THE SIMPLE NEED

AN: As always thanks for the awesome support everyone. I'm hugely appreciative of every word of feedback I get for this piece. Hope you enjoy this third instalment :)

Thanks to Nickelback, Rihanna, The Veronicas, Chris Brown, T Pain, Kings of Leon, Ne-Yo, Lil Wayne, Lady Gaga, John Mayer and other artists who assisted me with this labour of lust... I mean... love.

A reminder that this story is rated M. If you can't work out why then you have missed all the innuendo of the first two chapters. I suggest taking a look at the title of the song which inspired a great deal of this story.

~.~

THE SIMPLE NEED: THREE

"No" is a dirty word,
Never gonna say it first,
"No" is just a thought that never crosses my mind

...


Sex is always the answer, it's never a question

...

It's always yes

S.E.X. by Nickelback

~.~

The music pulsated through her veins, embodying her limbs, her core, her being, her spirit. All that existed was her, the dance floor, the bass – and him.

At first their movements had been cautious with a safe distance between them, or as safe as the crowded dance floor would allow. As more people were drawn toward the flashing lights and pumping music, the tighter the squeeze became, and the distance between them gradually evaporated entirely.

Sly touches of the waist and arm evolved into a grinding rhythm; sometimes she would twirl around and thrust her ass against his denim clad hardened length. Innocent occasional caresses of his hands over her taut, slender frame became increasingly blatant, to the point of groping freely at her supple breasts and teasing her erect nipples, running down her back to cup her firm behind and pull her in closer, pelvis meeting pelvis, her heat meeting his throb.

Gabriella's hips moved in time with the beat, knees bending, body pressing up against his as she gradually moved lower and lower; his hands which had been at her waist travelling up her frame. Cheeks flushed, her chocolate eyes stared up at him with a lustful gaze as she was around the height of his belly button. It took a severe amount of control on Troy's part to not yank down his fly and request her servitude in the middle of the dance floor.

"Fuck..." he grunted.

His azure gaze darkened as he rubbed her way back up his body, the smirk on her face indicative that she was very well aware of the effect she was having upon him. There was a reason for dancing to be viewed as sinful. Their interactions had escalated from playful, to suggestive, to blatant foreplay. She stood on tiptoes, her lips just barely grazing against his in a playful kiss. She pulled away just as Troy went to further the kiss, his lips left hanging in the air. Gabriella turned to mould her back into his form. He swept her ebony locks away to allow his lips to the crook of the right of her neck and then suckling lightly. Her hands reached behind her, delicate digits clutching at the hair at the nape of his neck. He continued to suck at the sweet spot on her neck, hearing an unmistakable gasp emitting from her lips.

He released the skin and murmured in her ear, "You like that, huh?" before continuing to press a trail of kisses along the soft skin.

Suddenly she felt a desperate, consuming urge to kiss him and twirled around. Her arms snaked behind her neck once more and she practically forced his lips down to meet hers – not that he particularly minded. The kiss was longing, passionate, intense. They'd practically given up the pretence of dancing, not just kissing in a zealous frenzy.

The alcohol had all but disappeared from her system and normally she'd be highly aware of people's perceptions but Gabriella didn't care. She didn't care who was watching. She didn't care who was judging her on the basis of her demeanour. She was still drunk – but drunk on him, drunk on his touch, drunk on his taste.

The music, and him – that was all that mattered.

She moaned into his kiss, feeling his hand as it worked its way beneath the denim at the seat of her jeans, fingers clawing at her lace panties which covered her behind as their kisses continued, lips dancing, tongues stroking.

"Get a room," Troy heard a voice request beside him teasingly.

He pulled away from his Goddess, glaring at band mate Drew as he passed by with his girlfriend. Drew was glancing back with a smirk on his face. Troy wasn't opposed to the recommendation, and his eyes flickered toward the back of house band area.

"Taken," Drew called back quickly.

Troy rolled his eyes and turned back to Gabriella. She was looking at him curiously. Hair a little tousled, lipgloss completely worn away, a red mark accented on the skin of her neck – she was delectable. His right hand cupped her cheek, thumb gently stroking as he leaned down to press his lips to hers softly.

"Want to take a break?" he asked.

Whilst dancing and grinding she'd felt completely fine; but after a moments pause, her feet were suddenly feeling like lead. Her Manolo Blahniks may be pretty but they weren't the best shoes for a night of dancing.

"Yes please," she requested with a slightly shy nod.

It occurred to him that with the exception of pants and mewls and gasps, those were the first words he'd heard from her mouth in a while. He led her by the hand toward the bar where he obtained a couple of bottles of water, and then lead her back toward his booth, still vacant with its reserved sign intact. Gabriella collapsed onto the bench, her feet eternally grateful. As she took a long sip of water, her parched throat thankful her for the cool liquid refreshment. Troy slid into the seat beside her, once again sitting up close. His hand automatically fell to rest upon her knee, fingers tracing small circles on the inside of her thigh.

"So when's the last time that you went out dancing?" he enquired.

Gabriella scoffed a little. "I honestly cannot even remember."

"You seemed like you were enjoying yourself," he observed, recalling the look of abandon on her face as she'd moved in time with the music.

She nodded. "I resist going out all the time... and yet every time I do go out, I enjoy myself so much. If I'm in the right mood and I like the DJ, I could just dance for hours and hours." The smile on her face was one of pure joy, one of those smiles which caused a chain reaction, Troy smiling at the sight of her smiling. "Plus it helps when I'm with good company," she added with a cheeky expression.

