A/N; This is not at all sweet, I don't really know where it came from and I wrote it in like an hour really late one night.
And then it sat in my drafts for like three months until I finally finished it up.
This is really, really, really not a love story.
This is written in first person from Ally's point of view.
It was fun to be in horny Ally's head for a little while. A lot of fun, actually.
It's extremely OOC, but I'm not sure of why I feel the need to warn you, as I think that's more like the rule than the exception at this point.
I decided to turn this into a two-shot, because legally there can only be so much smut in one chapter, so keep your eyes open for part two, it should be cumming soon.
Please let me know what you guys think.
I was bored.
Out of my mind.
But what else was new.
It was kind of late, yet not nearly late enough.
That usually seemed to be the case when I was at work, though.
Working as a hotel receptionist was exactly as much fun as it sounded.
It hadn't exactly been my first choice, but unfortunately I couldn't live off of dreams alone.
The lobby was currently empty, and I felt like the big clock hanging on the adjacent wall was mocking me, each tiny little move towards the final destination (also known as the time that my shift would be over) almost purposefully slow, the ticking sound functioning as a too bland yet disturbingly fitting soundtrack to my life.
It was almost as if time was literally standing still.
And sometimes, often, I felt like it kind of did.
Nothing exciting ever happened around here.
It was Friday, which meant that we were busier than usual, but then again, not busy enough.
I was getting out in an hour.
60 puny minutes that managed to somehow feel like a damn eternity.
If it was true that time flies when you're having fun, the opposite was clearly accurate as well.
I couldn't remember ever being as bored before, but maybe that was only because the days of uneventfulness blended together into a long, grayish mass of...blah.
To be completely honest, though, I wasn't exactly sure of why I was in such a rush to get out of there.
It's not like I was doing anything fun afterwards, anyways.
Sure, I had a date-ish...engagement.
With Dallas.
I didn't really want to think about it.
It wasn't a date, really, or if it was, if I had to call it that, it was a charity date, one I had simply agreed to to earn some much needed positive dating karma.
It was a good deed. That's what it was.
I was doing it to be nice.
That didn't mean that I was going to enjoy it, though.
Maybe it would have been nicer, better, to just turn him down, but fuck, I didn't have the heart for it, as I had already done so countless times. He was so overly persistent, like a non-understanding, disobedient two-year old, unable to accept no for an answer, no matter how many times I declined his invites.
He had finally just wore me out and I had reluctantly given in as my patience had reached the point of non-existence, which coincidentally matched the level of affection I felt towards him.
Dallass.
There really wasn't anything wrong with him, he just wasn't right.
At least not for me.
He, on the other hand, seemed to be living under some misguided notion that we were meant to be, or something.
Eww.
He was looking for the one, hoping to find his match made in cliche heaven, the co-star in his own ultimate love story, the story he would tell his grandchildren in front of sparkling fires while drinking delicious, homemade hot chocolate...
It kind of made me want to puke.
It wasn't necessarily that I didn't believe in love.
As a matter of fact, I was a hopeless romantic, I loved love, but at this point, it was in a similar way to that of someone who was going through their 8th divorce and still believed in marriage.
It was nice in theory.
But Dallas and me together wasn't even nice in theory.
I thought of him as a friend.
Sort of.
To be completely honest, he wasn't even in the friend zone, because that would entail me wanting to hang out with him as well, friends, and I wasn't sure about that.
Or, rather, I was sure I didn't want that.
Dallas was dumb as a rock.
A dumb rock.
I sighed in purebred boredom, probably for the 18th time in the last minute, when the sliding glass doors suddenly shut open and in walked God.
God was blonder than I had pictured, and tall. Very tall.
Beardless.
And quite a but younger than was commonly believed.
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which was more on the casual side than I had expected, but then again, I also hadn't expected to meet him there, in the lobby of a semi-nice, but unexciting yet still overpriced hotel.
He was rolling a small bag behind him, and he cursed out loud as one of the small wheels got stuck in the door.
So God had a dirty mouth.
Huh.
I'm not going to pretend that I didn't enjoy the profanities coming out from between his nice looking lips.
So maybe he wasn't an actual God.
It didn't really matter, though, as I was pretty sure that he could still be my road to salvation and my savior, perhaps not from my sins (pretty sure he could create some new ones, though), but most likely from my chronic case of distress. And sexual dissatisfaction.
He smiled slightly once our eyes met, and I was in heaven.
Fuck me. He had dimples. Dimples that I wanted to run my tongue over, dimples that I wanted to live in, dimples that I wanted to make love to...
Ironically, he was hot as hell. Maybe even hotter.
