To Call for Hands of Above Ch. 01: Wolf's Teeth

Taken by surprise, the pale girl closed the towel around her. The barest glimpse of the body beneath.

"I - I'm not ready yet," she said, blushing. The corners of the towel tight around her.

Her hair, dry now, seemed so much brighter and lustrous then it had before. Her skin shone. Her eyes glimmered. Hands so delicate, lips so luscious.

"You look beautiful," he said. There was no need to say anything else.

They looked at each other, and both came to understand what was happening. A synchronised motion, so smooth it looked rehearsed. Snag let the towel fall from her body and Cearbhall threw off the robe. The garments fell unnoticed to the floor.

How long they had prepared in secret for this moment, only to begin with a simple phrase at a city tram station.

"I don't want to go home tonight."

Who was it that said that. Cearbhall found he could not remember, but he did remember that something happened. Restlessness. Four-month old agitation. An inconsolable urge to do something, taking hold, and so they did something. A soft kiss beneath the hollow light of a streetlamp. Wild, passionate making-out, safe behind the security-locked door.

Standing, pressing their naked bodies against each other, their hands clinging, stroking, groping. Cearbhall was aware of their contrast. The coarseness of his body hair against Snag's smooth, milky-white flesh. So thin, so thin against his broad shoulders. She had to stand on her toes to reach his lips, and even he had to hunch over to meet her. Her thigh stroked against his. His penis, a good seven inches now erect, rubbed against her belly. Sweat ran and grew sticky, so that their bodies clung to each other.

"I want you to get on your knees," Cearbhall whispered into Snag's ear.

Without a word, Snag moved down his body. Hands on his chest. Pecking her way down with little kisses on his sternum, his navel, his pelvis. On her knees before him, Cearbhall saw only the top of her head, focusing on his alert member. For a moment, she didn't move. Cearbhall wondered if she was nervous. Would have said something until Snag seemed to break out of her trance. Took a breath, and planted a kiss on the tip.

She kissed his cock all over: the glans, the sides, the underside, even raising it up and kissing his balls. Peeling the foreskin back, she ran her tongue all over, wetting it with her drool. All the while, she stroked with a silken touch. So gentle, so delicate. Cearbhall could tell already. Snag was no stranger to sex. No stranger to fellatio. That much she proved when she placed his cock in her mouth.

Only the head first, her lips ahead of the rim of his glans. In her mouth, she caressed the whole tip with her tongue, encircling it. Covering every inch in wet drool. Bobbing her head back and forth. Bit by bit, she went further and further down the shaft.

Just past the head, then half the length.

Three quarters down, her nose brushing the coarse pubic hair.

Then finally she took the entire length, all seven inches enclosed in her mouth.

Cearbhall released a breath. She took it so slow, so well. He stroked her hair, his fingers running through the ebony strands. He could feel her tongue slathering all over his cock, even halfway down her throat as it was.

Snag's hands reached around his hips. She started stroking his thighs, his butt, clutching him with surprising strength. Cearbhall bucked in surprise. His breathing got heavier. His hand, holding Snag's head, grasped with greater urgency. She seemed to understand.

Not missing a beat, Cearbhall began moving Snag's head back and forth along his cock. His hand was soft but assertive. Upping the pace a little at a time. Faster and faster, back and forth. The pressure rose and Cearbhall knew he

was nearing the climax.

A low grunt. Snag understood in an instant. She readied herself, clutching his ass with that grip of hers. His entire length her mouth. It twitched and throbbed inside, the head pointed straight down her throat. Cearbhall clenched his teeth in anticipation. Pressed Snag's head firm against him.

He came a lot. Near to a half-pint of cum spurted from his cock, shooting down Snag's throat and spilling over into her mouth. Cearbhall hunched over her from the force of the ejaculation. His legs shook, threatened to buckle. Snag kept his whole member in her mouth. Catching every drop. Letting nothing spill.

They pulled away. Snag sat on her knees. Cearbhall fell to a sitting position, one knee raised. His legs shook. He stared into space for a while, breathing hard. Then he came back to himself. Looked before him to see Snag swallow the rest of his cum.

"You alright? Sorry, it's been a while since..."

"Don't be sorry, sir. You were excellent."

Sir. Still "sir."

"Sna - egh, Snag?"

"Yes?"

"From here on, I want you to call me Cearbhall."

"OK."

"And I'm going to call you Sylwia."

She blinked. "OK."

