What if...

...Youji wore stockings and they got a run in them?

[Version 1.1]


II.

Schuldich didn't go straight home, but then again, she never did; night 
or day there was always somewhere to wander and taste the speeding 
lights of the city on her skin; the trickling, wet ashes of sugar in 
her mind where they all melted soft together; a field of sweet stars 
upon the earth; one strong and gentle flavor on the breath between the 
buildings.  

She spoke to no one, and listened to everyone, got lost and walked for 
awhile, the trenchcoat fastened over her still-bared breasts.  Around 
midnight she found a cab driver staring at her through the windshield 
of his car, and she took him from the patrons outside the glittering 
dance club where he'd been waiting.  He didn't even try to talk to her, 
just watched her in the rearview mirror rather than looking at the 
road.  Horns sang all around them, but in spite of the few lights he 
missed as they turned red, he sufficed, got her home in one piece with 
only a small bruise where she had fumbled one of her own thighs a 
little too tight just to watch him squirm.

The poor fellow made it halfway back to his club before he realized she 
hadn't paid him, let alone asked to be dropped off anywhere near a 
residential area.  

Around the ankles of the Takatori building, the streets were dim and 
vacant as the night sky over the city for there was no moon, save the 
halo of Tokyo tower in the distance.  The tiny lights left on for the 
last straggling workers didn't count, for they were paler than candles.

No one saw her pass, no one even heard.  She left her sneakers at the 
door of the elevator.  It was how she let the doorman know she was home 
rather than walk in on him and his voyeuristic imported television.  
So, it was barefoot how she ascended to the nineteenth floor.

At the top of the worn, white waves that made up the stairs, her 
brother waited for her, some trinkets from her closet hung over his 
arm.  Schuldich and Sardi spoke no words of greeting, just smiled wider 
and wider the closer they drew to each other, though they didn't touch, 
no, not at first.  It was but suddenly she swept forward and took him 
in her arms, pressed her lips to the top of his silky, saffron blond 
head.

He helped her off with her clothes though, looping her lover's trench 
coat over the banister and catching the camera before it fell.  The 
teddy had to go, sadly.  Like the gloves that she had thrown off 
somewhere near Shinjuku, it was quite ruined.  Schuldich stripped it 
off right there in the stairwell, gave it one last parting look, and 
tossed it over Sardi's head.  He thought to her he could smell Yukako's 
orchid perfume on it and then they parted for the time being.

The vestibule held no signs of anyone within the apartment, save for an 
almost empty shoe rack.  The fact was that as careful as they were to 
adhere to the customs in Japan in public, none of them ever remembered 
to go barefoot, save here now that Sardi had overlooked her slippers.  
No, not even the sounds of anyone awake greeted her.  Only the glare of 
a desk lamp would have betrayed him to someone else.

But even before she caught the glow beneath the office door, she felt 
him, tasted him.

There was no more need to pretend.  She simply threw the door open, and 
stomped into his chambers.  Tokyo hung like a painting on the far wall 
by their plate glass windows, and one library light burned over his 
papers.  She sat down beside it on the edge of his blotter and 
announced, "Guess who hired us some help?"

***

"Hm," he said, dropping the sheet he held onto the desk. "It 
wouldn't be an utterly luscious redhead I happen to know VERY well, 
would it? 

Schuldich simpered at him, and Crawford leaned forward with a thump 
of his chair, and caught one of her wrists. He lifted it to his lips, 
and kissed its tender underside. "Mm. Perfume's still there. Yours...
and hers." 

Crawford mouthed her flesh there, then released her, and pushed his 
chair back from the desk. He leaned back again, and the leather 
chair's joints creaked in protest under his weight. 

"I've already seen something of the particulars, but...why don't you 
come over here and sit on Daddy's lap, and tell me about it anyway?"

***

"Yes, Daddy!" Schuldich replied, giving herself a little mock-modest 
embrace before she burst out laughing.  Brad joined her, puffing 
himself up like a patriarch proper before the faint 'oof' he gave when 
she flopped down upon him.  

She sat on his thighs with her legs crossed, and her knees hooked over 
one arm of the very unhappy chair.  Her own hands held the top edge of 
the back rest, rather than her lover's shoulders, so when she leaned 
down, she had space to swing away from him, and meet his eyes with all 
the glimmering satisfaction in her own.

