Butterfly Collector
There were moments I recall pausing at the front door a little longer than expected. At some point, it required conscious effort to put my foot down on the other side of the threshold. Then, one day, I sat on the floor with my front door open, my hand trembling, and tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t even force myself to put my foot on my welcome mat.
How stupid, right? Who is so pathetic that they can’t even go outside? Over the following few weeks, it became apparent that I was that pathetic. I had enough savings to last a few months. More importantly, I had neighbors who helped me out.
I looked along the walkway leading to my condo. At the top of the stairs were three paper grocery bags. Twenty-five feet beyond my door was my lifeline for the week, and I was contemplating whether I really needed those groceries or if I was prepared to let them just sit there and rot.
But my fridge was empty and I did enjoy eating. I tried to push myself to take that first step. I even tried to close my eyes so I couldn’t see the threshold, but it was like I knew where it was. There was a moment when I wondered if I could climb out the window instead. Maybe it was something to do with the front door that made the world seem unsafe. Could I trick my mind into letting me go outside another way?
The crinkle of bags made me open my eyes. I watched as the man who’d moved in next door about two weeks prior, and a year after I became unable to leave my condo, picked up one of the bags from my order and carried them over to me. He was tall, with shoulder-length dark hair and dimples in his cheeks, very attractive. My cheeks developed a noticeable blush as he handed it to me. I had to force myself to reach out for it. It physically hurt to do so. He smiled then went back for the other two bags.
“Thank you,” I said as he brought them over. There was a moment of embarrassment as I realized I hadn’t responded to his initial gesture.
He held onto the other two bags. His focus squarely on me, and I glanced away as he said, “I didn’t get it at first.” His voice resonated with me. It was deep, pleasant, and held a faint accent I couldn’t quite place.
My head cocked as I lifted my eyes to meet his. “Get what?”
“Why Ronnie laughed when he said I should ask you out.” He looked at the doorframe and said, “I get it now.”
I lowered my gaze. Great. I was officially the weirdo of the complex. And Ronnie was a bigger douche than I realized.
“When’s the last time you got your mail?” he asked.
“The… the mailman brings it to me.” My eyes focused on a rogue leaf stuck in the knotting of my welcome mat; too close to him, too far from the doorway.
“Oh, that’s good.” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know they could do that.”
“Oh… well, Mrs. Stevenson gave me the number I needed to call to get information on hardship deliveries. They told me what to do and how to apply for accommodations so I didn’t have to rely on someone else to get my mail from the main box. I have to get approved again every six months.” Why had I blurted that out? “You can… you can come in, if you’d like. Least I can do is offer you a drink or something.”
He grinned and stepped through the threshold of my doorway with the two large grocery bags in his arms. “Kitchen?”
“To the right,” I said as I motioned, carrying the third bag and following him.
He set the crinkly paper bags on my kitchen table and began to unload them. I was… anxious, until he smiled at me, at least.
“My name’s Elias. Friends call me Eli.”
“Well, thank you for your help, Elias.” I took over unloading the grocery bags. “There’s water and such in the fridge if you’d like something. Help yourself.”
Elias chuckled, and I turned my attention back to him as he watched me fuss over my groceries.
“Something amusing?” I asked.
“Mmm, I was just wondering how you’d respond if I asked you to stay in with me.”
“Stay in with you?”
There was something about the way he looked at me that made me uncomfortable. His focus didn’t seem to be on my face, or even my body, but I still had this sensation of being stared at. It made my heart race.
“Well, you can’t go out with me. So, yeah. Would you like to stay in with me?”
I smiled and looked him over. “Something tells me I’m not really your type. Is this a bet between you and Ronnie? A joke?” Some sort of gotcha at my expense somewhere down the line?
His smile faded. “It’s nothing to do with Ronnie. And this is the first time you’ve met me. How would you know what my type is?”
That he seemed almost offended caught me off guard, but maybe I had judged him unfairly. I stopped sorting my groceries and looked him over, then leaned forward. “Basing it entirely on your appearance, admittedly, but I’d take your usual type is short, thin, bubbly, blonde with blue eyes and a summery tan year-round. Confident. Bright. Vain. Self-sufficient… shall I continue?”
Elias nodded. “Please do. Then I can do the same for you once you’re done and we can see how accurate we each were.”