He looked slightly familiar for some odd reason, and I got the feeling as if I recognized him from somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
I wanted him to finger me, though.
He was still smiling at me, a smile that kind of made me literally weak in the knees.
Or perhaps weaker.
It was a good thing I was behind the counter, slightly leaning up against it, or I might have fallen down and turned into a cliche puddle of mush on the cheap, tile lobby floor, unashamedly worshipping at his feet.
As it was, though, the only puddle present was the ever-growing one in my slowly no longer dry underwear.
The panty-ruiner's hair was light, and messy, as if someone had recently ran their fingers through it.
I was instantly and irrationally jealous of said somebody.
He didn't have a lot of luggage, just that small bag, but he was accompanied by two large, grumpyish men in black jackets, both of them looking as if they could use an ounce of loosening up and just a pinch of fun, along with a heavy dose of exercise.
I immediately wondered what they were doing at my hotel.
Well, not my hotel.
Trust me, had it been my hotel, I wouldn't have been working the late-night Friday shift at the front desk.
Or any other shifts either, for that matter.
"Checking in?" My voice sounded different, like it was a few pitches too high, but it wasn't as if he would know that.
I was hoping that he wouldn't notice my almost heavy breathing, either.
He was not very likely to miss that, though, as I was almost hyperventilating, on the verge of passing out, mentally praying that he was certified in CPR, but who the fuck was I kidding, I would allow him to mouth-to-mouth me anytime, anywhere, no certification needed.
He could mouth-to-other-body-parts me too, if he was so inclined.
He nodded. "I have a reservation."
His voice was a freaking choir.
Masculine yet soft, like the growl of a grizzly bear that just wanted to cuddle.
I had to clear my throat. "Name?"
I halfway expected him to answer Bond. James Bond.
For some reason, he kind of reminded me of a movie star. And I bet he would look extraordinarily good in a tux.
And/or in nothing.
Whatever.
He licked his lips before he responded, a quick movement that was almost unnoticeable, yet made my body respond in all sorts of noticeable ways.
How did he manage to do that?
"It's under Sun." He smiled, or perhaps smirked, as if there was a joke I wasn't a part of, or maybe a riddle that he was almost impatiently waiting for me to figure out the answer to.
He was giving me too much credit, though, as the only mystery I was currently willing to solve was the question of what was hidden inside of those tight jeans of his.
Oh, and I wanted to be under the Sun.
Snap out of it.
After all, my job was to check him in, not to check him out.
I tried to focus on said job, which unfortunately didn't involve me sucking his dick, but rather consisted of the mundane task of pressing some buttons and get him into his room.
And oh, him getting in to things...
Gah.
Fine, so focusing was clearly an impossible task, but I did my best.
He had the seldom booked penthouse reserved and prepaid, of course he did, because why the hell not, along with one other, luxurious room.
"Just one night?" I was kind of hoping that the booking would be incorrect.
He nodded. "Just traveling through."
That didn't surprise me. Maybe it disappointed me, but it didn't surprise me.
People didn't usually linger around our town, as there were absolutely no reasons to do so.
There was literally nothing to see.
I wasn't even completely sure why I was still there.
"You're all set, Mr. Sun." I handed him the room cards, my fingers 'accidentally' touching his while doing so, and he smiled.
Right at me.
It was like looking directly into actual sunlight, hot and bright, and it made it difficult to see straight.
Yet I couldn't look away.
"So, Ally, what is there to do around here on a Friday night?"
Me.
Me me me me me.
Oh wait, I didn't say that.
Sorry.
It was kind of hard to think of anything else, as I was mentally obsessing over how good it would be to have him fuck me hard up against the counter.
Wait...
How the heck did he know my name?
Oh.
Right.
There was a tacky name tag obnoxiously plastered across my chest.
Did that mean that he had been looking at my boobs?
Not that I minded.
I would prefer for him to do more than look.
I was probably blushing, as a result of the all but appropriate images that were now playing on repeat in my mind, like a movie, one where him and I had the two starring roles.
Oh, and the movie was one of the bad pornos that the hotel guests could discreetly rent from their room for the bargain price of $9.99. Plus tax.
I was trying to keep a straight face as my mind fast forwarded to the more descriptive parts of said movie, and if I was successful, my face was the only part of my body that remained unaffected.
He was still observing me, an almost amused look in his eyes.
He had long eye lashes.
And amazing, brown eyes.
Fuck, he made me nervous.
I was incredibly grateful that my hair was pulled up into a perhaps too messy ponytail, or there might have been some excessive and embarrassing hair chewing taking place.