"Well, Yukako said she'd do it for a grand total of six mil, plus a new 
pair of stockings--a little extra for a bet we had goin' just before 
she... hurried off.  Oh, and one night with me.  Didn't figure you'd 
mind."

When his tongue swept out over his lips at those words, there, of 
course, could be no doubt he didn't.  Not that she had expected he 
would, even in what scant moments it took her to lean down and gloss 
his mouth with her own.

"And it's going to be a hell of a one night.  I didn't show her you-
know-what.  She got kinda pissed and ripped the crotch out of that 
antique lace teddy though.  Had to make her promise to buy me a new 
one."

***

"What a pity," murmured Crawford, idly stroking her uppermost 
positioned knee. "I did like that on you. The color set your skin 
off to perfection." 

She darted in for another brief kiss, swinging away before he could 
invade her mouth with his tongue. He contented himself by pushing 
back the edges of her raincoat from her legs, and petting her long, 
bare thighs. 

"Oh, well. This only means that I'll get to see you model another 
one some night. " His wandering hand came to rest over her half-
hidden mound; he could feel the heat from it nonetheless, and he 
smiled. 

"Do continue," he urged, hooking his hand between her pressed thighs, 
and lifting the one off the other. He cupped her sex before she 
could hide it away again, and lightly drummed his fingertips over her 
clit.

***

Her gaze left his only long enough to glance down at the palm gathered 
against her netherlips- so close it didn't even look like he'd parted 
his fingers to push up against her.  With a grin, Schuldich folded her 
legs around his hand, and whispered in his ear as she spoke.  "She 
couldn't even wait to climb in the back seat of somebody's car- kissed 
me right in the bar and dragged me out to the alley behind it."

That much she embellished for the sake of a good story, no one dragged 
her anywhere.  Least of all hired hands.  Even if he knew the lie, Brad 
stirred under her, and swept his fingers very close to her indeed.  

"Not like I minded, it was kinda fun after awhile, taking turns pushing 
each other up against the wall, and this sure came in handy..."

Her lover's trench, still riddled with her own scent, his scent, 
Yukako's scent, brushed up against his nose, and finally fell from her 
shoulders so that nothing but her sweater covered her chest.  Not that 
even that mattered after a moment; Brad stopped and sucked each of her 
nipples lightly through the silky weave that covered them.

"You've got the idea.  We felt each other up pretty good too.  I 
wouldn't be surprise if I've got a couple bruises.  Don't worry, I'm 
just as sure I left a few behind."   

***

"Didn't want her to forget you, hm? As if she ever will. As if she 
could," he whispered against the damp patch over her left nipple. 
Her clit he pressed between two fingers, and rubbed them slowly 
against the delicate nub. 

He kissed her, and kissed her, until she began to writhe impatiently 
in his hands. It was then that he ceased his caresses, and began to 
scoop his papers up and drop them to the floor. 

"I think I should take a look at those bruises, don't you? Just for 
safety's sake. Why don't you be a good little girl, and take off all 
your clothes--slowly--and stretch out here on my desk?"

***

As she swept off Crawford's lap, Schuldich added with one last sway of 
her hips against him, "I'll finish my story while I'm at it too."

The fingers straying once more over her wrist asked after the silence 
that had taken her in the mean time, the denouement of reticence that 
had seemed so certain before.  She let him touch her that once last 
time before the game really began, and then slipped away at last.

"Well, it's hard to talk with your tongue in my mouth, not that I MIND 
or anything but... technical impossibility and all that."

Unfastening the buttons that cascaded down the seam of her sweater with 
only the palm of her hand was not, though.  She didn't seem even to take 
their presence into account- just drew, just stroked herself, and 
wherever her hand fell, so did the mother of pearl slivers flee their 
eyelets.  The strain of her breasts parted the fabric over her chest 
before she had even reached her stomach, and she had to do no more than 
smooth them bare with a few shifts of her shoulders.  

All the while, a litany soft.  "She did me first, stuffed her nails and 
everything right up inside me and pulled.  But it wasn't just that, she 
rubbed me too, right under where I'm pierced, but I didn't let her see, 
not yet.  She made me come that fast, and then... oh, she let me play." 
Her last button parted and without it, the whole top fell from her and 
down to the floor.  "I had one of my plugs with me and I put it 
riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight..."