“Well, the only other attribute I suspect would matter to you is probably the only one I actually possess.” I returned my attention to the groceries, washing and drying the produce before putting it in appropriate bins in the refrigerator or baskets on the counter.
“And that would be?”
I lowered my eyes a moment. “It’s unspeakable. Particularly with someone I’ve only just met.”
He smiled and stood a little straighter. “Two out of ten right.”
“Think you can do better?” I asked as I turned back around to him.
“I do. See, judging entirely from your appearance, I’d wager you like dominant men.”
I crinkled my nose, but kept working on the bags, trying not to give too much away with reactions to anything he said.
“You’re attracted to… dark haired men with blue eyes. Financially comfortable, but you’d be turned off by extensive wealth. Someone who takes care of himself physically, but wouldn’t obsess over either exercise or diet. He would be agreeable and kind. Maybe introspective or open to conversations about life, emotions, and beliefs. I think you prefer deep voices and longer hair on a man. I expect you would love a man who knows his way around the kitchen and is bright enough to infer a situation based on minimal observation and context clues.”
My smile was involuntary. “Did you just describe yourself, Elias?”
He grinned. “Yeah. I think I might’ve. How about that?”
“You got two out of ten.”
“Which two?”
“A deep voice and introspective personality.”
His lips twitched into a smile. “Not agreeable and kind?”
“Not according to my dating history.”
Elias laughed, and my smile widened.
“My type,” he said with a pointed tone, “is variable. But, I like a bright, self-sufficient, yet submissive, woman.”
My breath caught a moment and I lowered my eyes. The groceries stayed where they were as I forced myself to make eye contact again. “And mine is largely about the appeal of a man’s brain and voice.” And his willingness to take charge, but I’m not about to admit to that, I thought.
“I’ll be back at seven.” He walked away with little more than a lifted chin. “It’s not like you have plans to go out tonight or anything, right?”
“Hey, wait…” I followed him to the front door. Did he just ask me out?
He turned at the threshold as he asked, “Do you have any food allergies?”
“Food allergies?”
“Yeah. I’d be upset if you had to leave your condo because you end up in a hospital after I served lobster.”
“Date? I didn’t agree to this…”
“If you had, I wouldn’t be taking charge. Do you have any allergies? Food sensitivities? Dislikes? Quickly now, I have to plan and think.”
“I don’t eat red meat or pork,” I said in a rush as my cheeks flushed. And with that, I’d implicitly agreed to his date.
“Well, we’ll see how the night goes before writing it off completely, eh?” Then he turned toward his condo.
The fuck just happened?
I hadn’t been on a date in… a long while. What does one wear on a date? I rummaged through my closet, trying to figure out what one wears for a night in with a neighbor who’s absolutely out of my league, even if only for the fact he could leave his condo whenever he wanted. What he would get out of this?
He could easily do better than me, I had no doubt of that, so I didn’t want to try to impress him, but… it had been a while since I’d fucked anyone. I wondered if I could bring myself to use him for a little relief without getting emotionally attached. He was hot, though I wasn’t sure if I was viewing that perception through a lens of desperation or if I actually believed it.
His ability to deduce my situation within two weeks of living there was impressive. That he helped me when he didn’t have to and seemed to take offense to me dismissing myself as his type on appearance alone was intriguing.
The first point of order was to lock my second bedroom. I didn’t want him to wander in and get the wrong idea about me, which might give him ideas about taking advantage of my inability to leave my condo.
What can I say? Work from home jobs were hard to come by, so I created my own opportunity with what I had available to me. I did okay for myself. However, the last thing I wanted was for my handsome new neighbor to find out exactly how I earned my money. I’d made a sound investment; that’s all anyone needed to know.
I finally decided on what to wear. Casual was the way forward. He already knew about my inability to leave my condo. Besides, he’d seen me in a baggy sweatshirt and sleep shorts with my hair pulled up messily on my head, my glasses halfway down my nose, and not wearing a drop of makeup, yet he still seemed interested. Anything would’ve been an improvement from our introduction.
A black wool miniskirt paired with a cleavage-baring white blouse. Casual, but not boring. I pulled out one of my nicest lingerie sets. Red lace demi cup and silk thong. Expensive and a fan favorite — they liked the contrast with my fair complexion and the hint of sensuality that came with wearing red. I showered, washed, styled my long brown curly hair, and applied very little makeup. Lipstick just a shade darker than my natural lip color, along with winged brown eyeliner and volumizing mascara.