I finally managed to shrug, mostly because there really was no good answer to his question, as there really wasn't much to do around here. The few clubs were all lame, the restaurants all but appetizing and the very limited selection of movies at the nearby movie theatre was less exciting than the $9.99 pornos.
And then I remembered something.
"Well, there's a pool hall not to far down the road..."
It sounded lame. So, so lame. But only because it was.
But that's where I, we, were headed on our not-even-friends-not-really-a-date-date.
I caught myself kind of hoping that he would show up.
At least, then, I would have something nice to look at as Dallas was undoubtedly going to be talking my ear off.
"Here. They give you a discount if you tell them that you're staying with us."
He smiled slightly, as if a discount was the last thing he would need, but nodded, as if he was thinking about it, nonetheless. "Ok, thanks, Ally."
The way he said my name, as if I was some delicious treat in his mouth, made me wish that I was literally in it.
Or at least some parts of me.
He grabbed the business card that I was holding out for him, our fingers touching once again, and I could have sworn that he lingered for just a second too long.
Or a lifetime too short, depending on how you were looking at it.
He nodded in goodbye before he turned around and walked away.
I pretended to be looking at something on the computer while unashamedly checking out his ass as he was walking towards the elevator.
It was a nice one.
If possible, he was almost as attractive from the back.
He had broad shoulders, but he still looked as if he would be surprisingly agile, as there was a bounce in his step, almost as if he was walking on sunshine.
He had long legs, probably muscular ones, at least if judging by the snugness of the jeans that very tightly stretching over his thick thighs.
And he had very large...shoes.
Damn.
All of him was nice. To look at. I was pretty sure that he was everything but nice, though.
He caught me staring as he turned around once situated inside the elevator, and he smirked as the doors closed shut in front of him.
"You do realize that that was a fake name, right?"
I almost jumped at the sound of the voice coming from underneath the counter, inadvertently snapping me out of my daydream involving undressing the god-slash-man that had just disappeared from my view.
I don't know why it startled me, I should be used to it by now.
Dez usually napped underneath the counter when we were working shifts together.
Sometimes, most of the time, I forgot he was even there.
"How do you know?" I don't know what surprised me more, the fact that he was actually awake, or the fact that he had apparently been paying attention to one of the guests.
Both were rather unusual.
I was shaking my head at him as he crawled out from underneath his hiding place, his uniform slightly wrinkled but that was not unusual, looking newly awakened with his red hair in a disorganized mess (and not in a good way.)
He was my best friend, since forever and for forever.
And since a couple of years back, my all but organized roommate.
I loved him, like the brother I didn't have, but he was a much better friend than he was employee.
"His tone of voice gave it away. It was too rehearsed, not natural enough."
He was spinning his hand around in some animated manner.
Dez talked with his hands a lot.
I shook my head.
Dez didn't know much about anything, and a little about everything, much like an unreliable encyclopedia that sometimes was correct and sometimes was just...not.
As it thought about it I realized that, for once, it kind of made sense, though.
"But why?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he's famous, or something."
I thought about it for a second before discarding the idea.
I was pretty sure that that wasn't it.
Famous people didn't come to our town.
Yet along stay at my, sorry, the hotel.
Maybe he just didn't like his real name.
The lobby was once again empty, Dez was back to sleeping with his eyes open, propped down on the nearby chair this time around, and the big wall clock was back to relentlessly mocking me.
Ten minutes had passed.
50 more minutes till freedom or perhaps the insane asylum, depending on how bad of a chatter-box Dallas was planning on being.
I thought about the semi-mysterious, blond sex-on-legs some more, and suddenly time was flying by.
25 minutes.
Ah, I really didn't t want to go out with Dallas.
With 10 minutes to go, I left the empty counter in Dez's unreliable hands and went to freshen up in the small, nearby employee bathroom.
I had decided against changing out of my uniform, as that could be considered making an effort and I didn't want to give Dallas the wrong impression.
He had been persistent in coming to pick me up straight from work, mostly because places didn't generally stay open late around here and I guessed that he wanted to prolong the joyous occasion for as long as possible.
I walked back out to the lobby with a few minutes to spare, then spending my last time in freedom trying to convince Dez to meet us at the pool hall.
Or maybe more so to discreetly ambush our non-date date.
Whatever.
I needed him to help me escape if necessary. When necessary.
He refused without even bothering to come up with any believable excuses.
"You're on your own. But please don't bring him back to our place. I don't want to hear the two of you go at it through the wall all night. It's kind of thin, you know." Dez sounded disgusted, and I knew it wasn't just from said activities.
He was, if possible, even less of a fan of Dallas than I was.
I shook my head. "Trust me, I'll be coming home tonight. Alone."
I heard a beep from outside.
Dallas was punctual.
