Hi everyone!
I managed to finish this chapter a little earlier and so here I am :) I worked a little more on this one because I wanted to finish it sooner and post it as a thank you for being so patient and so flattering with all your lovely comments. I am so very happy to know that you are enjoying this little story, I don't plan to make this long, just a couple more chapters probably, but for now, I'll leave you to this.
Oh, one last thing... Should I keep warning you guys about the smutty parts? :P I mean, I think you kinda know my style by now and are aware of how much I love playing with these two in that way, but I'll say it anyway, so... Here's some Vauseman smut :D
Enjoy
You are perfectly aware of that feeling, of the mingled sense of nervousness and eagerness swirling inside you, of that tightness of anticipation knotting your stomach, of the excitedly sinking realization of what is happening that is having your heart pounding furiously in your chest and pumping adrenaline - almost painfully - in your veins.
But for how intense and intoxicating, there is a more persistent, burning sensation that is making you feel weak at the knees, making your hands shake and twitch and tingle with want; it is the one of heavy arousal and desperate need that is clenching your core and pooling between your legs, making you ache in the most exquisite ways as you and Alex stumble, with your lips locked in a never-ending, deep, famished kiss, past her front door, down the hallway and towards what you imagine is her bedroom, knocking more than one thing down on your way there, but Alex doesn't seem to care about anything else besides kissing you with a demanding mouth and a voracious tongue, and you don't care about anything else besides being kissed with such unbendable dominance. Except maybe for that hand peaking under the hem of your dress, caressing your inner thigh with tingling fingertips that are driving you mad.
You are already fumbling with her own clothes, slipping her out of that fabulous leather jacket that looks so delicious on her, but that you think would look much better as a decoration for the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes.
There is readiness and want and such a pulsing fervor behind your movements that it's hard to believe it's all coming from you, but it feels real, easy, and right in the most absolute way, so you really don't understand why on earth, in the moment you reach for the front of her shirt and start unbuttoning it - almost tearing the damn thing open in frustration when the third button doesn't budge - you suddenly pull back from that toe-curling kiss and - in an unexpected broken second of hesitation - you blurt out a breathless, warning, "I'veneverbeenwithawomanbefore."
Your eyes widen as soon as those words rush out from your mouth, and you think that if you could, you would slap yourself in the face. Not only for rambling such thing during a dizzyingly lust fueled moment like this, but because you have never, ever stammered in that way, with anyone, in any circumstance, and never before your voice has sounded so nervous, so insecure even, as if scared that that information might kill the mood and, most of all, Alex's desire for you.
...How stupid and naive of you to even think such thing for that miserable second.
Because Alex starts chuckling, utterly amused by that stuttered warning and the sight of your flushed face.
But despite your stunned embarrassment, you are actually not even a bit surprised by such reaction.
Because of course she would have reacted like this.
You barely know her, but you are starting to become familiar with that confident, teasing character of hers. And deep down you knew you couldn't have expected something other than the "then let me show you what you have been missing out" dark, seductive, almost feral grin that she flashes you in response before leaning in and claiming your mouth once again, kissing you senseless as her hands slid under your dress for the rest of the way, gripping your thighs and teasing the waistband of your - soaked - lace panties.
And you can't take it anymore, you reach back for the zip of your dress, feeling Alex's smirk against your lips at the impatient gesture before helping you step out of it, leaving you just with your underwear and the attractive flush that starts spreading down your neck and chest when you realize that Alex is still mostly dressed, and you are suddenly feeling very exposed.
Your fingers twitch with desire of taking off her shirt and reveal the rest of the generous cleavage you have a glimpse of, but that striking sense of realization of before is catching up with you in front of this vision, rendering you unable to move, although it still has you burning with want, and Alex seems to read that very well as she takes in the obvious request written in your darkening eyes, in your lip biting, and starts unbuttoning the last buttons left without tearing her gaze away from you, probably enjoying the further dilatation of your pupils and the sight of your chest heaving with shallow breaths as she reveals to you more of her ivory skin.
