A/N: This is a bit of an experiment. This is going to be a series of oneshots, all in the same universe and all in the same story told in a non-linear fashion. I hope you enjoy it!
X, X, trigger, down, left, A, down, left, B, repeat.
Alfred had it down, he finally mastered the sequence to kill this snarky little fucker in his game, he was on his twelfth time trying to kill this final boss and, after a series of trial and error, he figured out the exact way his character had to move to actually get some shots in.
The American barely heard his wife, too engrossed in the video game at hand. In order to keep her pleased he would wait for her to stop talking, before giving the woman vague remarks of, "Mhmm." "Yeah." "Cool beans."
Anya wasn't nearly as entertained as her husband. She leered at him and crossed her arms. This was the exact same thing that happened night after night. Well, not night after night, she was exaggerating. But it did happen several times a week. "Alfred, you are not listening to me." She didn't like it when she wasn't listened to. Here she was trying to give him attention and receive it in return and he was too engrossed in his game to care.
"Yeah, Alice was being a total bitch." Alfred mumbled, his body swaying as if he himself was dodging the attack from the final boss and not just his persona. It took a minute for Anya to understand what her husband was talking about, but it finally dawned on him he thought they were still on the topic of her annoying British co worker. She had mentioned her about an hour ago.
Anya didn't appreciate this. Sure, at some point it meant that Alfred had been listening, but it also meant he wasn't listening right then. "I want you to fuck me in the ass as hard as you can. Right now.," she said, in as casual a voice as she could, just trying to gauge her husband's reaction. She would know for sure if he wasn't listening at all or just listening for cue words.
"Yeah, that's really weird," Alfred murmured, leaning forward and glaring at the screen, his thumbs slamming down on the keys, probably bruising them in the process. He'd broken several controllers from being too rough on them. His head tilted and he grunted, wincing as his character was hit. He was getting there, he was so close.
Once she got her confirmation, Anya got to her feet and went to the bathroom. When she came back out she was wiping off her black lipstick, and instead had a new stick in her hand. She didn't make her movement dramatic at all. In fact, she kept talking like she had been. "You know, I may be getting longer lunch breaks soon." She uncapped the dark red lipstick, twisting it up. Lipfinity, her favourite brand. It dried quickly and it didn't leave stains.
The smell of lipstick reached the young man's nose, it had a strong scent that Alfred recognized immediately, thick and waxy. He snapped his head up, immediately staring at Anya with an almost trained response. The man was conditioned, there was no doubt about it, that would explaining the natural twitching in his pants. The man watched as she held up the stick, his focus completely on his wife . She was wearing the red lipstick... That only meant one thing.
Anya was very slow and very deliberate as she applied the lipstick, pulling out her little mirror. Every now and then she would quickly dab away a little smudge or a corner that wasn't perfect with a tissue. "I might be able to come home for lunch, even." She slowly finished up her top lip and slid her tongue over it. It didn't smudge a bit.
The screeching and yelling and terrible background music of the game was silenced as Alfred turned off the console. He was literally one hit away from killing the boss, one strike and he would have beaten the game, but it wasn't worth it. Not one bit. All that he wanted was what was to follow Anya doing her lipstick. He nodded his head seriously, staring at the woman with wide eyes. "Oh, yeah? That's cool, I can, uh, make you lunch."
"Would you? That is such a sweet thing to do." She sat down beside him as she very carefully began to paint her bottom lip with the lipstick. She was slow about it. The Russian woman leaned back, wiping her entire bottom lip clean sometimes if it didn't look perfect. "Monday could be the first day, what would we have?"
The bulge in Alfred's pants was slowly forming, twitching and swelling and rubbing against his zipper through thin underwear. He nodded his head slowly, watching her with parted lips and an unblinking gaze. "Whatever you want, babe," he mumbled, completely compliant with the woman as she prettied herself up.
"I think I would like you to make me your cute little homemade hamburgers. Despite my hatred for McDonald's I can admit you made yours delightful." Anya finally, finally set down the tissue and pressed her lips together, making a slight pop with them as she puckered up. She leaned over and started to kiss him, his cheek at first, leading over to his nose and finally his lips. The lipstick didn't leave a single mark.