Satisfied, he called her over to him. She crawled over on her hands and knees. Her eyes fixed on his. She raised herself up, hands on his knees. Cearbhall looked up at her, not breaking eye contact. A wee smile played on his lips. "Give me another kiss," he said.

Snag's reaction confused him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because...because I just had you in my mouth. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Why would that bother me?"

"Isn't it weird?"

"Weird? Listen dear, I mean this in the best of ways, but you're young. I've been alive a bit longer than you, and I was as young as you once. I've done things in the bedroom I cannot even describe to you. Compared to some of that, the taste of my own semen doesn't even register."

She blushed a little. "I feel silly now."

"You shouldn't. Kiss me." She smiled and did.

Cearbhall tasted her, the inside of her mouth which tasted like him now. He liked that. They broke the kiss and he leaned back, supporting himself on his hands. Snag lay against him, her head on his chest. They remained that way for a while.

"You've got some experience," Cearbhall said.

"Hm?"

"You've done this before, I mean."

"Ah. Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"A little. You - never mind, it doesn't

matter."

"No, tell me. Please."

"It's nothing. You always seemed to me to be - beyond things like this."

"You mean sex?"

"Yeah. Almost like you were above it all. Unaffected by petty things like sex. Not like the rest of us."

Snag sighed. "I'm no different from anyone else. I'm not special in any way, I don't stand out. I'm just average."

"Well, that's just not true." They looked at each other. "There's nothing average about you," Cearbhall said in a firm, soft voice, "nothing at all."

Snag didn't say anything, but nestled herself closer to him. Cearbhall rested a hand on her lower back, just above her butt. For a moment, sex was forgotten. A warm embrace was all that remained.

Cearbhall's cock began to rouse again. His hand crept lower to her ass. Gave it a good squeeze. Snag stayed quiet. Pressed herself harder against him.

"I'm ready to go again," Cearbhall murmured. "Are you?"

"Yes," Snag answered, eager. "I'm ready whenever you are."

He stopped and thought. "Agh hell, I don't have any condoms."

"I do. In my purse. In my coat pocket."

"Alright. Then go to the bed and wait for me."

Her jacket hung off one of the hooks at the door. Sure enough, the purse was inside. He fished the condoms out from behind a little pouch. Cearbhall remembered a time, not that long ago, when he had to drive up North to buy condoms. such was Ireland in the late seventies.

He felt fantastic. Younger than he had in an age, and all his fatigue scrubbed off. As he was, he could take on the world. He regarded the condom: a weird little bit of rubber, once the topic of so much controversy. Controversy that the girl; no, the woman on the bed just a few feet away couldn't even imagine.

How wide the gap between them was. How different their generations. What would people think, if they saw them here, like this? Lots of things. Whatever they wanted. Cearbhall decided that he didn't care. For the moment, at least. Because ahead of all that was the way Snag made him feel.

How alive he felt. How easy it was to open up to her. Never before, had he been able for that. Not with anyone, not to this extent. He strode to the bed. Confident. Strong. Snag waited for him, knees together. Fingers interlaced. They made eye contact. Smiled. He left the condom on the bed for the moment. He had something to do first.

Sitting as she was, Snag covered up most of her naked body from the front. The barest hint of her, hidden by her legs and hands. He knelt over her on the covers, hands on the headboard behind her head.

"Are you ready?" he said.

"Yes."

"You're sure? I'm not one to hold back once I get started."

"I'm ready, sir. Please, do what you like."

He frowned. "We talked about this already."

"Wha- oh, I'm sorry - Cearbhall."

"That's fine. That's fine, Sylwia. You're allowed make mistakes tonight."

He kissed her lips and she opened her legs.

Kisses all over, on her throat, her sternum, her navel. Plenty of attention he lavished on her small, perky breasts. Fingers grazing the scant pubic hair, dark as the hair on her head. Mirroring Snag's from when she went down on him. Once she realised what he was doing, she spoke up: "Ah, si - C-Cearbhall, you don't have to go so far."

"Nonsense, it's only fair. I like when things are fair."

"But...

"Shush now. You said to do what I liked, so that's what I'm doing."

"You - like doing it?"

He grinned up at her. "It's the best thing in the world."

Cearbhall licked his lips and planted a wet kiss on Snag's pussy. She shivered right away, her body prickling with goosebumps. Down south, Cearbhall placed his whole mouth on her sex and sucked on it. His tongue lashed the apex of her pussy without mercy. Trying to get the red little berry the show its face. Each time he'd release suction, she'd shiver some more.