Actually, like a minute early.
I wasn't surprised.
I hugged Dez goodbye before walking outside.
Dallas greeted me with a too intimate hug before I got into the car, and he insisted on holding the car door open, like the gentleman I was not looking for, lingering until I was sitting down before closing the door and for a second, I thought he might strap me in as well, not so much to keep me safe, but to make sure I couldn't escape.
I sighed.
His car was plain and clean, just like its driver.
Comfortable, but not very exciting.
It wasn't a far drive, and as we parked in the all but full, large pool hall parking lot, he made me wait in the car so that he could walk around to open the door for me.
I know I should appreciate the gesture, really, but I didn't.
I couldn't.
It felt overdone. Fake.
I was second guessing my decision to go out with him for the hundredandtenth time, as he over-dramatically held open the door to the funky looking pool hall, some very questionable music immediately and uninvitingly filling my ears, and I was already annoyed.
Or perhaps just more so.
But how hard could it possibly be to play decent music?
I looked around. There were more people than I had expected inside. That was not to say that it was packed, but the decent sized bar was surrounded by small groups in various states of intoxication, seemingly in direct relation to their noise level, and I realized that the music that was blasting too loudly was coming from a digital juke-box thingy hanging on the nearby wall.
And, of course, there was a large section of pool tables. Plenty of pool tables.
I was pretty sure I had been there before, a few years back, and that I had left that time making a promise to myself not to come back.
Dallas had assured me that this was "the place to be" and he was right, if what you were looking for was a place where you could and eventfully would die from second hand smoke.
As I made my way towards the u-shaped bar, suddenly in desperate need of a drink, and a strong one at that, a gorgeous girl in a tight dress bumped into me, and I immediately felt extremely underdressed.
As I scanned the room, I realized that it was clearly skirt season.
And coincidentally also hunting season, neither of which lasted long enough in the small, northern town that I (unfortunately) called home.
I was wearing a skirt, but it was the the knee-length, conservative one that was part of my work uniform.
Maybe I should have changed, after all.
By the was Dallas was currently eyeing my every move, I might as well have been wearing a garbage bag or a freaking potato sack and it wouldn't make a difference either way.
Dallas managed to find us two seats, by said bar.
He was good at a few things, fucking probably not being one of them.
Not that I would know.
I did have some standards, after all.
But he looked like the kind of guy who had the right equipment yet wouldn't know what to do with it.
We sat down and he ordered us some drinks while I scanned the people on the other side of the bar, one by one.
There were a few familiar faces, people that I had gone to school with at one point or another, but none that I wanted to interact with.
This wasn't my usual hang-out. At all.
A couple of minutes had passed, and I had already finished half of my very strong drink, when the spitting image of sex walked in. He seemed to be alone, and he was soon siting down on a seat across the bar, a seat that I hadn't noticed to be open before, with one of his elbows resting on the bar counter while he was scanning the area in a similar manner to that of my own just a few minutes prior.
He looked kind of lonely, stirring the drink that had almost magically appeared in front of him, aimlessly, as if he wasn't really sure of what to do next.
I was both desperately hoping and not hoping that he would see me, but quickly realized that it might not make a difference either way, as he probably wouldn't recognize me.
My heart was beating fast as I tried to look everywhere but at him, but it was fucking impossible.
I couldn't see what he was wearing on the bottom, but his t-shirt had been exchanged for a plaid shirt (or was it flannel? Oh, I didn't really give a fuck, although that was exactly what I wanted to do), his sleeves haphazardly rolled up, revealing a probably-worth-more-money-than-I-make-in-a-year watch along with perfectly tanned arms.
His hair was still a perfect mess and my desire to fist said mess in my hands was even stronger than earlier.
There were two too dressed up girls eyeing him, from a few feet away, whispering something to each other while throwing longing glances in his direction.
He didn't seem to notice, his eyes still wandering across the bar, almost as if he was looking for something. Or maybe someone.
And then out eyes met. And I was wet(ter).
He smiled in recognition while indiscreetly eyeing an unknowing Dallas, from a profile point of view as the dumbwit was turned towards me.
He looked as if he was deep in thought, and as if he was trying to evaluate what our situation was, a small smile soon playing on his lips.
Some other girl was now trying to get his attention, as well, and he ignored her, more purposefully this time.
I almost felt bad for her.
Almost.
A minute passed and then he rose his glass towards me, in what I could only interpret as a semi-flirtatious cheer, and I returned the gesture, raising my glass before downing the rest of its content in its entirety.
The sweet alcohol was tickling my throat, and I instantly felt dizzy, but it could also have been due to the fact that he was still staring at me from across the bar.