"Good company? Is that how you'd describe me?" Troy enquired, eyebrows raised. "Of all adjectives, the best you have is good?"

"Mmm... nice company?" she supplied, in mock thought, a finger on her chin.

"Nice? Me?" he scoffed, before leaning over to press his lips to hers in a rough kiss.

"Yes... kissing me like that is totally the way to prove that you're some big bad guy," she said with a smirk, before musing, "You remind me of like... a little Maltese Terrier.

Troy did a double take, his eyes boggling. "Ex-cuse me?"

"They like, get all huffy and bark and try to act tough but in reality they're just this bundle of fluff and cuteness and it's all bark with no bite," she explained her analogy.

His eyebrows creased. "Gabriella... please don't mistake me for being someone that I'm not." He couldn't help but feel concerned at something in her tone – as though she was gaining some sort of faith that she could be a white knight and rescue him from his ways.

"Troy... I know who you are... I know what... this is," Gabriella said, swallowing as she spoke the words. This being a one night stand. If she'd had any disillusions earlier, Taylor would have quashed them with her foreboding warning. She shot him her dazzling smile. "And I'm fine with it. I'm a willing participant here."

He felt placated, looking at her in the eye and seeing nothing but sincerity. She wasn't telling him what he wanted to hear. She understood. In many ways for Troy that was a more important factor than attraction and chemistry. He didn't want to have to deal with the morning after conversation. He didn't want to have to sit down and explain that 'I'm just not in a good place right now' and 'it's not you, it's me' and 'you were great babe, I'd love it if we could be friends.' In particular he really didn't want to have to instigate that exchange with Gabriella. For some reason he sensed it would be more difficult than normal, making it even more important that they were on the same page.

"Okay," he murmured with a small smile on his face. He pressed a short kiss to her lips, pulled away and examined her for a moment. She was nothing short of breathtaking, and he wasn't one to hold back from expressing his thoughts. "Fuck, you're hot," he mumbled, his lips dropping to her collarbone.

"Mmm, look who is talking. Good company... nice company... hot company...sexy company..." Gabriella rasped, her fingers raking through his hair.

Lips fused together and hands began to roam the crevasses of one another's bodies. Even with the loud music and the sound of fellow patrons talking and laughing, it was difficult to remember that they were still in a public place, the rest of it somewhat floating away. With past boyfriends, Gabriella had drawn the line at kissing in public, anything beyond that was meant for the privacy of one's home. However with Troy, it was as though they existed within their own bubble. There was a protective dome around their little private cushy booth, shielding them from the staring eyes of the outside world.

His hands had been focusing upon her upper body, but now a hand fell back to her thigh, working its way up. She trembled as his fingers danced around her inner, upper thigh; shuddered when they moved a few inches up and began to stroke ever so sensually at her denim clad mound. She pulled away from their kiss, a little breathless, and Troy's lips immediately latched themselves back onto her neck, feeling the desperate need to keep his lips focused on any aspect of her smooth, supple body. He planted a trail of nibbles up her neck. A shiver ran down her spine as his tongue flicked at her earlobe.

"Are you wet?" he murmured by her ear, fingers continuing their dance over her sex.

"Y-yes," she stammered in a moan. Her hips bucked, wanting to feel his firm touch, the feathered strokes driving her crazy.

He grunted slightly, imagining the sensation of his fingers sliding among her slippery, wet, warm cavern. His thoughts flashed to something other than his fingers thrusting within her depths.

"Fuck, I wish you were wearing a skirt," he groaned by her ear.

His thumb pressed over where he approximated her clit was located; and if the zealous fervour of the kiss she pressed to his lips was any indication, he'd approximated with deadly accuracy.

"I wish I was wearing a skirt too," she confessed in a whisper.

Her cheeks flushed as she spoke the words, practically feeling his hand on her bare thigh, going beneath the material of a skirt, creeping up to dart beneath the lace of her pale blue boy short panties. The distance between them was infuriatingly far, exchanging kisses and touching his body was not enough contact for her liking. She shifted her weight, a leg swinging over Troy's body and hoisting over to straddle him. His hands fell to her backside, encouraging her to sink her weight down on him, caressing her ass as he pulled her even closer.

"This would be difficult if I was wearing a skirt," she murmured into his ear before initiating a steamy kiss.

He kissed her back with equal energy before tearing his lips away to respond, "If you were wearing a floaty skirt it would be perfect... you could go to the bathroom and get rid of your panties, then all I'd have to do is pull down my fly, shove down my boxers..."

Troy guided her hips, hoisting her to lift her body weight slightly up, and then guided her to pull down at the precise moment as he thrust his hips up, creating maximum contact between the throb in his jeans and her heated core. It was the perfect illustration of precisely what he was insinuating could take place. Gabriella might have been shocked or offended in the suggestion that she would take part in such activity; however in that moment she was so attracted, so aroused, so entranced within the moment – that there was a part of her that was reprimanding herself for not choosing a floaty skirt when she'd selected her outfit for the evening. She pressed her lips to his, one hand toying with the hair at the nape of his neck and the other at the hem of his shirt, the black cotton being pushed up his chest and allowing her fingers to trace over the hardness of his defined abdomen. She could feel his hardened length pressing right against where she so wanted him, and yet it wasn't enough. There was no doubt that what they were doing was not grinding, it was blatant dry sex.

