The Ex-Lovers Ch. 06

Comments are welcome. All characters are fictional and cannot help themselves from being what they are.

* * *

The bottle of beer Hannah had been nursing was resting on her lap, on the hem of her short pleated skirt. The beer was warm by now and still only half-empty. Long blue swirls of hair, a wig, fell over her shoulders, reminding her that she was still in costume.

Andrew had on an olive green cardigan over a white V-neck tee, half ironic and half preening his intellectual plumage. He didn't know art or books nearly as well as he pretended, but he kept up well enough. Anyway, he obviously liked pop culture and was probably better with electronic devices than he realized.

He was cute, with a strong, stubbly jaw, wavy golden blond hair and a hint of old school cologne over a lean, hard frame. Picking the label off the beer and nodding absently at whatever he was talking about, Hannah found herself thinking: He's nice.

She noticed she wasn't angry anymore.

The conversation had drifted far away from her costume and the soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture science-fantasy series she'd taken it from. That had been Andrew's pretext to get her up to his room: to look at his complete collection of first editions, and see the trailer in HD. Then they talked about films, books, and books turned into films. And music, and technology.

He'd played a mellow after-party mix on his speakers across the room using a connection from his phone. Then he showed off an app that could turn on and off the bright overhead light, and the soft, low key light on his crowded bedside table. Naturally...the overhead light went off, and the warm golden glow of the light on the bedside table picked out golden flecks in his dark stubble.

They were sitting on his bed (where else, the floor?), just talking, and a smirk played at Hannah's lips as she realized she wasn't angry anymore. Her beer was warm and her boyfriend had ditched her, but she was with a cute guy who was kind of interesting, and she felt all right.

When the cute girl beside him on his bed smiled at his stupid joke, he didn't hesitate. He kissed her quickly, a peck on the lips, and got up before she could protest. "I'm going to grab a couple more beers for us, yeah? Back in a minute."

Hannah pulled her phone off a hook on her utility belt. (Perfect costume, right? She was strongly considering just wearing the utility belt from now on.) Ben hadn't called or texted. He'd been a fucking bastard, and she wasn't going to contact him first. He could figure out what he wanted on his own.

She held the phone up and took a selfie, smirking up at the camera. No fake looks, no stupid pose; like looking in the mirror, it was face she kept back for pictures only she would see.

Ben was making her wait and she was tired of it.

Either way, she'd need to get out of here-just leave—soon. Hannah suspected she should have left already, but another beer sounded nice, and she liked talking to Andrew. Then again, she could leave, go downstairs, talk to Andrew and have another beer, but...

But what? she asked herself.

But: she was enjoying the quiet. The party was a distant thrum of muted bass beneath the streaming music, the cracked door and all the creaky wood architecture between Hannah and the party below.

But: Ben hadn't bothered to apologize yet. Either he would or he wouldn't, and it wasn't fair for him to abandon her at a party and expect her to sit in a corner and be miserable.

But: Andrew's room was warm and comfortable, filled with books on shelves and prints on the walls, with a laptop glowing in the corner, music playing, soft ambient light and another beer on its way.

Hannah unbuckled her utility belt and slung it over a bedpost beside her, then took off her blue wig and put it on top of the same bed post. She shook out her dirty blonde hair with her fingers, unbuttoned her vest and crawled up onto the bed to lay back on the pillow—knee high leather boots and all.

Andrew tapped on the door with an unopened bottle of beer. "Here we are—"

His voice stopped short as he took a moment to appreciate what he saw: a cute woman laying on his bed in knee high leather boots, her ankles crossed. While her pleated skirt rode up high on his comforter, revealing a fair amount of thigh below, the hip still slung so low that he could still see a lot of midriff between the skirt and the lower part of the white A-shirt she had on underneath the now-open vest.

"Beer?" Andrew asked, offering it to her with a bottle opener. He came around to the side of the bed as he opened one for himself.

"Thanks. Would you mind opening it for me?" Hannah said, propping herself up on one elbow. She turned onto her side, and her skirt draped itself over her hips. Andrew couldn't help but realize he could have seen up her skirt if she'd done that when he was standing by the door.

Andrew gave her the open beer, then put the other one on the floor beside the bed.

Hannah's pouty lips circled around the neck of the bottle. Looking him in the eye, she took a swig. "Ah, thanks. Drink?"

"Thanks." He took a drink. "So. Where were we?"

Hannah smiled. "Something about your favorite comic book action movie."