I finished the look with a cheeky hint at where I wanted the night to go. My bracelet was fashioned out of handcuffs. A shackle hammered flat from the top and fixed in diameter as a bangle.
Fuck.
I looked myself over in the mirror and realized I’d put in far too much effort. Casual but not boring shifted to ‘I desperately want to get fucked tonight’ real quick. I shoulda gone with jeans. I started to change, but the doorbell rang, and my heart dropped. Too much effort. He was gonna see the desperation my outfit conveyed. The question was, would it scare him off or entice him?
I sighed but went and opened the front door, inviting him inside for the second time that day. Elias was not nearly as dressed up, which made me even more uncomfortable. He was clearly trying to establish a friendship, and I interpreted dinner as a date. He held a large paper and I wondered what was on the menu. A leather and chain wrap on his wrist seemed the perfect accessory to his black jeans and band T-shirt.
I tugged at the waistband of my skirt and padded behind him. I should discreetly go change into something more casual, I thought. Or maybe just lose the handcuff. I fidgeted with the bracelet and tried to work it over my hand without him noticing.
Elias turned toward me, and I stopped messing with the bracelet. He lifted his eyebrow as he looked me up and down. “I should run home and change, you’ve clearly brought your A game and I thought I could coast by while trying not to make you feel any undue pressure.”
“Just… give me a minute and I’ll change. I thought…”
He laughed gently, quieting me and brightening the blush of my cheeks with a touch to my hand. “Only if I can watch, but then the pre-dinner would have to wait.” Elias held up the bag in his hand. The big smile on his face and quirked eyebrow seemed flirty. “You look great. Maybe I can make up for my lack of effort by running home after dinner and grabbing my guitar, play you a song. I don’t know, do something to win you over.”
“Have you seen you? I’m won over.” Not subtle. And not thought out. But… yeah, accurate.
He glanced over his shoulder at me before turning into the kitchen. “That desperate or just shallow?”
I took a step back. The remark was cutting. He softened his stance and voice as he spoke, “Sorry. I have a twisted sense of humor sometimes. I was only joking.”
“Oh.”
“God, I’m making the worst impression.”
“That desperate, I guess.” I fidgeted with my skirt; honesty seemed like it wouldn’t hurt anything, given how blunt we’d already been with each other.
His confidence returned with that. “My lucky day, then.”
My cheeks brightened. He sat the bag on the counter while I retrieved a couple plates.
“Just one,” he said, putting his hand atop mine.
“Just one?” My face crinkled in confusion.
“Yeah. Trust me.”
I put the unneeded plate back in the cabinet. He withdrew then opened boxes from the bag. I tried for a peek but he kept blocking my view, laughing lightly at my attempt. “Is dinner a secret?” I asked, smiling softly in an attempt to mask my annoyance.
He stepped aside, and I laughed as I looked at the plate. On it were various cakes, pastries, cookies, and pies — no real food to be seen aside from a small fruit bowl. “Did you just bring desserts?” I asked.
Elias cocked his head to the side and shrugged as he said, “Pretty sure you’re gonna be dessert.”
It was almost instinctive to cringe at that, and he laughed at my visceral response. “You were much smoother this afternoon,” I replied.
“I never said I was smooth at all, you made assumptions based on my appearance.”
Okay, fair, I had done that. “Explain this to me,” I said as I motioned to the array of sweet treats.
“Dinner is on the way, I ordered it before I came over. This,” he motioned to the plate before continuing, “is a test. I have a theory about you. There’s no right or wrong, it’s just about seeing your instincts. One plate, because I can fit one of each on it and that’s all we’ll need tonight. A sweet easement into a full-service dinner. I figure if you can’t go to the restaurant then I can bring the restaurant experience to you. Menu is limited, though.”
“Okay…”
“Are you open to taking my test?”
“Um… sure…” My expression teetered on uncomfortable as he set the plate on the counter. “What do you want me to do?”
“Which of these would be your preference for dessert?”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he echoed.
“What’s the catch?”
Elias smiled. “No catch.”