Dallas seemed oblivious, as he was still turned sideways, still facing me, still talking away, sharing another supposedly funny anecdote from his all but fun job.
I almost laughed out loud at the irony of someone being close to illiterate working in the library.
Or libary, as he insisted on calling it.
He was so annoying.
Too annoying.
I maintained the conversation half-heartedly, but he didn't seem to notice, probably because he was talking enough for the two of us.
I had just finished the second drink when Dallas leaned in, in a misguided attempt to kiss me, and I moved, almost instinctively so, as if out of survival mode, and his unappealing lips landed on my cheek. Even that felt weird, forced, the innocent kiss leaving a sloppy residue on my cheek that I wiped off with one if the bar napkins before I continued to talk while pretending as if nothing had happened.
Dallas seemed confused for a second, but that was nothing new.
I avoided looking at him as I was still eye-fucking Adonis from across the bar.
He had a small, almost amused smile on his face.
Maybe it was just the alcohol speaking, but it felt like there was an attraction there, an enormous one, so strong that I could almost feel it vibrate through me, and the fact that he could do that to me without even touching me intrigued me, and made me really want to know what he could do to me while actually doing so.
Was it morally wrong to cockblock one guy while simultaneously eye fucking another? Probably.
But if so, I, for once, had no need to be right.
Damn, it was hot in there.
I excused myself, interrupting Dallas in the middle of a sentence, before I stood up and walked over to the wall music machine that was still vomiting bad music, partially because I really needed to change the song, and partially and particularly because I needed to breath.
And it wasn't just the smoke that was making it hard to do so.
I looked through the music selection for a minute, before I felt rather than saw that someone came up behind me, only catching a quick glimpse of something blond before there was a low voice close to my ear.
Said someone was breathing on me, while perhaps also breathing me in.
Not that I minded.
"Looking for anything in particular?" His voice was honey, and I was buzzing, alright.
I shook me head, because I wasn't, as I was pretty sure his cock wasn't listed as an option.
"I can always give you some recommendations."
I was pretty sure he could give me other things as well. Like mind-blowing orgasms.
He was already giving me eyegasms. And eargasms.
I shook my head again as I had just found something I liked. "I think I've got it."
The first few tones rang out of the speakers as I turned around to face him, and a small smile spread on his face as I started to move along to the music.
I wasn't the greatest dancer, I knew I wasn't, but I liked to pretend that I was, especially after I had had a couple of way too strong drinks.
He looked amused.
"I love this song." I was semi-screaming the truth.
He laughed, loudly, almost teasingly so, while shaking his head.
"You don't?" That kind of surprised me. It was a popular one.
He just continued to laugh. "It's alright, I guess. A bit overplayed, that's all."
I was singing along to the lyrics, probably butchering them but I didn't really care, and he watched me for a minute before he nodded towards the pool tables. "Want to play?"
Oh, did I ever.
Although the game I had in mind wasn't pool.
It did involve a stick, some holes and a few balls, though.
I shrugged. "I'm not very good."
He smirked as he leaned in to speak in my ear. "I bet you are." He was definitely not talking about pool.
"Besides, I can teach you a few tricks."
Aha. I didn't doubt that.
I felt yet another small blush creep up on my cheek just as Dallas approached us, and at just about the same time, one of the two grumpy men that had been with him at the hotel approached us.
I hadn't even realized that he was there, almost as if he had been actively trying to blend into the crowd or something. That would explain the dark clothes that functioned as camouflage in the sparsely lit up place.
Grumpy just gave me a quick overlook, as if he was evaluating me, not so much based on my looks but almost as if he was trying to determine how much damage I could possibly cause.
Weird.
The answer was apparently "not much", though, as a small, uncomfortable looking smile soon formed on his somehow still stern face.
Dallas and the blond shook hands, and I realized that he hadn't even really introduced himself to me.
"Dallas."
He nodded. "This is my...friend. Vince." He pointed towards Grumpy. "And you can call me Mr. Sun." The same secretive smile as he had had back at the hotel was once again gracing his very handsome features.
Dallas looked as if he was thinking about something, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. It looked uncomfortable, as if his face wasn't used to thinking, or something.
"Do I know you?"
Sunshine immediately shook his head. "I doubt it. I'm not from around here. Now, let's play some pool." He sounded almost too eager.
Weird.
Dallas looked hesitant and fairly displeased that our date had been rudely interrupted.
Funny how my feelings were of the complete opposite nature.
We walked over to one of the open tables.
Somehow, Dallas and I got paired up on the same team.
Well, I guess it made sense.
We were kind of on a non-date date, after all.