Alfred's words of agreement were cut off by the lips trailing over his face, the man turning into complete jelly under the older woman's touch. To say Anya was out of Alfred's league was the understatement of the century. Alfred was dorky and unemployed and the highest form of education he had was a few years at a community college. But here was this beautiful, older woman who just seemed to adore him- thick and curvy with plump lips and long eyelashes. Physically and mentally, everything about her was perfect.
"No response?" Anya crooned as she stroked his cheek, delighted at just how hung up he seemed to be on her now that he actually took a notice of what she was doing. She slid down onto the floor, settling on her knees and pushing Alfred's legs apart. She idly began to run her finger down the stitches of his pants, right along the crotch. She didn't touch the zipper. Not yet.
God, that right there was what he had been waiting for. That lipstick, that perfect fucking lipstick, whenever she put it on it meant he was getting a blowjob. Everytime without fail. Anya played him like an upright bass, all she had to do was pop out that little tube and the man was under her control. Carefully he reached out, fingers just barely brushing her bangs, not quite touching her yet. He'd wait to touch her, until she touched him.
Anya took his hand by the wrist and pushed against it softly, smiling up at him with her painted lips and violet eyes. Her lips were turned up in a twisted smirk, betraying how she was thinking a lot more than her coy persona lead on. She flicked his zipped and idly tugged it down, slowly, so they could hear every single rib being popped free. "You seem nervous."
Alfred let his fingers comb into her soft hair, long strands twining through his long fingers. He touched her gently, as if he were handling a priceless artifact, as if the wrong touch would cause her to shatter to the ground. "Do I?" His lips barely moved as he spoke, words coming out breathy. "Maybe...I don't know." All he knew was he wanted those pretty plump lips wrapped around his cock.
"Oh, sweetheart, you know I can always tell when you're nervous." Anya had a way of just knowing, exactly what he was feeling. He was an open book to her. She tugged the button open and prodded gently at his twitching shaft beneath his underwear. Slowly she pulled the hem of his pants down, until she had perfect access to him.
She moved so slowly, it was like every move was methodical, she was thinking four steps ahead and Alfred was trailing behind her desperately, trying to just keep on the next step. His breath came out in short pants, his fingers gently stroking through her hair, pushing her bangs out of her face, not wanting anything to obscure his vision.
Anya was very aware of Alfred's compulsion and visionary desperation. She gladly flipped her platinum hair over her shoulders and tucked it behind her ears as she dragged a finger down his crotch, over the twitching bulge. She dipped a couple fingers into his slit, tugging it through his boxers and rubbing the tip of her finger against Alfred's crown. "You're such a funny little boy, you know that?" she teased, sliding her pink tongue over her dark, rich red lips.
Alfred was flushed, tanned skin growing pink and the tips of his ears eerily similar to the color of her lips. He was so easily embarrassed, he still acted like a kid- practically what he was compared to her. He was still awkward and boyish and she had captured the essence of woman. "Why am I funny?" He didn't protest being called a little boy, she would just laugh at him and tease him more if he did.
"You get so flustered and sweet. Such a sweet thing, really." Alfred was young and chipper, but Anya could help him grow into a fine man. Not that she was actively waiting for Alfred grow up. She rather liked how easy and predictable he was to play around with. Her husband was such an easily pleased boy.
Anya curled a finger around Alfred's cock and leaned in, tongue curling out to lap at the head of his sensitive flesh. She was teasing him, as if to ask him 'do you really want it?'
Alfred's eyes fluttered as she worked at his cock expertly, his breathing inhaling sharply through his teeth. "I-I tried to be aggressive with you that one time..." He had thought that Anya would want someone more masculine, more assertive, so he tried to do just that... It didn't end very well on his part. His hands shook and he stared down at the woman, watching her every expression.
"Real men don't need to be aggressive to please a woman." Anya was very opinionated on her views of masculinity, and even femininity. She wrapped her entire hand around his shaft and kissed the tip with her painted lips. It was almost sad that they didn't leave marks sometimes. She would have loved to leave red lip prints all around Alfred's cock.
"It hurt to get hard for two weeks," he grunted through clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering, struggling to keep locked on that beautiful woman between his legs. Alfred's hands tugged at the hair, though soft and loving, not even enough to make the woman wince. "How much longer are you plannin' on teasin'?" His breath came out short, more like little gasps than anything.
