(mf) Lisa

I saw the flicker in her eyes, that familiar, playful smile. That one second of give, when her defences fell and I knew that she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. It’d been months – months – since we’d seen each other. My hands were in her hair before she could stop me, and Lisa didn’t even resist – she leapt up, wrapped her lean, strong legs around my waist. The wall found her back and I found her under me again. Her perfume filled my nose, and as I caught her to stop her from slipping, I felt a soft moan slip from her mouth. Her lips were soft, warm, inviting, and I lost myself in them for a moment. She was already grinding against me. Stronger than before, more insistent. This girl had been hitting the gym since I’d last seen her… I felt her bite my lip, none too gently, and I hissed. That feline smile flitted over her face, and Lisa caught my belt, tried to pull at it. Useless. I dropped her to the ground, tore the belt free, then watched her saucily slip a shoulder out of her silky, tight gown. No bra, just a firm, irresistible breast… but as I reached for her, she slapped my hand out of the way and grabbed my jacket lapels, and bit my neck. Sank her teeth into my flesh with just the right amount of pressure to make me snarl like an animal.

“Fuck me!”

“Oh, I plan to, honey,” she murmured back, into my chest.

Then, with an almighty shove, she sent me right toward the bed. I let myself go, tried to work myself out of my jacket before I hit it. No luck. I hit the corner of the bed, bounced off, hit the ground all tangled. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Lisa knew she had every inch of my attention. Slowly, easily, she eased her feet out of her heels, and then reached behind her. One smooth, classy movement, and my ex-girlfriend had removed her gown. Gorgeous red panties hid all of her from me, but I was too busy staring at her. She’d never been this powerful. Lean, muscular, more like a predatory cat than the sly little fox I’d known for years. Her caramel-hinted skin practically glowed in the low light, and she smiled, touching a finger to her lips, gently licking the tip. Titillating me. Goddamn it she was such a fucking tease… I scrambled up, yanked off my jacket. Slid out of my shoes easily enough. Got through three buttons of my shirt, then decided to rip the thing over my head. Then she was on me. Tackling me into the covers, her bare skin silk against mine. I could feel just a hint of moisture. She ground on me, hands on my shoulders, eyes boring into mine. Her hair, longer than before, tickling my cheek. All I could do was stare up at her and keep myself in check.

“You’ve been working out?”

“Me?” I said incredulously. “You get possessed by another goddess while I was away?”

She leaned down, ran her hips across me for an especially long stroke. “Poetic, honey.”

I heard the sarcasm in her tone. “You sure…?”

“Talk dirty to me, Charlie. Get me fucking wet…”

My fingers found her ass before she could even finish her sentence. Lisa flinched, looked down at me, that wonderfully manic aroused smile on her face. And I ground her on me. Long, fast strokes, using just the friction of my trousers and her panties to please her. She was moaning, already, small little jumpy sounds when she found an especially good spot. Then I realised I wasn’t saying anything. I was already so close. Just the proximity, the sheer scent of her, was making me hornier than I’d been in months.

“Want me?”

She bit my neck and make me hiss again. “Do better. You’re a… mmmhmm… writer, for fuck’s sake. What the fuck do they fucking pay you for?”

Christ, she could make profanity sound like honey from that tongue.

“Go harder, or I’ll hurt you,” I snarled at her, pitching my voice lower.

One of her hands found my throat and I almost came then and there. She laughed triumphantly at me, still grinding me in those expensive, thin, wet panties of hers… I’d had fucking enough. To hell with the subtlety, the slow burn. She wanted me, right now, and I was going to give her what she wanted. I caught her wrist, twisted, forced her down onto the covers. She just laughed, dug her nails into my back. Dragged them down, sent a bolt of icy lightning down my spine. I tore off my trousers, heard something crackle in the material. I tossed my boxers straight down after them, and then rolled straight over my shoulder, colliding with her. Lisa yelped as I caught her around the neck. I eased the pressure off instantly, and then grabbed her firm, round ass again. She moaned, smiled, wriggled it a little for me. I caught the elastic, tore them down over her. Lisa didn’t move – she just slid her legs closed and looked over her shoulder at me. Her back, bare, smooth, silky, looked so inviting… to say nothing of her ass, her thighs, even the firm calves that rippled down from her knees.

“Say please,” she teased.

I slapped her ass, none too gently, and she growled like a cat, but didn’t move. So I propped myself up on my knees and slid myself straight between her thighs. Not right into her, not yet, but just let her feel me. Rock-hard, straining, fucking desperate… I slapped her ass again, harder, then ran my fingers down her back, roughly. Her whole spine arched, that way that I loved, and finally, she slid her knees apart. She was soaking wet – I slid right into her, and felt her whole body buckle. A deep, animalistic moan slid straight out of her, and I reached over her leg, going straight for her favourite place to touch herself. Lisa was tight, and warm, and wet, and there wasn’t anything else like the feel of her skin. I started pumping, and rubbing her. Side to side, just the way she fucking liked it. And I talked to her. I leaned over her back and spoke right into her ear, filling her head with all kinds of dirty, violent, venomous words that she loved.