Gabriella moaned into his kiss and pulled away to take a proper breath. Troy's tongue licked lightly at her neck before placing soft kisses along her collarbone and drifting down until he was suckling at the visible skin of the swell of her breast. Straddling his lap, she was at perfect height, allowing her to throw her head back and simply revel in the sensation of their sexes thrust together, mimicking a dance of love making, the feel of his lips and tongue against her smooth skin. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open, struggling to refrain from moaning aloud.

He retracted his lips from her breast, pouting a little for a moment. But when she felt his hip thrusting stilt and his fingers begin to pry with the button of her jeans, she froze for a moment. She couldn't react. She couldn't look around to see who was watching. All she could do was stare into his eyes, his mesmerising blue eyes. She was clutching at his chest, her grasp tightening as his fingers pulled down the fly and managed to squeeze their way down to dance across the lace of her panties. It was a tight fit without a lot of room to move, but if anything that was serving to heighten her desperation. He was touching her, but not quite the way she wanted; a step closer than before but her needs were being left unfulfilled.

"Someone's been a naughty girl," Troy murmured, a smirk on his lips. "All wet and aroused. Hardly appropriate for such a good girl."

She whimpered and moaned by his ear, "Oh God... Troy...." she moaned by his ear, feeling the pressure of his index finger rubbing at her clit through the lace.

She forced her lips to his, afraid of giving her ecstasy away through her vocal responses and needing the kiss to swallow them up. She shifted back ever so slightly, giving him a little more room and exposing the engorged bump at the front of his jeans. She'd been grinding against him for what felt like both hours and also a few minutes at the same time; and yet she'd not touched him directly with her hands. Her right hand which had been stroking at his warm, hard abs ran down his firm body, reaching the snail trail which guided her down lower. She bypassed his belt buckle and her hand finally came into direct contact with the denim prison which encased his throbbing erection. It was his turn to grunt into their kiss, merely the contact of her hand over his member causing his arousal to heighten further.

"Gabriella?" he rasped, pulling away from the kiss, intense blue eyes meeting her clouded chocolate gaze. "Feel how hard I am?" She nodded, squeezing lightly for effect before continuing her light stroking pattern. "All for you, baby. This is going to be fucking incredible, I just feel it..."

Somehow he managed to manoeuvre his index finger beneath her panties, finally having direct contact with the slickness of her warm folds. She whimpered as he traced his powerful digit in an intoxicating circle around her entrance, finally slipping it into her depths.

"Oh shit..." she moaned, forgetting to censor herself in public.

His free hand came up to press a finger against her lips. "Sshhh... don't want to get kicked out. This place has some standards, and even if they do love me they'll draw a line somewhere."

As he spoke the words, he wondered if he was making a huge mistake. They'd just slipped out – partly because he was aware that people around them were very well aware that they were canoodling and engaging in foreplay but he suspected that Gabriella wasn't quite as coherent. And the moment that they registered and she began to react, he knew that he'd made a mistake. Her eyes widened, as though suddenly becoming aware of what she was doing. Her hand snatched away from his crotch and yanked his hand away from her intimate area.

"Oh my... I... I can't... I can't do this..." she stammered, about to move away from her position straddling him.

"Ssshhh calm down," he said soothingly, immediately on damage control, his left hand holding her waist in place. The notion of not going home with this woman that night was simply not able to be comprehended by Troy at that point. "This is... this is natural, Gabriella. Two people, being attracted, acting on that attraction..."

Her right index finger came up to his lips, mimicking his action, silencing his speech. "Troy..." she said, a coy smile on her lips. "You can save your breath, you don't need to repeat your spiel. I just mean... that I can't do this... here. In public. You know?"

The worry immediately washed away from his expression, relief coming over him. "Oh... okay. That's... um... really good."

"You were so worried then," she teased him, promptly pressing her lips to his softly. "That was cute. You must really want me."

"Yes," he said boldly. "And..." he rose his right index finger which was still coated with the glisten of her arousal. "It seems that you desire me also." He placed his finger inside his mouth, withdrawing it slowly, sucking the juices away.

The look of desire on her face was unmistakable. She zealously kissed him, tasting herself on his lips, the kiss escalating until once again they were in the throes of a passionate make out, like two teenagers with only minutes until parents were due home.

It was Troy who broke the kiss, this time with a very specific intent.

"At the risk of sounding really cliché... do you wanna get out of here?" he murmured.

To make the point of exactly why he wanted to 'get out' of there, he brought his lips back down to suckle at her breast. She let out an involuntary moan.

"Mmm," was all that she could bring herself to say.

He smiled as he looked back up at her. "Is that a no?"

Two hours ago, the thought of saying yes to a relative stranger suggesting they 'get out of here' would have been completely foreign to Gabriella. Something that only a dirty girl with less than savoury values would do.

Two hours had proved to be revolutionary.

"No," she gasped.

His eyes clouded over, for a brief moment in time bewilderment filling him and wondering where the hell he'd gone wrong, how he'd read the signals wrong, whether he'd been confused when she'd clarified her intent just minutes earlier. She read the perplexity on his face, and hastily clarified.

"I mean... no... it's not a no."

A smile filled his features. "So it's a yes?"

"Troy... when it's you that is involved... it's always yes."

He grinned. "Good lyric recall there"

"I really like Dark Horse, I already knew the song," she reminded him.

"What's your favourite song on the album?"

Gabriella paused, contemplating the question, before responding with a suggestive look, "I'd... Come... For You."

Troy's eyes darkened, his breath hitching. If she'd just said the song title without innuendo, he would have made the innuendo filled crack for her. But hearing her say those words, emphasis placed upon the word 'come' – it was blatantly arousing.

