Red X: Urban Legend

Elissa had the most beautiful lips imaginable. They unveiled the most precious of smiles, and spoke things that Roland locked into his heart forever. When he looked at those lips, he always saw a wise, understanding kindness. She always knew something, even if it was wordless. Her lips made all roses, and all hearts, and all poems meaningless. Her lips kept something subtle, something like the divine touch seen by people of faith. They held the beauty of life. She held that riddle, and expressed it in her lips. Her quiet, knowing smile.

"And so... so he went all hippie on me, after being a respectable badass. Poor Walt. I don't know when it happened."

"Mehh. Talent wasted. Sad to lose good cynics, that way," she agreed, bringing her cup to her face. She joined her mouth to the mug, and hot coffee swallowed silently down her throat.

She smacked her lips faintly, and asked:

"So you knew him... when did you last see him, anyway?" She asked with a slightly pursed mouth, expecting a practical answer.

"Uhh," Roland began, "quite a ways back. Maybe a decade. I was supposed to go to a private reunion, two years ago - just a few of us. Just him, myself, a few other guys... But I couldn't get there. Recovering, at the time."

Her brows were long, and slim. They tensed downward.

"Hmm," she added, with concern, "I hope it was nothing serious."

"Well, to tell the truth... it was. Kinda a life decision." He smiled, in memory.

"In fact," he continued in a lower voice, "you can interpret that a few ways. I was doing wetwork. I had to make a tough call. I took a bullet to the chest. Annnnd... now, at least, a loose end is tied-off. In the end, it was all good." He tipped his head left and right, and took a drink.

She stared at him.

"So... what was that about?"

He nodded, and explained:

"A life decision. Me, and a former Eastern-European crimelord. You'd understand. Some loose ends that are pretty-much cauterised, now. Remember? You and me? We're good, Elissa. We're clear.

"Responsibility. It was responsibility, and protecting one's own." Roland lived this, even taking it to personal extremes. You could say it was close to home, if you meant the bullet next to his heart.

"Wait - waitwait a second. When did you do this?" She was surprised and suddenly very involved. She and Winters took down a Latvian crimelord, shortly after they met.

"Uhh... Two years back. After you and I did that Latvian kingpin. Right?"

Her eyelids pulled wide in shock.

"R-... Roland," she began, "no-one told me... No-one told me that you..." Elissa wore a sudden mask of fear.

"What? Told you what?"

He looked at her quizzically, and shrugged.

She looked resolute, and set her mug on the table with a solid thump.

Her eyes bunched tight. Her head dropped a little.

She articulated clearly, and forcefully:

"Selene told me. Told me something. Two years ago. She said you told HER, first. She said you left. That you couldn't be tied-down, and you met with some old flames in Italy. That's where you went, two years ago."

"Huh?" Roland stuttered. "W- how-... W-... I what? What in the actual FUCK, Elissa? What the hell was she talking about?"

Elissa took a huge breath. After she let it out, she looked firmly into his eye.

"She said you left in secret, to avoid telling me. I assumed you went to visit some little friends in Rome."

Elissa sneered, and fluttered her hand dismissively. Little friends. Girls. Buncha sluts.

"Selene said this was to be kept in absolute confidence..." Elissa fumed, and stared into space.

"Ya, 'cuz... it isn't true. Selene lied, and didn't want to get caught. 'Confidence,' my ass..." Roland dropped his voice like a rock. He vowed to immediately strangle Selene without so much as a hello.

"NO," he declared, staring back firmly. "No, I did not deceive you, Elissa. I did NOT take off, leaving you for anybody else. Though, that does sound like something a vicious, jealous person would say."

"She... Selene was jealous?"

"Of COURSE," he blustered. "Of course she was jealous. I 'talk' with Selene. That's it. She's an acquaintance. And I adored you with my LIFE. I loved you, Elissa. I was NUTS about you, and always have been. Of course she'd be jealous... of how much I loved you."

Elissa shook her head.

"No, wait a sec - so you never said that to Selene, in private? She made it up? You, running off to some girlies in Italy was a crock of bullshit?"

Roland sat back, laying out the truth.

"No. I'd never ditch you for Miss Whoever in the friggin' Mediterranean. No. Never.

"God. I wouldn't trade you for the actual Mediterranean, Elissa..."

He meant it, and she knew it.

"I mean... I was bleeding on a floor for half-an-hour with a gunshot wound, 'cuz I cleared the LAST DAMNED THREAT that would ever come after you. THAT'S what I was doing. Not boinking Italian chicks.

