This is a short of and from nothing particular. It's mostly for experimental purposes. I may or may not adapt this short into a story, it just depends on if enough people bug me into expanding. I'm experimenting with different genres, steamy romance, as this one is, and steampunk. You will notice there are no names. I did it on purpose. Like I said this is just an experimental short. I would love any and all comments. I do appreciate the positives as well as the negatives. You can't get better if no one tells you you're wrong!
Thank you everyone who reads this!
Also, this is pretty graphic. I rate it was PG14. So if you have little eyes over your shoulder or a religious family member, fair warning now. This isn't all sweet and romantic.
It was odd for someone as wealthy as he was in my crappy little car I got from a friend of my father's. It was almost laughable. Almost.
What was even funnier, is that he's grocery shopping with me. I had to wonder if he'd even gone before or if there was a person paid to do it for him. I'd kill to be paid to go shopping. Even if it was just for food.
He sat nonchalantly in the passenger seat. His elbow rested on the door with his long fingers barely touching the top. The wind from the open window blew his perfectly unkempt hair. His legs were spread open as if to imply he was comfortable.
It was pretty funny actually and I couldn't help but whisper a laugh.
Of all things, she wore cutoff shorts. I was told she was the queen of recycling clothes, so I had every reason to believe they used to be pants. And by the looks of them, they were either her favorite pair, or only pair. She also wore a white tank top with a dark blue bra. The two colors contrasted greatly. It was almost sexy how trashy she looked. Anyone else, the look would've been on purpose, but I knew her well enough to know that she was just that clueless.
I couldn't help but grin. It looked more like a sneer in the side view mirror.
We pulled into a spot close enough to the door. I hate navigating through parking lots.
I veered off to grab a cart. He kept walking. Some part of me expected him to wait, because that's what polite people do. Apparently, rich playboys didn't get that life lesson growing up. When I finally found a cart that didn't squeal, fight back, and turned left and right, I made my way rather awkwardly into the store.
The summer air outside was warm enough to tolerate. Unfortunately, my attire was suited for the blast of cold air from the inside. I shivered and rubbed my arms to make the goosebumps go away. I hate being cold. I deliberately moved south to avoid the winters of the northern mid-west. Anything below 65 degrees is unacceptable, but I have an extreme irrational fear of moving out of the country. Otherwise my permanent location would be the Equator.
I glanced around, not really expecting to find him. But I did.
He stood with his back to me in the produce section. His hand hovered over the bin of apples. The way he stood was perfect. His posture was impeccable. It was hard to distinguish whether he was a man or a well placed statue.
I let him be but wandered in his direction so he'd at least see me. I pulled out the list I made from my back pocket to examine.
I love apples. When I was young, I ate so many at one time my gums bled for an hour. My mouth was so sore the next day. Every one of my baby teeth was lost due to eating an apple. Caramel apples, baked apples, candy apples, apple sauce, apple juice, apple flavored candy, sour apples, Granny Smith apples, McIntosh apples, apple pie, apple tarts... Hell, I even liked Snow White.
My thoughts were momentarily interrupted when I saw her. She only came this way so we wouldn't be too separated. It was polite.
I was also drawn to the mismatched tattoos that littered her body. There was one in particular; a vine with fluorescent flowers of different sizes and colors. It started on her left foot and curved and wound its way up her leg and outer thigh until it disappeared under her shorts.
The thought of tracing it pulled at my pants. She started walking, which made it worse.
He didn't hang around much. I really didn't mind anyway. I felt less awkward that way.
I finally paid for my things. He was waiting rather patiently at the end of the register. He yanked the cart away before I could get to it.
"I'll push it," he said casually.
It was the first time he had spoken to me since he agreed to come along.
"Thanks," I said with a vague smile. My hands felt useless so I pulled out my car keys to hold on to.
We made our way easily back to my car and, unexpectedly, he put the bags in the trunk and walked the cart back. I sat and waited in my car.
Is this what it was to have a boyfriend who actually gave a shit?
"We're not even dating," I said to myself.
It was still nice to have a guy do something for me.
He hurried back to the car and we left.
That feeling in my pants was still there. It faded somewhat. I thought if I tasked myself with something mundane, the little man would go back into hiding.
Jesus, was I wrong.
The drive back was just as quiet as earlier but he did help haul in the bags. This time it only took the one trip. I bought a little extra than usual, knowing he was with me. I live on the third floor of my apartment building and hauling multiple loads of bags by yourself just really sucks. Makes for great butt and legs though if I do say so myself.
