Lila

It was raining when we got out of the cab, and Lila was perturbed. The closest we could get to Jenn's place was about a block; her apartment was down a side street, too narrow for a car. It was all cobblestone, with dripping clotheslines overhead and tall brick buildings rising up on either side. It was her shoes, I think, and her hair, but Lila was not pleased. We stood together, sharing a disgruntled moment, before rushing and stumbling down towards the entrance. Lila had already been drinking, but she was only one ahead of me.

"Jenn? Jenn! It's us! It's raining! Let us in!"

"We've got tequila!"

Buzz.

Up the stairs and into the apartment, a few people, mostly hipsters and art school types in their mid twenties, nod in our general direction. Lila shakes the damp out of her careful curls. I run my hands through my hair, trying to restore its intentional messiness. A few eyes linger on Lila, on her elaborate makeup, on her soft maroon lips, on her impossible red heels. I take her coat because chivalry lives, and hang it up with mine. We enter the party.

"Hey! I'm glad you guys made it," says Jenn, pushing her way toward us, martini in tow.

"It wasn't raining when we got in the cab," Lila laughs, in the way that she does.

"You look fine," says Jenn, "you look really fine," her martini adds.

I smile and Lila smiles and Jenn waves her martini in deflection.

"I'm kidding. Well, you do. It's nice to see you too, Jake! Nice shirt."

"Thanks," I say, and I look down at the dark brown thing covered in fake stitched balloons. I like it, too, but I don't say so. I smile and mess with my hair again.

Jenn stares blearily at us for a moment before Lila brings up the subject of margaritas and they head for the kitchen. I find my friend Sam Who Works At Future Shop and his friend Dale Who Brought Swedish Beer and now we've all done this before.

A couple of drinks, three new acquaintances and five albums I've never heard of later, Lila finds me. She's not holding a margarita, but I can see a few in the way she grins. Her curls have fallen just slightly but she still looks so damn good, drunk, in out of the rain. Her dress, that tight brown thing with the bow, it's scrunched up around the waist just slightly and I can see her legs all the way down to those impossible heels and suddenly we're walking toward Jenn's bedroom.

Inside, against the door, Lila pulls off my shirt and kisses my chest, dark red smudges. She bites just under my ribcage, where it hurts. Back up, she kisses my mouth, fast and messy and delicious. She's tequila and limes, undoing my belt. Feeling my hips and ribs.

I grab her and turn her, pushing her back against the door now. She reaches for the front of my jeans and feels me, hard, but it's my turn. I move one hand up to her neck and pull her into a kiss, reaching the other to feel the front of her dress. She pushes against me, hard. I pull up the dress and I'm treated to something red and lacy, which must be uncomfortable with the stiff cock inside, straining against it.

Lila pulls me out and I press against her, feeling the warm, hard heat beneath so much lace. I can't think straight. Every time we go out, no matter where, by my second drink all I can think about is what lacy, cottony, strappy thing she'll be stretching out later. These particular panties hide just about nothing and with my hand I feel every detail of her cock through the intricate material. She moans, maybe too loudly, but I don't care. Who could care?

I tug on the fabric and she pops above the waistband. Lila moans with freedom and I'm on my knees, kissing and worshipping her. My other hand finds my dick, unbearably hard, and I stroke it quickly, without thought. I'm sucking her, feeling her, trying to please every inch of her. I reach up to feel what might as well be breasts, her nipples hard under the thin material.

"Wait," she says, "stop, I'm going to come."

I slide her out of my mouth, reluctant. I stand up and everything hard about us touches as we kiss. When it ends, her eyes are saying fuck me so her lips don't need to. There's lube in my pocket and I twist it open with my teeth, tasting chemical strawberries. Lila takes it and spreads it over me with her fingers, with her painted nails, with her moisturized hands. I can't begin to explain how this feels.

I take Lila by the waist and turn her again, pressing her chest against the door. Her tits, which must be huge and breathtaking. I pull down the red lacy nothing and feel her ass, firm and warm and too inviting. She breathes in deep when I press against her. The tip of my cock pushes at her ass, desperate but careful. She claws at the door, digging her nails into the cheap paint job. Leaving little crescent moons. When I'm finally inside her, all of me, I kiss the back of her neck. The part the dress doesn't cover.

When I fuck her, we play with her cock. She strokes herself with all the slippery fake strawberries, whichever other hand holding her up. I push my fingers in circles around the base of her, massaging her. She grips herself. I stroke the tip of her and grab her thighs. Our hands are sticky and wet and moving everywhere.

"Lila," I say, "you're so tight. Your pussy is so tight."

"Fuck me," she says, "fuck my cunt. Fill me up with your hard cock."

We talk like porn stars. We talk like we have someone to impress. I fuck her and I stroke all of her, our fingers working together. When she comes, we both try to catch it all, but she comes so hard. She comes on the door, on our hands, on her legs. She tells me she's coming and she arches her back, pushing her ass against me. Then I'm coming, deep inside her. I don't know where my hands are. I'm kissing everything that looks like skin and she's trying to catch her breath just like me.

When she turns around, out of breath, she's messy and beautiful. Her lipstick is gone and her hair's tangled, but she's perfect. This close, I can see the jaw line hidden by blush. I can see the plucked eyebrows. I can see every detail she's considered, but I don't care. She kisses me because she knows I don't.

We're smiling, all messy grins against the door, but she's just right. She's Lila My Girlfriend, and I'm Jake Her Boyfriend, and there are margaritas waiting in the kitchen.