"No..." Andrew said. "I mean, yes, obviously three perfect movies is a hell of a lot more important than cranking out as many product placements as you can, but I meant—"

He didn't hesitate. He moved in, and found her soft lips, with a light scent of cocoa butter just lingering behind the taste of the import beer, meeting his own. She gasped slightly as she committed, surprised as much at her reciprocation as at his sudden kiss.

Then came a second kiss and a third. Her lips parted and he cocked his head to let his tongue dart in.

Hannah was the first to break the embrace. Andrew opened his eyes and saw hers closed in front of him. She touched her forehead to his and put her hand on his shoulder. "Andrew," she said. "Thanks for waiting with me but...I should go."

Admiring her lying beside him, Andrew kissed her again. His hand moved up to cup her left breast beneath her costume vest. Her eyes fluttered, but she still kissed him back. Then, very naturally, her hand fell to his waist. They kissed again. Hannah's hand slid to his crotch, putting her palm up against the front of his jeans. He was hard already.

An electromagnetic pulse burned out every system in Andrew's head. All he could do was crane his neck to kiss her again and again as she pulled away, and her palm pushed back against his chest.

"I'm sorry," said Hannah. "I can't do this. I'm with someone."

In the distant real world, she took a swig of beer, gathered her things and walked out the door.

* * *

"It's just a fantasy," said Ben. "I trust you."

* * *

Hannah opened her eyes, took the bottle between her and Andrew and gulped a healthy swig of beer.

"I have a boyfriend," she said again. "He's probably downstairs."

"He's not," said Andrew. He took a drink of the beer and set it on the night stand. "Remember..." Andrew kissed Hannah again. "I saw him walk out. He wasn't downstairs when I went and got the beer."

Hannah bit her lip. "I should wait for him."

Her lips were wet with drink as Andrew kissed her. "Sure," he agreed. "I'll wait with you, right here." His hand slipped under her vest to cup her breast in the A-shirt. She was wearing a thin underwire bra—blue lace with a cup size on the smaller side of medium. His thumb traced over her shirt, along the bra beneath, until he felt a crinkling nipple.

Hannah gripped Andrew's shoulder tightly as he massaged her breast. "He's been gone so long. What if he thinks I left without him?"

"It might be a long wait. You should get comfortable."

"Oh yeah?" asked Hannah. "You're getting pretty comfortable already." Then Andrew's heart raced as Hannah, very tentatively, kissed him.

"Mmm, yeah," replied Andrew. "I like that." They lay face to face on the bed, heads sunk into the pillows, kissing each other. Hannah's eyes closed slowly, and Andrew explored the curve of her body. His hand wandered around to her shoulder and pulled her closer.

Hannah's arm was tucked between them. Her left hand—the hand that had held him back—now clutched onto his tee shirt and pressed into his chest muscles.

Andrew's fingertips traced along her triceps, then doubled back across the hemmed edge of her A-shirt and the band of her bra beneath. He felt the warmth of her body under the vest, and the rise of her hip turned toward him. Then his fingers found bare flesh between her shirt and skirt, and spread out over the small of her back.

Hannah's lips parted, and her nimble tongue searched him out. His right hand pulled her toward him, holding her in his arms, and her breath was hot on his cheek.

Her body arched toward him, pressing her stomach up against him, and as she turned, his hand naturally followed the curve of her motion, sweeping over the top of the woolen skirt, feeling her cute ass underneath, and down along her leg. His hand now cradled the back of her thigh, and pulled her knee up onto his hip.

One of her heavy leather boots was resting on his leg, and the pleats of skirt fell open and away from her slightly. He could feel their mutual excitement growing. With her thigh resting on top of him, he was already lying between her open bare legs.

"Andrew," she sighed. "This is so wrong. Ben's probably downstairs right now, looking for me."

"I don't think he'll find us," said Andrew. His hand slid back up the warm, naked flesh of her thigh, and slipped beneath her skirt. He savored the feel of her leg all the way up to her bottom. She had on cotton boy shorts, practically painted onto her body.

He cupped her bottom in his hand and devoured her with kisses. She shuddered and took over, kissing his lips and cheek, her eyes shut tight.

Then, just under the music, there came a small sound. Hannah probably thought it was a normal creak of people moving around in an old house, but Andrew recognized it as one of the floorboards outside his room.