"You'll come for me all right," he said, his gravelly tone almost a growl. He kissed her once more, passionate but short. "Umm... you might want to do up your fly before we stand up."

Gabriella giggled, the sound of her laugh utterly magical to Troy, and she obeyed him, quickly doing up the zipper and button and also smoothing her blouse down.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Smoking hot," Troy declared. "And kinda like you're on the way to being completely ravished. But that's cool. The chicks will be jealous of you and the guys will be jealous of me."

She gave him a look as she retracted her body from its position straddling him. He immediately missed the feel of her being so close to him and after standing up, he held his hand out to help her up and didn't let go as they moved away from the booth.

"Okay..." she said, glancing toward the front door and working out the best path to navigate through the throngs of people

"We have to go through the back area," he said, reminding her, "our coats and your purse are there."

She'd literally forgot completely about her purse, grateful that he had some semblance of common sense remaining. He led the way, navigating through the crowd. Gabriella was the recipient of more than one jealous stare from a number of Troy's fangirls who were partying the night away. When they reached the doorway, Troy fumbled in his pocket for his key. As she turned the key in the lock, he turned back to his companion.

"Umm... you might wanna put your hand up like this." He held his left hand up to the side of his face, as though shielding the peripheral vision to his left.

"Why?" she asked in a puzzled tone, cocking her head slightly.

"There's a lounge backstage and when Drew interrupted us while we were dancing before, he was heading back there. I'm guessing that by now they've progressed way beyond making out."

Gabriella's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing. "Oh..."

"It'll just be for a second while we pass through that bit," he smirked. "I'll protect you, I promise."

She tagged along behind him, clutching to his elbow with her right hand, leaving her left hand free to guard her vision as he had recommended. He quickly retrieved her purse and both of their coats, and continued the way through. He was feeling a desperate need to be out of the club and within the confines of her apartment. Her delicate hand was stroking the small of his back, that touch alone being enough elicit dirty thoughts within his brain – not that his brain had been thinking anything but dirty thoughts since the moment he'd laid eyes upon this woman back in the intermission – which felt so long ago but in reality was only a couple of hours earlier.

He turned around, spontaneously pulling her toward him for a kiss, a lustful kiss, a lingering, desperate kiss. They tumbled out of the club via the back entrance, Gabriella struggling to retain a hold of her purse, now having to dedicate a small amount of her energy toward ensuring the strap remained on her shoulder, energy she'd prefer to channel in the direction of retaining maximum contact between her hands and his body.

The back door emerged into an alley which was also a very small parking area for a select few staff. She was so swept up in the lips of Troy and the hands of Troy and the abs of Troy, refusing to desist from their desperate kisses. They almost stumbled into the black Lancer that belonged to the club manager, just barely bypassing it and Troy finding his back pressed up against the exterior wall of the club, her hands pawing at the bottom hem of his t-shirt, the material lifting slightly as she sought the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips. He couldn't even feel the cool chill of air meeting the skin that was exposed between his t-shirt and the top of his boxers.

She pulled back from him momentarily and he used that moment of separation to his advantage, grabbing her by the arms and flipping their positions, leaving her pressed up against the wall with his forearms against the wall, caging her in. There were no thoughts of getting dirty marks on her dry clean only coat, rather the thoughts that filled her mind were whether Drew and his girlfriend may vacate the couch in the back room any time soon because it seemed all too far to walk up the alley to hail a cab. He'd shifted back slightly and now Troy's dextrous hands, the hands of a musician, were busy playing music of a different kind. One had worked its way up her halter top, shifting the lace of the right cup of her strapless bra down and allowing his thumb to make direct contact with her erect nipple, flicking at the sensitive nub whilst he groped at her breast. The other hand was poised over her sex, fingers lightly stroking over the lightweight denim.

"Oh fuck! Sorry man!" Troy and Gabriella snapped apart, looking up to see one of the bartenders, escaping out into the alley on his break for a smoke. "I'll uh... I can just go somewhere else."

"It's cool," Troy said swiftly. "Stay here. We're taking off anyway."

And with that he practically pulled Gabriella's arm out of the socket to yank her in the direction of the main street. She was somehow managing to keep up with his stride, her heels click clacking as she practically jogged along.

They paused on the street momentarily for a short kiss before Troy turned his concentration to the street in front of him, arm out. He'd always had luck with hailing cabs and it only took a couple of minutes to successfully flag down an available vehicle. He held the door open for Gabriella, enjoying the view of her ass as she bent over to step into the backseat and shuffle along.

"It's the corner of Bedford and Grove, right?" he said to her in a low voice, confirming the location of the building that she'd moved into.

"Umm... yes but..." she hesitated, and bit her lip. "Can we go to yours? I just um... I've hardly unpacked anything, there's boxes everywhere, I haven't even bought a bed yet. It's just a mattress on the floor at the moment."

Troy was a little taken aback. His instinct was to tell her that he didn't care, that they didn't need more than a mattress on the floor for what they had planned. He always went to the woman's place, always. Even when he'd had girlfriends, they very sparsely came to his place, at least within recent years. He wasn't ashamed of his apartment, it was a small and modest studio but there was nothing wrong with it. Rather, his apartment was very private to him, it was his space to just be him. Allowing someone into that space was a big step for Troy. However as they sat in the backseat of a cab with the meter ticking and the driver waiting expectantly for a direction; his dick literally straining against his jeans and longing for the privacy to obtain release, he wasn't particularly in the frame of mind to argue with her about the matter. He quickly gave his address along with directions – he was accustomed to cab drivers attempting to rip off customers by taking longer routes than required.