Your temporary inability to move is gone in the moment she slides the shirt off her, replaced by the itching need to know how that smooth looking, creamy skin feels under your hands.
She is so beautiful, so warm, a blanket of soft skin spread over an unexpected solid layer of muscles that ripple in time with her perfectly controlled breathing.
Watching and feeling that elegant play on her taut stomach is enough to make you groan, but the sight that has most of your attention and is making your mouth water, are her breasts.
Unable to resist for a second longer, you immediately reach for the hooks on her back, probably a little too eagerly, because Alex laughs softly at your enthusiasm and stops your frantic movements with such a gentle touch that you wonder how she manages to keep herself so composed while you are struggling so hard only to remember to keep breathing.
"Easy there kid, we are in no rush." She reassures you, and even if you almost whimper at the idea of not releasing those full, generous breasts under your appreciating gaze, your body hums at Alex's implication that she has every intention to take her time with you. And she confirms it when she takes a step closer to you, trademark smirk firmly in place and a promise burning through that darkening green gaze when her hand comes up to cup and squeezes gently your breast, whispering a promising, "I wanna give you a good first impression."
You shiver under her touch, much to her delight, when her thumb flicks across your hardening nipple and you can't really suppress that moan that has formed in your chest from coming out like a shuddering gasp when she bends and seals her lips around it, licking, sucking. Giving you a rather... exhaustive... demonstration of what she intends to do to you later. Lower.
She eases you both down onto the bed when she feels you leaning more heavily against her, giving up on your shaky knees and pleasant dizziness as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in a silent gasp when she starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your neck switching between teasing bites along the tender flesh of your throat and short hot licks right behind your ear that are more than enough to force you to hold onto whatever part of her you can reach as your hips buck of their own will against her thigh.
With her words still echoing in your mind and her hands and lips mapping the curves and valleys of your body for the first time, you allow yourself to relax. You allow yourself to enjoy the moment, the touches, the kisses, the perfectly escalating rhythm of warming, burning, scorching desire as the air becomes heavier with your ragged breaths and sticky with the distinctive musky scent of your own arousal.
It feels like taking in the very first sip of air and drowning into the overwhelming sensations at the same time, and Alex must notice it since she pulls back from where she has been leaving a trail of kisses and bites along your neck to gently, softly remind you to breathe.
And so you do.
Willing your lungs to expand with some much needed air as you allow the rest of your body to feel and be cherished like no one has ever cared to do before, barely managing to not come there and then at the first accidental brush of Alex's long fingers across your throbbing clit, realizing, from that first touch that has your breathing all over the place, that you'll have to brace yourself good for this incredibly promising ride.
And you are proven right. Because her meaning of "a good impression" turns out to be the understatement of the whole damn human history.
You don't know how much it passes, time seems such a meaningless concept all of a sudden, you lose track of it just like you lose count of how many times you come, of how many times you are this close to slip out of consciousness by the devastating, almost brutal force of your climaxes, of how many times Alex's name scratches your throat and slips past your lips in a beg, in a plea, in a scream, in a request for more, in an encouragement to keep going and don't stop... but most of all, in absolute, heart stopping, breathtaking, soul-wrecking, spine arching blissfulness.
For that undefined amount of time you know nothing else than coming apart under her, on top of her, with the warmth of Alex's mouth surrounding you, with the fullness of Alex's impossibly skilled fingers stretching you and fucking you, softly and slow at first, getting you accustomed to the feeling, before turning fast and deep and exquisitely eye-rolling-in-the-back-of-the-head hard. Almost rough. But always, always considerate.
Her intimate touches have you immediately addicted, from the first slippery swirl of her tongue on your clit, to the last deliciously harsh thrust and perfect curling motion of her fingers deep inside you.
You ache so deliciously at the end, that you know you are going to sport that soreness for a few days; the perfect reminder of all the things that she has made you feel. Things that you have never experienced before. Things that yes, you have encountered and felt...