“You don’t get to fucking keep me out, you hear?”

Lisa just moaned, nodded, her body already shuddering.

“Like it, you horny little vixen?”

“Mmmm…” she couldn’t talk, just moan.

Her hands curled in the covers, she tried to cut off her sounds in the pillow. No. I wanted her to moan loud. I wanted to her howl her desire for me. I wanted to make the whole room ring with those silky, bell-like tones of hers. I caught her shoulder, pulled her away from the pillow, and heard her beg me for something, through the moans.

“You want to touch yourself?”

She nodded.

“Then fucking moan it.”

“I want it.”

“Then go. Me fucking you’s not enough?”

She just moaned, and I dragged my fingers down her back again. Her whole body started to buck, and I could feel her, shaking harder and harder. It was taking every square inch of mental willpower not to finish first – it was just a race, now, to see who would come first. And if there was one rule I had with Lisa – it was that she did… I felt her shudder, spasm, and then snarl a curse into the bedspread with such ferocity that I couldn’t help but jolt back, a little. I pulled out of her, and she collapsed to the covers, trembling from the effort. I grabbed the covers, yanked them out of the corner, and pulled them over her. Still trying not to explode. I grinned a little at her panties, still around an ankle. Then she was wrapped in bed, snug, warm, and safe.

***

Thank God for cold showers and scotch. Ten minutes of ice water and burning alcohol, and I was just about turned off. The possibility of doing all of it again – just the thought – made my mouth dry, but Lisa looked dead to the world. So I padded over to the minibar again, dripping wet, entirely incapable of giving a fuck. The water was streaming off me, soaking into the carpet, but my insurance would cover it. I took the whole bottle this time, sat it on the sink. Braced myself against the freezing water, and then stepped in again. I heard a soft footstep and saw Lisa behind me. Panties were gone. Just unclothes, smooth and silky and celestial. She smiled at me, and I realised after a moment that I was dead wrong. She’d just been recovering. That seductive, arousing, piercing look was back on her face again, and she stepped into the shower. Instantly, she shrank against the wall of the huge shower, staring at me like I was insane.

“That’s fucking freezing!” she howled.

“Grab the scotch,” I told her.

“Better idea.” She stepped out, almost running.

“Hey, get it for…” But she was already gone.

Oh, yeah. The vodka. Fucking hell. This was about to get interesting. I stepped out, reaching out and grabbing the three-quarters full bottle of scotch. Then I spun and turned on the heat in the water. She wasn’t wrong, and I had a fairly good idea what she had in mind. Three of my favourite things on the planet, in four square metres of the most polished marble tiles I’d ever seen in my life. Lisa, spirits, and pounding hot water. I made sure it wasn’t too hot – needed to have a way to slow down, else I’d just fucking explode in two seconds – but then she was slinking back into the shower, shooting the stuff straight out of the bottle. Once upon a time, she’d been completely unable to go near cold water. That seemed the way. But she’d gag on straight vodka. It went straight down her smooth, silky throat, and something lower reminded me that it was still there. I stared at her for the longest moment, and then she set the bottle down on the tiles and sauntered past me. Not really. She brushed herself against me like a cat, letting me feel just how silky and wet she was. The crazy passionate shit was out of the way, now. Now we could take our time. So I took a swig of scotch, set the bottle down on the soak rack, and started pouring bodywash over her back. She rolled her shoulders, letting me see just how many hours she’d put into the gym. Corded, smooth, modelled muscles seemed to glide together effortlessly under her skin. Again, the predator feline sprang to mind. If it was even possible, Lisa had gotten sexier since I’d last seen her. I ran my hands over her shoulders, kneading at knots in muscles that weren’t there. Either she’d taken up jiu-jistu, and learned how to stretch, or she had one hell of a masseuse.

“You all right there?” she asked, over her shoulder.

I combed my fingers through her lustrous dark hair. “Look, there different ways to answer that.”

Lisa turned, batted her eyelashes playfully at me, and then leaned forwards, letting me feel myself brush against those smooth, warm cheeks of hers. Fucking hell, I was already hard again. Taken me ten minutes of pure alcohol and cold water to wind down, and now this…

“Whoop, someone’s a little tense,” Lisa teased. “Want a hand with that?”

