New Neighbor Pt. 03: Violet's Game

"Morning," Violet purred playfully across my lips, standing on her toes to tease me without a kiss after I had opened my door to her. "Please tell me you made coffee." I hummed in agreement, leaning closer to her, but she lowered herself back on her heels and pulled away from me with a soft smirk. Violet moved around me, and I shut the door before I turned to watch her mock me for my attempt at a more intimate greeting. "So...coffee would be this way?" She pointed into the house, moving towards my living-room. I nodded and followed after her, but I caught up to her, placing either of my hands on her wide hips from behind her to gently halt her quest. Violet giggled as she stopped, leaning back against me. She looked up to see the slightly aggravated expression that had formed on my face with a playful smile. "Fine." She sighed, rolling her eyes as I leaned over her, wrapping myself around her to kiss her gently.

"Good morning." I whispered in the deep, groggy voice between kisses. I was up for hours after she left me last night to contemplate what questions I needed her answers for, and I had woken early in anticipation of her promised game for the morning. There had been a light on in her house when I woke and looked across the street, and it had not taken her very long to come over once I had turned a few lights on of my own while I started my morning routines. I had been pleased to think she had also woken so early in anticipation of her game, but I had been visibly disappointed by her appearance when I answered my door to find her waiting for me in a pair of jeans and a baggy, oversized sweatshirt; by the way she had described her intended game the previous night, I had expected her to wear something sexier.

"I forgot to ask you," Violet sighed, "do you work on the weekends?" I shook my head keeping my face close to hers. "That would be nice, but, sometimes I do have to work weekends, and today is no exception. I have a conference call I need to be on at three, so just keep that in mind." She studied my face for a moment before she smirked again. "Coffee?" She asked, biting her lower lip.

"Addict, much?" I chuckled, releasing her from my grasp to lead the way through my home to the kitchen. "So then, you're originally from New York I hear."

Violet giggled from behind me. "What gave me away?"

"The way you pronounced 'coffee' just now; it's not cough-ee, it's coffee. You've done well to mask the rest of the accent, but if you want to blend in better, you're going to have to learn to pronounce coffee correctly, or that will give you away to anyone." I heard her inhale deeply in appreciation of the aroma from behind me.

"Right," she breathed sarcastically, "I'll get right on that, and start working on those hard a's, so I can sound wicked smart like you." She emphasized the term 'wicked smart'—a regional phrase that I noticed caused unnecessary aggravation to people not originally from the area—and mocked it surprising well for a transplant.

Her wit made me chuckle. "I'm not originally from around here either. I'm from a very small, little no-name town in northern Vermont, but it has been a very long time since I've been back there, and I fear the long-term exposure to the area has corrupted my speech patterns. Stay here long enough, and it'll happen to you as well." I teased her, smiling to myself as I heard her make a small humph noise to disagree with me. "Would you like cream or sugar?" I asked, reaching for the coffee pot.

"Don't you dare taint my coffee with any of that nonsense." Violet sighed without correcting her pronunciations.

"Black, uh? I used to be like that...pro-tip: you're going to regret that decision later in life." I teased her over my shoulder while I poured her a cup of coffee. I turned to hand her the mug, and almost dropped it over the sight that greeted me. Violet had followed me into the kitchen, and she had removed her sweatshirt to reveal that she wore a corset beneath it. I stared blankly as my eyes slowly took in every detail of the black lace draped elegantly over the light blue fabric that complimented her blue eyes beautifully. I took my time memorizing the cross stitch pattern of the thick cord woven up the middle of the corset, and of the ribs of the garment while I tried desperately to ignore my swelling cock approving adamantly over her abrupt change in wardrobe. I smiled as I looked over how the garment forced her waist to synch in, rounding out her large hips, and forcing her large breasts tightly together. "You...are wearing a corset." I stated the fact in a daze, and she laughed at me while she took her coffee from me.