In nothing but her skirt now, Schuldich steadied her knees against the 
desk and bent over it until her skirt pulled up in the back and her 
rosebud peered out at her lover.  "There."

The silver nylon tumbled back into place, creeping down now as it was, 
first one slim edge of her waist peering out, and then the other.

"And I did to her exactly what she did to me, over and over, with my 
gloves on.  They're ruined now.  We just kept tumbling apart and 
together until finally, I just pulled up her skirt," At which hers 
finally left her form all together, "and we rode each other up against 
the wall.  But, you're right."

As nimbly as if she turned herself onto a bed, Schuldich jumped onto 
the desk.  "She did do something to me."  Her legs opened once again, 
and inside her folds were still limned with the glistening juices, not 
only of her welcome home, but of the last orgasms she and Yukako had 
shared.  "That and..."

A sigh, and she fell back along the desk- it held her nicely, and only 
her ankles dangled off the end.  From where she reclined, Schuldich 
glanced down at her chest, and their faint reddish-purple handprints 
which indeed lingered there- hardly more than their own play was wont 
to cause, but she gave them a woeful sigh, and taking her breasts in 
her hands, gave them a tiny, tentative squeeze.

For it though, she cried out, as if caught between rapture and pain.

***

The chair's joints screamed again as Crawford tipped forward and rose 
to his feet, and the seat rocked nervously back into place, 
forgotten. He rested his weight upon his fists along the edge of the 
desk, taking in the sight of the woman stretched out before him. 
Schuldich shifted gingerly on the desk's glossy wooden surface, lit 
softly by the single lamp that stood rooted in place by her right 
shoulder. The muted light turned her reddening nipples pink, threw 
her faint bruises into garish relief against her white skin. 
Crawford ran the forefinger of one hand along the under curve of her 
abused left breast, gratified by the sight of how it tightened under 
his touch. 

"My, my," he breathed. "She did a number on my baby. The brute." 

Crawford fanned his hand down her ribs, to pet her sloping stomach, 
graze her sex. "I ought to find her and punish her for her 
insolence. I might yet." 

Schuldich blinked up at him with her sly, green eyes, and raised her 
arms over her head. Her breasts rose, almost as if pleading to be 
touched again, but Crawford only graced them with what attention his 
gaze could give them. 

"I might," he repeated, pushing away from the edge of the desk, "but 
not just yet." 

He came to rest again at the end of the desk, and lightly gripped one 
ankle. She stretched, and arched, and he could see her juices 
glistening between her legs. His cock strained desperately against 
his fly, and, one handed, he undid his belt, freed the button and 
zip. 

And then yanked hard upon her ankle, speeding her to him across the 
desk's slippery top. Her hair fanned out behind her, and she didn't 
struggle, even when he raised her legs in the air, and nuzzled the 
tip of his sex against the opening of her honeyed cunt. 

"Not...just...yet." 

With that, he hitched his hips forcefully against her, and drove into 
the embracing warmth of her loins.

***

"I've no complaints," Schuldich intoned quite mildly even as her body 
shook beneath her lover's luscious little blows.  Silent she was for a 
moment as she grinned up at him, spoiled-cat content and everything a
submissive could never hope to be.  "But you'll let me play with her 
first before you do, riiiiiiiiight?"

With a nod, he straightened his glasses that had begun to stray from 
his nose, ended up casting them away after awhile.  They fell with 
a thump for the frames, and one for the ear piece as his force sent them 
tumbling over and ever.

He couldn't see, so she screamed for him, let the flutters darting 
through her vagina slip into spasms, let herself clench and unclench 
around her lover's slick and dripping stiffness.

Crawford came to her then in more than that, covered and swathed her 
wherever he could reach: the tiny wounds dappling her chest.  Every 
finger print he kissed, every rib where he felt them beneath her skin- 
as if such a stiff cage as there was set around her heart affronted him 
and his desire where he could not feel it outright.  One of her hands 
she knitted in his hair and pushed him closer, even if it did smart- 
that was half at least of her delight. 

"Desks are highly underrated.  They jus-... aaaaaaaaaa... are."

***

"I couldn't...agree with you more." 

Crawford lunged forward to press one more kiss to her bruised lips, 
and then he left her altogether, pausing to rearrange his clothing 
while she stretched and purred like a kitten. 