"Jones Street... that's pretty close to me," Gabriella mused. "Isn't it?"

"Yup," Troy confirmed.

Greenwich Village wasn't like the midtown area which was notorious for its traffic gridlocks; it was only a few short minutes drive. And yet those few minutes were precious, the pair not bearing to spend that time in discreet separation at opposite sides of the cab's backseat. She wasn't the making out in the backseat on the way back to a hot guy's apartment kind of girl, and yet that was precisely what she was becoming. And rather than feeling uncomfortable or questioning whether perhaps Troy might be judging her on the basis of her behaviour, or that the cab driver might be rolling his eyes at her – she found herself feeling liberated. Liberated by the sheer decision to follow her instincts, to listen to that desire that was burning in her core, and to live as opposed to merely existing. Her inner desires told her that she not only wanted but that she needed this man. She needed to feel his lips on every inch of her skin, to experience the unadulterated ecstasy that his whispers in the bar had promised. By now there was hardly an ounce of alcohol remaining in her system, at least not to the point of severely influencing her behaviour. She almost couldn't believe her own behaviour, a brief split second of contemplation of who this woman was and why she was behaving in such a manner. But she was beyond caring, too swept up in the moment, too swept up in him.

The vehicle pulling up where Troy had directed him to almost went unnoticed. Troy had to pry his lips away from Gabriella's. A crisp twenty was produced from his wallet and tossed it at the cab driver with a suave note to, "Keep the change."

They tumbled out of the cab and a good few minutes were spent in a passionate embrace on the footpath before Troy guided her over to the short series of steps which led to the door of his apartment building.

"Okay... we'll be upstairs a whole lot quicker if we can stop kissing for a few minutes," he said with a grin, leading her by the hand up the steps where he fumbled with his keys in the lock. He could feel her lips as they hovered by his neck, her warm breath tickling just behind his ear before she licked at his skin.

"But I don't wanna stop kissing you," she confessed in a pouty tone, her hands snaking around his waist, one hand reaching south and cupping over his erection.

The door swung open and her body wrapped up in his from behind, head resting against his shoulder, she followed him through and kicked the door shut behind her, not willing to remove her hands from their place, one pushing up his black t-shirt to ghost over his abdomen and the other following the snail trail down. Even wearing a belt his jeans were loose, making it relatively easy to slip her slight hand down, this time dipping beneath the waist band of his boxers, beneath the belt buckle which was situated an inch or so beneath the top of his boxers. Her fingers raked through the curly tendrils of hair before dipping her hand lower.

The first time that he felt the direct sensation of her soft hand stroking his hardened length, they were standing at the bottom of the stairwell. He froze in place the moment that she felt her delicate hand grip around his arousal. He'd been eternally grateful all night long that he'd chosen to wear boxers instead of boxer briefs that night, he'd been forced to readjust himself so that his length was resting awkwardly to the side in its aroused state. It had been years since he'd literally felt this aroused just at the slight touches and grinds he'd been experiencing with this exhilarating woman. Her hand gripped him at the end of his length, her thumb making a circle at the very tip, feeling the slick extract which was already seeping. He groaned and clutched to the banister as her hand stroked down and up, down and up. The last thing that Troy wanted was a premature arrival, not only could it potentially ruin the mood but it would be a dent to his ego. This woman was causing his body to react like a horny teenager who had no control of his reactions. It took every ounce of his strength to remove her hand. He spun around, pressing a solid, probing kiss to her lips before murmuring, "Not here. Come on."

He led her by the hand up the flights of stairs, this time she obliged and allowed the process to go on unimpaired. She followed him up the stairs, then down the corridor where he stopped in front of a door with a silver metal 3B labelling it. He swiftly unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch just inside before standing back to allow her to enter.

He lived in a modest, third floor studio apartment in a low rise apartment building. He struggled to make ends meet and really he knew that he should move to a cheaper neighbourhood, but he loved the Village; and if staying there meant that he had to survive on two minute noodles and grilled cheese some weeks, then so be it. She stepped into the room and curiously glanced around. To her immediate right was a doorway into what she assumed to be a bathroom. She took a few more steps forward, passing the bathroom. There was a tiny kitchen which backed onto the bathroom wall; a couch rested up against the right wall, a television on a cabinet across from it on the left wall, a stereo system also set up in the cabinet. A bed ran along the right wall, facing toward the balcony, with a high backed bed head which provided an illusion of privacy. Across from the bed on the left wall there was a desk with a computer.

"It's not much," Troy said awkwardly. "I uh... it's just me, you know, so I don't need much space."

"I like it," Gabriella declared sincerely.

It was practical, to the point, and the little that she knew of this man, it felt like it was his apartment. There was a phenomenal CD collection littering the shelves of the cabinet. An acoustic guitar rested on the couch. An Xbox was on the floor in front of the television. There were no useless decorative items lying about, a few photo frames rested on the shelves of the cabinet. It wasn't perfectly neat, there were a few CDs lying on the floor in front of the cabinet, some music magazines by the couch, a single bowl, spoon and coffee mug in the kitchen sink, a pair of jeans and a shirt were on the floor in front of the wardrobe beside the desk. It was masculine, yet homely.

"Thank you," Troy said. There was a moment to awkward silence. He wasn't accustomed to having to accommodate someone else, to be hospitable. "Uh... can I get you anything? A drink? I have..." he opened his fridge, examining the relatively bare contents before concluding sheepishly, "Beer."