"How astute of you to notice that little fact, yes. Do you like it?" She smirked, and I nodded quickly while she took another step towards me. "I own several different corsets...some under-bust too...perhaps I'll model them for you another time." I swallowed hard, feeling my cock swell uncontrollably over the idea. I was unable to function for a moment, marveling over her extenuated hour-glass frame, and mentally scorning myself for being so disappointed with her attire when I opened my door to her; no wonder she had teased me over my original attempt at a good morning kiss. I felt like an idiot for a moment as I watched her sip from her coffee while she studied me. I felt even more like an idiot as I searched my mind for the questions I had carefully and tediously formulated to ask of her this morning. I could not think of anything other than that corset, and how amazing she looked in it.

"I...um..." I stuttered, bewildered, "...explain the game again." I continued to try to remember my questions as she nodded thoughtfully.

"For each question you ask me that provokes a topic change, a piece of my clothing will be removed. I will answer all of your questions honestly, and expect that any answers that I ask for from you will be equally as honest. You asked me about coffee, and so I removed my sweatshirt...might have been a cheap shot at a waste of a question," Violet shrugged, "but you won't be wasting any more of your questions now, will you?" She teased me sweetly, and I quickly shook my head again.

I stared hard at her for a moment waiting for my brain to begin to function once more. I thought about the previous night: remembering the beautiful, young woman standing before me, straddling my lap and riding my cock while biting my lower lip. I cleared my throat, ignoring the throbbing reactions of my cock during the memory, and trying to think of how I wanted to phrase my question while she waited patiently, sipping at her coffee, and studying my actions. "That thing you do...when you bite my lip...it's not painful...it's gentle and teasing the way you do it." Violet nodded. "Why do you do that?"

Violet thought about my question as she slipped her shoes off, leaving them both tucked under the table she was standing next to. She had looked down, under the table while placing her shoes there, and I was sure she noticed my erect bulge by her mischievous smile she wore when she straightened herself. "I guess it's a combination for me: a sign of affection as well as aggression." I snorted at her answer unable to see how that could be the truth. "Hey, you asked." She mocked me. "I don't know," she shrugged, "it's intimate, but not in a passionate sense. I enjoy the reactions it provokes; especially in you." She smiled knowingly as she put her coffee mug down on the table next to her and reached for the large bulge that had formed in my pants instead.

I sighed as Violet began to massage my confined erection while she drew closer to me, waiting for my next question. My pajama pants were made of a thin flannel material that allowed for her to wrap her fingers around my hard cock as she stroked it gently. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation while I thought about how my actions changed around her when she provoked me with such diminutive gestures. It was as if Violet was able to flip a switch in me, at will, to change me into someone else whenever I was with her.

"That is how you define affection." I spoke my words slowly, when I opened my eyes, to make sure she did not misinterpret my words for another question, and she shrugged again. "So then...the marks...the scratches...the bites...the bruises...are those considered affectionate for you as well?"

Violet laughed softly to herself as she removed her hand from my pajama pants to slowly unbuttoned and unzip her jeans while I watched her. "If I said that they were...in a way...would that be concerning for you?" I took no notice of her question at first; my attention, along with my eyes, was glued to her hands desperate to see what was waiting for me under her covert disguise. Violet hesitated for a moment, waiting for my answer, but after a few moments, she backed away from me, lowered her jeans to the floor, and stepped out of them, leaving them where she stood.

I took a deep breath, looking over the layered, ruffled lace panties that she wore over full length fishnet stockings, but she moved quickly to stand directly in front of me again, instead of allowing for me to gawk at her. Violet looked slightly nervous as she placed her hands against my chest, and slowly slid her hands up and around my shoulders to rest her hands behind my neck. I quickly wrapped my own arms around her, caught off guard by her expression; I had thought this girl to be fearless.

"I view marks as mementos. I enjoy leaving marks on you, and finding them later because I remember how much fun I was having at the time of making them, and it kind of feels like a claim to you in a way: you're mine because of the marks I have left. The same sensation applies in reverse."

"You view the marks left by me on your body during sex, as evidence that you're mine?" Both my head, and my cock felt like they were each about to explode. Random contradicting thoughts began to spin around in my mind as I debated how I felt about her confession; the idea was somehow erotic, but also distressing for me, and yet, I could not deny my physical response even if my mind was warring with itself. I felt her relax in my arms while she continued to study my reaction, and to my surprise, Violet started to laugh as she pressed the front of her body to mine while watching me.