He cracked his eye, and glanced at the door. It was hanging slightly open, having never been latched properly. Through the small crack he saw a woman with short dark hair, standing stock still in the shadows of the dark hallway, half backlit by the light from the stairwell behind her. Her eyes were glittering with discovery.

"What if we get caught?" Andrew asked.

* * *

"What do you mean?" asked Hannah.

"You said the door was open a little, and you ran into Rachael when you were leaving. She would have caught you anyway. Naughty girl."

"Oh, yeah."

"So...?"

"Hm...sounds exciting. But not this time. Not just yet."

* * *

Hannah opened her eyes to look at Andrew and her smile turned wicked. "You think we'll get caught?"

Andrew kept his eyes locked with the woman in the doorway as he moved his hand to the top of Hannah's knee high belt and began to loosen the first buckle, then the second. Hannah rolled onto her back and pulled her vest over her shoulders, exposing her erect nipples through the thin material of her bra and undershirt.

"Yeah, Andrew," she said. "Get them off me."

Andrew slid off the bed, pulling Hannah with him by the heel of her boot. Her undershirt slid backwards, exposing her firm belly up to her ribcage. The pleated blue skirt rode up around her hips, and only just barely stayed in place over Hannah's crotch. Andrew glimpsed a flash of her panties just barely peeking out.

She helped Andrew unbuckle her other boot, and then, with her legs on either side of his body, Andrew pulled down the zippers at the same time and pulled the boots off of her raised calves and outstretched feet.

The woman in the doorway had disappeared into imaginary shadows. Distant footfalls descended the wooden staircase.

Beneath Hannah's boots she wore tall mustard yellow socks. Hannah pulled up the tops, smoothed her skirt in front of her and let her legs fall back to the bed. Andrew stood admiring the muscular line of her bare inner thigh curving down to her flexed calves.

With both hands, Hannah unlooped his canvas belt and pulled him forward by its ends.

Andrew didn't know where to start. His hands shook as he pushed Hannah's shirt and bra over her breasts and kissed her creamy skin. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent as he licked her erect nipple; the warm fragrance of vanilla blossom and cocoa butter intoxicated him.

Hannah's legs hugged his sides and she lifted his shirt with her foot. Her fingers played with a curl of hair behind his ear. Still kissing her breasts and leaning up against the bed, his hands moved down beneath her skirt and found the delta between her legs. There was heat and eager wetness waiting for him.

Hannah looked down at the curly hair on the head of the near perfect stranger kissing her bare breasts and fingering her panties. She cradled his head in her arms, and played with the tangle of locks. He wanted her badly; she could tell he'd chosen her practically from the moment she'd walked in the door.

Her costume had drawn secretive looks all night, but nothing untoward with Ben there beside her. It had only taken Andrew a few minutes to approach her after Ben walked out the door... So was this fate? Was she bound to let Andrew have her? She knew he would, but she could scarcely believe it.

Andrew clutched the waistband of her panties and pulled them toward him with a little bit of force. A sudden cool bellow of air hit her exposed flesh and goose bumps rose up on her nearly naked body. In the next moment, Andrew's fingers began to circle his clitoris.

"Shit," said Andrew. "You shaved your pussy." Only a very small tuft of hair was left, just at the top. She'd waxed the rest.

"Ohh, yeah..." Hannah moaned, feeling the stranger gently caress the intimate triangle between her legs. "You like it?"

Andrew said nothing. Hannah's legs came to rest on his shoulders. Curly hair tickled the inside of her thighs, and his fingers gave way to his warm tongue and soft lips.

His tongue circled her clit, and then dove between her labia, tasting her and curling up beneath the hood of her vulva. He kissed her pussy, moaned and murmured her name. "Hannah, you're beautiful," he said. "I'm going to make you cum."

"Just fuck me," she said. "We don't have long."

Hannah twisted herself away from him and sat upright on the bed. Her shirt and bra rested atop her breasts, and the black vest draped down like a proscenium around her torso, to the skirt splayed around her hips. Her panties were gathered around her knees, just above her socks.

Her prospective new lover was kneeling beside the bed, looking up at her.

She could either fuck him and have fun, or she could get her stuff and go.

"So, Andrew," she asked with a wry smile, "are you sure you're ready to fuck another man's girlfriend?"

Andrew stood up and pulled off his shirt and sweater in one deft motion, revealing a skinny but muscular frame, with just a hint of definition on his abs and the underfed ribs of a college student.

Hannah laughed, and swayed her ankles. Her panties jostled loose and fell to the floor. "Sit down on the bed," she said.

