Food wasn’t the only thing Bridget was starving for. Turned out Francis was right; she was horny that morning but felt hostility. Well, there wouldn’t have been hostility if she had given him some release, so that was a nice catch-22 she put herself in. But he did get release, as she did. The two snuggled, reeking of desire, and slept until the witch’s alarm went off... Only to add another layer of lust.
She sighed, collapsing onto his chest, covering it in kisses. Her hand pressed his member against her rump, still leaking down it, still coaxing the smallest of dribbles to run along her crack. Her back was coated thrice, shimmering with a glaze from the last of day’s light, but it was her eyes that glittered the most. And the brightest.
“Francis,” she mumbled, breathless, and her lips met his again. She tried to moan but could only elicit a whimper, lapping at them as she pulled off. “I love you so much.”
“A little too early to be slinging that word around,” he grumbled.
“But I mean it... Every time we do something like this, it feels like the first time.” Because it was the first time. She giggled, rubbing his face with her cleaner hand, beaming at him. “I know I’m a bit too forward at times-”
“A bit? At times!”
“I’m serious, though. When I’m with you, I feel... complete. No other guy has ever made me feel that way.”
“Considering the staggering lofts of ONE guy, I can see you are drawing from a lifetime of experience.” He clapped her rear with both of his hands, making her squeak. “Just so its clear, I respect your feelings, but I do not feel anywhere near as close. Yet.”
“Oh, I know, and that’s okay. I’m a hopeless romantic; it can’t be helped... I’ll wait forever for you.”
Sadly, I know you can, he thought, and yawned- giving her rump another clap. She shuddered under his palms, and he felt those lips puff on his rod, heating up again.
“You really shouldn’t do that,” she said, drawing it out. Her breath was hot on his neck, on his chin, her lips trailing up them and back on his. “We’re going to... be running behind... as-is.”
“It’s not. That. Big. A d- deal. It’s e...ssentially re-phew- week in Johnny’s- okay. You need t- mph... settle. Down.”
“I can’t help. It. You got me FIRED UP AGAIN.”
She squalled the last part, lost to a wailing moan as her folds squelched on his rod. Her thighs shuddered, her cheeks redder than her hair if not purpling after that last strike. The room echoed with its thunder, returning and bounding off his twitching mast. A lightning rod in its own right.
She finally took a breath, and looked at him with a haughty gaze.
“I need you in me so bad... But we can’t right now. It’s around that time of the month. Really, I’m surprised I haven’t bled on you again.”
“Eh. Wouldn’t be the first time. I’ve earned my red wings long ago.”
“The thought it is still disgusting... but glad to know you aren’t against it.” She tittered, chuckled, a throaty thing, and kissed him before finally rising... and grimacing at her thighs. “Looks like I spoke too soon. I’m sorry.”
“Make me breakfast and we’ll call it even... I, also, plan to see Beatrice for lunch to discuss the job. She still seems incredibly eager, so... think my chances are good.”
“But this means our time in the evenings is going to be taken away...”
Oh no. Whatever shall I do?
He sighed, and stood as well. His member prodded into her belly, making her jump back a bit. She realized what it was, though, and grabbed hold again, teasing it.
“We really shouldn’t leave you like this, though,” she said, twisting the end lightly before clasping it and stroking down. It was slow, lavishing every inch, squeezing it harder until the base, feeling his heart throb through it. “You really do have a nice cock. I’m a bit relieved this part isn’t more... draconic.”
“What would that even look like? Would it be, like, a sharp barb out at the tip while smaller ones grip and hold-”
“I’d rather not think about that. I’m having a hard enough time wondering how this monster is going to fit inside me.” She hummed, and lead him to the shower. She turned the water on, and pulled off the shower head, kneeling before his. She washed the blood away, still stroking it, and her lips and tongue joined in as well, panting against. “Will you hold this for me?”
He took the shower head, and she took his member with both hands, working to the head and back down. That tip, though, was hidden in her mouth... but... slowly, she let go with the left hand, the hand working the upper part, replaced with her mouth. She got one, two inches down before she needed to pull back only to try again. One, two... three- she gagged and pulled back, coughing.
“Take it easy,” he said, washing off her chest. Her dusky red nips were hard as stone between his fingers, and giving them a twist only seemed to spur her on. She caught her breath, and once more his tip disappeared into her mouth. One, two, three... four... five- five was her limit. Even then he felt her hiccup as she pulled back. Only to lower back on it. Though he said she shouldn’t, as she found her rhythm, he realized how foolish that really was.
His head lulled back. His hips shuddered, wanting to thrust inside so much, but he was blessed to have her at five. He didn’t want to push it... yet... Instead, he continued to tease her breasts, raising them to drag along his member only to flop back down.