"I didn't tell you anything, for fear of leaks. I didn't want you endangered. Ever.

"And now it's done. And you're clear."

There was a stunned silence.

"So I never cheated on you. I never went tomcatting in Europe. I went after your last enemies, and I fucking wiped them out. They're fucking DEAD.

"I kept it quiet, so no-one would stalk you or hurt you." He raised his eyebrows, hoping she'd see the truth behind it all.

It was under-the-radar, not 'behind her back.'

He saw tears jiggle on her lashes. After several seconds of dead air, one of them patted onto the table.

"So," she began, "all this time, you loved me. And respected me. And never planned to trick me in any way. Regardless of what Selene said."

"Fuck no. I absolutely adore you, Elissa. That's all. That's everything."

"But... for two years, I treated you like... I shut you out, like a..." Her chin shook.

"Like nothing," he said, "and I still love you. I don't know what goes on in your life. I don't guess. I'd never pry - and I love you. If you shut me out, I don't know all the reasons... and I love you, Elissa.

"It's love. It doesn't go away."

She lifted her hands over her mouth. Her eyes crammed shut.

"Roland? I love you too... but I thought you were... I thought... that you left, and..."

"You were caught in the lie of some jealous, meddlesome bitch. Lies hurt people. I'm sorry to hear it happened."

"But," she quavered, "all this time? All your... I mean, all your... suffering? We were apart for two years! All that, over a lie?"

"And I still love you." His voice was a warm tide. It rose over her, and overpowered everything that was spoken.

She inhaled several times. She was trying to jump-start her broken words.

"I love you too," she whimpered.

She grabbed his hand over the table, and dropped her head.

"I need..." she began. "I need to... need to tell you. Show you... something. How I feel. How I've felt."

She lifted her head again, and clenched his hand harder.

"M-my..." she struggled. The tears fought with her. They were winning, for a few minutes. Her words faltered. Breathing in and out was tug-of-war.

She swallowed, and gradually sat straight.

"My place."

Her blue eyes reached into him, and demanded. No lies, no layers... just real, intimate self. Her eyes said "Now."

She pulled him up by the hand, and led him from the café.

Chapter Four: The True

Her easy, graceful stride was a little faster. Deliberate. Elissa still hadn't let go of his hand. At times she squeezed it, like she wouldn't let him go - wouldn't let him go again. Ever.

In her apartment, it smelled like dirty laundry. It was mostly tidy, with a few rough edges from single living.

The white noise of traffic sighed through the window. The drapes were pulled - they swayed like trees. The wind moved them idly.

Her sparse belongings all had her character, as if they wore her perfume. Everywhere he turned, it said Elissa. Everything she owned, everything she touched - it was Elissa haiku. Everything pulled his heartstrings.

The door clicked shut, and she turned on him.

She descended like snow - gently, slowly, but with inevitable gravity.

Elissa's sweet lips opened, and glided up to meet him.

Elissa and Roland kissed. For the first time in years, they kissed. Her tender mouth rose up, and took his.

For two years, she thought he was a playa. She thought he skipped town and fucked a bunch of random women. She assumed he didn't love her... not the way she loved him. Her personal walls went up. Professionally, she went dark. She disappeared.

For two years, he thought she'd fled. He couldn't tell her about his mission, and by the time he'd healed, she was gone. Maybe her walls went up - he didn't know. But she couldn't love him, if she just disappeared like that. Could she...? Where was she?

Elissa's hands went to his shoulders, and drifted down his chest. Her hands slowly slipped down his muscle, like the spring melt on stone. Her white fingers trickled over every curve, every firmness. She relished every inch of his body.

Hardened muscle, like oak. Military tattoos, and then some others... inked icons from god-knows-where. Scars - really fucked-up scars that he wore proudly, because the other guy was beyond fucked-up. The other guy probably had nothing left to scar.

Winters was like a damned jackal. He was the laughing wolf. He was lean, smart, fast, and a killer. His physique had to keep up with him, so it trimmed down to its harder core. His body hadn't been killed, yet - it was only made stronger. Hundreds of times.

Elissa knew he was a thief, just like her, but he specialised in danger. He juggled death with his bare hands. He stole lives from other men. Roland danced with bullets and fists, and he was an artist.

His body, standing right in front of her, won every contest of survival. Every single one. It was still here. Roland Winters was a prize, himself.