Andrew took her place on the bed, as she kicked her underwear beneath the bed and stood in front of him. "Will you...dance a little?"

"Yeah?" smiled Hannah. "A private dance?"

"Yeah. Just for me."

The music was slow and rhythmic, mellow and perfect for seduction. She took hold of the beat and began to sway, rocking her hips from side to side and tilting her feet and ankles on the floor.

The bulge in Andrew's pants gave an excited throb.

Hannah turned her back to him, still swaying, and slowly dropped her vest behind her, revealing the lifted A-shirt and the small of her back. Her body was still slightly tan; she had no tattoos and her skin was supple.

She glanced back at Andrew, and the side of her breast came into view. Her nipple was silhouetted against his bedroom wall.

"Take it off."

Hannah turned back to him, walked to the side of the bed, and swiveled herself around to rest just over on Andrew's lap. She sat gently on his lap, rocking slowly on his bulge as she crossed her arms over her chest and pulled off her A-shirt. Then, just as rhythmically, she pulled her arms out of the straps of her bra.

"Unhook me," she said. In a quick, practiced move, Andrew opened Hannah's bra, and instantly it fell away. She turned and kissed him, and then caressed his cock through his jeans.

With one arm around his shoulders, stroking his hair, Hannah kept kissing his lips as her breasts pressed against his torso. With her other hand, she unsnapped his jeans, pulled open his zipper, and pushed aside his boxers to get his dick in her hand.

"Oh yeah," Andrew moaned. "Fuck yeah, stroke it."

"You like that?"

Hannah was jerking him off, her breasts jiggling up against his body. She broke their kisses and leaned back on his lap, watching his mouth open in a wide gasp. He was about as hard as he could get, burning hot and a pretty good handful.

If it had been Ben, she would have sucked him off and swallowed his cum.

But this wasn't Ben, was it?

"You like that?" she whispered again.

"Yeah," Andrew gasped.

"You like getting a handjob from a girl you just met?"

"Yeah."

"A girl with a boyfriend?"

"Yeah."

"You want me to be a slut for you?"

"God, Hannah—"

"Say it."

"You're a good little slut for me."

"Fuck yeah. What do you want your little slut to do?"

"Suck it. Suck my dick."

Hannah's movement slowed to a tight caress, feeling pre-cum leak from the tip of Andrew's hard dick. With her other arm around his shoulder, she pulled Andrew's mouth to hers and kissed him, feeling his tongue in his mouth—the warmth of his chest—their heartbeats pounding in forbidden excitement.

Then she shook her head and whispered in his ear, "I won't. The only cock I'll suck is my boyfriend's." She kissed him again.

Hannah stood up and massaged her breasts, letting her nipples poke between her fingers. Andrew took over, stroking his dick as he watched Hannah touch herself for him.

She dropped her hands to the hem of her skirt and lifted it up, revealing the crease of her neatly waxed vulva below. She pushed her pussy up toward his dick, touching their skin together.

"I won't come," offered Andrew.

Hannah was actually blushing as she shook her head. "Uh-uh," she said. "But don't worry. We're going to have a good time."

With that, Hannah unzipped the back of the skirt and let it fall around her ankles.

All she was wearing was a blue ribbon around her neck, Ben's silver ring, and her yellow knee-high socks. Her dark blonde hair framed her face as she caressed her body.

"You can't cum in me...but I want you to cum...all over me." Her hands stroked over her flat stomach, sweeping up from her pussy.

"That what you want?" growled Andrew. "You want a side piece to cum on your hot body?"

Hannah lifted her breast toward her tongue, though she couldn't quite reach. Andrew kept stroking his dick, watching her. Looking down at herself, she smiled and nodded. "If I have to be a whore to get it, I'll do it...I want to be your whore."

Andrew struggled to push his jeans down. Hannah knelt and grabbed his belt loops, gathering the denim in her hands and pulling it off of him. Her mouth gave a few small kisses to the side of his hard shaft, then kissed his sac, his abdomen, and his bulging tip.

She looked up at him, made eye contact, and swallowed his entire length. Her warm mouth engulfed him, and he felt her tongue swirling around his shaft until he touched the back of her throat. Hannah moaned as her face turned red, and slowly pulled away.

She wiped her mouth with the heel of her palm, and kissed his dick again. "Hmm," she said, smirking at him with watering eyes. "Bad habit. Now lay back on the bed."