Her apartment is a fucking mess. Elsa's, I mean. There are emptied bottles of Bailey's Irish Cream strewn across the hardwood floor as well as newspapers fluttering in the shitty metal fan she has by the red leather couch.
"What, do sex demons not know how to keep a house?" I tease, standing on my tiptoes to meet those steel eyes. She's a head or so taller than me, which is nothing new. Being 5'3, I swear I'm the shortest woman working on Wall Street.
AWWW BUTTFUCK! I didn't show up at work today! I frantically pull out my Blackberry and scroll through the missed calls. My boss, a Mister Eugene Fitzherbert, has obviously freaked out, seeing as there are five missed calls and a text asking where the hell I was and how irresponsible it was of me not to show up on the first day.
"Excuse me, Elsa," I say as I make my way to a room in the back. I call Eugene back immediately, heart throbbing in my ears, fearing unemployment.
"Yelllloo?" the man on the other line responds.
"Is-Is this Eugene Fitzherbert? Head of brokerage at NASDAQ?"
"Why yes it is, and I do believe this is the new chick, Anna," he says, pronouncing it like "Ann-uh" instead of "Ah-nuh."
"Anna," I correct him.
"Oh, my bad. Do you wanna tell your boss why it is you haven't shown up for work?" I feel his tone skewer me.
"Uh," I bite my lip. "I had a family emergency. My girlfriend isn't feeling too well, the flu actually. So, I'm helping her out."
"Ah," Eugene's tone shifts. "A lesbian stockbroker. Hot." I roll my eyes.
"Look, I'm sorry. Cut my pay. I'll be there tomorrow, promise."
Eugene laughs and says, "You're lucky I'm the youngest, and therefore the coolest, higher-up at NASDAQ. See you tomorrow." He hangs up.
Elsa strides into the room. "Who was that?" she asks, placing her delicate porcelain hands on my shoulder.
I jerk away from her grasp. "My boss. Eugene. I was late to work because I chased your ass."
"Pity."
I wring my hands. "Why are we even here at your place of living? I am trying to hate you right now."
She leans in to bite my lower lip. "But, Anna, you never can. I don't care for Robin Thicke but 'I know you want it.' I can smell you getting wet. I heard you call me your 'girlfriend' on the phone with that Ivy League wanker." Elsa begins to do the thing that drives me absolutely insane: she's rubbing the curve of my jawline, softly applying the pressure of her sharp French tipped nails. I do nothing.
"Anna, you can hate me, and I don't care. You'll always want me. You don't have to love someone to fuck them."
"Then you don't love me," I interject.
Elsa recoils, bitterly. "When did I ever say that?"
I roll my eyes and begin to lift her dress over her head. "You're not gonna be in charge today." The pink sundress rises over her blonde head and finds a new home in a huddle on the floor. Obviously, this is a guest bedroom what with the queen size bed with mahogany finishing on the headboard. The wallpaper and carpet are dull and everything in here is from goddam IKEA, the place no one likes.
I'm fooling with her black thong now, inserting my fingers under the elastic band.
"Do it, do it, do it," Elsa squeaks, as if she had never been a bottom in all her life as a succubus.
I indulge her. I slowly pull the thongs off and place them where the sundress is. Now I'm gazing at her terrific slit, a tiny canyon surrounded by a landing patch of blonde hairs. The carpet matches the drapes. I do not want to stare too long, because I'm not that girl and having Stockholm Syndrome is bad enough. Hi, I'm Anna, and I have staring contests with the cunt of my former rapist, whom I'm unexplainably attracted to. "Get ready for this, Morningstar," I rasp as I crack my knuckles like a seasoned boxer.
I finger her first. I stick my index and bird finger deep into her, making a come-hither motion which sends her over the edge.
"Nnnnnnn..." Sweat forms on her abdomen.
I work harder and harder now, using my other hand to twist her clit, which makes her even more expressive. After some time, she's drenched, and I use my mouth to siphon the nectar. She doesn't take long to orgasm, seeing as she's never been the bottom. All these years, it has been pent up, I guess. But here she lies, a hot mess slumbering while I lick my hands clean of her sex.
