M content ahead.
Isadora couldn't seem to stop giggling. Tendrils of dark hair were falling into her face, but it was hard to tell if they belonged to her or her partner this evening. Though she could barely make out what he was saying, she did know that he was saying it all beautifully. His voice was wonderful, beautiful, it sounded like how pillows felt.
"Stop laughing, pet, you're making me—" Loki tried to placate her giggling, but only halfheartedly, because he couldn't help but let out a chuckle of his own. That only made her laugh harder. She felt a slight pressure on her back, she figured she was being led somewhere—maybe. Isadora didn't really know where they were, and she didn't care, she was having the time of her life. She had to tell Loki something important, anyway.
"I have to play you that song when we get home," she said with sudden focus. Her laughter had dissipated almost instantly when she remembered what they were talking about in the car earlier. "It's so awesome, can I play it? Please? I want to dance more, too, and we can totally dance to this song," she added hastily, wiggling her ass to show just how much she needed to dance. The pressure tightened on her back, traveling downward a little. She squealed lightly, relishing the fact that Loki's hand was getting closer and closer to her ass, and that she was pushed up right against his side while they were walking. Where they were walking, Isadora couldn't tell. The only conclusion she could come to was that she didn't want to stop being close to him. Looking up at him, she suddenly noticed that he towered above her. She noticed this earlier, but never really savored how Loki could just envelop her in his silhouette. "You're so tall," she sighed dreamily. He looked down at her and gave her a crooked smile that made her start giggling like a teenager all over again. "You know what they say about tall men, Loki…" she said, trailing off and raising an eyebrow suggestively.
"I can't say that I do, my dear," Loki feigned confusion, but the twinkle in his eyes was still there. The corners of his mouth were twitching, waiting to see how Isadora would react. Poor girl had had quite a lot to drink, and he had to do a lot of convincing to get her to stop gulping down fruity cocktails and head back to her apartment. She didn't even seem to be aware of the fact that they were walking down the hallway of her apartment's floor. Whenever she wasn't laughing herself silly, she was staring with heavy-lidded eyes up at Loki. He tried to give some kind of a signal with his hand down her back, but it seemed like she just laughed it off. Gods, he'd wanted her since he'd first saw her, but not quite like this. He silently cursed himself for letting her drink so much, for he genuinely could not tell if she really wanted him, or if the alcohol had just made her a bit daft with lust. He hoped that by playing dumb he could maybe extricate a clearer form of intent from Isadora….
"You don't?" Isadora gasped, a hand flying to her open mouth. That didn't stop from letting small bouts of laughter escape. "Really? Well, it means you're supposed to have a big—"
"Ah, perhaps we should continue this thrilling conversation inside your apartment?" Loki offered up rather conveniently. Isadora unwrapped herself from Loki's grasp and looked around. They had been in front of her apartment door for quite some time now, she realized. As a kind of reflex, Isadora reached for her purse slung around her shoulder and began digging for her keys. She tried to peek at him from the corner of her eye, but failed spectacularly. Loki made her smile and giggle all over again. Yes, it was his entire fault she was acting this stupid, she never does things like this, but oh, how she loved being next to him. Maybe it was the way he smelled, the way he breathed, his chest growing a bit larger the longer they kept starting at each other…
Isadora tried to respond as soberly as possible, but failed spectacularly. "Oh, good, I have to sh-show you that song I was telling you 'bout." Shit, was she really that drunk? Oh well. Did she lose her fucking keys again…?
"Allow me," Loki said politely, giving Isadora a gentlemanly smile, but he was betrayed by the wicked glitter in his eyes. He reached for her purse, and lifted the keys out in about two seconds. Raising an eyebrow at first, he eyed Isadora with suspicion, but then he allowed for some middle ground. "I'm sure you helped, ah—loosen them up?"
"Ohmigod, yeah, my purse is a fucking mess," she said, shrugging it off. That was cool, right? He's totally into me. Fuck. Is this really going to happen?
Her mind was starting to race, among other things inside her: first her heart rate, and consequently, her lower stomach. At first Isadora thought she was going to be sick, but then she realized: I'm horny. For the first time in awhile, too, she thought to herself. As all these things were going through her mind like a flipbook, Loki had taken the liberty to opening the front door on his own. She looked up at him, smiled sheepishly, and then sauntered into her apartment. Suddenly she remembered.