It was beyond me how he had picked a pool hall as a place for said non-date, though, as he was absolutely horrendous at it. Almost as bad as me.
God was not bad. At all. But no surprise there.
Vince was decent as well, and surprisingly nimble considering his large size.
Despite my non-talent, I was enjoying myself, but perhaps more so due to two-thirds of the company than the game itself.
And what made it even better was the constant and unfailing eye contact between me and the man I was not on a non-date date with, eye contact that made the air thick, and I was pretty sure that if he was anywhere near as good at actual fucking as he was at eye fucking, he was a God.
We lost the first round, by a lot, and he came to stand next to me, close to me, while Dallas started the second one with a miserable attempt at a good shot.
"So, I guess it safe to say that you are pretty good at this?"
He nodded. "Yeah. But then again, there are very few things that I'm not good at."
It could have sounded conceded, but it didn't.
It kind of sounded like the truth.
We played a few more rounds, while half of us, namely Sun and myself, consumed a few more drinks. Dallas had stopped drinking, as he was driving. Something told me he wouldn't mind me getting drunker, though, as he was the one that kept the drinks coming.
I was pretty sure he was hoping that the alcohol would somehow magically make me want him.
There wasn't enough alcohol in the universe for that to happen, though.
And then we lost yet another round.
"So, what do I win?" The tall devil was throwing a clearly seductive smile in my direction, and I almost raised my hand while screaming "ME" at the top of my lungs.
But I didn't. Instead, I took yet another sip of the drink that was moving slightly in my shaking hand, as his eyes were still on me, caressing me, running over my curves.
Dallas seemed oblivious to the tension between me and the pool master, although I had no clue of how he could not notice the manner in which the competition (in more ways than one) was eyeing my ass every time I attempted to make a shot.
Vince, too, was pretending to be clueless to pretty much everything, although I had a gut feeling that he was anything but.
It was my turn, and I missed, again, which was more annoying than surprising.
I had lost count of how many times I had already done so. But it wasn't really my fault, it really wasn't, because although I wasn't exactly sure whether pool was considered a sport or not, but my inathleticism was probably to blame.
"Here, let me show you." Blondie sounded eager.
I didn't even have the chance to respond before he was positioned behind me, closely, my thighs pressing into to pool table as his body was pressing into mine, from behind, my ass perfectly aligned with his crotch as he was towering over me, and coincidentally, poking me with a different type of tower that seemed to be increasing in height with each passing second.
He positioned the pool stick in between my fingers, sliding it through them a few times as he was aiming, then shooting and making contact with the white ball, hitting the nearby target spot on, and the pool ball rapidly made its way it into the side pocket.
"See? It's not that hard."
Oh, but he was wrong. It was very, very hard.
I excused myself for the bathroom, not so much because I needed to use it but because I needed to once again breath.
And cool down.
I was about to push the door to the ladies room open, when I felt a firm, iron-grip on my shoulder, someone's large hand almost covering half of my back, and I didn't really have time to react before said hand had pulled me out of the venue and into the outside and backside alleyway through an almost hidden, small side door.
It was darkish. It didn't smell, thankfully, but the space was rather narrow, and it looked fairly abandoned.
"What are we doing out here?" My voice sounded kind if funny again. It was hard to pretend that I wasn't equal parts nervous and excited about being alone with him. In very close proximity, nonetheless.
"I needed to be alone with you for a minute."
"Just a minute?" I was suddenly feeling very flirtatious.
A man like that only came around once in a decade, maybe a century, and I wasn't going to let him pass me by.
He shrugged. "I prefer to judge things by quality rather than length."
I was pretty positive that he could deliver in both areas.
We were standing a few feet apart, me leaning up against the brick wall of the all but fancy building, trying to decide whether I should look at him or not but settling on the former as I couldn't tear my eyes away.
He cleared his throat after another minute of intense eye-loving. "So, Ally, you're here on a date?"
I shook my head. Probably a bit too rapidly. "He's just a friend. Kind of. An acquaintance, really."
"Aha." He sounded skeptical.
"He is."
"Does he know that?"
"Yes." I was nodding as to emphasize my point.
"Funny, I don't usually try to kiss my friends." He was clearly teasing me now.
Oh, so he had seen that.
"I think he might have been confused for a second, that's all."
"I think maybe you're the confused one, because it's pretty obvious that he wants to fuck you. And for more than a second."
Him cursing continued to have an interesting, watering effect on my body.
"How do you know?"
"Because he's a guy."
"So are you..."
"Right. My point exactly."
He was getting closer now, his arms soon caging me in on each side of my shoulders,
"Trusts me when I say that I, too, want to fuck you. All night long."
