An Unlikely Gentleman Ch. 02

Thanks to LadyVer for editing this story.



The moon was particularly beautiful that month: big, bright, slightly tinged with orange. Few clouds would even dare cross the path of its light as it shone over the city. The kind of moon that would be the centerpiece of an ominous setting, the perfect background for a fateful encounter. This moonlight attempted to flood my room, restrained only by the window's shape and size.

And I didn't give one minimal fraction of a flying fuck.

My lips were locked in a terrible battle with Trish's. I closed my eyes to focus on the sensations. She hadn't said anything as I opened the door, as it was the fourth time that week she had visited; she had told me that she had to turn in a series of essays and similar pieces of schoolwork and that she had needed to wind down. She had found no better way than me riding her until we were both covered in sweat and barely able to breathe.

I found it perfectly agreeable.

Trish couldn't hold back a sensuous moan as she heard my shirt being torn open. I was almost certain she'd come. I even had worn garments that I didn't care about, just in case.

I bit her lip, gently, but possessively, as I let the shirt fall. Trish's hands ran over my torso, and my arousal was fed with gasoline. My hand grabbed hers and I made her feel my hardened manhood through the jeans. She tightened her grip around it as she flicked her tongue near my lips, before invading my mouth.

The rustling sound of clothing crumpling under its own weight made me open my eyes. Nice surprise. She was opening her eyes too, which made the experience of kissing her even more intense, as we stared at each other. I touched her back. Her cardigan and jeans had been discarded, and we only had to separate from each other so she could get rid of her shirt. Once the stupid garment was finally out of our way, we looked at each other for a second.

There she was—a young woman that could've been a model for physical perfection. Tall, but with a perfect shape. Red hair in a fishtail braid. Freckles giving extra depth to those almond-shaped, dark, gorgeous brown eyes. Fair skin, but with some extra tan I suspected wasn't from the sun. Her D-cup breasts were an A+ worthy work of a doctor. Nothing overwhelming due to her height. She had almost no body fat, unjustifiably, since I saw her eat. Trish was just blessed with a superior metabolism. The cherry on top was her lustful expression, which carried a hint of accusation.

"I think I failed today's quiz."

I was unbuttoning my jeans as she said it. They fell on the floor. "Then we should fuck less often." My insincerity was obvious.

"Actually, we don't have enough sex. I was trying to answer th'damn thing, y'know"—her accent continued to amuse me—"and I couldn't stay in the same position...and it all reminded me of... I was wet before the third... Whatever, do me here."

Other than when we first met, Trish didn't like the word "fuck" to refer to sex. She could certainly curse and she didn't hold back from using that word, and yet, when we were about to have sex, or when we were doing it, she avoided it. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't straightforward. The redhead was efficiently getting rid of the last items as she said that, then, she took two steps towards the living room and placed her hands against the couch's back and looked over her shoulder. She couldn't wait.

The brown couch had been witness to more sex this week than in the last months. Trish had a particular attachment to it; she liked how the fabric felt. I fished the condom wrapper from my jeans, returning them to the floor where they belonged. She already had seen me naked enough times and she didn't need to be teased. I stepped out of my underwear as quickly as I could.

"And it's Friday."

I started sheathing my cock with the extra sensitive condom. "Oh?"

"I was waiting for it. I can stay the night again!"

I smirked at her, closed the distance between us, and aimed my member. When it touched her nether lips, I could feel just how hot she was—aroused just enough for us to get what we both wanted. I pushed into her, letting my breath out as I sunk into her constricting depths.

Trish's head fell between her supporting arms and she let out a small whimper, lifting her ass to allow me a deeper penetration. On the right side, a small, purple oval was visible. I had bitten her and given her a hickey, which made sitting through quizzes quite hard, apparently. The blame couldn't fall on me, however, as her backside was nothing short of delicious.

My hands found their way to her hips and took a firm grip. I knew she wanted it hard right away, but I had learned that if I did that, she would be sore the morning after. Since she was staying, I wouldn't compromise the possibility of morning sex too. My pace was almost languid, stretching each thrust as much as I could.

I bent over and breathed against her neck as I rocked my hips slowly against hers. Opening my mouth, I placed my teeth on her neck...but didn't bite. I straightened myself and with a firm grip on her body, started burying myself into her. Maybe I wasn't going at full speed, but the strength behind my movements was obvious.