Only in your dreams.
Literally.
And the only thing that you desire more than keep finding out in how many ways and how many times in a row she can make you come, is explore her own body; a glorious inch at the time, and discover what kind of attention have her squirm with need and moan deep in her chest with delight.
You just want to make her feel as wonderful as she did you. The hell with the half-assed, nonsense insecurities of the whole first time thing.
You just want Alex.
"You sure?" She asks when you press her back into the mattress with a gaze hot enough to burn and a touch full of purpose, searching your face for any sign of doubt, but there is one of those smirks tugging at the corner of her mouth under that layer of considerate concern. It's thin but undoubtedly sincere, and you know that if you would tell her no she wouldn't question it.
But your answer could only have been one, and it comes through a kiss, a hard one, as your hand traces the curves down that magnificent body; a living sculpture of all that is beauty and woman that you know must be source of envy from anyone who has been so lucky to see it so closely, in all its naked glory.
You thought you might have needed some advice, but focusing on the way she responds to your touches, to the pressure you apply, to the slow pace you set - and then increase in sync with the clear demand for more of her searching hips - is really all you need; the only lead you need to follow. And you almost can't believe how authentic and natural it feels. Taking immeasurable pride when she comes - almost coming yourself all over again at the incredible feeling of her inner walls fluttering and clenching so tightly, so possessively around you at the apex of her pleasure. You make sure to draw every single shudder out of her, make sure that she rides it fully until she comes down from her high and you are left in front of the glorious sight of her sated body and at the feeling that swells inside of you. The one that fills that spot you have refused, hesitated, to slid completely into the place you are equally thrilled and afraid to discover it could truly belong there.
But now... Now you cannot at least consider this... unique experience as an ultimate sign.
And if the mind-blowing sex that you just had and have experienced only in another realm before isn't enough to feed your suspicious and make your heart beat frantically in that combination of trepidation and hope...
The beautiful tattoo on her shoulder makes it skip a painful beat every time your eyes stay open enough to catch a glimpse of it.
You find yourself tracing the outline of the amazingly realistic drawing in silent awe, wrapped in the quiet, lazy afterglow that follows the culmination of your passion as you recover. Memorizing its delicate lines over the smooth, refined canvas that is Alex's perfect alabaster skin, feeling the emotion that surfaces - from your dream-memories of seeing dozens of dozens of them in that specific scenery - getting stuck at your throat, forcing you to swallow hard in order not to choke on its persistent presence.
You must have been tracing it thoughtfully for a while because Alex decides to break the comfortable, cozy silence when you restart caressing it all over again.
"Do you like it?"
You hum softly and nod, but curiosity has the best of you eventually. "Why a rose?"
Even though your gaze doesn't leave the tattoo, you can practically hear the smirk in her voice when Alex answers you with a question of her own.
"What's more beautiful than a woman and a rose?"
"Roses have thorns." You point out with an arched eyebrow looking up at her just in time to see her throwing her head back in a deep laugh. And you know that the tripping that you feel in your chest, is because you must be falling a little harder at that rich, both throaty and contrastingly soft sound. "Women have those too, believe me kid."
And then the hint of her smirk turns into a smile. Authentic. Almost tender. But with the ever-present mischievous glint sparkling her eyes that is purely hers. "You just have to pick them carefully."
"And are you? Careful I mean." It comes out more flirty than you actually intended as you shift closer to her warmth, but you really don't mind when Alex chuckles a little more in response.
"Not really." She admits, then pauses playing with a strand of your hair, delicately tracing the shell of your ear, and when her eyes return to you there is that light again in them, dark, wanting. Hungry. You can practically read the other half of her answer before the words leave her lips in that seductive hushed tone. "But I always go for what I want."
Oh, she does indeed.
In fact, right after that, she leans in and kisses you again with a starved mouth and a touch that becomes purposeful in no time, holding the renewed promise of a never-ending ecstasy that has your body arch with want against hers.