"Don't complicate it more than necessary...I can tell you're thinking too much about what that means instead of just accepting my answer for what it is. That pseudo-palm print of yours on my ass?" She teased and I cleared my throat. "Yes, I found that, and I had a good giggle because of it. I'm pretty sure I remember you had enjoyed yourself while making that...just as much as you enjoyed leaving the bruise on my calf last night. If I recall correctly, you even laughed when you saw that bruise after the fact; now, why do you think, would that be?"

I had not given the idea much thought, but I did enjoy seeing the marks I left on her. Most of the women I had been with, would have scorned me for leaving anything like that on their bodies, and the fact that Violet had not chastised me for either mark, was enticing to a part of me that I had not fully explored before. I had never viewed leaving such mementoes—as she put it—in the same light that she did—at least not consciously—but as I thought about the arguments she gave, and felt my cock respond to her words, I realized I agreed with her.

"Realizing we're not so different?" Violet teased me, grinding her pelvis lightly against my constricted erection, and I laughed unable to think of what to say. "My scratches on your back...do they upset you?"

"No." I answered her without hesitation. A small devious smile found its way to my lips while I processed the rest of what she had admitted to me. "So then..." I searched for the words I needed, "...our relationship..."

Violet rolled her eyes at me. "I thought I had made that clear: I'm not looking for a solid relationship right now." My face sank, and she looked like she took pity on me for a moment, softening her voice as she continued. "I work a ridiculous schedule that does not allow for me to commit to too much outside of work. I don't want to plan dates, or feel pressured to obtain prior obligations, and then feel awful about having to break them when something comes up at work, or any of that crap. Not too many of my co-workers can boost of leading a happy and fulfilling personal life in addition to their work lives, and I don't want to end up as another causality of that environment. I want someone who will allow for me to come and go as I please, to screw around with when we both find the time, but who will also allow for me to keep my independence, and let me lead my own separate life away from them."

"You really were not joking about the whole fuck-buddy thing?" I asked in amazement, and she shook her head. Violet lowered her hands against my chest—I assumed to remove the next article of clothing for my question—but I quickly grabbed each of her hands with my own. I held her hands against my chest while I thought about what she had said. "Am I your only fuck-buddy then?" I scorned her slightly upset over the concept.

She glared at me, taking a deep breath, and exhaling just as deeply to calm herself. "While I appreciate that you feel I am attractive enough to have multiple partners at once," she hissed at me, "I don't sleep around like that. I will barely have time enough for you, but whatever time I do find, would only be committed to you."

"I'm sorry." I breathed, knowing I offended her, and she nodded once to acknowledge my apology as she took another deep breath. "I really didn't mean that...I just..." I could not explain myself to her; I did not know how to. I let go of her hands, and lowered my face to look down at my chest while I tried to think of the right words to express how I felt.

Violet took a step back away from me, turned away from me, and then hooked her thumbs into the sides of her ruffled, lace panties and slowly slid her panties to the floor. I groaned softly while she bent at her waist as she lowered her panties so that I could look over her large, firm ass decorated by her fishnet stockings before she straightened herself, and stepped out of her panties. She did not leave her panties on the floor like she had her jeans; she held them in one hand as she straightened herself and turned back to look at me causing my mind to go blank once more.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend; just a playmate. Nothing elaborate; more random and impromptu. I thought that I had found that in you already, but if that isn't something you're looking for, and it's not something you want, you need to tell me, Gary." She purred seductively while taking a step back towards me.

"Like I could ever say no to you." I laughed without thinking, but she did not join me in my laughter. Instead, Violet looked down at her panties that she held with one hand, and began to pick over the fabric of the garment with her other hand as she waited for me to be serious. I had answered her so quickly that I knew I had answered her honestly, but I thought hard for a moment about her confessions and how quickly I had answered her, and I realized that I was over complicating our situation once again.