I looked the dish over while weighing my options. A chocolate heart-shaped cake sat in the lower right corner. It most likely had a raspberry or strawberry filling, as a small amount of red fluid broke free of the chocolate coating. Above it was a cigar-shaped pale cookie. A bit of cream filling covered part of the inner cylinder of the cookie but didn’t fully fill it. A bowl of fruit sat above the cookie. To the left of the cake was a small pie. Lemon or lime cream was most likely given the pale coloring of the thick filling. Above that was another cake, some sort of bundt with strawberries and whipped cream in the center. Then, at the top of that row was a small chocolate bowl filled with a thick piped mousse; it looked extremely decadent. In the final row was a shortbread tart with… maybe an almond cream, if I had to guess, topped with an assortment of glossy berries. A simple cupcake sat above the tart, and a slice of plain cheesecake finished the plate.
“What if none of them appeal to me?” I asked.
“Is that your choice? None of the above?”
“Well, it’s difficult to choose one when I don’t know what the filling is on some of them. That one looks like a berry filling, but for all I know it’s full of disgusting blood or something.”
He lowered his gaze to the plate, a glimmer of a smile on his lips as he eyed the chocolate cake for a moment. “I promise there’s nothing unsavory about any of these desserts.” He lifted his eyes back to mine and stepped closer, “What if I said you could take a bite of each one before deciding?”
“That’s nine desserts. I’m pretty sure I’d skip dinner and feel sick the rest of the night.”
“You are difficult, you know?”
“I’ve been told that.”
“What if I tell you the flavors?”
“I’d have to trust you were being honest.”
He smiled. “Well, you don’t have to. You can still say none of them.” Elias waited a moment, maybe to see if I’d interrupt or come back with another reason why I couldn’t choose. “They’re all very basic flavors.”
“The fruit cup,” I said.
“Why that one?”
“I can see everything in it. There’s no guessing the flavor.”
His smile shifted to a grin, and that made me uncomfortable. “Try one,” he said, motioning to the fruit bowl.
My curiosity was evident, but I picked up a juicy piece of melon and realized right away that it felt… off. I bit into it. It was hard, not unripe, but it had a crunch while being smooth in texture. Curiosity quickly shifted to confusion. There was a soft, slick outer coating, but the fruit wasn’t fruit. It was cake dipped in white chocolate and coated with a soft melon-colored and flavored glaze.
“Maybe look beyond the surface before making snap judgments on fruit, and people.” He leaned back on the counter, and I arched my brow with an almost defiant look.
“Still tastes good…”
He took the rest of the cake from my fingers, popped it in his mouth, and finished it. “Really does, doesn’t it?”
“So, what’s the point of this little gotcha game?” I asked.
“I just wanted to watch you eat something decadent. Something you couldn’t hide your pleasure in consuming. I thought you’d go for chocolate.”
My head tipped, and he picked up the chocolate cake from the corner. Elias took a big bite of it and held the bitten piece up to me. I hesitated but leaned forward and took a small bite. My eyes closed, and I covered my mouth as I moaned. It was so rich yet light — an airy crumb with a silky cherry filling. I opened my eyes, embarrassed by my borderline sensual reaction.
He reached out to me and wiped a bit of the cherry filling from the corner of my lip with his thumb. I still felt like he was out of my league, but he made it difficult to believe he thought the same. Particularly when he licked the cherry filling from his thumb. If he was attempting to seduce me, it was working, real fucking well.
Part of me wanted to forget dinner and lead him down the hall to my bedroom, but I didn’t. I wasn’t quite that desperate just yet. I just stood there like a deer in headlights, watching him as he pushed the dessert plate away. There had to be something wrong with him. Secretly a serial killer or puppy kicker or something. Knowing my luck, he was a serial killer who targeted puppies.
Should I grab a container to put these away, or let them stay on the counter? Kinda want to do anything to be able to turn away from him before my cheeks redden more than they are.
Elias pushed against me as he reached past and pulled a container from the cabinet behind me. “Most will be fine on the counter, but a few shouldn’t stay at room temperature for long.” He put the heat sensitive desserts away and tucked the container into my fridge as though he were intimately familiar with being in my apartment.
He seemed comfortable.
Why did that make me so uncomfortable?
It didn’t take long for him to guide me back into the living room, where we sat on the couch and fell into a lighthearted conversation about our lives. Everything about the situation seemed odd, but he made me laugh, and it felt good. It felt convenient. Perfectly timed.