My small apartment was a little too quiet for my liking. The rustling of the bags filled the void for a short time.
"Give me the cold stuff," he said reaching around me to search the counter.
I handed him a couple bags and he turned back towards the refrigerator.
"Thanks for helping," I said, our backs turned toward each other.
"Yep," he said coolly.
A few minutes later I heard the refrigerator door close. I bought mostly dry and canned food since it lasted longer.
I had a few bags left and was reaching over the sink to put a box away. Suddenly, I felt him push his body into me and take the box from my hand before placing it into the cabinet. I didn't know what to do besides freeze. He gently pushed my arm back down. I felt very hot and nervous.
"Everything cold is put away," he said into my ear.
I was caught so off guard I didn't even notice how close he really was until I felt his breath on me. It sent shivers down my spine.
I could smell his cologne. I was standard Axe spray, but there was something else. Surging testosterone maybe? It was intoxicating. His hands slipped under my top and rested on my waist. I could feel his finger tips dig into my skin.
"You can wait to put the rest away if you want." He was right in my ear. His voice was so low, it tickled when he talked.
I felt my cheeks burning and my heart pounded furiously in my chest.
"I can?" I asked nervously.
I felt him nod slightly and his lips on my ear. I also felt when they parted and his hot breath as he spoke again.
"I can feel your heartbeat from back here. Don't worry, I want you that much, too."
My eyes widened in embarrassed shock.
Oh, dear God, I thought.
She was small. I felt her shake and wondered if she knew she was doing it. She also smelled amazing. Apple scented shampoo. Of course. It must have been cheap. It smelled cheap but I was too much of a sucker for apple anything.
What I said was true though. I did want her. Even here in this tiny kitchen. I wanted to see for myself just how far that tattoo went up and what body parts it was close to.
I let him do whatever he wanted. I didn't really have a choice. I was caught so off guard that my mind was still in shock. Besides, he was right. I did want him. His body was too warm and solid to not want.
I couldn't really say anything. I was far too flustered and my heart wouldn't let my stomach stop turning long enough for me to get any words out. He didn't seem to take any offense as his right hand found the top of my shorts. His fingers played with the skin right above my underwear. I couldn't help but push back into him. My knees were too weak to stand on my own.
His breathing went from relatively calm to ragged in five seconds flat. He reached his left hand up and grabbed my hair forcing my head to tilt to the side. His lips were now navigating the skin there which shot jolts down to my fingertips.
I let my eyes close and found it damn near impossible to open them again. His left hand fumbled over the button on my shorts but managed to undo it quickly. He unzipped them next, this time slowly.
She squirmed as I slipped my hand back down. It made me pull her hair harder. Her underwear was hot as I moved down farther and found a wet spot. She let out a whimper and I sunk my teeth into her neck. It was out of pure impulse and that's when I got a really good taste of her.
Oh. My. God.
She was a mix of sweet, salty, and raging female hormones.
I pushed myself into her more so she was completely pinned between me and the counter. She wasn't going to move unless I let her.
I played with the edge of her panties, letting my fingers slip underneath every so often. She moaned quietly which made me want to do everything I could to make her scream. I sucked at her neck leaving marks. I wanted to let everyone know that for the time being, she is mine. I shoved my hand under her panties and found the sweet spot. She was burning under my fingertips and I wanted her even more. She moaned louder as my fingers wiggled their way inside.
As much as I wanted to be in her, I was having too much fun with the foreplay. Letting go of her hair, I tugged at the bottom of her shirt.
"Take it off," I ordered in her ear.
A new wave of goosebumps formed on her neck. My voice sounded hoarse and out of breath. I didn't want to talk at all, but there were things she needed to do for me.
She did as she was told though, lifting the shirt up and over her head before I ripped it out of her hands and threw it behind me somewhere. I didn't have time for clothes. I just wanted her to be done wearing them.
My eyes caught the tattoo. It went up the side and swooped down and ended in a curl on her back. In the center of that curl was a scroll. Some memorial to someone. I didn't care right then.
I pulled at the hooks on her cheap navy blue bra until it came apart. She helped pull it off and as punishment for not waiting for me to order her to do it, I thrust my fingers deeper inside. She cried out in painful ecstasy. I knew that sound well. I knew it hurt. And I knew girls liked it. I sunk my teeth deeper on her neck and bit hard.