We just stood there for a minute, simply breathing each other, my lungs dancing around in celebration that the air was smoke free, even though the person whose air I was currently sharing was smoking hot.
And then he kissed me, in the same way that he did everything else, not hesitantly but confidently. His tongue was rough against mine, nothing soft and all masculine, and he tasted like whiskey and man and sexual satisfaction and I had been correct earlier, because his mouth was heaven.
"I wanted to fuck you the second I first saw you."
Same. Same Same Same.
I indulged in his mouth for a few minutes before reluctantly moving away.
"Where even are we?" I was pretending to look around while breathing hard.
"In an alley. Right where I want to be. Or perhaps fantasize of being."
His lips found mine again, continuing the kiss, almost frantically so, as if he was feasting on something that he hadn't had access to in a while and now couldn't have enough of.
How long did we make out for? I really had no clue.
All I knew was that suddenly, time was moving too fast.
And perhaps, so were we.
Not that I minded.
I broke away, again and still unwillingly so, gasping for air, as I had just realized something.
"I don't even know your first name."
"Does it matter?" He almost sounded challenging.
"No". It didn't.
He smiled. "Good."
My back was now not just pressed up against the brick wall that was as hard as he was, but pressed into it. I was probably going to have tile marks temporarily tattooed on my back before we were finished.
I really hoped we were nowhere close to being finished, though.
The blouse of my receptionists uniform left a lot to the imagination, as it was buttoned to the top, revealing minimal amount of skin and not at all helping my breathing difficulties.
As if he was thinking the same thing, he quickly unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons, soon leaning down and licking my chest, his hand speedingly moving inside of my now semi-revealed bra, soon teasingly playing with my quickly hardening nipples, and my nails instinctively dug into his scalp as my fingers were now intertwined in his hair.
That elicited small groans that I could have sworn were direct quotes from the pornographic movies that had been playing in my head all night.
My nails moved to his neck, and as I ran them against his skin, digging into him ever so slightly, he cursed, loudly, before his hand found its way in underneath my skirt.
He was running his fingers over the sensitive skin of the inside of my thighs, making me almost physically ache for him to touch me elsewhere.
He clearly had similar things in mind, as he growled, loudly. "Fuck, Ally, I want to fuck you."
Yes. Yes. YES YES YES. "Then why don't you?"
He smiled into the now resumed kiss.
"We would have to be quick. Wouldn't want to keep your date waiting."
I just nodded, as I couldn't really no longer recall who he was even referring to, my mind completely wrapped up in him.
And then his hand was on me, in between my legs, his fingers running over me, rubbing me, and I could feel my wetness seeping through the thin material of my underwear as he hadn't even bothered to remove them.
I reached for his pants, desperately wanting to touch him, eager to solve the mystery in his pants, and eager to explore every single inch of said mystery.
His jeans were surprisingly easy to unbutton, the material of his tight boxers soon greeting my soft hand as I cupped him in it, our body parts clearly not matched up by size, yet fitting together almost perfectly.
I palmed him for a minute before I pulled down his underwear, only slightly so, then immediately grabbing him, letting my fingers run over his length a few times.
I wasn't disappointed. The mystery was a big one.
He was still rubbing me, small circles of perfection, and I was on the verge of cumming undone when he finally pulled down my not entirely dry underwear, letting them fall to the ground, and I obligingly stepped out of them.
"You won't be needing those for the rest of the night, anyways."
And then one of his long fingers entered me, slowly, pumping me, exploring me, making me even wetter with each move while his hot breath was in my ear, the pace of his breathing increasing at the same speed as his deep plunging finger, as he continued to finger fuck me at the same rhythm that I was now stroking him.
I could tell that he was getting close, his groans growing louder and more frequent, mixing with my own ever-increasing moans.
"I want to taste you, but in don't think we have the time for that, so I'm just going to fuck you hard and fast until you cum, all over my cock."
I think my answer was something similar to wchwjcbscscdcd.
"You know, I kind of wanted to fuck you on that bar..." His fingers were still hitting me deep.
Aha.
"And on that pool table..." Even deeper.
Aha.
"And against the counter back at the hotel..." I was about to cum.
"I guess this will have to do for now, though."
He pulled out his finger before lifting me up, effortlessly, my skirt now a wrinkled mess around my waist, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his, my arms around his neck as he positioned his rock hard dick between my semi-spread legs.
And then he stalled for a second.
"It's Austin, by the way."
And then he was in me, greeting me with his hard cock rather than his hand, pushing himself all the way into me in one harsh blow and my teeth dug into his neck to prevent myself from screaming out loud.
"Fuck, you're so tight."