His apt responses and conversational shifts as I grew uneasy kept the feeling of ‘sinister’ fresh in the back of my mind. Still, he was attentive. He listened and laughed with me. Everything about him indicated he was a good person, so why couldn’t I shake that little inkling of dread sending a chill down my spine? He reached out and pushed my hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. My heart beat a little faster.
Dinner came as we wrapped up a conversation on our past jobs. It was a surreal experience. I’d not been to a restaurant in a long time, but the way Elias had set everything up… bringing an actual server to my home and making it seem like the real deal… yeah, it was weird, but nice. It felt normal. I hadn’t felt anything normal in a long time.
“Are you rich or something?” I asked Elias as the young woman began packing the wares from the restaurant. She’d already packaged the dishes we hadn’t eaten and placed them in my fridge. He’d ordered multiple meals because he didn’t know what I liked to eat and wanted it to feel like a genuine experience. He covered the bases from a delicate chicken dish to a purely vegan option.
He laughed, his attention fully on me even as the girl, who appeared to be exactly the type I’d described as his ideal, worked nearby. “It’s not appropriate to ask a man about his finances on a first date.”
“I just… that had to cost a lot. I can reimburse you for my part if you’d like. You… you don’t have to try so hard to impress me, if that’s what you’re aiming for?” I twirled a lock of my hair around my finger and bit my lip as I looked away from him.
“Impressing you wasn’t the goal. Making you feel a little more average, however, was.”
I smiled. “Average?”
His cheeks flushed, and he started to backtrack, but I laughed and shook my head, interrupting his attempt to apologize. “I’m so…”
“Average is nice,” I offered.
“That’s not…” he struggled to accept that I didn’t see what most would assume was an insult as anything but.
“I like average. No pressure to be more. No worry about being seen as less. Average is just… perfect.”
He leaned back on the sofa, and I lightly held the glass of wine he’d poured me. I didn’t even like wine, but I also didn’t want to be sober. Though, drunk wasn’t the goal, either. I was feeling quite complex, I suppose. I wanted to be tipsy enough to let things unfold however they might while being able to brush it off as a big mistake the next morning once we both sobered up. Because I had no doubt that he would see it as a big mistake once the fog of lust lifted. Or maybe he’d see me as just another conquest and simply pretend it had never even happened. Either of those made sense to me.
The girl wheeled her gear out of the apartment, and a large man met her just outside. The man nodded to Elias as he picked up the case. A quick glance back at my date and I noticed him shake his head. The large man and young woman were gone from my view quickly after that.
The front door stayed open, and I made no move to close it. There was something a little safe about it being open, even knowing I couldn’t walk out. It opened the space, refreshing the air from the lingering scent of our meals.
There was a silence that lingered between us after the girl left. I found it calming and I kinda hoped he wouldn’t try to fill that silence with small talk. My gaze lingered on him. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was pleasant to be around. I could see us developing a friendship, even if not a romance.
I’ve long fought intrusive thoughts that lingered around the surface of my mind. Generally, I could ignore them. Every now and then, though, one slipped through, often at the most embarrassing or inconvenient of times. And it was then, as I fingered the stem of my wine glass, then swirled its contents in the bowl that I broke that comfortable silence by letting one of those thoughts slip and said, “I could always give you a blowjob to repay you.” My cheeks flushed, and I bit my lip as soon as my brain caught up to what my mouth had done. Why the fuck did I say that?
His eyebrows raised, seemingly in alarm, and he took a long sip of his wine, finishing the glass before setting it on my coffee table. “Maybe, before we jump into you repaying me with sexual favors, we can start with you telling me your name. I thought you might offer it on your own at some point, but here we are many hours after meeting, and I’ve just been referring to you in my head as ‘the cheeky brunette from two-fifteen.’ It doesn’t even have to be your real name, just something I can call you…”
“Vanessa,” I replied. My voice was low. The heat of my cheeks bordered on overwhelming.
Elias chuckled and nodded. “Vanessa is a great name. It’s a genus of butterfly, did you know that? The American Painted Lady falls under that classification. Beautiful creatures.”
