the crests of my breasts and finally, the smoothness of my belly. He kissed my navel, sending tiny electric shocks down my abdomen and right into my erect clítoris. My breathing was heavy and I couldn’t contain the zing of anticipation that shot right through me when he slowly pulled off my sweatpants. Now, completely naked, I felt too vulnerable.

He kissed my pússy and heat blistered my skin. Propping myself up against the headboard, I tried to catch my breath. Every little thing he did gave me the sweetest pleasure. I had the sinking feeling that if he so much as breathed on my clít, I’d come.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Ashton said gently, but I was too consumed by the maleness he exuded, the animal heat he emitted. It was too late.

Manoeuvring myself, I pushed him flat on his back and straddled him. His eyes were amazed.

He was firm under my fingertips. Bending, I nipped the flatness of his male nipples and he released a slow hiss of pleasure. My nails raked down the hardness of his perfect male chest, making him growl. His fly was under my fumbling fingers and deftly, he helped me unzip him. I took him in one hand, stroking along his hard shaft. Ashton’s entire body jerked and he swore under his breath.

“What?” I picked up the pace, rubbing a thumb over the moist head.

“You’re killing me,” he growled, his entire body tensing.

He was killing me. My entire core was pulsing for him. I was pretty sure I was dripping.

Ashton slapped my hand away, his breath ragged. Digging into his pockets, he took out a Trojan and awkwardly tried to unwrap it. I snatched it from him and neatly opened it.

“I’m not usually this eager,” he said in a low voice, kicking his jeans off.

I slid the condom on and took a deep breath. He noticed.

“We can stop if you want. I’ll probably need to use your shower but that’s okay,” he said. “Cold water, you know.”

“Don’t be silly.”

He flipped me onto my back, his eyes trained on my face. “You’re hot when you tell me off.”

And he drove into me, visibly shocked at how tight I was. It had been so long my pússy clenched around him in a death-grip. He filled me up so perfectly it was all I could do not to climax right then. As soon as I accepted all of him, he was ruthless with his thrusts, pummelling into me with a brutality I welcomed. The tightness in my belly was becoming unbearable and as I met him thrust for thrust, I could feel that I was on the brink of ecstasy. His mouth was hungry for me and his tongue incessant. The bed shifted as we tossed and turned, as we rode and bucked. I couldn’t see where my body ended and his began, couldn’t separate my sweat from his. In a flurry of spasms and a cacophony of gasps, we climaxed together, our arms and legs tangled.

“Amor.” Ashton’s voice was a low groan in my ear. “I think you broke my d!ck.”