He fell with a soft, contented grunt into his chair, only to rise 
again to catch her up in his arms, and draw her down with him. His 
lips found her ear, and his hands wandered lightly over her bruised 
form. 

"I do like how your mind works, Schuldich."

***

"And I do like my lovers naked... oh? Hmm.  Looks like somebody was too 
anxious to get completely undressed.  And he's got girl spunk over his 
favorite Armani trousers!"

Crawford had no sooner glared at the front of his trousers, than his 
companion shook her head and, and uttered her throaty chuckle up 
against his neck.  

"Made you look.  You know I don't care either way if you're dressed or 
not."

Through the musky linen of his shirt she still caressed him, nails and 
finger tips alike stole like butterflies over him until his gasps called 
for her again, and his palm swayed soft against her clit.  

"Okay, so I kinda like you dressed.  Now you know."

Knew, and with one mouth pressed to her wounded nipples, plainly didn't 
care, just opened his fly a little wider, and beckoned.  In just that 
alone, she rode his toying hand for awhile, accentuating every pale 
shiver that through her crept, her whole upper body pressed against his 
shirt so tight the buttons left a little trail down her center.

Bit by bit, she sunk nearer his penis until the lips of her sex ticked 
it and her own wrist, as she moved under him, and he did his best to 
play with her.  Only then did she sink down, and bury it inside her.

Brad took her by the thighs, and steadied her legs as she rolled back 
and forth over him, cried softly now and spasmed but slowly, the juices 
the seeped from her trembling cunt milky now.

Less so after she feigned she would leave him, but in the end, only 
rocked backwards in his arms.

"C'mon, there's no better lube than pussy juice, and that detective 
kept asking if you do me up the ass so..."

***

Crushing his mouth to hers, he shifted her body over his own, and 
nestled the head of his sex between her cheeks. Then he pulled back 
a little, to stare down into his lover's bright green eyes. 

"Don't want to disappoint her, do we?" he asked. 

She shook her head, her laughter dying in a moan as he dragged her 
down to be pierced by his stiffness. She gasped and clung to him, 
and he buried his face against her naked chest. His tongue rolled 
over her taut nipples until he couldn't stand it anymore.  With a 
sigh, he  slumped back in his chair, and let her ride his cock 
while he toyed with her bruised, tender globes. 

"You're like satin everywhere," he breathed.

***

"And you're still the greatest fuck I ever had," she answered with   
kisses around his eyes, his new-bloomed frown; it greeted her and 
breathed her foamy moans.  "Well, you try being poetic with a dick that 
big up your ass!"

Though her words had only drained away with pleasure.  The heat of her 
first orgasm had not all together left her, and so the second rippled 
quickly now through her clenching muscles and they parted enough to 
take him to the root.  She let them, and her lover moaned against the 
sensuous tickles her body left upon him, purred when the two fingers 
she thrust into her vagina made her tighter still against him.

"You're like... milk froth on a cappuccino.  All over."

He kissed her between the breasts though, lapping her skin as if the 
sentiment was more her own.  And just so steadied, with her feet long 
ago fallen from their chair and steadied on the carpet, she rose over 
him, dripped on him and rocking back and forth against him; would let 
him slide first into her sex, and then the rosy mouth of her anus, 
purring equally between the two herself.  

***

His lips left her with the softest of the sighs, and Crawford lay his 
head upon the seat's high, leather-clad back. The sliding rhythm 
Schuldich had set over his throbbing member was maddening in the most 
pleasurable of ways; he only wanted to savor it, same as he yearned 
to impress the sight of her within his memory. 

Her modest breasts quivered as she rose and fell over him, pink buds 
peeking out from beneath the bright veil of her long hair. He swept 
it back again, and covered the trembling mounds with his hands, 
drawing a humming little moan from Schuldich. Deep inside her 
slippery cunt, his sex twitched, and he thrust upward a bit from his 
seat, rubbing her aching insides with his tip. 

Schuldich leaned over him again, and the ends of her fiery locks 
tickled the backs of his hands. Crawford lowered them to her sides, 
tracing the shift of muscle over her ribs, the way her waist dipped 
in beneath the bone cage before slightly rising over her hips. 
She was so wet, he could smell the salt honey scent of her on the 
air. Delicately, he slid his fingers to his sex, tips up, and 
gathered her traces when she swallowed him again. 