I was mid-drink when he said that, and I froze, almost choking on my wine. The tremble in my hand was easy enough to hide as I carefully swallowed then sat the empty glass next to his on the table. “No. I didn’t know that. Are you into bugs?”
“Lepidopterist. I collect butterflies, not bugs.”
“So you catch and kill…”
He shook his head, “No, never. I collect them after they die. Only the best specimens, obviously. I like to hike, and it seems wasteful to let such beauty rot on the trails. So, when I come across a particularly appealing specimen, I preserve it then pin it in a shadow box as soon as I’m able. I’d invite you over to see my collection, but, well…”
“You could always bring them over here. Do you have any from that family?”
“Genus.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and sat back on the couch, trying not to smile at his pedantry, and very thankful he’d changed the conversation from my outburst.
“I have an American Painted Lady and a West Coast Lady. The others are difficult to source ethically, and I’ve not had any luck finding any when vacationing.”
“So you have two Vanessas displayed in your condo?”
He chuckled and leaned in a little closer to me. “Jealous?”
“I dunno, are they average specimens, too?”
His lips twitched. “Above average.”
“Well, good to know you have standards for some things,” I replied, leaning back on the couch.
He moved closer to me and placed his hand on my thigh. The warmth of my skin was evident beneath his cool palm.
It had been months since I’d been physically touched by another person. Once I stopped leaving my condo, my friends found it harder and harder to come by. They got fed up with me, I suppose. I don’t blame them. It’s a lot to adapt to for someone who used to be relied on to swing by and cook or clean for a friend when they were down. I guess expecting the same expression of care was asking a bit much of them.
I waited for his hand to slide higher, but it didn’t. His gaze seemed to be trailing over me, so I put my hand on his, gently urging his fingers a little higher. It felt nice. I liked him, and he seemed to be into me, so it didn’t seem harmful to encourage him, even with that nagging little dreadful feeling lingering in my mind. Though, maybe the dread added to his appeal for me.
Elias slid his hand to my wrist, his thumb stroking the underside as he lifted his eyes and met my gaze. “You’re not average,” he said, his brow furrowed as though he felt the need to stress that sentiment.
I smiled and nodded. “I know. I’m probably somewhere a little below average, particularly for Vanessas.”
“Do you want to know what my current type is?”
“Sure.” I rolled my eyes then glanced away. Why not hear everything I’m not before I brutally embarrass myself by making another move that would be unrequited.
“It’s not always a physical type that I become interested in. Physicality is so limiting in terms of connecting with people. It would be like going on the trails and looking for a very specific wing pattern for my collection. Nothing would ever quite match up, so I’d always have my eyes open, watching for something that fits my ideal better, something more aesthetically pleasing.”
“Okay… So, what is it that you look for, then?”
Elias moved a little closer, “I do have some physical preferences, but they aren’t absolutes, just things that add to my enjoyment of a woman. Long hair is one.” He brought his hand up and stroked his fingertips along my cheek, then again brushed my hair back behind my ear and let his fingers continue down, tracing a curled lock over my collarbone before his eyes connected with mine again. “Full lips are a favorite.” His hand came under my chin and lifted my head, his thumb stroked across my lower lip. “Her scent can really make or break a connection with me.”
“Oh?” I asked as I tipped my head, giving him access to my neck. “What do I smell like?”
He leaned in, his lips brushed against my neck, and his hand caressed the opposite side as he inhaled deeply. “Vanilla. A light, earthy tone just beneath. Something floral.” His voice was soft and warm against my ear; I had to fight the urge to shudder.
“Is that good or bad?” My voice caught with the question as his lips pressed to my neck. My heart pulsed rapidly, and I wanted so badly for him to bite me. Something unquestioningly intimate, not just suggestive.
Instead, his tongue flicked along my skin and I whimpered in response.
“Definitely good,” he said, his lips achingly close to my neck without actually making a connection, though his breath tickled me.
My entire body tingled, but I questioned moving forward. Would fucking him the same day I met him be a mistake? Probably. I knew I’d do anything he wanted, but at the same time submitting in that way would rule out any chance of a friendship with him. And I could really use a friend.
His hand slid into my top, his cool fingertips against my warm breast. A whimper escaped me as he squeezed me through the thin lace cup of my bra. I pulled back a little and looked him in the eyes. My lips were slightly parted. He grasped my jaw, pulling me to him in a delicate kiss, and I matched his movements as I placed my hand on the back of his neck.
