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Assassin (The Prelude)
I talk to you, maybe once or twice a month. We cross paths on ambulance calls more than anything. We are friends, but not best friends. I know I could call you for anything, anytime. You're just a good guy like that.
I've known you more than 10 years. The first time I saw you, you had walked into the firehouse and I thought, he's hot. Not only were you hot, but there was just something about you, I really wanted to get to know. Then you opened your mouth and I was devastated. You were such an ass hole . What a waste. I left that fire department about a year after that and went to another one on the south side of the county. I didn't see you for a few years.
Present day, we have been talking a lot more. You work full time nights, so a lot of times if I am online at night you pop on. I had been thinking about getting my nipples re pierced . I asked you to take me to get them redone. I love my body modifications. It's just the lead up to getting them that freaks me out a bit. I need someone to hold my hand. With six tattoo's and multiple holes, you would think I would have the hang of this by now. My nipples aren't very sensitive. I loved my nipples pierced. They become constantly tingly and warm. Getting them pierced opened up a whole new sexual world for me. I was always turned on.
Anyway, back to the story. It's Friday evening. You came to the house, to pick me up. I'm ready. I have been ready for weeks.
The truck. You have no idea. You will be hearing a lot about the truck. I can't even begin to describe this vehicle properly. Custom hot, custom sexy, with a custom bad boy. Inferno red and graphite gray, silver tribal with some of the best ghost flames I have ever seen. There's too many mechanical modifications to mention. The interior, yummy. The front seat is buttery soft, red and black suede. The kind you want to strip down naked to lie on to enjoy. The back seat, leather. It's rich, and just as soft as the suede. I have got to remember to wear a skirt next time I am in this beauty.
I look over watching you. You're wearing sunglasses, as usual. Even dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, you always looks put together. Your left arm is casually resting on the door and right hand is thrown over the steering wheel. Get you out one on one and the inner bad boy comes out. I get absolutely lost when it comes to you and your truck. Oh, if you had any idea.
You admitted during one of our late night chats that you had yet to "break in the truck."
I look over again. I wonder if you're even paying attention to me. Would you notice if I started to slowly strip my clothes off? Would you notice if I laid naked across the seats? I would love to let the suede caress my body.
I have this uncontrollable urge to slide over, run my nails from the top of your shaved head, down to the base of your neck. I wonder, could I nuzzle and bite your earlobe? I work my way down and taste your neck. Meanwhile, my hand is gently and absently tracing a random pattern on the top of your thigh. Do you care? You are so stoic. I see the slightest flicker along your jaw line. I'm going to get reaction out of you if it kills me. I don't care. I work your neck, I bite down where your neck and shoulder meet.
Good, that definitely got a physical response out of you. You've been hard, but I actually feel the energy surge beneath my fingers. There is the faintest trace of a smile playing across your lips.
I love a challenge, especially one that drives me crazy. I go back to the beginning and start nibbling the top of your ear. I graze down it with my teeth. I suck at your earlobe, using just the tiniest hint of teeth. I kiss, nibble and lick your neck. Even though you're not responding the way I would like you to, I am enjoying myself. I let the hand on your thigh creep and flirt with your hard cock. My hand goes back to your thigh as if it were an accident. Nothing, nothing at all. I almost burst out laughing. There is absolutely no question that this can be played off as an accident anymore. My sex is hot and throbbing, and I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't get any relief. My, soon to be pierced, nipples are tingling against the black lace of my bra. I am having trouble just thinking clearly, let alone planning my next move. It's all I can do not to stop bothering with you and start tending to my own needs.
With a huge sigh of exasperation, I flop back onto my side of the seat. You haven't moved. I can't believe it. I stare out my window, not really seeing anything. I have to figure out something to say. I just royally screwed up our friendship. Since when did you become Mr. Morality? I don't know where we are, I don't really care to be honest. I just have to figure out some way to salvage my dignity. I don't even realize that we have come to a stop. I can't look at you right now. I'm trying to come up with a plausible, yet mildly ridiculous excuse about mixing my allergy medications.