Which he then tasted, whilst he flicked a thumb back and forth over 
her rosy clit. 

"I may be like milk," he whispered, "but you taste like candied 
violets."

*** 

"Mmm... do I?" She asked, but without want of an answer, for her lips 
came to his then, and from the very tip of his tongue she drank of her 
own flavor, mingled with the twinge of smoke his mouth always wore.  

"Oh... I do.  And I know how much you like violets." So close were they, 
that when she smiled, his lips followed hers, though he could not know 
the reason, not just yet.  Before she finished her thoughts in words, 
Schuldich had risen on her lover's lap, and tipped his head down so his 
face lay against her bare breasts so she could stroke him and herself 
there in the same tiny sweeps of her fingers.  

"Put you hand in me." This whispered, and before he had a chance to 
react, she had slipped up against him, tight enough to let his shaft 
slip into her ass, where she kept it now, squeezing her muscles tight 
over his head and the rim of his root.  Crawford shuddered, and he 
bucked, his hips leaving the nest of the chair's arms for an instant to 
drive into her.  Lucid once again without her pressure, he obeyed at 
last, and felt himself through her slick walls, marveling and purring 
in every breath he drew from the powder on her chest.  

"Now, don't fight it.  Make me come when you do.  You can lick me clean 
for as long as you want then."

She laughed rather than scream as he pushed deep against her, inside 
and out.

***

Crawford caught her lightly at the back of her neck in an effort to 
steady her against the urgent workings of his hand and cock. She 
could not move very far, just up and back under his thrusts. He took 
advantage of her helplessness to tease and tickle the slim curves of 
her breasts with kisses, and little flickers of his tongue. 
Schuldich moaned and breathlessly laughed, and he felt her quiver. 

"Come on, Schuldich," he murmured in the vale of her bosom. "Hug me 
tight like I like..." 

He plunged his fingers deep, wriggling, and she arched with a 
cry as he drove his stiffness into her. She bore down on him in 
kind, clinging to him with muscles only. The chair whined beneath 
them, and Crawford strained against his lover as she writhed over 
him, tension building and building. 

His orgasm overtook him suddenly, bursting white hot behind his 
closed eyelids, every nerve thrumming with pleasure. Crawford was 
only barely aware of her cries, the subsequent brush of her lips upon 
his own, soft and unhurried as she came to rest upon him. Together 
they lay, wrapped in each other's arms to catch their breaths, the 
chair rocking them as surely as a cradle. She broke from his embrace 
without a word to either ear or mind, and Crawford opened his eyes to 
find her still straddling his naked lap. The muted light from the 
neon lamps outside warmed the dainty peaks of her breasts and the 
right side of her feline face. He ran his hands over her stomach, 
cupped her kiss-roughened mounds; when he reached for her neck, she 
tipped her head back, sending her mussed locks spilling over her 
shoulders. 

Schuldich let him kiss her there, let him caress the bruised edges of 
her lips with his tongue before she pulled away from him. He 
followed quick on her heels, covering himself as he went. 

"Hold on, little girl," Crawford sighed in her ear. "You said you'd 
let me lick you as I wished." 

Her eyes held nothing of a promise within their green marble depths, 
though she smiled just as easily. When Schuldich tried to pull away 
from him again, he seized her around her bare waist, and hoisted her 
over his shoulder. She began to laugh as any woman would when she 
had gotten the better of a man, and he smacked her once on the ass. 

"I'm going to wash that pretty ass of yours, and anything else I 
want. And then..." He turned to playfully bite her side as he flung 
open his office door. "I'm going to lay you down on the middle of 
our bed, and lick you until you beg to have me in you again." 

/Little minx.../

***

"Oooh, promise?" Schuldich tittered, choosing to ignore his epithets 
for the time being.  When he nodded, she rubbed up against his ear, 
though nothing much came of it.  

The living room of the chambers Takatori had given them was alight yet: 
dim, though sight lingered but softly in the puddles of the iron and 
glass lily lamps amid the forest of their furniture.  In one such pool 
two fishes swam over lilypads of homework papers and a worn volume of 
Blue Beard.  

Nagi and Sardi simply lifted their gazes and stared with some 
disinterest at the couple leaving the office.  A page turned, a throat 
was cleared, and Schuldich began to laugh once one more, this mostly 
because her lover's hair tickled than the fact she let her oozy cunt 
wide open to any curious glances.  She was dripping onto Brad's shirt, 
and he made no indication he cared.