"How much longer do you need to be teased?" Anya didn't play around with this, she knew exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She lapped at the crown of his shaft, finger circling his cock and playing with the foreskin. She didn't give him everything he wanted, not yet. But soon.
"Not long, shiiit, you're killing me." Alfred had broken out into a sweat, his forehead damp and little curls forming at the nape of his neck. He hunched over a bit, stroking both fingers through the woman's hair, closing his eyes for a few seconds, then opening them back up. "If-ahh-if you tease too long, I'll cum too soon." That would have been a disappointment for both of them.
"Oh, I know." She knew all too well. Anya licked her lips seductively and pulled away, teasingly stroking him. "I suppose you are deserving." She started to lap at the head of his shaft once more before kissing the tip and slowly enveloping it between her dark red lips. There was no recklessness, she was very deliberate about this. She made no mistakes.
The noise that left Alfred was less of a moan and more of a sigh, as if he were more relieved than pleasured. His eyes slipped shut, unable to open for a minute or so, before his fingers suddenly tightened in her hair and his hips twitched up. Only a fraction of an inch, but the look on Alfred's face was as if he had completely throat fucked the girl. "S-Shit, sorry!"
Alfred's only reprimand was being pinched on the thigh. The less physical part of it was a stern look on Anya's face, looking very unamused at him. She didn't very much enjoy being put out of her point of power. Not that she had been pushed out of it at all, she just thought she'd had Alfred better trained than that. She pulled off and pinched the tip of his cock. "You should have more control than that, Alfred."
Alfred's eyes widened and a squeak, a noise unfitting of someone as masculine as Alfred, left him. "I-I'm sorry, I just- ahh, shit, I just got excited!" He had learned very early in the relationship that trying to take control, trying to take any form of power away from his wife (and back then, girlfriend) would end very badly. Usually he could control himself, but every now and then she got him too riled up and he couldn't control what his body did.
"Excitement is something that you should only externalize in certain circumstances." Like when she actually let him fuck her in missionary position, that was a good time, because then he could hit all her best spots as hard as he possibly could.
Anya tried not to let that ruin their mood, and went back down, slowly pushing her lips over his cock and beginning to bob her head. She was finally relieving him, giving him what he wanted most. It all depended on how long he decided to make it last.
Alfred didn't risk even touching his wife. His hands instead gripped at the cushions under him, while his but stayed firmly planted in the seat. His face was slowly turning an unsightly shade of red, while the veins in his neck pulsated and pricked and pushed up his skin unpleasantly. The man, in his state of excitement at finally having gotten the head he so desperately wanted, had forgotten to breathe.
Anya laughed as she noticed this, pulling off momentarily. "Don't forget to keep yourself alive, silly little boy." She found just the littlest things about him amusing. "How am I going to make a man out of you if you do thing like that?" She teased, of course, it was only teasing. She ducked back down, bobbing her head on his shaft, slow and sensual, lips dragging. If it were any other brand of lipstick, it would have been smeared all over his cock by now.
Alfred took in his breath on demand, the red fading from his face and his glossy eyes clearing up somewhat. He blinked rapidly, then managed a sheepish smile down towards his wife, his hand reaching up to cup her by the temple. "Will you, nnn-" He shuddered, then shook his head, trying to remember just what he were about to ask. "Will you go down all the way?" That was always his favorite, rare treat. When she took him down to the hilt and let her throat work his shaft.
Anya didn't mind when he asked for her to do things. But she would continue to be slow about it. But for him, she sped it up a little, eventually getting all the way down and deepthroating him, bobbing up and down. Alfred was no big deal for her to deepthroat, she'd had bigger. Not that she would outwardly say that to him, it would hurt his feelings.
Alfred's head hung forward and her name came out, first in breathy little pants, then full out moans. His fingers stroked lovingly through her hair, touching down to the nape of her neck, gathering her long hair into a small ponytail, holding it so she could watch as his cock slide in and out of her mouth. She was perfect at this, she was perfect at everything she did. "Damnit, damnit, shit, fuck-" curses came from him rapid and quick, he wasn't usually so foul-mouthed, only during sex.
Anya couldn't help but snort and giggle just a bit around his shaft. It was amusing to watch him lose the cool front he attempted to keep for her. But she knew how to bring that out of him. She much preferred him being his dorky, sweet, easily embarrassed self. She started to suck as she bobbed, putting more power into her skill.