"Um, a glass of water?" she requested timidly.

"Sure thing, coming right up."

"And uh... may I use your bathroom?"

He hesitated a moment, before sweeping over to the bathroom door and glancing inside, wanting to check to make sure it was safe. It was relatively tidy, a pair of boxer briefs lay on the floor which he promptly picked up and tossed into the laundry hamper in the corner.

"Sure thing, go for it. My place is your place," he said, waving her in.

"Okay. I won't be long."

Troy busied himself, taking off his coat which he threw over the arm of the couch. He then poured a couple of glasses of water which he brought to place onto the small wooden coffee table in front of the couch. He picked up his acoustic guitar and placed it standing upright against the wall out of the way. He then went over to the stereo, promptly selecting a fairly safe choice – a John Mayer CD – into the slot. When she emerged from the bathroom, her hair looking a little tidier and lipgloss now coating her lips, he smiled in amusement at the female need to primp when all he was going to do was kiss the gloss away and cause her hair to be a tangled mess.

"I love John Mayer!" she gushed. She took off her coat and draped it over the opposite arm of the couch and sat down beside him.

He grinned, silently congratulating himself on his selection. She picked up her glass of water and took a sip as the soft sounds of Come Back To Bed played over the speakers. Gabriella leaned down, rubbing at her calves a little, her legs feeling a little sore as a result of wearing her heels for a longer period of time than she would normally.

"Take them off if you want," Troy encouraged her. "I don't know how or why you girls put up with wearing those things. Here, I'll take off my shoes and we'll be even." She giggled as he slid off his Converse, kicking them slightly away. "You'll be taking them off eventually anyway."

She blushed as she undid the straps and placed her shoes neatly by the coffee table. "For all I knew maybe you have a thing for heels."

He shook his head. "Nah... those heels are dangerous. They could take an eye out!"

"I'm not sure when my feet would be anywhere near your head," she commented.

Troy smirked. His erection had settled a little but he felt it twitch a little as his brain contemplated his comment. "I can think of one primary situation to start with," he commented. "And I'm sure if we found a karma sutra manual, there would be plenty of others, providing you're fairly flexible. You seem flexible."

She contemplated his comment, her cheeks flushing as she envisaged herself engaged in that very position she suspected he was inferring; tasting his hardness between her lips, feeling his tongue against her heat. She glanced around the room, her eyes darting around as she felt a little uncomfortable. It was becoming glaringly obvious why this wasn't something that she typically took part in.

Luckily Troy wasn't anywhere near as nervous – rather he was becoming increasingly frustrated. The woman was incapable of hiding her reactions, the glaze in her eyes and the flush of her cheeks each time illicit thoughts crossed her mind. Just viewing that reaction was driving him crazy and all he wanted to do was drag her over to his bed and make it happen.

"Gabriella," Troy murmured, moving a little closer to her on the couch, his now bare foot rubbing up against hers. "Has anyone ever told you that you are an absolutely stunning, beautiful, gorgeous woman who deserves to be worshipped?"

"Uh..." she swallowed, a wave of arousal hitting her as his hands danced their way up her top, the black material shifting up and leaving her taut abdomen visible. "I... can't seem to recall right now."

He pulled the lace of the cups of her bra down, before retracting his hands and then pulling down her halter top, revealing the peaks of her supple breasts. His lips came down, suckling upon the swell of her right breast, his tongue teasingly circling around the dark pink bud and then taking it between his teeth, suckling, lightly grazing his teeth against it, flicking his tongue. His hands were busy at work untying her halter straps, pulling the front of her top down to provide easier access. She was mewling at the sensation of his stimulating actions. His lips shifted across to her left breast, repeating the same series of actions.

Troy grasped at the hem of her black halter top, breaking from his connection with her breast so that he could remove the top, discarding it onto the carpet. He reached around her back with one hand undoing the clasps of her strapless bra and allowing the lacy material to fall away, finally exposing her breasts entirely. He was more than pleased, he was blatantly aroused at the sight of her pert mounds, a perfect handful.

"Fuck you're hot," he murmured, his hands sliding up her slender frame and cupping her breasts.

Their lips fused together, his rough hands squeezing and caressing her breasts, pinching at her nipples. Gabriella's hands began to toy with the hem of his shirt, pulling away from their kiss so that she could remove the black cotton. She'd already caught sneak peeks of his abdomen and her hands had felt just how well defined he was. But finally seeing his bare chest provided cause to stop and stare for a good moment, biting her bottom lip and swallowing. He was unbelievably stunning. His muscles were perfectly proportional to his frame, strong and defined without being overbearing. She found herself experiencing an overwhelming desire to kiss and lick and touch and taste every inch of his body. Their kisses resumed once more and it was Gabriella who was the first to make the next blatant move, her hands finding their way to his belt buckle, undoing the brown leather strap and then unpopping his button and yanking down the fly of his jeans. The throb in his jeans was grateful for the ease of pressure, and he was quick to lift his hips from the couch to assist her in pulling the blue denim down. She left them hanging below his knees, she'd already moved onto the next task, her lips leaving his and it was now her turn to trail kisses down his neck, along his collarbone, trailing down to his firm, hard chest.

She focused on his pectorals, giving attention to each of his nipples, licking and teasing the dark buds in a similar fashion to the treatment he'd given her. He was stimulated by the action but what was more stimulating was the general direction that her kisses were heading. Her lips continued down south , her body shifting to kneel on the floor in front of him.