The little blond boy announced after a few stray chuckles, "Well, it's 
always comforting to know you two are enjoying yourselves," and then 
made as if to go back to his novel.

"No, we're not going to keep it down," his sister sang.  "We don't want 
you to have any peace and quiet not when... aaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Crawford had silenced her by popping two of his fingers into her slit 
and driving them up against the softest place on her inner walls.

"Well, it was worth asking..."

***

"Who says I'm complaining?" replied Crawford. "I merely wanted to 
toy a little more with your juicy little pussy." He wriggled his 
fingers slightly inside her, and she responded by thumping her knees 
against his side. 

"Mmm...glad I could please you." 

As he rounded the corner into their Japanese style bathroom, Crawford 
rubbed his head against her hip to tickle her, coaxing forth another 
squirming giggle. Once inside, she shut the door, and he locked it 
before setting her down onto the well-scrubbed pale pink tile; it 
stretched across the floor to the edges of the walls, where its color 
changed to aqua. Marine life had been stenciled upon those tiles: 
octopi, starfish, koi, angelfish, and puffers. Red and yellow whales 
that spouted green plumes of water. It was childish, but Crawford had 
found it oddly cheering in its way. No one had made protests over its 
appearance, so he chose to keep it as it was. 

Right down to the pearly scallop shell shaped shower head. Crawford 
slipped off his Italian loafers, set them by the door where they 
wouldn't get wet. With a leer for Schuldich's lithe, naked form, he 
padded back over to the shower area, and turned on the taps, fiddling 
with them until the water was just the right temperature; his suit 
and shirt got soaked in the process, but he didn't really care. 

Crawford plucked her oft used peach-pink pouf off dainty stand where 
she kept her lotions and gels, and he picked his favorite scent from 
the assortment of bottles: pink lemonade. He wet the pouf, and 
squirted a neat dollop of the bright pink gel atop it. 

And then, he beckoned to her, purring, "Come here, Schuldich." 

***

But Schuldich, though she did as he asked, did not simply 'come', she 
turned a cartwheel from her tiptoes and landed with every strand of her 
hair bobbing stray about her face.  The tile hadn't grown wet enough 
yet to let her skid, but she had been obliged nonetheless to spread her 
legs wide when she landed, her hands held out before her lover still 
pinking with the blood her spinning had pushed into them.

Not that Brad paid them all that much attention.  One milky tread of 
her juices slipped her netherlips and seeped away in the water 
prickling at her feet.  Her shoulders tipped, and her cheek stole 
against them as she feigned she clasped her hands behind her back.  She 
managed to keep a straight face as one finger dipped into her rosebud 
after the traces of her lover.  That too, once it had left her, washed 
away.

Crawford clicked his tongue at her and sprayed her once over the head 
so that her messy hair melted to organdy silk tangled up with the 
lavender splotches lining her chest.  He ran his hands through it, held 
her with his hands in it, and with her steadied just so, pressed the 
pouf between her legs and began to let its slick threads play up and 
down Schuldich's slit.

"Just don't forget the other side." And she tugged on his shirt collar 
until he bent to kiss her.

***

"How could I...Not?" Crawford asked between the tender smackings of 
their lips. "It's smoother than silk. It begs to be good and 
properly groped by someone who can appreciate it." 

She stuck out her tongue, and he touched the tip of it with his own, 
then reclaimed both writhing wet muscles in another kiss. Through 
the pouf, he lightly pinched her inner folds, and she jumped a little 
in his embrace. One of her long legs met his trousered one, and she 
rubbed her thigh alongside his. 

"Vixen," he murmured, when he at last did free her from his 
kiss. "Tease, tease, tease..." 

Crawford swept her hair back from one side of her neck, and there he 
bit and licked a line down her flesh. The pouf he brought to her 
ravished ass, and he gently laved it with the sudsy netting. She 
gasped in his ear when he edged it between her cheeks, and he pulled 
her close. The pouf landed in a puddle of warm water by the drain. 
Crawford cupped his free hand under the flowing water, and let the 
pool he'd collected drip over her ass. 

"Let me do you here. Just a little bit," he said, sliding his hand 
onto her water-jeweled mound, and catching her clit between two 
fingers. "Because you're all wet and juicy. It's too good to pass 
up."