She popped off for breath, her free hand returning, taking over as she lapped at the head.
“You have such a pleasant face on, darling,” she said, and sucked on the head a moment, letting her tongue swirl around it thrice before popping off again. “I want to see that face all the time.”
She giggled, and it and the moan that came after rumbled on his member. The witch slurped so much on his member- and broke through five! She was hitting six- seven! Her other hand still gripped the base, still teased the remainder, but the rest simply... disappeared in her throat. Her free hand now had a new task, fondling and playing with his orbs as she gulped and gasped and mewled on his rod.
He was reaching his peak through, and he could feel that sack tighten. Her throat suddenly became VERY small, and she needed to back out to three. She didn’t stop stroking, though, working where it was missing, and, with one, hissing gasp, he unloaded into her mouth. He held her head there, clawing at it, forcing her even as every shot made her cough and gag... but she didn’t throw up. She held strong... and, by the tenth, hard shot, he let her go. His mast, once so stiff, fell out of her mouth, drooping, withering away.
Throughout it all, though, she never broke eye-contact. They were bloodshot. Tears rolled down her cheeks, mingling with his release as it slipped out the sides, now all rolling down into the bloody mess spooling from her legs with abandon. She opened her mouth, showed him the fruits of her labor... then swallowed it. It took her three hard gulps, but she got it all down- before sucking on his tip again.
“H-hey!” He yelped, and eased her back. “Buffet’s closed now. N-no-no m- no more!”
“But I need to see that face,” she whined.
“You will, but, again, school-”
She whined again, but clambered to her feet. It took her several attempts, but, at last, she managed to at least stand. For a few seconds. She fell into his chest- and she thought the face he was making was addictive to see. The pure... true bliss on her face; he never saw any woman so happy after giving head.
But, once again, he set himself up for a boring day. He did leave with Penny that morning, which Bridget didn’t seem to mind. She got what she wanted, after all, and she showed her “appreciation” by making an extravagant breakfast. So extravagant, in fact, he didn’t order a thing from the fast food Plank took him through. He had no room.
Class was, once again, text time –which Beatrice was a busy biddy that morning. She was already orienting him about the job, sending him pictures, of stock, what to look out for when monitoring the dungeon, how to deescalate situations, and, most importantly, how to tell when someone is scoping out the snack bar. She showed him great examples, herself, as she took from it, performing what people might do, what they are capable of... Or she was just hungry. He’ll go with... yes.
He still had no idea who she was, and that was after fishing for information. He left “bread crumbs”, things only specific people in mind would know... The problem was she was as smart as she was blunt. She didn’t give vague answers, and, if she didn’t know, she let him know that she didn’t. Out of seventy-eight checks, not a single one filtered out who it might be. Only who it wasn’t: Any of them.
This “girl” claimed he knew her, that they met and interacted several times, but it wasn’t adding up. He even sat downstairs when he arrived, dawdled as long as he could, lying about still being at home and running late.
No you’re not, she sent, taking the bait. You’re in the left resting hall. Third couch, all the way to the right. You are wearing one of those new outfits that wretch got you.
Interesting, he thought, sending his reply. Don’t like Bridget?
I absolutely cannot stand her. She is far too clingy, too controlling. You don’t need someone like that... or... maybe you do.
What can I say? I’ve always been attracted to strong-personality women. It’s ironic, isn’t it? Someone as big as me, as strong as I am, likes to be dominated.
Not at all. In fact, it all makes sense now. I bet you were hard after your tumble with Mordred in the hallway.
Now there’s a nice piece of info. She must be in one of the classes down that hall.
I bet your teacher just loved to be interrupted by that.
Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t really pay them any mind.
And I bet they just love that kind of attitude.
Like I said. I don’t care... Still going to lunch with Desiree today?
How did you know that?
She didn’t keep it a secret. It was never a secret to begin with.
It’s a two-fer, in truth. I’m also getting my paperwork done so I can begin working for Beatrice.
What do you mean?
She’s been wanting you to gawk at for the last few months. Can’t say I blame her.
I mean, if you want to pay instead...
She didn’t send a reply to that. Not even when he went with Desiree to The Chalice. Beatrice sent Wesley to grab a pizza from the diner while she coached Francis through the yellow tape... and he balanced a hand against Desiree. He had done a smart that morning and left his metal suitcase with Wes at the front of the store, so all he had to do was walk in. Which even that was sort of a challenge; Desiree was having too much fun trying to tease him along the way. Sadly for her, though, Bridget gave the GOOD suck. He didn’t have a single wiggle down there all day –nor even now as her tail kept flicking it.