To hell with it. Friendship would come, or it wouldn’t… I needed him.
It was a tease. He knew I wanted him to lead, so he made diminutive gestures, giving me just enough to ensure I ached for him. My desire built as he unbuttoned my blouse and gently dragged his teeth along my neck.
“Small breasts are another positive for me,” he whispered as he palmed and lifted my breast.
I shuddered as he bit my neck. There was a dizzying effect and a light pain as he licked and sucked on me. The way he taunted me was almost painful. I winced, but didn’t pull away as he moved closer.
I was a little desperate for something more than my own hand, a wonderful showerhead, and a collection of vibrating silicone options. My head lolled, and his grip on my neck tightened. I moaned when he bit harder.
“Fuck,” I murmured.
A light tone of pain came through, but it was short-lived as the gentle glide of his tongue on my skin quieted the protests in my mind. A noise sounded outside, and my head turned toward the open door.
“Fuck,” I repeated, “the front door is still open.” My voice was quiet, but the concern was obvious. He should’ve heard me. Maybe he did. But he showed no sign of caring that anyone who walked by could see us making out on my couch.
Elias didn’t stop, and I didn’t ask him to. He pulled my blouse off of one shoulder and I sat there, bra exposed. Then he lavished more desire on my neck with a much harder bite and forceful sucking. I whimpered, and my hand moved. For a moment, I thought I might push him away, but I ran my hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, encouraging him to bite down even harder. The pain was exquisite and just what I wanted.
He understood the request without me having to utter a word. It felt like he broke the skin, but he didn’t stop licking and sucking my neck as he bit, so I assumed it wasn’t that bad. A secret desire, maybe? His or mine? He had me reeling, and I loved it. My shirt fell down my shoulders, and he guided it off my arms, letting it fall to the couch.
My gaze turned to the open door again. I wanted to close it so I could just rip the rest of my clothes off and let him ravish me. “Eli…” I started as he unhooked the center closure of my bra, freeing my firm breasts to him — and to any passersby.
His teeth finally let go of my neck, but his lips didn’t pull away; they dragged along with his tongue over my clavicle and then across my bare breast. He pushed the bra straps from my shoulders, and they fell without protest from me.
I wasn’t myself. I stared at the open doorway and felt a warmth across my exposed skin. His lips and tongue brought each of my nipples to firm attention. I didn’t mind my body being on display, but not so openly right where I lived. “Elias,” I tried again, and his tongue slipped beneath my nipple, lifting it to the roof of his mouth as he suckled me. Whatever I had wanted to say slipped from my mind as my fingers ran through his hair.
My breath caught. He pulled away from my breast, and his hand slid up my neck; then he brought his fingers to my hair and pulled lightly, forcing my head back as he knelt over me and kissed me hard and deep. I whimpered. His hand moved to my skirt, pushing it up my thighs just a little.
The sound of movement on the stairs was unmistakable. I wanted to pull away from his kiss, but he urged my hand into his open zipper. I groaned, stroking my fingers over his firm length. Enthralled. Enraptured, I was there, wanting him so fucking bad.
He pulled my hair a little harder, forcing my head back and exposing my neck to him. It hurt, and I whined. He pushed my skirt up and lowered my panties so easily with one hand. He’d clearly done this before, most likely many times. I moved my hips and lifted myself, helping him get the fabric off one ankle.
The noises on the stairs got clearer. Two people were talking, at least one of them a guy. “Elias,” I cried out breathlessly. “Please? Shut the front door.” It would’ve taken a second. He easily could’ve done it.
Instead, he lowered himself to me and pushed his thick cock into me. I lifted my knees and gripped his hips. “Jesus, fuck,” I cried out at the suddenness of his penetration. My clit throbbed. Hell, my whole pussy throbbed as he pulled back and pushed in once again, causing me to moan and lift my hips to him. The voices outside got louder for a moment, and Elias thrust himself into me again and again.
“Harder,” I begged, the risk of being seen now adding spice to his touch, the game I realized he’d been deliberately playing. Wanting him took over any sensible thought I might’ve otherwise had. It wasn’t like people hadn’t seen me in compromising situations before.