Alfred's hands shook and his mouth salivated, pink tongue poking out to swipe over his soft lips, collecting any drool that might have formed. He'd never drooled on his wife and he wanted it to stay that way. He wasn't sure what would happen if he did drool on the woman, but he was sure that whatever happened would be unpleasant for him. "Close," he breathed, shaking his head and swallowing audibly. "Close-close-close-close..."
"I know you are." She pulled off momentarily, stroking him idly as she looked up at him with sultry, bedroom violet eyes that seemed to taunt him. Anya idly began to pop open the buttons of her blazer, showing off her magnificent cleavage while she leaned back down to envelope Alfred in her mouth.
Alfred's fingers twitched out, as if to grab at Anya's chest, though they stopped an inch away, just stretching and twitching, but never quite touching. He wouldn't grab her without her permission- not unless he wanted to get his dick bit. "Touch," he blurted, sounding like a toddler demanding a cookie. His speech function had shit itself and died and he was left with basic skills. HIs cheeks tinged and he composed an actual sentence this time, "c-can I touch them?"
Anya snorted over his shaft, and unbuttoned her professional shirt further, showing off her lacy black bra and the breasts stuck inside them. The bra was at least one cup size too short, since her breasts were practically falling out, even the very tip of her areola were showing. She invited him in with a gesture, welcoming him to touch as he pleased while she went on with her blowing.
One hand remained snaked into her hair, while the other slid down, cladly slipping into the tight bra, retrieving her breast and beginning to rub. Despite the size of his hand, it was dwarfed in comparison to the woman's chest. He cupped it and massaged it and finally began to gently pinch and rub at a nipple. After a few seconds of groping his other hand slid down as well, withdrawing her neglected one and beginning to mirror the actions. "Christ- you're perfect, Anya..."
"Mmm..." Anya couldn't help but mewl around Alfred's shaft, still bobbing as he played with her breasts. He had such an affinity for using his hands, whether it was her hair, her face, her breasts of a reach around, he was always doing something with his hands. That was by no means a bad thing.
His fingers began to pinch harder, causing the nipples to pucker and swell as he abused them, before they suddenly turned loving. "Where do you want it?" Alfred's voice came out as nothing more than a hiss, eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared. This was probably the most aggressive he ever got, right when he was about to come, when that animalistic side showed. However, even when he was 'rough' he was soft, gentle, nothing more than a growling puppy.
Anya gasped as Alfred continued to play with her nipples, a little harder than before. "I'll swallow," she breathed out as she pulled off momentarily. She usually swallowed, unless she was in the mood for something else. Honestly she thought swallowing was just the polite thing to do. And Alfred had a fairly good taste, if she did say so herself.
Alfred gasped, his eyes snapping open as the woman suddenly pulled off his cock. "A-Anya! God! Fuckfuckfuck- I need to cum, please- shit- keep sucking on my cock, please!" He didn't demand, he made sure to get those damn 'please's in, if he didn't she wouldn't feel very happy to give him more head and if she didn't want to do it, then she just wouldn't.
Lucky for Alfred, Anya was rather enjoying their little escapade. So she kept on doing it, sucking a little harder and swallowing his shaft all the way down to the root and letting her throat muscles work him rather than putting too much effort into it herself. Better to let it happen naturally, until she had to come up for air.
A tug of her hair was all Anya received before Alfred had cum. His sexual neglect was clear by the sheer amount he managed to spray into the woman's mouth and pump down her throat. He gasped and moaned and mewled audibly, not bothering to hide his moans, just expressed his delight as his hips twitched and his cock spasmed in her mouth.
When he was completely done, Anya pulled back and licked her lips, having already swallowed everything. "Delightful," she assured him, smirking at him and wiping her upper lip with her index finger seductively before she sucked on it, cleaning it of anything that she had happened to wipe from her lip. "Have you learned your lesson, naughty boy?"
Alfred nodded his head slowly, gathering the woman up into his arms and nuzzling into the crook of her neck. "Won't ignore you no more," he breathed sleepily, giving her a soft squeeze, before fulling pulling her onto his lap. He kissed at her soft neck, lips drawn into a smile. "...'Least not when you put on that lipstick..."