“And... GILF wins me the day,” Francis said, swinging with his black granny –the mana color, of course. He signed the last paper at the same time, and handed the pen back to Beatrice, cracking his knuckles- not his best idea. It had been ages since they saw any love, and they voiced their complaints quite loudly. The way they crackled off, one could have sworn he set off fire crackers instead... or broke them off. They felt that way. “Goddamn!”
“That didn’t sound good,” Beatrice stated. “Do I need to have you sign a medical form as well?”
“If it’s for testing to see what kind of diseases I have, I... wouldn’t recommend it.” He cleared his throat, resting his hands on the table a minute before collecting his cards, shuffling them back in. “Again, I’m immune but I can be a carrier... Most likely I don’t have anything, though.”
“Really? Even with the life you lived?”
“Contrary to popular belief, STD’s aren’t a commonality in the gangbanger lifestyle. In fact, most pimps want nothing to do with disease-ridden hos. Most are tested every week or so and, if any test positive... well... let’s say they don’t have a pleasant send off.” He shuffled his cards, and patted them down on the table, smirking at the lamia across. “Well? Ready for round five?”
“Always,” she said, tittering... but sighed. “We should be packing up, though. We need to go back to class-”
“Which you start in two weeks, Francis,” Beatrice cut in, waving his manila folder. “That’s how long it’ll take to send these out to authenticate and get you in the system. You’ll start out on part-time, 9AM to 1 PM every day Monday-through-Friday and 9 AM to 12 PM on Saturday. Your wage is what we discussed and, after six months, you’ll receive a raise and be bumped up to full time. 9 AM to 4 PM Monday-through-Friday and 10 AM to 3 PM on Saturday. You’ll, also, receive your lunch and two-fifteen minute breaks then, as well as all the insurance benefits-”
“They stack with the school’s, right?”
“No,” Wesley said, finally back with the pizza. How dare he not be back sooner with that slab. It wasn’t as big as the one Lilith brought him that one time, but it was still a sight to behold regardless. He opened the box- and filched a slice before anyone else. “Take it from someone else she conned into it: Though it draws from your account, since Vereor Nox offers a better premium, it tallies only that when in the E.R. You made sure to put down zero for your dependents, right?”
“... Let me see that paper-” Francis began, but felt... off. The hair on his neck stood up, and there was a soft buzzing in his ear.
“Francis?” Beatrice said, snapping her fingers before his eyes. “Hello... Francis?”
“Sorry, what?” He said, shaking his head. He looked behind him, but there was no one there... though he could have sworn there was. That feeling... he had it before. But what was i- and he was getting off-track again. He shook his head harder, letting his neck cry out, and found the tax form before him. Along with a dab of white-out on where he put 1 in the defendant. He waited for it to dry and slapped a big ole 0 in its place, handing it back. “There! Thanks for catching that, Wes.”
“Meh. Most people put 1 by instinct. Don’t realize its more efficient in the end to not even consider yourself.”
“True that, and even then I’m not exactly dependent on anything.”
“The perks of being Eve’s ‘son’, huh?” Beatrice said, winking at him. And that was that. They ate their pizza, returned to the humdrum of school (where she asked him out for lunch the next day as well), and wrapped up the day-
Only for him to remember Nicole was due there that night... Didn’t Ezra say her home was always open? He walked passed his door, and, gently, ever so gently, hammered the hell out of the centaur’s. He let it ring, like the freedom bell it was, his get out of jail card, till, like the Liberty Bell, there was a nice, long crack through.
And Ezra walked up the stairs.
She cocked her brow as she drew close, seeing him standing there with a big old smile... then glowered at the crack in her door.
“Really?” She said. Flat, but not irritated. She seemed too tired to be irritated, sighing-then-yawning as she fished her keys out of her satchel and opened her door. She waved for him to go in- which he did so. Happily. He rushed in and dove onto one of her over-sized beanbag chairs, holding it so dearly. “Make yourself at home.”
“Already did,” he said, muffled by the tiny beads inside. “Your offer is still good, right?”
“Offer? Wha... oh! THAT offer... She’s over today?”
“She is. Every Wednesday.”
“She comes early. And leaves late... but cums early, and leaves late.”
“Why did you repeat yourself?”
“I didn’t...Oh God I didn’t... So how was your day?”
“Meh. Would have been better if you or Dix were free, but you were sort of snared by snek and boid while my dear oinker couldn’t stand being even one more day away from her schlubs.” She yawned again, settling into the bean bag across... and reached under it, pulling out a bottle of rum. She popped the cork out, and drank straight out of the bottle, shuddering as she sucked on her teeth. “WHOOF! After a long day, really nice to come home to that... Want some?”
“Sure. It’s been a while.” He tipped the bottle and welcomed the amber drink- immediately going to his head. He gagged, wheezed, and almost threw that bottle aside, looking at it as if it had slapped him right in the balls. “GODDAMN! What the hell? How str- 190-proof!”