My pussy responded by getting even wetter and he groaned. "I don't know how it's possible, but your pussy is even better than I expected. So fucking wet."
His cock continued to move, unfailingly so, as his mouth was still latched onto my neck, his speed increasing ever so slightly with each thrust and it wasn't romantic, not at all, nowhere near sweet yet so freaking perfect.
It was fucking, just sex, so amazingly good and carefree and raw and precisely and exactly what I needed.
It was as if knowing that he was only there for the night made it even better, and more urgent, almost desperate, as this was literally once in a lifetime, and it also managed to somehow turn me on even further.
My back was moving up against the harsh surface with each thrust, almost painfully so, but the small pain was amazingly offset by the fucking pleasure that his cock was creating inside of me, slowly pushing me closer to cumming.
I screamed into his neck, my ass moving in his hand as he continued to pound me a few more times, roughly, until I came, hard, hugging his dick in an even tighter embrace, immense pleasure surging through me while he was still moving in and out of me in disorganized shoves.
And then he finally shared his cum with me, filling me, his head was slightly tilted back in orgasmic bliss as he was almost screaming out his high.
He stayed inside of me for a minute, both of us breathing heavily in unison, before he pulled out and sat me down on the ground.
"Wow." He was still out of breath.
That pretty much summed it up, though.
I pulled down my skirt, trying to quickly and unsuccessfully unwrinkle it before glancing at his expensive watch.
I realized that we probably hadn't been gone for that long, and not nearly long enough, yet I was more fulfilled than ever before.
Fuck.
Quality over length, indeed.
He pulled up his boxers and zipped up his pants before leaning in to my ear, letting his tongue trail along my now sweaty neck before whispering. "Lose the moron. You know where my hotel room is."
And with that, he left me, standing there, still breathing hard, underwear less, still cumming a bit, and it took me a minute before I was able to move, and then I followed suit and walked back into the building through the still cracked open side door.
Dallas was back to sitting down by the bar.
"Are you ok?"
I nodded, mumbling something about a long line, as I was still at loss for words, trying to discreetly look around for him, only to realize that he had already left, and the place felt empty despite the crowd-size remaining virtually the same.
How long did I need to wait before skipping out on Dallas?
His name kept ringing in my head.
Austin. Austin. Austin. Austin. Austin.
I was missing something. And not just the sensation of him cumming deep inside of me.
"I'm pretty sure that guy is a musician." Dallas sounded confident.
Something clicked.
"What?"
"That guy. The one that beat us at pool. I can't remember his name, but he looks so familiar. I think he's a singer or something."
I nodded. Maybe Dallas wasn't so dumb after all.
Wait, no, he was.
But for this once, he was correct.
Austin Sun. That just wasn't right.
I walked over to the jukebox thingy again, for some reason feeling like it was calling for me, as if there were obvious clues there, clues that were barely concealed right in front of me, clues that I somehow managed to consistently overlook.
I scrolled through the music selection until I found the song I had picked just a few hours prior.
And there it was.
Austin.
Not Sun, but Moon.
Austin Moon.
Fuck.
The song I had played earlier was his song.
There was even a small picture of him on the freaking album cover.
How was it even possible that I hadn't recognized him?
Sure, I was clearly a bit older than the majority of his fanbase, as I was not an early-teenaged girl, but still.
I had just hooked up with Austin Moon.
Austin Moon, best-selling artist and overall sex symbol.
Austin Moon, musical sensation who had his face plastered across every teen magazine, month after month.
Austin Moon, the guy who had just fucked me senseless in a narrow alleyway outside of a sketchy pool hall.
And the worst part of it all was probably that I couldn't find it in me to feel bad about it.
I walked back to the bar and let Dallas know that I wanted to leave, and he nodded, although his face was clearly colored in disappointment as he called the bartender over for the check.
He insisted on driving me home, and within a couple of minutes, we had exited the venue and were walking rapidly towards his car.
I opened my own car door before he got the chance to do so.
What a night.
Was it morally wrong to come to a place with one guy and leave with the cum of another?
Probably. But if so, I had never wanted to be less right.
"My place or yours?" He sounded hopeful.
I almost laughed. In his face.
"Can you please drop me off at the hotel? There's something I need to do."
I needed explanations. And some more of that dick.
I had lied to Dez. I was going to come tonight, alright, but not at home and definitely not alone.
Dallas nodded and pouted all in one as he started the car, as if he was genuinely surprised that the night was already ending.
In reality, he should be grateful that it had lasted this long.
It wasn't to his credit.
And little did he know that it was going to be a long night.
For me.
...
Thanks to you RJ for helping me out with Austin's undercover name and Ana and Katherine for coming up with the name of Austin's bodyguard.