Before I met Violet, I wanted someone to spend time with occasionally, without feeling the need to find someone I should commit to indefinitely, but her age had me constantly questioning both of our motives. I might not have agreed with the title of 'fuck-buddy,' but what she was describing was more along the lines of what I was actually looking for, than what a traditional relationship is commonly defined as. I slowly closed the gap between us, raising one of my hands to hold the side of her face, and gently turned her face upward to look at me wondering for how long she would view me is a suitable 'fuck-buddy' before I grew too old for her, or she naturally moved on. I lowered myself over her, and kissed her softly as my answer, not wanting to ask any of the nuisance questions circling my mind for fear of wasting one of my few precious questions left.

"Are you really okay with all of this?" Violet asked to verify my response.

"Yeah...for now, I am." I sighed before I kissed her again, smiling as I felt her gently stuff her panties into the side pocket of my pants. "But...I...um...I really want to ask you something, but at the same time...I would really rather just let it go, and properly enjoy the morning with you." Violet made a small questioning noise, keeping her face close to mine, and becoming impatient for me to continue, she returned her hand to the front of my pants. I thought to stop her to continue our serious conversation uninterrupted, but I knew Violet would eventually have her way, and that I would give in to her regardless. I smiled slightly, appreciating her delicate, but firm strokes while she rubbed her hand back and fourth against the underside of my shaft, and gently teased my cock with her nails through the flannel fabric. "Are you afraid of an actually relationship?" She laughed, disbelievingly, while she shook her head, but she did not let go of my cock.

"Why would you think that?" She teased, but I thought I could see through—what I assumed were—her displacement tactics.

"You're not playing with one of your infantile boys, baby." I breathed, feeling the small wet spot on the front of my pants, that had formed from my pre-cum, rub against my skin as the fabric moved with Violet's gestures. "Damaged goods can recognize damaged goods, and I'm old enough to know that a woman your age asking for a fuck buddy is terrified of commitment because of a prior instance she had suffered."

Violet ceased the movement of her hand, but she kept her hand placed against my cock while I took a deep breath, and forced myself to continue my rant. "I don't doubt that you would prefer your independence, and that you would like some solitude on occasion. But, I do doubt that your schedule is anything more than just a very convenient excuse." She hid her emotions well, but I caught her as she swallowed hard over my suggestion. "I have no intention of just using you to get off when it's convenient for the both of us, but I'm not going to stand here listing off a bunch of promises that I'm sure you've heard in vain several times over, either. You don't want a traditional relationship? That's fine, but don't you dare look at me as just some toy for you play with whenever it suits you because I would never entertain such thoughts for you."

"Are you always so patronizing?" Violet laughed. "Damaged goods, huh? Have women taken advantage of the way you wear your heart on your sleeve, Gary?" I felt myself begin to shake slightly, but with a great amount of effort, I was able to calm myself. Violet nodded. "I see," she breathed lightly, pulling her hand back away from me, "I'm not afraid of commitment or relationships, but neither concept is what I'm looking for at this point in my life. I don't appreciate you talking down to me like that, and no, I don't care how much older you are than me; I will not tolerate you lecturing me like a child. I don't have any daddy issues, and I most certainly am not looking for a sugar daddy-baby girl style connection; just a play-mate. The past couple of days have been exceptionally fun for me," she smiled broadly, keeping on eye on me while she pulled a chair out from under the table, but then sat on the table instead of on the chair, "and I would be very excited over the idea of keeping up this little affair as is."

I suddenly felt rather ashamed of myself; I had thought for certain that I had figured her out, and I imagined that conversation happening more smoothly in my mind. I had not planned to come across as patronizing, but more, sympathetic. I had thought I understood her, and that she would have appreciated my candid acceptance of her reasoning. Violet looked down at the chair waiting in front of her, and then back up at me. I took her cue, and sat in the chair without debate, running my hands over her fishnet stockings wrapped around her long legs dangling off of the table in front of me. "You really can't say no to me, can you?" She teased me lightly in a dark growl that sent a small shiver down my spine, and excited me. I did not answer her at first, taking my time to slowly allow for my hands to travel up over her thighs.