Richard Northwood Presents: The Erotic Fiction Diaries Cat and Mouse
Seated in his usual spot at the end of the bar Mike takes a long sip of his frosty beer, not his first that evening. He is alone now as his collegues left shortly after dinner, and he stayed behind to watch the game and lose track of how much he’s had to drink. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her standing in the entrance, her eyes scanning the room, a carefully considered smile painted on her face. He knows this routine and as she approaches him he prepares himself in a way that he is familiar with. Taking a seat next to him she looks up, her amber cat-like eyes meet his and he feels the adrenaline building. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s been a terribly long day, would you mind buying me a drink and then taking me back to your place?’ she asks in a voice she likely considers innocent enough. Her luscious crimson lips light the fire of desire inside him, blood now rushing into his other head when he says ‘how about we skip the drink here and I’ll give you a stiff one when we get to my place?’
She says that she thinks its a great idea, and he tells her to sit there and wait until the game is over and asks her if she’d like something to drink. She orders a double gin on the rocks and the game finishes before he has time to feed her another.
Cynthia slides up next to him in his truck and she secretly wonders if her crab shampoo has worked since she started using it last week. This man is her tall, dark and handsome perfect stranger, and she wants to leave him itching for more rather than simply itching. They pull into his apartment complex and stumble inside, not because they are hopelessly all over each other, but because she is foolishly drunk and acting like a whore. She can barely walk straight.
As they move over to his couch she swings her scarf off and it hits his lamp shade and knocks the lamp to the floor. On its way down the lamp collides with a coffee table and knocks a half empty beer can onto the carpet, and Mike yells out ‘Fuck!’
He runs into the kitchen for a towel but by the time he returns Cynthia is already on her hands and knees cleaning the mess with her scarf. Mike tells her to stop and he continues the blotting with a towel and just then Cynthia leans in and french kisses him. They hit the floor rolling and Mike tells Cynthia that ‘she is beautiful’ and she replies ‘please touch my cunt’.
He pulls up her skirt and slides down her panties and is instantly amazed that a woman so young and beautiful could care so little about her grooming. He feels as though he’d be better at this task with a machete in place of his tongue but he presses his lips against her clit anyways and she gasps.
Furiously now her hips do buck, and when she’s had enough she pushes him off and climbs on top. Aggressively now does she fumble with his zipper desperate to unleash his manhood and hoping that its of satisfying dimensions. She slowly slides him into her mouth and quietly wonders if that red bump on his lip is herpes.
As Mike slides in and out of her mouth he begins to run his hands through her hair, holding her in place, demonstrating his strength. He catches his finger in her earring and quickly jerks back his arm but by then her hair had become entangled in the mess and she tries to yell but instead gags on his cock.
She quickly takes a sip from the water bottle that has probably been sitting at his bedside for three weeks and tells Mike that she ‘wants to fuck now’ and he says sorry again for ‘ripping her hair out’.
She slides Mike inside of her and he immediately notes that she could be wetter. Initially it is painful but eventually it gets worse. He asks her if she thinks they should use a condom knowing he doesn’t have any, and she tells him that its up to him while increasing the speed of their sex.
She rolls off of him onto her back and spreads her legs wide open. Her right leg swings too far and falls off the side of the bed and she thinks she’s hurt her lower back. He climbs on top of her and pushes himself inside of her, holding his arms straight, towering powerfully above her, wincing with each magnificent thrust.
She tells him to fuck her harder and he tells her he is going to come and she screams to pull out and he does and he jerks off on her stomach.
And nothing happens. He doesn’t come and he immediately loses his erection. She pushes him off and runs to the bathroom and he rolls over and falls asleep.
When Mike wakes up Cynthia is gone, so he hops out of bed and stumbles around to make sure that nothing is stolen. There is no trace of her except for a scarf on the back of his toilet, which is now covered in (and filled with) vomit. On his mirror she has written her phone number in toothpaste. And so he calls it and it is fake.
So Mike goes back to bed and when he wakes his penis is itchy.
Richard Forsythe Northwood