***

"You KNOW I can't pass up a soapy fuck, right?" Schuldich purred once 
more for him, but held immaculately still as he rolled her back and 
forth between his knuckles.  Her breath hitched with his murmured 
assent and the nub he held shook with delight, once more creeping 
towards the tiny hood of flesh that cradled it as she climaxed.  
Crawford pinched her there, outlining the little v with his thumb 
before he went on.

"Like I said, didn't show her THAT.  No point in rushing.  With her or 
you."  With those idle words, she sighed and reached for the open 
clamshell of the shower head.  Her lover's fly fell to her wandering 
hands and his trousers followed; his boxers so her legs lay naked 
against his warmth now.  "Hence my returning the favor."

The pink lemonade gel drizzled over him in syrupy loops that bloomed 
into white foam with the passing of Schuldich fingers sweeping away the 
last sheen of her own juices.  Beneath her flighty hands he surged, 
pinked, strained inside his skin for her even as she rinsed her touches 
away.  The last of the liquid soap in her hands once more slicked him 
afterwards and she drew back, step by step until she stood beneath the 
spray.  There she leaned into the corner, arching her back against the 
slick, pink walls as her legs opened.

***

Crawford stepped out of his sagging garments, and left them behind in 
a soggy mass at the water's edge. His shirt he partially undid with 
shaking fingers, then ripped open, sending the pearly buttons flying 
in all directions. He stripped the shirt off his back, and flung it 
away, reaching for his lover. 

Water trailed down her lithe body in thin coils, spiraling around her 
heat-reddened legs to drip onto the tile floor. It wet his hands 
even further when he cupped her sides below her rib cage, and bent to 
take one pink nub in his mouth. He stroked it with his tongue, and 
felt it pucker and harden. He would have gone on like that, moving 
from one to the other, if Schuldich had not laced her long fingers 
through his hair, and dragged him up from her chest to her mouth. He 
braced himself with an arm against the steamed tile, stopping her 
from claiming him as she would have liked. 

"No, no, temptress," he whispered. "I'm calling the shots in this 
game." And he bent to the side to kiss her neck, as he slid his free 
hand down to cradle her ass, supporting her as he edged the tip of 
his cock into her slick little cunt. 

***

"Mmm, I can live with that... for now," Schuldich murmured, and her 
head fell back against the crux of the shower, baring her throat for 
her lover's mouth.  He took his time tasting her there- the salt and 
sugar and the must of the city trapped there by her evening out in 
the luminous pink blood of the city.  With just the crown if his shaft 
poised inside her, he rocked back and forth on his toes, pressed her 
further open, bit by bit, all the little ribbons of flesh along her 
slit alight now with his fickle touch.  It made her ooze inside, just 
thinking of the moments scant seconds from her present when he stopped 
playing.

Not that she minded his games all that much, especially when he took 
himself and the few pearly strands of her juices and rubbed them 
against her clit.  The mingled wetness seeped into her hot skin, 
tingled and tickled and burned.  When she tried to rub herself up 
against him, he simply tugged away and pinched her ass.

"Hey, I'm just messing with you too.  Can't blame me.  Go on, what's... 
ohh... ohh... just a little further back..." He was driving into her 
empty petals that framed neither her clit nor her vagina, breathing so 
hard against her despite his otherwise calm.  She took her hand from 
his side and clasped one of her breasts despite Yukako's finger prints 
there; worked it gently as she smiled at him, dripped on him.  When he 
did reach into her at last, it was all at once for the edges of her 
pussy were too soaked to hold him back.

***

"Yeah," he answered, all hushed and breathless against her 
lips. "And now, I'm going to mess with you." 

Worrying her lower lip gently with his teeth, he clasped one taut 
thigh and drew up along his hip. Schuldich braced herself within the 
confines of her corner, palms flat on the droplet smeared tiles, 
though it was clear he wouldn't let her fall. He pulled away, luring 
her forward for a kiss. With every greedy thrust, her sex slurped 
around him, glossed thickly with her honeyed juices. 

"I've been as faithless as you, so many lovers I can't remember 
them. But you...You're the best," he sighed, twisting his fingers in 
her hair. "The only one." 