I looked at her, and she just smiled, turning herself around and letting her hips roll elegantly with the movement. No. She wasn’t going down on me. I wasn’t going to let her do it… but I was a different story. With all of the speed and grace that a drunk writer could muster, I slid to the tiles on my knees, and then shoved her against the freezing tiles, spreading her legs. She caught my head for balance, eyes widening with surprise, and then I was between her powerful thighs, my tongue against her burning, warm pussy. She was wet – the water was coursing over her, of course. But that was nothing compared to what was flowing out of her. I had no idea how she was already this aroused, but a good part of me didn’t care that much. I ran my tongue over her and ate her out. Slowly, carefully, using my fingers so I didn’t burn her with the scotch that was still probably in my mouth. And then I felt it. The slight shudder. The way her fingertips dug into my skull, the way her legs shook. And then she was moaning. That low, pitched, gorgeous sound she made that drove me absolutely fucking insane. And then she was talking. A skill she’d picked up, apparently. Because she was talking, right then and there.

“Harder. C’mon, baby, a little harder.”

I felt myself chuckle and just went faster. Lisa moaned, then it turned into something deeper and more primal. It was the kind of sound that a being utterly beyond reason made. Someone taken past what they were used to. New territory. I licked a little longer, then slid a finger inside her and started to tickle her right where she liked it. Her fingers found my face and she pushed me away from her. I fell on my ass, looking up at her, half-slumped against the tiles, legs shaking, staring at me with a kind of intensity that I almost found scary. I scooped up the bottle of vodka beside me, offered it to her. She slid down the wall, took a couple of deep breaths, and then took a long pull from it. A slight grimace afterwards, but nothing horrifying. Lisa had turned into a pro drinker when I’d been away. And shit, I was watching her drink it neat – naked, in a shower. Christ, how much better could my luck get?
Lisa got up – a little unsteady – and rinsed herself off. White foam coursed over her chest, slid over her legs, her shaved pussy, down her knees and to her ankles. Then she moved over me, put her hands on my shoulders, and pressed my back into the floor. I looked up at her, and as she slid herself over me, I found the tension almost unbearable. She was so incredibly wet… each stroke, teasing, trying to make me come before she could finish. The mind games. But no. She always fucking came first, not me. I slid out from under her – the pounding, steaming water helped with that, and then scooted her towards the door.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice tilting a little girlish.

I got to my feet, caught her under her arms, and then lifted her straight out of the shower, carried her bodily out of the bathroom. Then I set her down on the carpet, streaming wet, and touched her from behind. She moaned, shifted away a little, spun around on the carpet so she was facing me. Legs open, daring me to try and slide in. I snarled, tried to slip through. Lisa had been learning some new tricks. She slid past me, legs slick with the shower and half-removed soap, and tried to catch me in an armbar. Couldn’t get purchase. Then her hand was around me, and she was sliding her fingers over me, trying to jerk me off.

“Cheeky bitch,” I said, shoving her off, grinning.

She leaned back again, spreading her legs, teasing, watching my body, looking for what I was going to do. I feinted, and she slid to the wrong side. This time, I just caught around the waist from behind, and slid my hands right up to her chest.

“Mmmm… hello there,” Lisa murmured, a little British sliding into her tone.

Christ that was something… “Charlie, you need to come. Fuck me.”

“Not before you…” I tried to argue, but she reached under herself and found me with her hand.

“I don’t think you heard me properly,” she lilted, authority in her tone now. “Fuck me.”

That voice, that grip that she had on me? What was I going to do, ignore her? I took her from behind – again – and she moaned. This time, though, she was talking, not me. Somehow, she was taking it and moaning and yet still managing to turn me on even more, with every stroke.

“More. Deeper. Mmmhmm… c’mon honey, don’t play with me.”

I dug my fingers into her ass and went deeper. Lisa was so fucking wet, and tight. I was doing it again, slowing down, but she wasn’t having any of it. This time, she was pushing herself into me, actively fucking me, rather than the other way around.

“You remember how to come, right? Just let it go, honey…”

Christ, that accent… where had she stolen it from…?

“God, you’re hopeless.” She hooked my knees with her feet and then slid off me.

Next thing I knew, she’d rammed her ass into me and shot me onto my back, and she was mounting me, facing away from me. I slid my hands around her waist, and felt, rather than saw, her smile, before she found me with her hand and started to jerk me off again. Fucking hell…

“What are you doing?” I snarled.

“Come, honey. Fucking come already.”

“Not… before you…” I tried to say.

Then she was riding me. Pumping herself up and down off me, savagely. Fucking me. Properly, like she owned me, like I was her property and not an old flame that she’d run into before. I couldn’t – every logical part of my brain just gave in, let the pleasure cascade into my system. Muscle tightened, I bucked underneath her, and then felt the release. I came, just as she’d told me to, inside her. A second later, Lisa followed, flooding me with warm, musky wetness. Then she glanced over her shoulder at me, dark hair curtaining her face, save an eye and a flash of pearly teeth, stretched into a cheeky smile. Same smile that had brought me here, to this.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/82ttdx/mf_lisa

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