Snag's hand reached down, groping for Cearbhall's hair. Before she reached him he took hold of it and he placed it on one of her small breasts. Working herself up, feeling up her breasts, kneading them, pinching the nipples. He left her to it, returning to his task. He reached his hands under her butt, squeezing the cheeks.

Ragged breath. Resuming the pace, it did not take so long for her clit to show itself.

How responsive her body was. Now that the odd berry had risen from its hiding place, Cearbhall increased his assaults. From every angle he beat the bishop, all the while sucking her entire snatch. Snag kept shivering. Kept groping her breasts.

Hands on her thighs, Cearbhall spread the labia with his thumbs to reveal the pink lips. Sticky like honey, she smelled like aloe vera bodywash. Snag gasped when he licked the raw flesh. First, only light flicks of the pink with his tongue. Flicking outward, all around her vagina. His tongue got tired fast, so he changed tactics. Keeping his tongue stationery, he moved his head and neck around. Up and across, he slathered her pussy.

At last Cearbhall stepped back and rubbed his jaw. Tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth. It surprised him how easy it was. With a steady hand. Nevermind how long it had been since he'd used one.

"I know I said this already, but are you ready?" he said, his cock rousing by the instant.

"Yes, I'm ready," was Snag's answer. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Have I mentioned yet how beautiful you look?" Cearbhall said as he crawled on top of her.

"Yes. At the beginning," Snag replied, wrapping her arms round his shoulders.

"Hm. Well, you look really really beautiful anyway." He positioned himself.

She grinned. "I think you are very handsome as well."

He entered her with a single thrust.

"Does that hurt?" Cearbhall said in her ear.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine. Keep going."

He did.

Cearbhall went slow at first. Arched over her, he kept his eyes on Snag's face. They maintained eye contact. Even as he moved his hips. Back and forth, in and out. Wet sounds accompanied each slow movement. Bit by bit, picking up the pace. Keeping her gaze. Matching her breathing, moving his body in sync with hers.

At last, eye contact broke for a kiss on the neck. He kissed her many times. All along her collarbones. Between her breasts. Her nipples stuck out, like they wanted attention. Cearbhall granted it. Tongue still sore, he sucked on them. Kneaded them with his hands. Grazed the nipples with his teeth. Still rocking his hips back and forth, pressing his lower body heavy against her with each push.

Snag raised her legs, crossed her ankles behind his tailbone. Cearbhall increased the pace again. The bed creaked. Her hands clutched and shifted over the bed sheets. Cearbhall took one, laced his fingers through hers. Hunched over to meet her in a kiss on the mouth. Her other hand held his other wrist. She tightened her legs' hold on him. She wanted more. He gave it.

He was working at a decent pace now. His breath got hot and heavy. Raised over her, all his energy focused on pumping his hips. Snag gripped his arms which supported his frame. They held each other's gaze. Their mouths were open. Panting like dogs in heat. Cearbhall even had his tongue out. Snag bit her lip. The bed creaked even louder. She slid her hands up to his shoulders. Her smooth touch rose goosebumps on his arms.

Cearbhall went down to her, laying his whole body against hers. So small compared to him, so fragile. But no, not fragile at all. Of this, Cearbhall was now sure. She was tougher than she looked. She could take it.

A grin spread across Cearbhall's face. Crooked, and full of teeth. She can take it, he thought. She can take it all. A switch flipped somewhere within him. You could almost hear it. The sound of chain-links breaking.

He rose. Took hold of Snag's leg. Raised her ankle over his head. Flipped her over onto her stomach. She gasped in surprise, but didn't complain any. Cearbhall took her hands and pulled them behind her back raising her onto her knees. Top speed, fucking her like an animal. She moaned and panted like one, spurring him on even more.

He let go of her hands. Reached around to her front. Raised her to his level, the crest of her back against his chest. Her hands raised and locked behind his head. His face buried in the slope of her neck, kissing and licking all over. Tenderising.

On instinct, Cearbhall opened his mouth. Still pounding her from behind, he stopped a moment. Let Snag feel his hot breath on her. Before her he bit her. Not so hard, but enough to leave a mark. Snag gasped and jumped, hands grasping at his hair. He held her tight round her abdomen, gnawing at her neck. She shut her eyes. Bit her lip. Cearbhall moved back a little, inspected his work. Good, he thought. The mark would remain for some time. Good.