She gazed up at him, a momentary flashback to their dance in the club where her chocolate gaze had stared alluringly up at his darkened azure eyes. Her hands fell to the waistband of his boxers and again he lifted his hips, allowing her to pull down the material and finally allow his straining erection to be freed, standing at attention.

Gabriella had known women who actively enjoyed giving blowjobs. She was fairly neutral on the matter, she didn't love it but she wasn't opposed to it. But everything else about her encounter with Troy had gone against the grain of regular and so it shouldn't have been a surprise that he was revolutionising yet another area. Because as Gabriella's right hand enclosed around the tip of his length and began to slowly stroke his hard member, her desperate urge to taste his body was kicking in. She not only wanted but she needed to feel him between her lips, to lick and kiss and suck.

Troy didn't want to beg but he was desperate, her intoxicatingly slow strokes were driving him utterly insane. It was crude, but it was true – he needed her to suck him. He stared at her pleadingly, and without taking her eyes off him, she finally dipped her head down, taking the very tip of his length between her lips, her right hand sitting at the base and pumping languorously. He groaned as her tongue twirled around the head, his length hardening further.

Troy had been with quite a few women over the years, he'd experienced the art of fellatio in a variety of forms. It never failed to fascinate him how a woman's personality was often indicative through her approach to instilling pleasure upon his penis. She was precise, on task, a little tentative. He'd encourage her vocally and he'd see the surprise in her eyes that he was enjoying her actions. She wasn't slobbering all over him like some, she wasn't even attempting to deep throat or use any sort of trickery. That wasn't necessary. He suspected that she could be doing anything to him and he'd find it arousing. There was something about her which gelled with him, an overall aura exuding from her. The little noises she was making, the way she looked up at him, the way that she was eager to please but firm to the rules of dignity she obviously had in place for herself.

A few minutes in and Troy was desperately close to tipping over the edge and a part of him wanted to, he wanted to so badly. He didn't recover as quickly as he did as a teenager but he was certainly capable of a second round. But he didn't want to arrive this way, not with her, he didn't want to prolong the main event any more than necessary.

"Gabriella... stop... have to... stop..." he wheezed. "Oh fuck..."

Her lips released his length with a satisfying popping sound, glancing up at him. She was about to speak when his hands gripped her beneath the arms, pulling her up as he simultaneously rose to his feet.

"Fuck you're so hot..." he murmured.

He pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. His fingers fumbled with her jeans, undoing her button and fly for the second time that evening and this time continuing to peel the denim down her perfectly shaped legs. He crouched as he pulled her jeans down, lips hovering over her pale blue lace panties which were evidently saturated with the evidence of her arousal. He began to kiss her inner thigh as he removed her jeans completely. She reached out, an arm steadying herself as she lifted each foot to assist him in the process. His hands ran up the back of her silky smooth legs, all the way up to rest upon her luscious backside. Still crouching, he continued to kiss and nibble at her inner right thigh. He moved across, his breath tickling over her damp, panty-covered mound before mimicking the motions and kissing her left thigh. She was trembling, quivering in anticipation of what she so desperately wanted. He rose, trailing licks and nibbles up her naked torso, suckling at each of her nipples, before he was standing upright and their lips had fused together once more. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach.

Whilst in the midst of hungry kisses, Troy carefully guided her backwards toward his bed, not breaking their embrace. She only stopped when the back of her calves hit the bed, and she toppled backward onto the mattress. Troy followed, bending over to press a kiss to her lower abdomen just above the waistband of her panties, causing a whimper to escape her mouth. He snaked up her body, licked up her stomach, a circle tracing around her bellybutton before continuing north, away from teh direction she so wanted him to be heading. His knees came to rest on the mattress on either side of her, hovering above her as he attended to her breasts and then finally his mouth was on hers once more. They managed to reshuffle themselves on the bed so that she was lying fully across the king sized mattress, all the while maintaining the connection between their lips. His weight was half on her, half on the bed; the sensation of their naked upper halves and entwined legs was delicious with skin on skin contact maximised fully. His hard member was rubbing up against her wet lace panties, thrusting with vigour, the lace all that was separating them from the penultimate union.

His lips finally embarked upon their journey down south, his body shimming around to lie on the bed in the opposite direction. His thumbs hooked onto the top band of her panties, finally peeling them away, her legs lifting into the air to allow the scrap of lace to be discarded onto his carpet. He subconsciously ran his tongue across his lower lip, drinking in the sight of her most intimate area, a tuft of dark landing strip hair. Her hand languidly reached out to grasp onto his length, stroking carefully, aware of the need to maintain his arousal without tipping him over the edge. Gabriella suspected she wouldn't be capable of inflicting any sort of superior pleasure upon him, for as his hands gently pushed her thighs apart to reveal her fully, as his lips came down to press a soft kiss and then lick at her folds – she was already writhing, already losing the capability to have any sort of coherent thought process.

"Holy... oh shit... Troy..." she gasped. "I... need..."

He glanced up, blowing against her sensitive bundle of nerves and then trailing his tongue around the circumference. Her face was a mix of pleasure and pain – both as a result of anticipation.

"What do you need?" he murmured, using his finger to circle around her entrance at the exact same pace as his tongue then traced around her bud once more.

"Stop... teasing..." she moaned, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"Say please..." he requested, blatantly ignoring her request.

"Troyyyyy," she moaned.

"Mmm... close enough."

She let out a strangled cry as he simultaneously slipped his index and middle fingers within her depths and began to flick his tongue across her bud. She literally could not recall another time in her life when she'd been this aroused; hours of anticipation leading to this moment where finally, the man was touching her, tasting her, pleasing her; her body was writhing in ecstasy which not only met but surpassed the expectations she'd built up.