Her voice trembled when she moaned. I bent my knees slightly and started thrusting upwards, the head of my cock sliding against that point inside of her that drove her crazy. It was opposite of where the G-spot is supposed to be located, but it worked wonders on her.

As expected, she gasped and then trembled, her knuckles becoming white as she grabbed onto the couch for support to accept all of me. Two of my fingertips caressed the purple spot I had left. I did get carried away often, but I wasn't in that mood yet.

Her walls started closing in on me as I kept the angled thrusts. She was getting close to an orgasm. Trish was definitely stressed; she usually needed more time, even for quickies. It was as if she wanted to get the first one out of the way. She wasn't talking, just fucking back and letting herself be taken.

Suddenly I remembered something. We hadn't closed the door in our hurry to have sex. I started to go faster, just to get her off. I'd worry about my orgasm after our privacy was assured, but Trish would probably not like to wait. I turned to my left to gaze at the partially open door and noticed a perfectly immobile silhouette, backlit but unmistakable. The growl of lust was out of me before I realized it.

Danielle.

My left hand dug into Trish's hips, and I started driving myself with purpose—with my desire in overdrive—my eyes burning into Danielle. Trish began whimpering with my forceful pumping.

The fingertips of my right hand tentatively caressed Trish's neck. Once I found her spine, I trailed my fingertips down her back slowly, sensuously, as I fucked her without mercy. But I only had eyes for Danielle. I bared my teeth, staring at her lasciviously. Trish moaned with the sensations as I slammed into her, impaling her with all the strength I could muster.

Although Danielle wasn't moving, I knew she got my meaning. I was fucking her through Trish. I exaggerated my movements. Since I already was on display, I'd make it worthwhile. I pulled almost all the way out before pistoning in a series of forceful thrusts.

The teen against the couch tried to say something, but she had issues articulating words while being thoroughly fucked. I could feel my dick getting harder as it slid into her with ease but rough purpose.

"Do you like that?" I did not direct that at Trish.

"Yes! God, yes!" She answered anyway.

Her sudden scream of pleasure took Danielle by surprise and shook her out of her trance. The silhouette hurriedly vanished from the doorway. Before she was out of earshot, I still had something else to say to my neighbor.

"I'll fuck you harder than you've ever imagined."

I spanked Trish and made good on my promise. Just as if she were my next full-body workout, I gave her all my effort and strength. I wasn't simply fucking her. I was destroying her and making her love it. My self-control was gone after having seen Danielle standing there watching. It was too much.

"Cum for me."

Trish was addressed this time. She just nodded, her submission to me total. I could feel my body temperature rising with the effort. My skin was tingling after so many stimuli. I spanked her again, and she yelped, contracting herself around me.

"Cum," I said.

She emitted a high-pitched groan and her body began shaking. I felt her pussy contracting wildly, trying to get me to ejaculate. I let one hand go. I bent over Trish, and that gave me the reach I needed. I played roughly with her clit to make it explosive for her.

With a wordless scream, she came, her body closing around me wrathfully. I joined her, filling the condom with such force I thought it was going to break. I felt each spurt weakening me, and I held on to her just as she did to the couch.

Trish and I gasped rather than breathed, our bodies sweaty and spent. We sat on the cold floor with our backs to the couch.

"Ok...remember how...I said that th'last one...was th'best? ...I take that back... THIS was th'best."

I revealed half a smile. I allowed my breathing to become a bit more regular before answering. "So... That time you asked me about what I ate. Do you really believe that?"

I hoped she didn't notice that I changed the subject and interpreted the smile as acceptance. I suddenly felt guilty, because with a clear mind, I knew that what I had done hadn't been smart. If everything went smoothly, they wouldn't talk about this and Danielle wouldn't bring it up.

"I read this crap about diet changing th'flavor...yours is th'best I've had."

"Why, thank you, Kid. But at this rate, my flavor is going to change, if that's true."

"Why?"

"Lay on the bed. I know what I want for dinner." I wolfishly grinned at her.

She nodded quickly and stood up as gracefully as she could manage after a disorienting orgasm. Without delay, she strode towards the bedroom. I went to close the door, thoughtful.