“Yeah... Centaurs have strong livers. And a stronger tolerance.” She took the bottle back, taking another, hard drink, and coughed as she put the cork back in, settling it under the bean bag once more. “But I’m not aiming to get drunk. Only to get the blood flowing.”
“That’ll do it! Pfoo... I thought Ryan was bad. He’d dilute rubbing alcohol and drink it with a bit of lemon juice.”
“Ew all you want, but at the time it was all we could afford... It was a rough year for the crew.”
“About that... You told me you killed your father and that’s what lead you to living on the streets... Have you been gang-banging most of your life?”
“What’s it like? Do you, like, sit in a derelict building all the time surrounded by meth labs and naked women?”
“... No. Nothing that... I’m not even sure what to call that... We had basic apartments. We lived normal lives for the most part. Some of us you couldn’t even tell were a part of a gang, but we were all bonded to the fam.”
“Yes, but did shit ever hit the fan? Were there turf wars? Did you do drive-bys?”
“Sadly no for that last one, which always pissed me off. I always wanted to be THAT guy and lean out the window and hold your gun all gangster style then, when out, jump and land on the other car... but no. None of that happened... There were turf wars, but they were... shall we say, ‘clean’.”
“Clean? Turf wars are clean?”
“In a manner of speaking... We don’t exactly want to get caught. No one does in that situation, so there are actual guidelines, rules of engagement. And that’s only after diplomacy fails.”
“Diplomacy? Between gang-bangers?”
“Again, your assumptions.”
“All I have to work with is Hollywood and the TV, okay? Yet, here you are, making it almost sound... mundane. As if it’s another world inside the world we are in –which, granted, as himan we are already in a similar situation, but still.”
“Now that you mention it, it feels like I have lived a life inside a life inside a life... inside a life. Like... Holy crap. I had more lives than a little red plumber.”
They both chuckled, and Ezra sifted under the bean bag again... groaning.
“It’s under yours,” she said... and rolled her wrist at him. “Yo!”
“Dig under yours for the TV remote.”
“Fine. Fine.” He grumbled as he reached under, feeling the little beads give way for his pervading hand... But... while he was here... “Say, do you know any of the other teachers? Specifically any that work down the hall with Professor Brimst?”
“I do not. Really, if I don’t have to interact with them, I keep my head down.”
“That’s a wonderful attitude to have.”
“Isn’t it, though? It’s what we have in common... If only that was the only thing we had in common.”
“Oh yeah? What else?”
“Our sense of humor for starters. We tend to both be smartasses. Our personalities are very similar as well. Only difference there is you have had reason to use your anger. I haven’t.”
“Nonsense! There was the time I rode your mom, remember? You had ever right to beat my head in.”
“More like her head. We tried to warn her, but she pushed you. Even then, you saved her. So... Wouldn’t feel right... Find it yet?”
“I’m still digging. Haven’t felt it yet-”
“Then hold on.”
She stood, lumbered over-
And lifted him and the bean bag.
She held him before her chest, the poor, thick, faded blue material being dug in so had by her tips that day- thankfully forgotten as she placed him back down.
“It’s by your right leg,” she said, and plopped onto hers again... He got it, handed it over, and she winked. “There we go. Thankies.”
“You’re w... you are stronger than you look. You’re a centaur, but still!”
“Nah! You’re just light... But yeah. We have a lot in common. More than you do with Dix... No. She actually has as much in common with you, but only if she would come out of her shell... Starting to really piss me off.”
“But I haven’t done anything.”
“Not you. Her... It’s... It’s like watching a game of ping pong. She gets a bit out, shows herself- only to be afraid of what she has and pulls back- only to launch into another. Again and again and again and again... I have told her on MULTIPLE occasions to not worry. You’re not, so why should she? But no... she’s afraid to let her true self fully go with you.”
“Yeah, but she’s cute about it. Unlike Cassidy-”
“Oh, don’t get me started on her. She’s... let’s say ECSTATIC for this weekend.”
“It is our third date-”
“And the things she told her hysteric she’s planning to do to you... I don’t think most of it will happen. It was big talk for a virgin, but her main plan is, ‘to rock your world’.”
“That’s a big world to rock. Let’s see if she lives up to it.”
She huffed, but both settled into watching B-movies from yesteryear. Simply chilling, watching movies, small talk; this is what he wanted for a first date. This was the epitome of bonding, yet everyone said it wasn’t enough... In truth, it was more than enough. But where were the alarms with Ezra? Who was going to stop this?
Fuck ’em all. Of all the ‘dates’, this one is the best, he thought, and yawned, getting nice and cozy in that giant beanbag... and chanced glances over at his host –whom he caught doing the same.