Alex has been good on that first silent promise she made earlier, showing you enthusiastically what you have been missing out by denying you this. And for a moment you wonder how much of that is about being with a woman and how much it is being with this woman. With Alex. Just Alex.
Whatever answer you could have come up with loses of its importance and meaning with each orgasm Alex drags out from your shuddering writhing body, until you are left as an empty shell of something that have never felt more complete before.
. . .
It becomes a normal occurrence over the following couple of weeks or so.
Now that you have gotten a taste you can't stop.
You finally realize what being addicted to something feels like, what being high truly means. Your body can't get enough of that buzzing feeling, of the pleasant soreness that clings onto you afterward.
Alex's many signatures of passion on your flesh don't have a chance to fade that she replaces them in different more sensitive and pleasantly vulnerable spots, harder, sharper, with every intent to leave a perfect mark on your skin until the next time.
You taste her for the first time with you on your knees, moaning around the tangy, salty, sweet essence of her, licking her until she has to push you away to make you stop when it becomes too much.
She fucks you so hard you barely know how to spell your own name, but hers is always on your tongue.
Please Alex.
More Alex.
Deeper Alex.
Faster Alex.
Fuck me harder Alex.
And she does, she does, she does.
Sometimes it feels like she is just waiting for you to say it, deliberately slowing down, holding back, teasing you, only so she can hear you beg her like this. It should irritate you beyond compare knowing that she is doing it on purpose, but the reward that you get, whenever you voice your desire out loud, is more than worth the way she torments you oh so sweetly.
You can feel her pour every fiber of her being, with barely any effort, into your sweaty, wrecking, scorchingly passionate sex marathons, until your screams turn into the perfect mix that holds both pleasure and a delicious sting of pain. A wonderful bliss that hurts just so good.
You can barely believe the way she makes you feel during these moments.
It's like she breaks you down into pieces, only to build you back up again, but fuller, somehow stronger, and more complete.
You can only hope that she feels like this as well when it is your head between her legs teasing sweet slow orgasms out of her with your tongue on her clit, or with your fingers stretching her out and curling against that spot on her front wall that makes her come more intensely but faster.
But for how wonderful it all is, there is this feeling swelling from somewhere inside you that what you and Alex are doing, could be much more than something simply lust driven.
And if that isn't enough, the whole probable-soulmate-thing is always there, poking at the edge of your mind, ready to trigger a discussion you don't want to have for so many reasons.
The most obvious one is also the most dreaded. The possibility that you were wrong. And that she might not be... meant for you.
But you can't simply ignore the part of you that has literally just woken up with her aid so you pretend that all is good that whatever you are doing doesn't need a label, that you are just experimenting and having a good, proper fuck for the first time in your life. Because it's easier this way, because you are good at pretending, because your head can play along... Because you can ignore the protest that swells in your chest, that for how fierce, it still doesn't stop you from meeting Alex at every chance, feeling quite delighted actually by the fact that she has evidently enjoyed her first time with you so much that she's more than interested in repeating such performance, doesn't matter when and definitely doesn't matter where.
It has been her place that first time, your place a few times after that, in the bathroom stall of the bar you met on one occasion, and, during one particularly heated night, against the fucking wall of an alley outside a club. Dirty and humid. Utterly amazing.
It really doesn't matter where Alex takes you, although, even if you don't know how to explain it, there is a certain welcoming warmth to her place. The surrounding brings feelings of comfort and... odd familiarity. Deja vu-like, but much more subtle, and it's not related to the still fresh memory of your first time.
You allow yourself to admit what it is when, still half-drugged by the lingering traces of your aftershock, you take in the books and vinyl records piled in order in the bookshelf in her room, and at that point there is no longer a barrier from preventing that question that has been bouncing relentlessly in your head to slip from your lips.
"Can I ask you what do you dream about?"