***

Trish nudged me awake. The clock showed it was 2 p.m. already. We had been up late. "Gatorade should sponsor this shit," she said with a huge grin.

"We'd have to invite a crowd to watch the event."

"But we'd get paid for this!"

"I find that hard to counter. I take it you enjoyed yourself, then?"

"Idiot. I'm going to get something to drink. Get yourself ready for some morning action." She suddenly remembered, adding, "Your cell buzzed a few times, by th'way."

She disappeared out of the room and I checked the phone that I had left in silent mode. Three missed calls from Alice. Weird. I dialed her number.

"Dante! Have you seen Gabriel?"

Instead of giving her a hard time for not even saying hello, her tone worried me so I cut to the chase. "No. Is something wrong?"

"I—maybe I'm overreacting. Yesterday was our anniversary and he left a bit upset because..." Alice's pause was uncomfortable, but I could guess what happened. Gabriel was the perpetual horn dog, and Alice had no sex drive. He surely had assumed he'd get some fantastic sex due to the anniversary. Poor guy.

"Yeah, well, whatever the reason... So, he's upset?"

"He's not answering my calls since yesterday. I called around midnight to check on him."

That would've been normal from anyone else, but Gabriel worshipped the ground Alice walked on. I had never seen such a devoted boyfriend, so it was strange. Not alarming, but unusual. "Maybe he's not hearing the phone or cell phone or something. Have you gone to his place?"

"I'm on my way there." Her tone was nearing panic.

"Ok, I'll make a few calls. If anything, we're supposed to meet later today, so I'll let you know. You worry too much, Alice." I tried a soothing tone in my voice.

"Thanks," she hurriedly said, before hanging up.

I turned around and Trish was there, looking at me inquisitively—two glasses of orange juice in her hands—wearing only panties. My member stirred slightly when she offered me one of the glasses and bent forward slightly.

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah, a friend and his girlfriend had some fight and she's looking for him. I'll just have to check around quickly. The dork is probably asleep or something," I said, as I scrolled down through my phone's contacts. I selected one, hit the green button to call, gulped down some juice, and left the glass on the nightstand. I signaled the phone so Trish would know that I was about to make a call. She left her glass on the same nightstand, and her eyes shone with malice. She pilfered the phone away from my hand and activated the speaker, putting it right beside our glasses.

Trish dismissively got rid of the sheet covering my nude body and lowered her head towards me. "I talked so much about flavor and didn't get to taste y'yesterday. So...be quiet while I work." By then, I was aware of her steadfast ways, so I didn't even bother to reply and braced myself for—

Her tongue began from the base of my cock and slowly trailed a wide path all the way towards the head. I was hard in no time. Her mouth sucked on my cock lovingly while I barely heard the phone attempting to connect the call.

She made some wet, smacking sound when she focused her attentions on the tip. Somebody picked up on the other end of the line and the usual greeting came.

"M-hmmm?"

"Hey, honey, how are you?" I asked. Trish froze, my cock lodged halfway in her mouth.

"Hun! I was thinking about you," said the male voice on the other end, dripping with overacted love.

Trish stared, dumbfounded, but then a third voice chipped in, further away.

"Dante, are you still trying to steal my man?" A faraway female voice, her tone was one of a grown-up, amused, witnessing immature boys playing.

"Of course not, Maria. You're my bro! And I do follow the code. Bros before hoes." I smiled at Trish, who understood that we were just being idiots, my friends and I. She didn't understand how unusual it was for anyone to witness this exchange. She rolled her eyes, exhaling through her nose, then shrugged and went back to sucking me softly. My back tensed.

"Heyyy! I'm hurt," the male voice said, "and she didn't hear that, by the way."

Trish sucked on the head again, a bit harder than before and I tried not to gasp.

"Pan, have—" I had to breathe in again. Whatever she was doing with her tongue, that was the stuff of legends. "Have you heard anything about Gabriel?"

"No, actually, Alice just called a few minutes ago," he said.

Trish quickly moved her tongue, and I couldn't prevent a small moan from being uttered.

"You ok?" Pan asked.

"I'm—oh—I'm ok."

Trish suddenly started bobbing her head up and down my length. I made the mistake of looking at her and saw my shaft glistening with her saliva. I groaned. Her pretty lips made a sudden obscene sound when she came up for air. She then dove back in, sucking me noisily and sloppily. Just how I liked it.