He thrust with more force behind his hips, and I arched my back. The voices outside were so fucking loud. My cheeks flushed. His hand grasped my hip, his thumb caressed my clit as I struggled to draw a full breath without trembling or gasping. My body trembled beneath him, legs and stomach rippling with spasms of pleasure as I cried out, “Yes!”
I squeezed him, and he smiled at me as he continued to pump himself deep and hard within me. The voices outside of my condo finally quieted as Elias kissed me. The couch rocked with us. My legs squeezed his hips, and my hands pulled at his hair.
I licked my lips, and he pulled me up from the couch. “A willingness to be taken anywhere and at any time is essential,” he said with a grunt as he sat back and guided me over his lap. “Show them what you’re really like, Vanessa.”
My hips rocked over his cock. I felt so full, so wanted. My eyes turned toward the still-open front door. Two guys stood there, staring and watching my body arch as I took my neighbor’s dick deep inside of me. Elias’s hands were on my breasts, caressing them before letting one hand drift back up into my hair. He still hadn’t cum, but when he pulled my hair back so hard that I had to put my hands on his knees behind me, I did, again.
I quaked on him. I would’ve fallen forward against his chest, collapsing into him, if he hadn’t been holding me so tightly by my hair. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and he lifted himself into my spasming pussy. My entire existence felt shadowed, cloudy, maybe even unreal.
While I rode out my orgasm on his cock, I licked my lips, my gaze shifted to the two men staring at me fucking Elias on my couch. It was intoxicating. Much more so than the wine had been. He stroked my clit, rubbing lightly back and forth across it as my thighs continued to quiver from my orgasm.
I was dazed. Elias’s hand smacked my ass, and my attention focused back on him. His hands were on my hips, guiding me over his cock, “I asked you a question.”
“Hmm?” I hadn’t heard.
“Where do you want my cum?”
I felt his cock stiffen slightly, and I groaned, my hand caressing my abdomen. “My mouth, please?”
He smiled and pulled me off of his lap, pushing me down onto my knees on the floor in front of him. His cock was coated in a creamy substance, the musky remnants of my desire. I liked it, and I showed him how much as I took him deeply in my mouth.
His hands cupped the sides of my face, I imagine he wanted to guide me, but he didn’t, as I was already forcing his cock into my throat for my own pleasure. I gagged and pulled back, saliva connecting us, and my creamy fluid coated my lips. He leaned over and kissed me, and I peeked at the open door. They still watched. Mouths slightly opened and pants noticeably tighter.
Elias glanced at them and quickly guided me onto the couch beside him. He lay back, and I bent over, my ass facing the door the way Elias wanted. I continued the blowjob with glee, ensuring my moans vibrated against his cock. I needed him to cum in my mouth, but the longer it took, the more of my own fluid I felt dripping from me and onto the back of my calves.
My eyes watered, and I pulled back a few times to catch my breath. When I pushed myself again, I gagged, causing my stomach to tense and my pussy and ass to tighten. What a sight that must’ve been to the two men standing at my open door. Inviting, perhaps?
Elias gathered my hair in his hands and thrust up as he pulled me down on him. I whimpered. My throat was full and it ached. He released with a grunt, and I fought to continue holding my breath as he released in my throat. The wet dislodging of him was uncomfortable and I gasped.
He stroked my cheek, wiping the saliva from my lower lip and chin as my tear-filled eyes focused on his face.
I felt wonderful — euphoric, bashful. I made myself small next to him, and he looked past me, stroking my cheek then down along my neck. I shivered, and he smiled. “How about you invite them in, Vanessa?”
My gaze fell over my shoulder and Elias too the opportunity to bite my neck again, much harder than before. I winced and pulled away, my hand went up to my skin, but I was distracted by the two men outside. “Why?” I asked as I looked back at Elias.
“Because you can’t go to them.”
I glanced at the men and ran my fingers over my neck. It was sticky and warm. My hand came away, and I saw bright red streaks along my skin. The color drained from me, and I lifted my gaze back to Elias.
“Do you want to know my favorite type? The one that brings me to my knees wanting to please her?” he asked before pulling my fingers to his lips and licking my blood from them.
I nodded.
“Unable to leave,” he said.
My heart raced, and he sat up; his lips returned to sucking and licking gently along my neck. “You can both come in. Please shut the door behind you.” My voice wavered with the final words.