"I'll be right back!" She cried, racing to the far corner of the living room. Isadora didn't have to run very far, Loki noticed, taking in their rather small surroundings. If her apartment were any smaller, she certainly wouldn't have any room for the striped blue-and-coral futon. Nonetheless, it looked rather nice, Loki thought forgivingly. She had some kitschy art pieces hanging on the wall, showing a somewhat alternative taste in art, complete with knickknacks from different cities all over the coffee table, bookshelves, and mantelpiece. It wasn't so much that she decorated, it was more like she just kept out her collection of souvenirs to give her visitors something to look at. She even had a few candles sitting on the island, but they were already almost burned to stubs. The apartment certainly looked lived-in, it was cozy, it was… her. It was all Isadora, Loki thought with appreciation.
"What?" she almost shouted at Loki. He turned around in his spot, still stationed in the foyer, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "What, is it that bad? I'm sorry, I didn't expect for you to—" Isadora stopped herself. Loki was just laughing now. "What?!" she demanded to know just what the hell he found so funny about her apartment.
"It's very you," he said simply, waving a hand about the room. "I mean that."
Isadora just stared at him defensively, narrowing her eyes, waiting for some kind of quip or sarcastic remark that usually follows from his lips. But… nothing. Loki just smiled at her, and continued to look around the apartment, exploring her cramped bookshelves and reading the books' spines. After surveying him for another long seconds, she whipped her head back toward her silver stereo. It was so small, was it even really a stereo? Whatever, she thought, as she started to scroll through her mp3 player as fast as she could, and consequently, very inaccurately, as Isadora kept skipping back and forth over the song she was aiming for. After cursing to herself a few times, the beat of the song suddenly started to pump through the speakers. It was impressive at how loud the song was, considering the speakers were only about the size of a tennis shoe. Even the bass was pumping, and she could feel it through her veins, pumping almost as fast as her heartbeat.
Loki turned, averting his attention toward her. She didn't even notice his stare. She belonged to the melody as this moment, and she was even singing along to it—quite well, too, Loki thought to himself, considering she was in such an incapacitated state. With closed eyes, and arms rising and falling to the song, she was in a trance. He had never been so hypnotized by another person's body, he had realized. Yes, it was beautiful and it filled him with passion, but it was more than that—this moment, this was something she would do when no one else was around. It was so intimate, so personal, and Loki felt almost honored to be in the presence of a private moment that would have took place without him otherwise. But then, the moment broke, it was shattered as soon as Isadora opened her eyes. She laughed for a little, and then kept singing, starting to remove her jacket along to the beat of the stereo. He smiled, savoring the little dance she made of removing her rather heavy overcoat. Now, this wasn't just any personal, private moment—he slowly realized this as she made her way toward him. This was for him. For Loki.
She began to take off her shoes, tights, and dress, left with only a red bra and hot pink, silky underwear. Taking her hair down from its messily pinned updo, she gave another one of her flirting smiles. "What do you think?" It was all she could say without coming off as too crass. She wanted to be coy, to let him make the next move. But her body was betraying her thoughts as she ran a hand down the lapel of his coat.
Loki took her hand, returning it back to her slowly. "You look—you look stunning," he began. "But Isadora, are you—are you sure you want to do something like this?" He asked, tipping her chin up so their eyes met, undisturbed. "You're quite drunk right now, and I don't want you waking up to something you regret."
Isadora purred under his grasp. "Loki, you know what turns me on more than anything?" she asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
"What?" he asked blankly. His blood was boiling. He ached for her in every way possible, more than he ever had. Loki wanted to take her at this very second, and he was doing everything in his power to resist his body, which had begun to tighten up around his trousers. It had been so long since—since—
She removed Loki's hand from her chin, carefully and slowly snaking it around her hip as she reached up on her tiptoes to bring her moist lips to his ear. "Chivalry."
Furiously, clothes were torn off, and then Isadora became weightless, as Loki carried her down the hallway to her bedroom. Loki was already down to his underwear, a dark boxer-brief pair with a grey waistband. As he placed her on the bed, he started toward her, a hunger in his eyes, when—
"Turn on the light," she said quietly. He obeyed, and when the light filled the room, she could see his pale, almost alabaster skin gleaming from a thin layer of sweat. She drank in the sight of him, looking from his bright, glittering green eyes, to his wet pink lips, down to his lean, long torso. She couldn't help but stop and gaze at his underwear, biting her lips with anticipation. "They were right," she said breathlessly.
"What, that tall men—?" Loki was too breathless himself to bother finishing the statement. Isadora just nodded, giving a breathy laugh and cocking her head to one side as she kept staring. "Well then. Who shall do the honors?" Loki allowed, breaking the tension a little by giving a mockingly grand gesture at his cock with his hands.
