The room was dark and hazy. A drink in my hand and a joint in the other. My mind is comfortable and as I take a drag, I feel her straddle my lap. Her long blonde hair is up, but it still dangles past her waist, tickling me as she leant in. Long strong arms press into the couch behind me, and I was more than a little concerned for myself. We both knew she was the one in charge here.
I felt massively underdressed, sprawled on my couch, in nothing but boxers, t-shirt, and bathrobe. Chloe, by contrast, looked like some kind of goddess in a pilot’s jacket. The fabric crinkled against my face and I was trapped beneath her, this woman who was tiny, but could snap me in half.
She leaned in, her lips ghosting along my jawline, her good eye watching me like a hawk. Even when she was giving a lapdance, Chloe didn’t relax. Biting my earlobe, I shivered a little under her. Feeling her grin, she let go and let her chapped lips drag down my neck before she pulled away.
“Shh, mi jugete,” She said, twining one hand into my thick curls, pulling my head to one side. “You don’t get to talk to me until I say so,” and all I could do was nod ever so slightly. “Good boy. Now, may I?” She asked, nodding her head towards the blunt, and I more than happily obliged.
Taking a long drag, Chloe shifted to take the glass of amber liquid out of my hand. Blowing the smoke into my face, she got up from the couch, glass in hand, and I watch her walk away. Were I a more religious man, I’d make a shrine to that ass, and she knows it. “Stay,” she commands and walks away.
Walking back in, sans the glass, Chloe settles the rest of the way into my lap and let one hand trail down my chest, slipping it to my waistband, her hips rocking. Brushing her lips against mine, she teases them away just as I lean forward. She grinds against me hard through the fabric of our jeans, friction driving us both mad, as she keeps teasing away kisses. I struggle to keep my hands where they are, sprawled along the top of the back cushion, away from her. Just the way she likes it.
Finally, she kisses me, nails digging into my head, and her other hand slipping under the waistband of my boxers. I let her tongue in, and she pushes me into the couch before suddenly pulling away, my lower lip in her teeth.
“Get up.” She orders, pulling me with her, one hand in my hair, the other on my dick, harshly reminding me who the bitch was. Once we’re both standing, she steers so that I’m the one going backward as she kisses me again. I have no idea how she knows where the bedroom is. My arms reach out behind me to try and stop us from running into a corner, and I hear her laugh into the kiss.
“You don’t trust the one-eyed girl’s direction?” She says as we walk into the slightly closed door of my bedroom. “I’m hurt.” And she shoves me back towards the bed. I sit on the edge, dumbfounded a little, watching her as she starts to strip. First the jacket comes off, revealing a tank top, and she starts on the zipper of her skinny jeans as her hips sway. “Get comfortable, pretty boy.” She says her arms covered in scars and stripes. Even mostly naked, her jeans kicked off in a pile on my floor, she looks like a tiger. All muscle and angles, she is unforgiving, and her gaze makes me feel like I’m burning up. She climbs on top of me and pushes me back with a kiss.
Pinning me down, she starts to shift her hips up my body, and she’s holding my shoulders down with her knees when a loud noise suddenly startles me.
“God fucking DAMMIT, Chi chi!” I yell, and the dream is lost. “Aw fuck.”
I’m back on the couch, it’s the middle of the day, and I’ve missed most of my soaps. Fuck. Putting aside my now long dead joint, I go to take care of the mess in my boxers. Gotta stop mixing my shit together. My head hurts, and I sigh.
“I know the feeling, buddy. Maybe next time.”