"Holy shit!" Pan, just like any man with some experience, knew the sounds of a blow job. "You are something, Dante. Anyway. See you at the LUG meeting?"

"Yeah...call Alice if...call Alice if something comes up..."

Pan hung up muttering something about a lucky dog.

Trish started jacking me off with one hand. The other one caressed my balls for a second but thought about it twice. It continued its path downwards until it cupped my ass and she pulled herself down on my cock.

"Oh, shit...want to make me cum? Here."

I placed both my hands on her head and started directing her movements up and down, my hips moving on their own accord. She jacked me off faster. My head fell back as she continued with her sucking, and she moaned. Trish enjoyed giving head like nobody's business. She was so good I was about to cum. I didn't know if she was in a rougher mood, so I skipped the name-calling.

"Swallow it—nnngh," I ordered her as I pumped, feeling my balls contract against my body as a final warning sign.

I felt the surge of energy as cum was forcefully delivered into Trish's waiting mouth. She happily and lustfully went at it, with anxiousness, as I emptied my balls, groaning as my thick semen was hungrily devoured by her.

Finally, I went limp.

"Mmmmh," she said appreciatively as the last drops of my essence left my body, not leaving any evidence to escape her mouth.

I looked at Trish and pulled her up, so her head would be level with mine. "That was really nice." My fingers explored her body.

"What's LUG?"

I snorted; she had caught that even being busy. "My friends," my only true friends, "Pan, Gabriel, and I are called the 'Last Unlikely Gentlemen' by Maria, Pan's girlfriend. She says we're similar in many ways, and nobody would expect us to be as we are. There's also Ralph and my brother, who aren't part of the official deal, but are welcome. And since gentlemen are disappearing..."

"You're weird."

"You have no idea."

My hands had been idly running on her skin and I decided to test my digital dexterity bestowed by harp playing. Tapping her torso with my fingers, alternating which one touched, my right hand started traveling down her tanned body. Then I went up almost with a drumming motion, but with my fingers in order just like when you do arpeggios, until I found the lower border of her breast. I tentatively touched for a fraction of a second and pulled my fingers back, over and over again, to get her sensitized enough. Closing in spiraling motions as I neared her nipple. Right before I touched it, however, I skipped to the other side of her torso and I repeated the whole routine, teasing her.

"I'm wet already," she whined.

"As if I didn't know. You love to go down on me."

"Then what are you doing?!"

"Teaching you some patience, Kid," I teased her, but appeased simultaneously, "you'll enjoy learning this."

My hands snaked between her legs and I began by touching several areas that I knew weren't that sensitive. After that, I applied some pressure on her inner thighs and walked my fingers up her mound, still perfectly shaven. Not that I minded hair, but if she wanted it that way, I supported her.

I looked at Trish's face and she seemed to be ready to slap me due to the impatience. My index finger penetrated her, then my middle finger. She was hot and there was no resistance for me, wet as she was. My left hand went up to her chin, I decided against it, moved it down to her breast. Then my playing began.

While not thinking about the folkloric song Siquisirí, I applied the same technique of fingering, my right hand between her legs doing the melody. My thumb flicked her clit every now and then—my index and middle fingers sank and started massaging her from the inside with alternating rhythms—my ring finger sliding slightly as if changing chords, but caressing her nether lips. Since the little finger is normally not used in harp playing, I decided to do the same, the rest of my fingers being far more dexterous.

My left hand massaged her breast softly, my fingers doing different motions from my other hand, her nipple being teased from different directions. I kissed her hungrily to capture her moan with my mouth. Her body became heavier as she leaned against me while I played her like the most beautiful instrument I had had my hands on.

She squirmed when my digits found a sequence that made her respond better and I did it over and over again, each time increasing the tempo. My left hand found her other breast and she was trembling as I went as fast as I could, feeling her tensing up slowly.

Undoubtedly she was enjoying it, but I believed I could pay more attention to her clit, so my fingers withdrew slightly from her. I could almost feel Trish's disappointment, but it didn't last long. Once I had a free knuckle out of her on my index finger, I kept doing my fingering motion; however, my palm moved differently. Just like when you're attempting to get a harmonic tone out of a string, the side of my thumb applied pressure on her clit. I did this motion so fast I was certain my hand was about to become a blur.