Noir

She walked up to me like one of those divine creatures featured in some black and white film. Black dress, blonde hair, red lips and an attitude that was cool aloof and too good for me. She was a cliché, but I wanted her. She smoked a cigarette, but the way she held and played with it she wasn’t a smoker. The cigarette was a prop, one of those herbal deals with a heavy dose of clove.

She leaned in close to me smelling of Brazil nut and vanilla, whispering, “If you sit here looking like a hungry wolf, all the little red riding hoods will stay away.”

I smiled, hoping it was appropriately wolfish, “What’s your name.”

She didn’t even look at me when she answered, “Apple.”

“Like the fruit.” I know, a dumb reply, but my mouth took over before my mind had time to come up with something better.

“The forbidden kind” it was a retort, meant to put me in my place or at least reprimand me for my stupid comment, yet still another cliché.

She pushed off the bar and headed to the dance floor. Before she got there she turned back to me and did that slight motion with her head that indicated I should follow. I was really hoping there was some camera crew around some where because this was the stuff of movies.

I was even in the right outfit. Grey pinstripe zoot styled suit, with suspenders, tie, vest and a fedora, white pocket square peeking out. It wasn’t my usual outfit, but this club hosted theme nights. Tonight’s theme was movies from the 1940’s; perhaps that is why I was feeling so film noir.

I expected she would be good on the dance floor, she was better than good; moving in a seductive sway, much like a snake charmer. I didn’t feel quite like a snake, but her way of moving left me feeling like I had two left feet.

I took a mental break from the moment; from the dance floor. In just a few minutes this woman had me as a wolf and a snake, I must have been watching too much Discovery Channel.

My mental break wasn’t doing me any good because at that moment a song popped into my head “You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.”

Not a song that revered her beauty, but it was what I was feeling; irreverent, sexed up, reacting to stimulation and pheromones. I understood what the Bloodhound Gang was saying when they wrote the song. Screw romance, screw niceties, I just wanted to screw her.

Maybe I was feeling a bit schizophrenic. Love her fuck her, who said there was only one choice or the other? Fuck her and love her that is what I wanted and I had only just met her.

I returned my attention to the moment, to her. I was just trying to keep up and not look bad, but her every movement was an act of sensual art. We danced for a couple more songs and then she signaled it was time to go back to the bar.

She was catching her breath, I was hoping it was for me, but I sensed her moment of leisure wasn’t for my consideration. She confirmed my suspicion when she pushed off the bar, “I’ll be back.” One toss of her hair and it was all backside.

Signaling the bartender I ordered a drink. I contemplated the lime in my Vodka and Tonic. Wasn’t sure if she was in the bathroom, making a phone call or had just completely ditched me; and then, there it was, an unbidden thought. She was naked and I was squeezing that wedge of lime. The juice was dripping; down her clit, down her lips making that wet slit even juicier and oh so tart.

I thought of how it would taste, the lime juice mingled with her. Tasting with my mind; I imagined sweet musk and the sharp sour, now just to have those flavors hitting my taste buds and not just my imagination. I thought about how my tongue would lap up the drops of wetness, then moving up. Her navel, it was such a delicious word, navel, and I wanted to taste ever drop of sweat on her navel. Then I wanted to move up; breasts.

My mind was picturing them, the areolas a dusky rose color, wet with my saliva. Nipples responsive and hard, sending sensations to her pussy, sensations that would make her drip giving me more to lick; I was lost in the moment.

There was a bit of commotion on stage. Not real commotion, just a change up in a few musicians. They started into a blues riff. I still had the image of her naked in my mind the taste of her in my mouth and then she was there. On stage, walking toward the mike, grabbing the mike stand, like I wanted her to grab me and then she sang.

Warm like honey, smooth like expensive wine, sweet like ripe fruit, I couldn’t think of enough cliché similes to compare her to. The voice, the way she moved, it captivated me. Okay well to be honest the whole lime fantasy had me captivated, but her singing did more!

As she sang each song I saw how some in the audience looked at her. Wolfs wanting little red riding hood; I didn’t want her any less than any one of them. I wanted her more; at least in my book I wanted her more.

She finished her short set on stage. I leaned back on the bar, an attempt at looking debonair. I tried to pretend to be the wolf, as she walked towards me I saw her defenses go up and my chances at getting her number go down.

Desperation became inspiration. I took her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles, I looked at her eyes and gave her a smile devoid of art and full of admiration “that was beautiful, you are beautiful.” The defenses weren’t down, but they receded an inch.

She sat on the stool next to me and ordered a drink; she had a thing for vodka tonic too. She sat there, I wanted to say so much, but I let the silence be. Her arm found a resting place on my thigh and then her head relaxed against my shoulder. I kissed the top of her head as I caressed her arm. We sat, we touched, discretely, it was a public place and we drank, half an hour passed.

