Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 129

Up close, I could make out her eyes, dimly lit by the lanterns and submersible pool lights. They were deep wells of inky black, radiating heat and intent. Her head dipped just slightly.

Still, neither of us spoke.

Her lips—thick, soft, plush—hovered just over mine. I felt her breath on my face: alcohol and mint. She grazed my lips but didn’t kiss me.

Instead, she ran her bottom lip across mine, a whisper-light touch that traveled from one corner of my mouth to the other. Then she reversed course, tracing only my upper lip.

She stopped at the center… and gave me the softest kiss I’d ever felt. It was like clouds brushing mountaintops at sunrise.

Then she pressed just slightly, catching my lip between hers. I moaned into her mouth—what felt like a religious experience—and deepened the kiss, desperate for more.

My feet dropped beneath me as I stood, twisting so we were chest to chest. Her hand on my chest slid up and around my neck, joining the other as she wrapped her arms around me. Her fingers still played softly in my hair.

Our tongues found each other—slow and slick, tasting, teasing.

This time, both of us groaned.

What started as a soft, sensual rhythm quickly became firmer, hungrier. Her head tilted, nose brushing mine, lips parting wide as if she was trying to inhale me. I slid my tongue along the top of hers, dragged it against the roof of her mouth, and pulled back to suck on her upper lip. She suckled my bottom lip in return, and slowly we pulled apart.

She grinned at me, warm and inviting.

“Mmm,” she murmured, her gaze roaming my face like dark fire. “That was a welcome surprise.”

“Surprise?” I leaned into the crook of her neck, raking her skin lightly with my teeth. “You’re the one who came over here.” I kissed up the side of her neck, ending with a kiss to her earlobe. “I was minding my own business.”

“You’re not fucking me in here,” Rose said, a small purr rolling from her throat as her fingers curled in my hair.

The way she said it made it sound less like a boundary and more like a challenge.

“No,” I whispered against her ear. “I know. You’ve got something planned… doesn’t mean I can’t get a warm-up.”

She dropped one hand beneath the water, wrapping long fingers around the hard-on inside my swim trunks. She gave it a firm squeeze. Then let go.

“I’d say you’re plenty warm.” Her fingers lingered for just a second before she backed away, slipping out of my arms. “I’ve come to get you.”

“Lead the way,” I said.

She led me out of the pool, grabbed a towel from a chair, and tossed it to me.

I caught it, toweling off as I followed her toward the garden.

“Do I get to know the plan?”

“Patience,” Rose said, nudging me with her shoulder as she gave me a reproachful smile. “You’ll find out in literally two minutes.”

She led me through my house to the first floor. On the way, we found Dillon and Kelly passed out on the couch in the foyer/living room—her naked and lying on top of him with one arm draped to the floor, fingers loosely curled around the neck of an empty champagne bottle.

“So,” I said, “That’s happening.”

“Maybe,” Rose said. “Kelly is going to be a hard one to pin down. She says she’s not relationship material, but she won’t stop talking about that boy’s dick, so he might be able to tame the untamable.”

“Hope that works out,” I said as she led me out of the living room. “Dillon seems to like her. He’s a little goofy, but he’s a good guy. He deserves something nice.”

“And so do you,” Rose said, grinning at me as she stopped by an open doorway and leaned against it, folding her arms against her modest chest.

I peered inside, and my mouth went dry.

It was one of the common rooms that had been filled with distractions—a couple of pinball machines, a pool table, table tennis, foosball, a few MAME cabinets with old-style arcade games, and three couches forming a semicircle around a coffee table with several different styles of gaming controls under a massive, large-screen television.

On the middle couch sat Charity. Her long, jet-black hair was done in two twin tails that draped down the back of the upholstery. Dark eyeliner made her large eyes stand out, giving them a cat-like quality by emphasizing and sharpening the outer corners. A gentle blush had reddened her cheeks, and her lips were painted a matte black—her style reminding me of Erin’s.

She wore a matching black lace lingerie set—a bra that was just sheer enough for me to see a vague outline of the large areola that surrounded a slight swell at the center of each bra cup. A matching lace thong ran around her hips and over swollen outer lips, perfectly visible thanks to her spread legs. The fabric looked so flimsy that I could have easily torn it away, like tissue paper.

This was the most I’d ever seen of Charity, and she did not disappoint—she was a small, tight package, somewhere between Shea’s and Erin’s height, with a slender waist, and a set of large B-cup breasts that looked larger on her frame. Her skin was a dark cream, inherited from her Filipino ancestry—smooth and blemish-free aside from the occasional freckle.

Like Erin, she was also one of the few ladies in my life who had a prominent tattoo. I’d seen glimpses of it, but now that she was wearing next to nothing, I could make out a collection of dark shapes that started just above her elbow on her right side, and then continued up her shoulder before going along her ribs and curving behind her at her waist. Put together, the black geometric shapes made up some kind of creature’s tail… probably a dragon. 

She currently had one hand between her legs, staring at the wall beside me, just inside the room, where the television screen hung next to the door. Her small fingers ran back and forth lazily… dark eyes and skin illuminated by flickering lights from the television.

Moments after spotting her, she finally noticed me and smiled shyly. That look, along with the pig tales, dark makeup, and tattoo, once again reminded me of a corrupted schoolgirl, which was the impression I had when I first met her.

I took a couple of steps into the room and glanced at the television against the wall—the sound was off, so I hadn’t been prepared to see a video of two women sucking a cock. Their lips were running up and down its length before sharing the head between them as they made out.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Charity said demurely. “I thought I’d stay warm while waiting for you.”

“Not at all,” I said, my throat feeling like sandpaper as I admired the demure little woman presenting herself to me.

I felt cool hands on my back, and moments later, Rose pressed her small breasts against me. Her full lips brushed my ear.

“Just so you know,” she whispered, “this is the appetizer.”

She slid around me and sauntered into the room, walking behind Charity’s couch, running her slender fingers along the length of the furniture’s back. Her eyes stayed on me, gazing at me the way a jaguar sizes up a rodent. Still keeping her eyes on me, she leaned forward and whispered something in Charity’s ear. Charity nodded and removed her hand from between her legs—a tad reluctantly, I noticed.

She stood to her full height—five feet and some change—and waited for me to approach. I did, but before I could reach out and touch her, Rose placed a hand on my arm, stopping me.

“You’ve been gone more than a month,” the dancer husked, “so there’s no way this night is ending without you putting that beautiful cock inside me.”

I felt small, delicate fingers wrap around mine and looked down to see Charity holding both of my hands in hers. She started to back away, pulling me with her, leading me to a slatted door nearby. Rose slinked her way to the door, just beating us there, turning the knob, and nudging it so it swung open. I could see a couple of coats and what looked like a dress hanging just inside and wondered who they belonged to. As far as I knew, all my stuff was in my room. Then it occurred to me… I had at least seven women living in my apartment along with me—God only knew how many garments they had between them.

“But since this is your first time with Charity,” Rose continued, leaning against the wall beside the open door, fixing me with a stare full of need and desire, “I thought I’d give you a little alone time. I believe seven minutes is customary.”

Charity dragged me into the closet, and as I passed by Rose, she grabbed my head in both her hands and pulled me into a lip-bruising kiss, snapping at them with her teeth and lapping them with her tongue before pulling away. She kept her face close as she whispered, “Make every second count.”

Then she released me and shut the door, leaving Charity and me in near total darkness—slivers of barely-there incandescence thrown across our bodies from the slats in the door.