She pulled him further inside, and moved him toward her bedroom. Her little tongue crept from between her teeth, and tested his lips and the wet of his mouth. Everywhere she licked, she loved. She explored his kiss while their saliva squeaked. Tiny sounds fell loose. Elissa kept nodding and sucking - their faces made love.

"About Selene," he murmured, "are you okay? Do you have a grudge, maybe?" He turned to kiss her throat, so she could respond with her mouth.

"Maybe," she sighed, shuffling through her waistcoat. She thumped her Makarov pistol on the coffee table, and tossed her coat over it.

"I'll follow your lead, for now," he chuckled, and pushed her against the bedroom door.

She worked at his clothing. Roland helped her. Yes, he thought to her - YES. All of me. My heart, and everything bound to it. Yours.

She whipped away his shirt, and spread her hands on his skin. A hunger woke inside her. Something under her teeth growled - it seethed.

But those tattoos... they growled back. They were stormclouds echoing his past. Inks of legendary stories. This one - something in Urdu, scrawled over two curved knives. Next to it, there was a passage of poetry scripted in Arabic. Beneath this, there was clean, ritual scarring and some faded lettering in Thai, and three marks like steps. Then, a larger wreath had an axe in it, with elaborate Gaelic and a winged knife. In some places, long lines had been removed, and simpler laws took their place. They looked like national boundaries, redrawn. That might have been the real-life story.

She could read only three things from his arm, and less than half of his chest. These were modern-day totems and cave paintings - like secrets of the druids, but from our century.

They were a darkness that he wore, because of their meaning. Someone carved ink into his body to carry these legends. He'd carry them forever. They were HIS legends.

He loosened his belt, and took away his pants. Hmm, he thought happily. I'm damned hard... She'll like this.

In her bedroom, it was dark. Unlit. He heard Elissa step back, and he heard the rumple of cloth. An elastic snap of a bra, and the hiss of her satin panties. Then she hugged him close, and he felt Elissa's bare tits press into his body.

"Oh, god..." he exclaimed quietly. Her warm breasts padded on his skin.

She clicked a lighter, and now a candle stood with its waving yellow point.

Roland stood waiting, in his underwear, and Elissa stepped back. She was nude, with her long legs and arms. Her hair swept over her shoulder. Her nipples stood vividly pink. Her belly was tight, making a contoured slit of her belly-button. Below her belly, between her hips, she was softly brunette. Her thighs joined together with her two feminine lips. They were also sweetly brunette.

Again, she pulled him into a kiss. It was a tender song to his mouth - smoothing and pressing, pulling him to intimacy. It was a gentleness with one meaning: purest love.

"Roland?" she righted herself. "I want you to... I want you to love me, in the way you love me. Please..." she backed away, indicating her bed, "please, Roland? Will you show me? Make love to me?"

When he pulled down his boxer-briefs, her eyes swelled open. It was tall with eagerness. She could only stare. Her jaw chewed at nothing, as she stared at his naked cock.

It was like an ancient standing-stone, discovered in the windswept highlands. It was towering, and rigid, and primordial. His penis was natural, and impressively bold. It wanted her. Real, honest craving.

He guided Elissa down to her bed, but then surprised her. He held her legs. He lifted them, as if positioning her, but then hoisted her legs higher. Higher, and over his shoulders.

"Oh - ohmygod, " she panted.

He lifted her legs, raised up her sweet crotch, and licked long and hot into her pink. He began feasting.

Her teeth opened - her face quivered. Roland mouthed on her lovingly. His saliva greeted her tender folds.

He tasted her warm love-bumpers. He slurped them. He licked them wet - oh, he'd missed them. They were cushy lips, like a home for his kisses and nuzzles. Hello, sweet pussy. Let me tongue your plumpness... the warm envelope of skin... salty drool, and pink clam-flesh. Raw, sexual indulgence.

Yes... Elissa's sweet vagina.

He kissed her little plumps, and savoured the salt between them. They were angel-flesh.

So much cum, in Elissa's lovely slit. So much dew and honey. Her lips were hidden, but ready for kissing. Needy for kissing! Her labia were so soft to his tongue...

So good. SO succulent.

When he got Elissa's ripe little clit, he completely came alive. This was the perfect princess inside her two long cushions.

She gasped and could not exhale. Ohh, he loved Elissa's sweet pink pearl. He greeted it with slavering, crazed kisses: Hello, love-jewel! Oh, lick, suck, kiss, lick-lick-lick...

Elissa rolled and grunted, and her arm swatted loosely. Her body seized with tension. Her face bunched tight.

"Cumming..." she grunted urgently.