It wasn't long before she was on the brink of climax, her ragged, panted warning to Troy to stop was blatantly ignored. He continued, his fingers curling and stroking with a little more force, his tongue lapping with direct precision and contact upon her bud.

Very few times in her life had Gabriella experienced climax as a result of oral sex. It was a step on the journey for her ex boyfriends the majority of the time, something they would perform and then desist from in order to move onto the big finale. Never in her life had Gabriella cried out as loudly as she did, never had she been so overwhelmed by sensation and unadulterated ecstasy; hips writhing, body thrashing, a mess of garbed cries and moans and pants.

"Troy... oh shit... Troy... oh my God..."

He continued with his actions, his free hand attempting to keep her somewhat stilted, allowing him to continue thrusting his fingers within her pulsating cavern, teasing her engorged bud. She began to come down a little from her climax, but his continued teasing taking her to a plateau rather than a decline. She began to stroke at his length with a little more force, having pretty much desisted from the action throughout the throes of her peak. She used her thumb to spread the pre-ejaculate, providing some lubricant which caused him to harden further. Just as she began to tremble once more, her arousal having built up even quicker than the previous time, he thwarted his teasing tongue and retracted his fingers. She whimpered at the loss of his touch but as his body flipped around, it became evident that the few seconds of separation were to be worthwhile.

He reached down to the built in drawer beneath his bed; a storage solution perfect for the bachelor in a tight space, fingers retrieving a condom from his stash which typically would make his way from the drawer to his wallet. He tore open the packaging with his teeth and made quick work of sheathing his erection with the rubber. He pushed her thighs apart, legs splaying wide across the bed, and knelt in front of her.

A prolonged cry of pleasure mixed with a drawn out grunt filled the studio apartment as his length slid into her slippery cavern. She was warm, wet, tight and Troy was actively controlling the teenage boy within who was just about ready to shoot his load prematurely. Gabriella had been brought to the point of maximum arousal, her orgasm had left her craving more and craving the feel of being filled. He thrust into her slowly at first, his thumb languorously circling her clit. Positions shifted as he leaned forward, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him down to be sheathed completely within her depths. Lips met in lazy, languid kisses; hips thrust in a dance which was new and fresh and yet for some reason, felt oddly right, as though this was where each of them belonged – together, united, as one.

"Troy... oh my God... I'm gonna... so close... fuck!" Gabriella swore among ragged pants and mewls. "Need you... harder..."

All he could do was comply, shifting his weight slightly back to allow himself the room to thrust with more force, more direction, more purposeful penetration.

"Right there... oh my God... Troyyy," she moaned, one hand clutching at his shoulder and the other at the bedspread beneath her.

The room was electric as her orgasm arrived, even more powerful than the one before. He continued to thrust, the waves of pleasure continuing to roll and moments later his own climax arrived, her moans and pants and mewls being met by his groans and grunts and expletives.

She felt a pang of want, of longing, once he retracted himself from within her depths. She wasn't sure where he discarded the condom to but she didn't particularly care. She was struggling to regulate her breathing, struggling to regain some sort of ability to speak or move or think.

They were still for a long time, hands slowly caressing at each other's bodies, lips meeting in the occasional kiss.

"Holy shit... that was... oh my..." Gabriella couldn't finish her sentence, her eyes wide, overcome with sensation and desire and adoration for this Adonis of a man who had brought her pleasure she hadn't realised existed.

"And you know what, Gabriella?" Troy murmured by her ear, his breath tickling against her cheek.

"Mmm?"

"That was only round one."

Her eyes widened as he reached out for her hand, bringing it over to touch his length. He wasn't completely hard but he wasn't completely flaccid either. He flipped her over onto her back, a squeal emitting from her lips before his weight came to rest securely on top of her. Round two had officially begun.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Hours later and Gabriella had lost count of her orgasms. She'd lost awareness of everything that wasn't her and Troy. The room reeked of sex, in a good way. She didn't recall the light switches being turned off, she didn't recall at what point they'd gotten underneath his comforter. All she knew was that she was snuggled within the arms of the most incredible man she'd ever encountered and that her body was feeling completely and utterly satiated.

"Thank you," she murmured, her lips pressing to his lazily.

"Thank you," he returned, his fingers raking through her hair.

He watched as he wriggled slightly making herself comfortable upon his pillow, pulling the comforter to encase her a little tighter.

One of the advantages to always going to the woman's place was that Troy was able to make his escape with ease. To cuddle and nap for a couple of hours and then slink off into the night, leaving a note of gratitude about not wanting to wake her up but he has an early appointment, and failing to leave a phone number. The instincts he'd built up over the years told him to get rid of her; this was his apartment and he needed her to leave immediately. However as this naked Goddess nestled into his form, her satiated body was still and he could hear the steady rhythm of her contented breathing as she was on her way to the land of peace and dreams. Not only was he feeling incapable of being so cruel as to kick her out – but he didn't really want to. He liked the way her slender body fit perfectly within his arms; he liked the feel of her warm, smooth skin pressed up against him.

And so instead of detaching himself and shaking her awake, he found himself settling down, and curling his arm protectively around her middle.

He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Good night beautiful," he murmured quietly.

Her reply was faint, but audible. "Night Troy."

~.~

S is for the simple need

E is for the ecstasy

X is just to mark the spot coz that's the one you really want

S.E.X. by Nickelback