“Do you have a place to go that is less crowded than here?” I was surprised by her question coming out of the silence. “I have my place, not far from here.” I wasn’t sure that was the kind of answer she was looking for and I knew there was hesitation in my offer, but I thought it was worth the risk of giving the option.

She reached up, touched my face, it was almost tender and said “I guess there aren’t any all night book stores in this part of town, so your place will do.” Her tone of voice, the touch of sarcasm, told me she expected me to offer up my place. I could kick myself for having less confidence, but she mixed her sarcasm with that soft touch and at the moment I was just grateful that she wanted to be alone with me.

Staying in the theme of the night, I took her to my car letting her know I would return her to her own car when she was ready and opened the car door for my dame. I drove, careful to avoid breaking any laws, because I didn’t thing blue and read flashing lights would add to the ambiance of the night. It was hard to be careful, to concentrate, because Apple, kept touching me, a soft caress on my thigh, then my bicep, my check, my neck, I am trying to drive and she is brining every never in my body alive with her touch.

We make it to my apartment without incident, other than my heightening arousal, I turn the car off, pull the keys from the ignition, then hop out and go to open her door, “My flat is up there.” It is one flight of stairs and I let her go first, because I just want to watch the way she moves up the stairs.

Of course I fumble the keys a bit at the door, I want to be so suave, but the combination of excitement and nerves made me feel like I had a hand full of thumbs. I manage to get the door open, without too much key comedy and allow Apple to proceed me into the living room, while I flipped on the lights. She takes a seat on the sofa; I go to my small galley style kitchen to make us each a drink.

Though she had a vodka tonic at the club, I make us apple martini’s, at the last moment adding a cherry to hers and one slice of lime to mine, just in case I got to live out my fantasy from earlier at the club. I decide to leave my fedora on the kitchen counter.

I fired up my stereo system, which was connected to my iPod, loading my seduction play list. I watched her take a sip of her martini, she licked the spot at the rim of the glass where a drop of drink clung, just where her lips had been before. God I wanted her tongue to lick me like that too.

I sat next to her, took a sip of my drink, then she leaned in and kissed me. It was soft at first, then she lightly sucked on my lower lip, ran her tongue across my upper lip, a little nibble on the lower lip, then her tongue slowly caressed mine, from there the kiss deepened and I was in the moment savoring her taste and becoming even more aroused.

I move my hand to her knee, conveniently her black dress has a slit and my hand has found the side with the slit, I slide my hand higher. As I explore her thigh I find the lacy top of a stocking, a little more and I find she stayed with the 1940’s theme even in her stockings as it is held up with a garter belt and clasps. We are still kissing, I am hoping that I have more grace in my kiss than I did on the dance floor as I continue to explore upwards. Her panties are not a 1940’s style; instead it is just a few scraps of material making up a G-String.

I move aside the slight bit of material and run my finger up her slit, it is very wet and I pull my finger out, stopping our kiss to taste her. One taste is not going to be enough of my delicious Apple. Emboldened by her acceptance of my explorations so far I move from sitting on the couch and kneel between her legs. I slide her dress up, she wiggles just right to help me get her long skirt up high enough for what I want.

The scrap of material is still moved to one side, I inhale her scent, musky and tart, I look at the lips that surround her vagina and the blush on her lips, the drops of moisture between her lips, I know she is as aroused as I am. I slide my finger in the space between her lips a few times, then once my finger is nice and slippery with her apple juice I slide it over her clit. I am rewarded by a slight gasp from her.

I retreat from my place between her legs and hear a sound of protest, “Just a sec I promise, I’m only taking off my jacket.” I am feeling pretty good about how this is going. I shed my jacket, unbutton my shirt sleeves and roll them up a bit and then I return to my place between her legs. As I get back on my knees, I notice what a beautiful picture she is. Dress bunched up at her hips, stocking tops, clasps and garter belt exposed, legs spread, head thrown back, aroused and glistening. I also had noticed her cherry still in her drink.

I turn and liberate her cherry from her martini. I move in and lick her, using my tongue to first separate her outer lips, then I massage her inner lips with my tongue and open them too. Then I push the cherry into her, until the stem us just protruding from her pussy. I lick the inside of those lips, getting my tongue so I can just taste the cherry without pushing it in any further, then I cup my tongue into that pussy and scoop out the cherry. I keep the cherry in my mouth and move up, pulling her down to me and kiss her, giving her the cherry “you don’t taste like apple at all, seems to me you are all cherry.

I go back to her pussy, using my tongue to lap up any bit of cherry taste left behind. Then when that was gone I was just tasting her, swirling my tongue on her clit, softly so as not to over stimulate her, then I went back to thrusting my tongue in her pussy. After a couple minutes of this she starts to rub her own clit and for the first time I notice her nails, they were long and I wasn’t sure if I would call it candy apple or cherry, but very red.