She cried out, a bit louder this time in the otherwise quiet apartment. If she was this loud now, I could only imagine how loud she'd be if I were really inside.
I reached my now free left hand over her stomach and felt her muscles contract over and over again. It was incredibly sexy. Making a girl move without her control was a feeling like no other. It gave me total control to do whatever I pleased. To make her loose herself that much that her own actions were purely instinct, was almost too much. Which is where my demands came in. Rational thought gone, she'll do as I say.
Total control. And that was hot.
I let my fingertips drag across her skin. It was smooth and warm and I already knew how it tasted.
The want was enough to make my pants explode. They suddenly felt too tight. My hands, however, were preoccupied to do anything about it.
After what seemed an eternity navigating her belly, I managed to find a breast. I felt her chest move up and down and the steady pounding of her heart beat. I spread my hand over her perfectly small breast and squeezed. It felt like... I smiled and laughed to myself... an apple.
And, God, I love apples.
I stopped thinking a long time ago. I ran on impulse and let him make his move. His hands felt amazing on my skin and I was desperate to find out what the rest of him felt like.
The only problem? I couldn't move. And I didn't care.
The want turned to need before it became too much to too much to handle.
I undid my own pants and let them hang. The extra room felt great. Then I pulled my hand out of her pants to pull them down before spinning her around. I wanted to see what she looked like completely naked before I was too engrossed with being inside her.
She was pale with splashes of color on her skin that made her look like she was made up of paintings. The longer I looked, the more I appreciated the artwork and the human body. Everything about her was small which was promising. I wanted to feel as much of her as I could.
My eyes were satisfied, the rest of me wasn't. I pinned her against the counter and pulled off my own shirt. I wanted to feel her skin against mine. Even still I could feel her heart pounding. I felt her nipples hardening and crushed my mouth against hers.
Her breath was minty and sweet and I forced her lips open more so I could slip my tongue in. Her fingernails sunk into my chest and I grabbed her hips and thrust them into mine.
We kissed for the longest time. I opened my eyes long enough to make sure hers were closed. They were.
I hooked a thumb into my boxers and pulled them until they fell to the floor. She whimpered into my mouth which only made my desire stronger. It drove me crazy. I was already as hard as I was going to get, so I grabbed her under her extremely firm ass and lifted so she was on the edge of the counter. I was taller and the counter gave me a better angle.
Her hands were now around m neck and in my hair, pulling and twisting.
Before realizing I had done it, a part of me managed to slip inside. Our breathing was heavy, ragged.
I wanted to savor the moment, remember the sounds, the smells. I eased in slowly and she moaned through every inch of me. She pulled at my neck inviting me further in and I obliged until out hips touched.
My only thoughts were scrambled into one long run-on sentence. It only got worse when he started moving his hips back and forth, in and out.
Oh my God we're in my kitchen this is amazing I can't breath this is so unsanitary I feel like I'm going to explode I hope no one catches up I live alone never mind Jesus what does he want with me who cares I don't want him to stop.
Pretty soon I felt myself loosing myself. That was ok. With each moan and cry and whimper I thrusted harder and faster. I made it my quest to find that one sound, that one that would make everything better. That one that would guarantee a round two.
After a few minutes of grabbing, pulling and grinding, that sound finally came. Or rather, she did. As she screamed, I felt her contract several times and it was very hard for me to concentrate.
I felt some remorse for not moving to her bed or even the couch, but I just wanted her too badly to think about niceties. Besides, I've always wanted to to have sex in a kitchen. I've come to think os it as a clean place which is why it felt so dirty.
I thrust harder, faster, deeper. I could tell she was close again and so was I until finally there was nothing I could do about it but let go. Her cry was more intense this time and my voice found a way to escape in a low, drawn out moan. I felt her contract and shudder and it made me want more but I was too worn out.
She still clung to my shoulders and I could feel my own muscles move under the weight of them. I looked at her face and noticed her cheeks were flushed, her eyes heavy with satisfaction. Her pouty, full lips were pouted as she panted. I wanted to taste more of her but was nervous at how'd she react.
It was a funny thing. Me being nervous about a girl I had just seduced into having sex with me in her own kitchen.
Her clothes were trashy. Her shampoo was cheap. But her? Priceless.
What the hell was happening to me?
I didn't know how I was supposed to feel. He was a catch. He's fantastic. He's perfect. But I felt awkward now.
What the hell was happening to me?