Schuldich arched, pressing her breasts to his chest, and he dropped 
his hand to once more cradle one tender mound. In his grasp, it 
swelled, the nub hardening, and a moan fluttered from her. Crawford 
nipped at her throat, then leaned a little away from her, wanting to 
see her face as he drove his cock into the dripping folds of her 
pussy. 

"I want to meet this new lover of yours." 

***

And he was far from disappointed.  The wounds on Schuldich's mouth 
pinked, and her face shimmered with more than the few traces of water 
caught upon her cheeks.  Since her eyes were closed, the spray caught 
in her lashes glinted as she drew them tighter and tighter.  Her breast 
quivered in his hand as she pushed back against Brad's cock. 

"Oh yes," she said, breathing hotly and hard as she tried to lure his 
lips back to her own.  Her eyes opened, and they were brighter, more 
succulent with lust than they had been all evening.  "I knew you were 
gonna ask that.  And I've alllllready taken care of it.  I think you'll 
like Yukako."

::She's like me, comes at the drop of a hat.::

Crawford simply raised an eyebrow to her mental summons, and clasped 
his fingers over her mouth when she lunged for his; just held her, and 
squeezed her where he could, and nudged the inside of her cunt this way 
and that.

"And hey, I don't mind.  I think I can be the favorite around here a 
long time from now."

***

"Oh? Have you been both cursed and blessed with precognition? 
Or..." 

/Have you plumbed the depths of my mind so fully?/ 

He slid his hand down her gently curving belly, and snuggled her clit 
between his curled fingers, pinching it lightly. Schuldich's hips 
bobbled forward at his touch, and she tipped her head back against 
the sweating tiles with a low, sultry purr. She bore down on his 
surging cock, drawing a desperate moan from his lips. It quickly 
dissolved into a tiny laugh. 

"You know, you just might be right, Schuldich," he whispered, burying 
himself inside her with a series of shallow, rapid thrusts. "You 
just...might..." 

***

"I know I am," Schuldich hissed gently before her lovers fingers kissed 
her clit once more, and drew a little cry through her.  "After all, I 
am both blessed and cursed by *you*."

Steadied now on her shoulder blades, she once more leaned into the dips 
of Brad's penis.  Her breasts bobbed a little with her moans, and she 
pulled so tight as he leaned out of her again that her cunt sucked 
softly on his head and the wetness there.  Crawford shivered against 
her, intent for an instant on driving back into her just as he was, 
though inspiration had him then besides her nether-lips.

He kept one hand against her sex, and pulled her to him with the other, 
holding her by the back.  The tile squeaked as she lifted against it.  
They were eye to eye now, mouth to mouth and she wrapped her legs 
around his waist so her folds drew closer wound him, twanging against 
his skin when she came.

***

Braced by one hand on the tiles to keep from crushing her against the 
wall with his weight, Crawford followed her into bliss, sinking as far 
into her as he could, from groin to shoulder. He was well and truly 
soaked now, fully sated for the time being by their lovemaking. 
Still, he lowered himself to the floor at her feet, trailing his 
hands down her water-streaked body to clasp her thighs. Kneeling 
there, he kept her from closing her legs--if she indeed wanted to 
deny herself the light pressure of his tongue on her flesh. Her 
thoughts assured him that she did not. 

His semen oozed from her in pearly streaks, meshing with her own 
juices and the soapy streams coursing down her lithe form. Crawford 
dabbed a little upon one finger, tasting of them both before leaning 
to further drink from her cup. He touched the tip of his tongue to 
her clit, making her shudder in his grasp; she rested her weight upon 
the wall, tipping her hips forward, so that her sex jutted out. 

But instead of delving into her depths with his tongue, he cupped a 
hand under the spray, and covered the whole of her slick pussy with 
it. Again, and again, he touched her, washing away the traces of 
their play. He looked up to find her slanted, cat-eyes on him, a 
drowsy smile tugging at her lips. 

"However delicious your employee might be, I doubt she tastes as good 
as you."

***

"Oh? Well, I guess you can kiss her off my lips.  Then tell me if 
that's true or not."

Schuldich covered her lover's mouth with her finger tips- it was enough 
to stay whatever he might have wanted to tell her.  Rather than be 
silent only, he kissed her there even as she sank to the floor before 
him.

"Either way... I forget? Did I tell you I took pictures of her hand in my 
cunt?"

Crawford's nose began to bleed.  She just grinned and lapped the blood 
from his lips once the spray of the shower carried it there.

*****