You know that it comes completely out of nowhere, that Alex must think of it as an awfully odd choice for interrupting your comfortable silence, and that even if there is no weight in it, no demand or pressure, just honest curiosity with not even as much hope behind it as you thought your voice was holding, you would have still expected some reluctance, a visible shift in her demeanor, a falter in her touch that would give away the uncomfortable nature of what you at least consider a very delicate topic.
But Alex doesn't react at all, she just keeps running her fingers up and down your arm without breaking her lazy, gentle rhythm, and you don't know what to think of it. Until she answers.
"Most of the times I don't sleep long enough for a dream to take form actually." She confesses eventually, and you feel this... something, forming somewhere in your chest at that information.
It feels so much like something cold, and hollow.
"Oh."
"But if you are talking about those dreams..." She continues, "They don't come very often, and when they do they are usually... hard to decipher."
You know that not everyone has dreams that are as simple and as straightforward to understand as others, but you do know how lonely, and scary, it can feel when the dreams don't come for weeks. You remember that period too well, and you wonder how Alex can sound and look so... calm, while saying something like this.
"I'm sorry." You tell her sincerely.
She just smiles and shrugs. "Don't be, sometimes I can get a few hints here and there."
"Maybe you should try to get more sleep then." You suggest with a tiny smile of your own.
"Should I?" She asks with that smirk that tells exactly what she is thinking about even before she shifts to lay on top of you once again and you find your legs parting in automatic to make space for her as she continues, leaning in and whispering the words against your neck in between sweet lingering kisses. "There are so many things that I prefer doing than getting some sleep," She teases, her hot breath sends a shiver down your spine, making you squirm with renewed need. "And I'm sure you agree with me Pipes."
She doesn't wait for an answer - if she doesn't count the shuddering needy moan that slips past your lips as one. Which she probably does.
Half a second later her hand is on you again, parting your folds, gathering the fresh gush of wetness that she finds there, and then she is slipping effortlessly inside you, deep till her knuckles in one single smooth thrust.
"Oh God... Alex."
As you grip onto her side and ass digging your blunt nails into the solid muscle there, you think that you know you'll never experience something better or more intense and wonderful than having Alex on top of you, feeling her weight on you, her fingers inside you, filling you, stretching you so deliciously, adding the force of her hips behind each one of her thrusts.
You finally understand all the excitement that people have about sex.
The few rushed encounters you have had in college might have turned up being a complete, utter disappointment.
But sex with Alex... God.
It's alive. Breathing. It's beyond comprehension. Beyond any physical law and logic. It locks the rest of the world away and it makes you live right within that sensation where nothing else exists as she takes you deeper, faster, harder, just like you love feeling her.
Raw and authentic.
She doesn't hold back. She gives you everything she has and more, and you take all she gives you, eagerly, greedily, like only you two and the growing throbbing wet need between your legs matters.
So it shouldn't be much of a surprise that during such moment neither of you hear anything else besides the string of moans and groans and pleas mixed with the wet sounds of her fucking you and of your bodies rubbing against each other.
It shouldn't be a surprise that neither of you hears the bedroom door getting opened or the faltering step on the hardwood floor that follows.
But you surely hear that livid, hissed "What the fuck is going on here?"
You pull away from Alex with a start, hands shooting up on instinct to cover yourself, eyes snapping wide open, and as soon as they finally focus, they land on a very furious-looking redhead standing there in the doorway.
A set of keys in her hand, jaw clenched and a gaze flashing red with scorching anger.
It actually happens so fast that you don't even have time to realize what is happening. And then realization comes way too fast, as at Alex's groan of mixed concern and annoyance follows a muttered "fuck" that someone says only when they have been busted.
And not simply by a friend or a roommate you know she doesn't have...
You don't know what hurts most, if the shaky apologetic smile Alex flashes you, or the throb on your cheek after that crazy woman jumps you and punches you before Alex can stop her, but it probably is the feeling of that something cracking open somewhere in your chest when you realize that Alex has lied to you.
Yep... I did it again.