He sped his tongue over her, till his face cramped.

The cum and spit rattled.

When he was sure she'd been there, and returned, Roland settled her on the bed and squeezed his arms around her. He pulled her heaving chest into his body, and palmed her head up to his face.

Lips on her temple. Kiss to her brow. Kisses into her sweaty hair.

"I love you, Sweet Elissa. The life inside me loves you. Thank you for cumming. Thank you for letting me be with you, when you orgasm. So beautiful..."

The silence was like a curtain. Her first act had completed, and she was perfect.

"I need to... mmm..." She carefully broke away from him. She moved her body apart, to have room to reposition.

She sat up. In the candle's light, her breasts glistened. Her nipples pointed like pink studs. Her ribs were trim and pale.

In the candlelight, her face was flushed. It glided sweetly down to his penis.

Elissa's most beautiful mouth hovered over his erection. Her nimble hand raised it like a mast, and her face settled onto its head.

Those precious lips formed over his penis. They suckled, and then smeared. Her head dipped, and sponged, giving mouth for the length of his cock. Elissa's exquisite lips sucked it. Sealed over it, and slid, and sealed again.

She kissed the sex. Elissa kissed beautiful sex to his penis. Elissa sucked dick with all her unearthly grace.

"Oh yeah..." he groaned. "You suck so well, Sweet Love... Sweetest Elissa. You even suck my... dick... beautifully..."

He realised what he was saying, and how it was often an insult. She made it art.

With her mouth and her beautiful face, she fucked him. She was so pretty. So lovely, and she slobbered for his dick. So beautiful... yet sucking his cum, slurping, oozing, drooling. She tickled her fingertips across his balls - and she moaned. Moaned, as his dick slid through her throat.

Elissa fit a whole penis down her beautiful swan's throat. It was like singing with saliva. It was sex with her mouth, face, and neck.

His cock was a darkened, savage club. It was so full of stiffness, veins swelled on the surface. She wanted this mad, barbaric animal bounding inside her. She hoped her sucking-charms would lure it. She tried to blow him like a siren's song: irresistibly.

She could only think of having him.

She wished for it.

If I lick his skin, and taste all that heavy dick with my mouth, can I have it inside me? Can I suck him, and convince him?

She didn't know this, but she was the most beautiful face he'd seen. She dipped that face over him, and it was a precious offering.

She pulled his mass inside her white neck, and gulped her sleek throat against it. She stroked his penis with slow, forced swallows. She closed her eyes, focusing. She lifted away and breathed.

"Aww," she groaned, "I want to lick your BALLS..."

She jerked him, and lowered down to slurp his testicles. Her tongue travelled deep, and slid back up on a trail of drool.

Roland's balls were his characteristic brazenness. They were power-plants for all the "fuck you" he dished out, every single day. Two of them - always two, so always a backup. They gave the aggressive surge to kill for his country, and the lust to fuck Elissa in her bed.

Mating, or murder.

The Winters Jewels were her favourites, without question.

"Mmm," she hummed, before lapping him widely. Her head bumped upward as she licked.

"Lall, lall, lall, lall..." she smiled, licking over his nuts.

Finally, she kissed him and tidied her mouth. Drool shone broadly on her cheeks.

On her lean arms, she ambled over the bed. She lay down, sweating, and looked to him.

She lifted her knee, and fanned her thigh open.

She opened herself to him.

Elissa lay beside him, expectantly. Her bumping heart made twitches in her naked breasts. Her cute nipples stabbed upward - she was firmly aroused. Perky tits.

She nodded to him. She waved her legs like wings.

"Please," she whispered. "Please."

"Elissa?" he responded. This was fast. He hoped she meant it.

"Mmm," she nodded. "I need you to fuck me. Screw this little pussy. For all those nights we couldn't. I need you to fucking rail me, baby. Show my body what passion is. Sex me. Fuck me, Roland. Fuck me now."

They'd been apart for years. They came together in seconds.

He climbed over her, and she adjusted her legs. She beckoned for him to lie on her... just lie on top, and let her squeeze him inside.

She'd fit him like a silk glove. She knew she would.

His penis hung from him like a missile. Long. Hardened. Pointing to her little pink patch. His dick bobbed, loomed close, then found her. His own pre-cum gobbed out, and slid with hers.

SO MUCH pre-cum, from both of them... The air was scented by lust.

The head pressed into her hot peach. Elissa breathed quickly, in short breaths... she waited for him. Expected him. Elissa waited for him to commit his length into her body.