Holding her up still, he kept his arms tight around her waist. Ragged breath in her ear. Breathing her scent, her air. In tandem with her breath. Gripping her skin. Feeling her softness, her warmth. So thin, so light, so pale. He grunted, once, twice. He said her name once, and that was that.

He came and released a cry approaching a bellow. Almost simultaneous, she came as well. A high moan escaped through her bitten lip. She stared into space. A little string of drool ran from the corner of her mouth. Both breathed deep, heavy and hot. They stayed that way for some time.

It was late. Outside, the city of Dublin glittered with dirty orange light. Under the streetlamps, what was once concrete became ephemeral. Dyeing you in artificial shades, made you transparent. As you move from light to light, your shadow shifts, lengthening and shrinking. Wincing away from the light. Like it has its own mind. Like it doesn't belong to you anymore. You wave your hand. Your shadow waves back. You know it's still yours. But still it reacts to the light in spite of you.

Cearbhall hated streetlamps. He hated night time in the city. At night, he would look out on the old town he'd lived half his life in. He would look out and hate it, hate the city and everyone in it. All the derelicts. All the businessmen. All the honest and dishonest folk, with their honest and dishonest lives. All the mothers. All the students. All the lawyers.

He looked out on it now. Snag lay sleeping behind him, curled on her side. Her rhythmic breath was the only sound. Cearbhall remained aware of her presence, even as he raised his hand. Slow, deliberate, up over his head. Waved. Like he would under the lamplight. Making sure his body was still his own. No-one waved back. He stared at his hand, his arm, his body. His reflection in the glass. A sense of dispossession filled him. Like his body was not his own.

Noticing the shift immediately, Cearbhall turned round to see Snag awake and up. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry," he said. "Did I wake you?"

"Mm-mm. No. I'm a light sleeper. Why are you up?"

"I was just - just thinking about some things."

Nothing more was said for a moment.

"Sylwia?"

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow, in the morning, I want - I'm going -

I'm going to leave early. You check out an hour or so later, come into work then. Alright?"

"OK."

"It's just - It would not look good if we went in at the same time. You understand, right?"

"Of course."

"Alright... alright, good."

Nice, Cearbhall thought. How awkward. How anticlimactic. No matter necessary it was, it gave him no joy to say it. There was no hint of how she felt about it. Yet he was sure it gave her no joy to hear it. He couldn't leave it like that. Not like that. He turned round again.

"Sylwia, will you come here for a second?"

Snag said nothing but crawled over, climbing out from under the covers. She came beside him. Cearbhall put his arm round her, pressed her against him. In the touch, the barest hint of something. Of possession.

"Sylwia, there's something I want to know," he said in a low tone. "How do you know Michael Tornit?"

Snag blinked. She looked surprised. "I don't know him. Not really. My mama, she..." She took a breath. "Mama came to me one day, saying there was someone she wanted me to meet. It was Mr. Tornit, and Mama said that he had helped look after me when I was very small."

Cearbhall frowned. Tornit, looking after a child? "What did you make of him?"

"I didn't - I didn't like him. He wasn't - honest."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean he was - he was like the opposite of you, Cearbhall. He said nice things and was polite, but it felt like - it felt like he was just pretending. Like he was making fun of us in secret."

Cearbhall didn't say anything. He knew exactly what Snag meant. Always there, always hiding behind that smile was the laugh. To Tornit, it was like the whole world, everything in it. It was just a massive joke. A joke only he understood.

"But," Snag went on, "he was true to his word. He put in good words for me, arranged everything until I got my job with you. I don't know why. He helped me, but..." she trailed off. Numb.

"Go on," Cearbhall urged."

"He scares me. A little. A lot. I don't know what he wants, but I'm sure. I'm sure he wants something."

"I'm sure too," Cearbhall said. "I'm sure, and I know exactly what you mean. I've known him ten years, and I could never tell you anything about him. He's elusive. That makes him dangerous. But I owe him a lot. Because in the early days, it was thanks to him and his advice that I was able to start my own firm. And because of that favour I owe him, he was able to get you into my office. Because of that, we met. And that is a good thing."

Snag gazed up at him. "I think so too," was all she had to say.

Cearbhall held her close. There was still much he wanted to say. To ask. To learn. He knew that he was old, and she was young. He knew that he not as amazing as she seemed to think he was. But he knew that to speak now would be ruining something. So he said nothing. All he did was hold her. Felt her warmth, the beat of her heart, in time with his own.