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She’s a drug, and a truly addictive one. All it took was one hit and I was hooked on her. No, forget about that - the moment I laid eyes on her for the first time I knew that this wasn’t going to end well… In that moment, I knew I had to have her.
I watch Stacy sit up on the bed, her back turned to me as she runs both her hands through her hair; she looks for her panties, one hand patting the sheets by my side, and slides them up her legs when she finally finds them.
The pink glow of the sunrise finds its way into the bedroom easily, streaming through the drawn curtains and caressing her almost naked body. I’m about to say something when she turns to me; before I even know why I’m doing it, instinct kicks in and I react unconsciously, closing both my eyes.
I only open them back up when I feel the mattress shifting as she gets up. I watch her walk around the bedroo
m, her half naked body making my cock harden up again, and I have to fight against the urge to simply kick the sheets back and jump on her like a lion would jump on a gazelle. That’s how crazy she makes me.
At first I think she’s going to the bathroom, but she simply stands in the middle of the room, looking around as if she’s on the hunt for something. Which, I’d wager, she really is. Looking back at me over her shoulder, she makes sure that I’m asleep and then kneels in front of the wood cabinet I have right by the bed.
She opens every single drawer, sliding them out one by one and careful enough to be as silent as possible. She’d give a good covert operative, no doubt about that. If I didn’t have such a light sleep, I’d never know she wanted to spy on me. Although, to be honest, I should have realized that, sooner or later, she’d go looking for answers.
She rummages through the drawers for a long time, and then gets up and looks around the room once more. I watch her run her fingers over the books I have piled up on a shelf at the far end of the room, and she even cracks one of them open. Tiptoeing into the closet, she opens the door that leads into it and hesitates, her hand over the light switch. She presses on it for a second, the bright light tumbling into the bedroom, and I notice her turning her head as she tries to find something suspicious inside my closet. But, aside from my clothing, there’s nothing of that in there. Her hand goes back to the light switch and she turns it off with a careful flick of her fingers.
Not finding a thing, she tiptoes her way back into the bed.
She sits on the edge of the mattress and swings her legs up, lying by my side as if she had never left in the first place. I wait for three or four heartbeats, feeling the warmness of her body next to mine, and I finally stir.
“Hey,” I groan, rolling on the mattress and pretending that I’ve just woken up.
“Hey there,” she smiles at me, the round swell of her breasts peeking over the white sheets and inviting me to squeeze them.
“What’s going on?” I ask her, hoping that she’ll come forward and explain why she was snooping through my things. But that’s not what she does. She rubs her right eye with the back of her hand, as if she had just woken up, and yawns.
“Just woke up,” she lies, sliding her body closer to mine, and draping one arm over my naked chest.
“Really? I thought I heard you get up for a moment,” I continue, trying to force her to show me what’s her game, but she just sidesteps me again.
“You must’ve been dreaming,” she whispers, her hand sliding down my chest and worming its way underneath the sheets. I gasp as she curls her small fingers around my cock, and all it takes is one stroke for it to start hardening against the palm of her hand. “Dreamin’ of me,” she continues, her sweet voice making my whole body relax.
“I don’t think --” I start, but the rhythm of her hand starts growing and growing until I’m no longer able to form a coherent sentence. Smiling at me, she slides her free hand down the side of her body and, grabbing her thong, pushes it down her legs.
She curls up against me and I turn to her, placing the palm of my hand on her face and looking into her eyes. All it takes is one look at the delicate lines on her face and I forget all about what she was doing just minutes before, my hard cock stealing all blood from my brain.
“I’m really enjoying this,” she breathes out, her voice honeyed and seductive; she stops stroking me and pushes my cock down, angling it so that its tip is right against her pussy. “Waking up by your side,” she continues, rubbing the tip of my cock along the length of her pussy. I exhale sharply, feeling her warmness against my throbbing cock, and I completely give up on trying to have some answers. I just lean in and press my lips against hers, desire covering me like a thick blanket and muting all doubt from my body.
I might be able to resist a lot of things, but her body is not part of that list.
42
Stacy
“Okay, bye!” I go up on my tiptoes, and brush my lips against Sanders’. I offer him one last innocent smile, turn my back to him and walk in a straight line toward the Rockefeller Center. Looking back at Sanders, I wave him goodbye, and he waves back at me awkwardly. Then he just stands there, almost as if he intends to spend the whole day frozen in place like a statue, just waiting for me to get out. Sigh - he’s completely irresistible, but he’s also driving me completely nuts. What is it about him?
I saunter through the lobby like a woman with a purpose and head toward the elevators; I summon one of them and wait until a crowd gathers around me. When the elevator doors slide open, there’s some confusion as everyone hurries inside, and I take that opportunity to turn around and walk down toward the back of the lobby.
Erica’s already there, waiting for me. Her sunglasses are perched on her forehead, and she’s tapping her heel against the tiles on the floor impatiently. “There you are, finally!” She cries out as she sees me, sighing in exasperation. “What’s this all about, Stacy? You text me out of the blue to meet you here, and you don’t even explain what’s --”
“Just help me out, okay?” I say, trying not to waste any time with useless explanations. I grab Erica by the crook of her elbow and start dragging her toward one of the exit doors that lead to an alley on the back of the building.
“Where are we going?” She asks me as we step out into the street, the lively New York City atmosphere hitting us like a brick. Squinting her eyes at the morning sunlight, she rests her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and turns to me, my reflection on the two lens.
“You know, you ask a lot of questions, Erica,” I sigh, walking down the alley. There’s a moment of silence, but then I hear the click of her heels as she chases after me.
“Hey, you’re the one acting all weird,” she protests as we finally step foot on 6th Avenue and start going around the Rockefeller Center complex of buildings.
“I’m just trying to figure out something about Sanders, you know?” I start, walking as fast as I can without making it seem like I’m in a rush. Although, to be honest, I am.