Before he could even finish the question, Isadora pounced, and in a flash, they reversed positions: Loki was lying face-up on the bed, and Isadora was hovering over him, tugging at his boxer-briefs. It was a bit of work, considering his legs; they went on for miles, nothing but sinewy muscle and bones. But as Isadora cast aside the now useless piece of fabric, she looked at him hungrily. "Oh my," she said quietly. They locked eyes after she surveyed him, and they both smiled.
"You're beautiful, Isadora," Loki murmured softly. "Especially when you've got me in something of a wristlock," he added slyly. She noticed that, rather unconsciously, Isadora had pinned his armed down.
"I want you to take me," Isadora said, getting down to brass tacks, standing up a little bit straighter as she began to wiggle out of her bra and underwear. No, wait, she thought, backtracking as best as she could. "But first, I want you to eat me out."
Loki was savoring every word, every command she gave him. He had never had a lover like this—someone who was just as dominant as him. No, he thought, Isadora had ordered him around more than Loki had ever held power over anyone in the bedroom. It was like a toxin, a wonderful, sweet, toxin than clouded his brain. But suddenly, he snapped out of it, giving her a look of confusion.
"Wait, what? Eat… eat you…?"
"Oral pleasure?" Isadora allowed, but he still didn't follow, shaking his head. "Here."
Just as quickly as she had flung him down on the bed, he was back upright, this time on his knees. Isadora lay back down, but then brought Loki down too, pushing his head down toward her vagina. Suddenly it clicked. Idiot, Loki thought to himself. She wanted him to pleasure her with… with his mouth. He'd read about this sort of thing, and he'd heard that it was a common practice among women lovers in Asgard, but never had he actually done it himself. He felt like a complete dolt, and looked up at Isadora to see if she could maybe lend any kind of advice for him.
"Just write the alphabet with your tongue, and pay attention to the clitoris—just not too much," was all Isadora said before she plopped her head down on the pillow and offered up her second set of lips to Loki.
The first few moments were awkward and silent, save for the occasional slurping and wet sounds Loki's lips made against hers. For a moment, he thought that he was going about it completely wrong, but then after about a minute, Isadora began moaning. Loki felt quite proud of himself as he worked his way up to a steady stream of tongue moments, as deftly as he possibly could for a novice performer.
Isadora was in ecstasy, she was throbbing, wanting Loki to keep going, but her brain luckily had not given in. "Stop," she said loudly, and Loki immediately extricated himself from her. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Isadora stopped him. She brought his head up to hers, and they began kissing passionately. His lips—oh, his lips tasted wonderful. They made her a new kind of drunk, drunk with lust and hunger and wanting. Their lips and their bodies synced up perfectly, and even though she was a small, delicate thing compared to Loki's long, sinuous body, he was able to position himself so his hips met with hers exactly.
"What do you want, Isadora?" Loki asked her in between furious, urgent kisses. "Tell me. Tell me what you want."
"I want you, Loki," Isadora begged as Loki kissed her jaw, her neck, massaging her soft, supple breasts. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me, and I want you to fuck me hard."
Right at that moment, Loki plunged into her, and she cried out, not in pain, but in surprise. Her cry then turned into a moan, a long, aching moan than undulated with every thrust Loki gave her. At one point Loki leaned over while he was pumping, and gave a quiet little hiss in her hear. That nearly drove her to the edge, but then he came to a halting stop.
"No," she whined like a young child who had their favorite toy taken away from her. "Don't. Why did you stop. Keep going," she gasped quietly.
Loki came back to a steady, pulsating rhythm, not as satisfying as before, but still sweet, Isadora thought as she savored every thrust. "Faster," she gasped.
He leaned down again. "How badly do you want me to fuck you, my dear?"
"So badly," she said, this time, even more child-like. She pouted, grasping his arms that were planted on either side of her. "Please, Loki," she begged once more.
"Your wish is my command." In a matter of seconds, his slow, savory rhythm transformed to a quick, rapid, staccato, his soft grunts and the sounds of flesh on flesh were what drove Isadora. She begged him not to stop, but eventually the begging turned into screaming, and she came, feeling pure lust, pure passion, and pure ecstasy fill her whole. Her orgasm lasted for longer than she had ever experienced, and she didn't tell Loki to stop until she began to ache from all the pleasure. Finally, when she became quiet, he dismounted, lying beside her face-up.
"Did you—?" Isadora asked breathlessly. But Loki waved her off, as if to say, "Just shut up, we're both done for the night."
Isadora snuggled up to him, she felt his warm arms wrap around her, and then everything went black.