She quickens the pace that she is rubbing herself, so I try to lick her deeper, getting my tongue in as far as possible. I could feel the slight tightening of her body and her pussy. Then her pussy started to spasm so hard I could feel it clenching on my tongue almost trying to pull it in deeper and then my mouth was bathed in her juices and I licked up every drop I could.

She sighed, I felt aroused, but god, I made her cum and that was something. I returned next to her on the couch and started sipping my martini again. Giving her a few minutes, waiting to find out what was next. After a few minutes, she took my martini from me and started kissing me again. She was very aggressive this time; it was like giving her an orgasm charged her sexual batteries instead of draining them.

As she kissed me she unbuttoned my vest and loosened my tie, then broke away to pull the tie off me and slide off my vest, both of which were laid on the arm of the sofa. She stood up and lifted her hair off her neck; it was a delicate, smooth neck. “Would you mind undoing my zipper?” Of course I didn’t mind, I stood up, started to nibble her neck, then as I slowly moved the zipper down I moved my nibbles down her spine.

She slid the dress off; it too went over the arm of the sofa. She turned back to me, now in her bra, which accentuated her breasts, those stockings, the clasps, garter belt and the flimsy excuse for panties and she still had her heels on, it was an exquisite sight, something you would see in a 1940’s Vargas drawing, with less revealing panties, but I wanted more, I wanted to see her breasts bare, I wanted her areolas and nipples in my mouth.

I embraced her, kissing her again with even more urgency and worked the hook and eyes that kept her bra on. I was able to undo it and then slid it off her shoulders letting the bra fall to the ground. She had beautiful full breasts, creamy like the rest of her with pink nipples; I moved my head down and suckled on one of those nipples, then the other. She pulled me up and kissed me while she pulled down my suspenders and unbuttoned my shirt. She slid my shirt off my shoulders and it pooled on the floor with her bra.

I was left standing there, with the ace bandage I had bound tightly around my breasts before I went out to the club so I wouldn’t look too feminine. She found the clasps and unwound my binding, freeing my average sized breasts. Then she took each of my nipples into her mouth in turn, making them hard, I knew that I was very wet just like she was earlier. Of course she wasn’t surprised by what she found under my suit since we had met at a lesbian bar.

Next she undid my pants and they pooled around my ankles, I looked down, she looked down and we both chuckled, realizing that my shoes would need to come off before my pants could come all the way off. She pushed me down onto the couch and started to untie my shoes. I was amazed to find the act of having my shoes untied to be so sensual. Her breasts kept brushing up against my legs. She took my socks off, tickling them a little, showing me that she was playful, then with a few swift movements my pants joined my other clothing on the arm of the chair.

I was left in just my Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs. Not the sexiest underwear, but it worked for my character that night and didn’t show panty lines. Or course I knew if anyone might be seeing my underwear that night I might have choosen some Calvin Klein’s or Joe Boxers. Then again, since she was calling herself Apple, maybe Fruit of the Loom would work for me.

She hooked her fingers into my waistband and tugged; I cooperated and did the pelvic thrust that would allow her to divest me of my one remaining piece of clothing. And there I was exposed to her like she was to me earlier. I was shaved just like she was so it was easy for her to see how dripping wet I was. She darted out her tongue to get a little taste of my juice.

Just with that I was on edge and I knew I wouldn’t last long. She put one of her long fingers into my pussy, then joined it with another. Her tongue started to flicker on my clit. It only took a moment and I coming, my juices spilling onto her fingers as my brain spun into a place of ecstasy.

Before I even returned from my journey to the planet pleasure, she slid her fingers into my mouth so I would taste myself, and now I had both her taste and my taste on my taste buds. I kissed her one more time so she would also know what we created when our juices mingled.

I looked at her, “I have a really comfortable bed in the bedroom, want to stay the night and I will take you back in the morning. I mean you never know we might get a second wind.” She agreed

We got to the bedroom; I pulled back the covers, “Sit down so I can take off your heels.” She did and as I took off each heel I massaged her foot for a moment and kissed the top of her feet. I unclasped the little mechanisms that kept her stockings up, unhooked her garter belt, rolled down the stocking on the right leg, then the stocking on the left. .

I hooked my fingers in the strings that were her underwear, hoping she would be as cooperative about her underwear as I was about mine. She was, and I reveled in the idea I would be snuggling up to her naked that night.

We both crawled into bed and snuggled, not really talking. I felt her relax, her breathing setting into an even pattern, knowing she was falling asleep, hopeful she would wake later ready for more. As she drifted off I wondered would I be punished for having Apple, a bit of forbidden fruit, or if I would be able to find Eden with her instead.

Copyright 2009 Lillian Christiansen