“You can tell your buddies you had a nice time,” she said, giving a little shrug.
Her robe was already half-off one sloping shoulder, revealing her porcelain skin, a stark contrast to her dark curls. Her hair seemed to be in its natural, if slightly disheveled, state. It tumbled over her other shoulder, thick and smelling vaguely of rosewater.
Steve cleared his throat, a fist to his lips. “Uh, I wouldn’t mind staying a while.”
She had seen the way Bucky and a couple of his gym pals had shoved Steve up the stairs of to her floor. Bucky had paid her, though Steve had begged him before to let the joke die. His best friend had been on his case for weeks – Steve had been too preoccupied with art school to go out on many double-dates with Bucky anymore. The dancehalls didn’t call to him, or the heaving crowds.
Bucky had tricked him, making him come out, under the pretense that dinner was on him. Steve relented, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to indulge Bucky occasionally, but now he was standing in this dame’s bedroom doorway, feeling like a dope. Everyone knew about this block, how the working girls all lived here.
“Yeah?” she murmured, a smile beginning to form. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Darcy,” she said, offering her hand.
He took it, feeling her skin was soft to the touch. She had a gap in her front teeth he noticed as her grin intensified. He felt his skin flushing, knowing she could see him turning pink.
Steve had no intention of telling a single soul, let alone Bucky, about what he experienced with Darcy in her cramped little apartment. Steve would never walk past this block without remembering her. He would never forget how she managed to undress him in seconds, so effortless in her sexuality but so dazzling.
His desire that simmered beneath his navel bubbled over the second they kissed, Darcy’s fingers catching his chin, their mouths slanting together. Her tongue was hot, her touch deliberate – Steve had never been kissed this way, it was always him kissing someone hard, trying to race forward and then pulling back out of fear of being out of control.
Darcy goaded him, her hand slipping down the front of his pants, wrapping around his shaft and tugging him toward her bed. He tried to not think of how she could see his ribcage, his clavicles and pasty skin all over. He tried to keep up with her, his hand skirting down her side to her hip and squeezing, liking how little give her shape had to her.
Her fingers dug in his hair and he was getting light-headed, moving back with a soft smack of their lips, panting into her mouth. She managed to lower them onto the mattress, climbing on top of him, her robe falling away.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, and there was that smile again, going straight to his cock that was straining in his pants.
He bit his lip, nodding, taking a few shaky breaths, eyes slipping to the ceiling. There was a crack in the paint, and he let his eyes flutter shut as Darcy’s lips brushed his again.
Steve waited, knowing she was crawling down him now, mouthing at his skin, Steve’s hands finding her hair, eyes snapping open when he felt her undo his fly. He stared at her glossy hair, trailing down his bare stomach. He remembered then something crucial.
“Uh, I haven’t—I haven’t given you any money…”
It seemed crass to him though she was reaching into his pants to pull out his cock, and he felt himself throb at her touch once more, his hips wanting to jerk. She looked up at him through her long lashes, her mouth hovering above the crown of him.
He was flushed, leaking with excitement all over her knuckles, her hand moving up and down at an agonizing pace. Darcy seemed to draw out this torture, her lips curling in a smile as Steve could feel himself rapidly unraveling… he couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t using his own hand to bring himself off…
It didn’t feel like Darcy was being used at all. She seemed to be taking control, her hand finally moving a little faster, managing to rip a groan from Steve in the process.
“Your friend paid me. Gave it to me in an envelope, very sweet…”
He bit back a whimper, but he was somehow not embarrassed, Darcy’s lips wrapping around him, taking him to the back of her throat. He could feel the flex of her as she took him further, her hand jerking him, Steve’s whole body tightening.
He drew in a breath, shuddering with pleasure as she sucked and bobbed up and down. He felt her other hand move down to cup his balls and he hissed in surprise.
She chuckled, pulling back and sighing, her eyes brighter with her cheeks glowing. She made a contented sound, moving back in for more, her eyes meeting his. There was a wickedness to her that Steve couldn’t ignore, he wanted to see her swallow him down, he wanted to see her get lost in the pleasure she gave him…
He wanted her badly then. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He thought if she sucked him he’d lose it and it’d be over, but he wanted her, he wanted to bury himself inside her.
“Darcy,” he said, after clearing his throat.
She moved back, his cock wet and glistening, her eyebrows lifting a little with curiosity.
“Get up here.”
He didn’t tend to talk to dames this way, bossing them around. He liked how quick she was to comply, smiling down at him as she climbed back up, her long hair curtaining them both. His hands moved up to hold her face, tugging her into another kiss, their chests pressing together.
He moaned, feeling her breasts pressing into him, her slip the only thing between them, her nipples hard and rubbing against the little hair he had on his front…
He gathered her hair in his fist and kissed her hard, sucking her tongue into his mouth, everything greedy, movements growing clumsy and rushed…
He panted, lying on his back, waiting as she peeled off of him, moving to grab a rubber from a drawer beside the bed. She rolled it on, Steve’s chest heaving as she threw her leg back over him, her smile contagious.
Her fingers glided down his face, her hips giving a roll, his cock brushing against her.
He nodded, light-headed, but not because of his asthma. He watched as she took hold of him, rubbing him intently against her warm folds. Steve was mesmerized, moaning a little louder, licking his lips.
She was so warm and tight, taking him to the hilt, her eyes fluttering. She was convincing enough for Steve, his fingers biting into her hips. Her robe was gone but she still wore her slip, her heavy tits half falling out. They bounced as she began to rock, and Steve heard her moan, his hands slipping up to cup her, rolling her breasts, brushing his thumbs over her nipples to harden them.
He watched her, and he wasn’t going to last long at all. He’d be embarrassed – hence why he suddenly moved up to kiss her, pushing her backwards until he lay on top of her, repositioning them to shove back inside her, Darcy’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed, and then she was laughing, seeming to enjoy it.
Steve was no fool – Darcy would never pretend otherwise. She was portraying the happy playmate. He appreciated it nonetheless, how she bounced and giggled, her face flushed as their bodies smacked together. He could hear it, the excitement between her thighs that were wrapped around his narrow middle. She leaned up for another kiss, Steve moving ever faster, Darcy punctuating each sharp thrust of his hips with little cries.
She’d begun to moan, her head thrown back, Steve’s hands wandering up and down her front, unable to keep still for too long. There was so much he wanted to do with her. He’d pay her more if it meant her letting him staying longer…
His mind began to drift, his balls tightening at the thought of her bent over-
“Fuck,” she gasped, as he quickly pushed the hood of her clit back with his thumb, before he began to rub it in quickening circles.
She began to tighten up, her eyes growing wider, and then she went still, her mouth falling open.
Hell of an actress, Steve thought, hearing her cry out a moment later.
She trembled underneath him, and then Steve felt his climax slam into him, his hips losing momentum as he spilled over…
His whimper was cut off by Darcy’s lips on his own, her arms wrapping around him to flatten him to her soft chest. They were panting together, sweat sticking to their skin. Steve was dizzy, and then he coughed, turning his head to do so in the sheet beneath them.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, and he pulled back to look her in the eye.
She seemed different. He blinked at her.
“Yeah, it’s just my asthma,” he said, hoping he didn’t seem self-conscious. He waited for her pitying simper, the sentiment he was used to from most women, old and young.
Instead, she smirked up at him.
“You fuck like that and you have asthma? Damn, Steve,” she murmured.
She began to giggle again and Steve stared at her.