Sexual Relationships 
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TWO : LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR
I chug down the entire kettle in one sitting.
"Murder mystery partay! Murder mystery partay! Murder mystery partay-"
The host, Nancy White, takes no notice of me.
Oh, but my evening date does. Yes, she adores dressing Victorian style more than anything. "Looks like we're out of tea. Marion, get us some more." Yes to that as well, she does like her English accent. But, Kira Lilith, hates attending commotion with a passion. "Where is this orgy I sacrificed a good night for?" Thankfully, she sits across from me, on the opposite side of table. Scarf around hanging low over bare shoulders makes it so difficult for her to do anything but whisper-shout at me from there, as if strapped.
"An orgy?" Nancy comments lightly. "That is a fantastic idea for another time. Yes, Mr... Mr... Mr Virginia?" Her date, a mild mannered man my age, merely shrugs not knowing how to follow.
That makes the two of us.
"Make some room for steak and casserole, y'all!"
A black lady enters the dinner hall. It's all fake, of course, but sitting around a long rectangular table with people showing off their "native spoken British" skills is quite... Pretentious, pretentiously over-glorified.
Anyway, Nancy's got money. So many frails hands join to assure a pleasant meal for her guests, a twenty something people. "Fancy a cigar, Luc?" Owen holds out a packet for the young men, Nancy's best man.
I might as well.
As I stretch myself attempting to get it from the "merchant" sitting next to Lilith — I feel flustered. There's an object touching my groin. Soft thing rubbing against it. "I-I think I'm cool. Thanks."
"English accent," reprimands the duke, a classmate from history. Oh the irony.
"I can't moan in English ..."
Lilith presses. "You can't or you won'tmy pale Our little dirty talk doesn't go unnoticed. I'm not getting a footjob, not on Nancy's watch. "You look constipated, my dear fellow."
"That's just my face."
Lilith's ego levels shoot up, I adore her grinning.
"Do you have any allergies?" Gwendolyn questions from the shadows. She's located farther than everyone cuz she's the smallest. Biased.
I stifle a groan.
Not my balls, you little fondler.
"Not any... That... I know off."
"Even being as a native British yourself, wouldn't you say your English is bit rusty. Do we agree?"
Bella voices it out. "Yes! You should totally read more books! Kira reads them all the time!"
Kira carves a slice. As she does, I don't miss her stealing a glance, to assure I'm struggling —"maybe I can show you around sometime, if you like."
Her goddamn perfect ASMR voice. Fuck.
|
"Okay so like Miss Barbary(Bella) is died and nobody knows of a thing! Read through your histories! No peeking, Tony!! Yes, keep going..."
The room caters to Nancy's whims. Good thing her character's died. She's so obsessive -
"Fancying a boner...?"
"Kira!" I gasp. I sense before I turn to her. She's had enough of the balcony fresh air and is now back in the game. "We're both writers, you should be ashamed of yourself." I take her rose creme gloved hand and guide it dangerously close to my shaft. "Your major should be bullshitting people, " and then, she wets her fingers.
I'm in no position to argue.
I wouldn't even if I were.
While others are pretending somebody shot Nancy and have gathered around the "corpse", Kira and I stand aside. Her fingers, middle and index, soaked with filth move towards my mouth which I readily suck on. Also, the other hand charges my member, squeezing it as the precum coats on it.
Once that happens, the stroking stops. Now I get the chance fondling her breast. There are one too many layers on it, much to my disappointment, I really doubt she's feeling anything. "Your hideous gown finally came in handy."
"Hideous you say, my lord?"
Fine, it isn't. A cherry red color engulfs her into feminine form of red sea. Except, she's more like dead sea. With her hollow gaze and careless touching.
Determined to get her as nervous and excited as I grew — I zip down her dress. Run a hand over spine. As she was chubby, I couldn't feel much on that either, so I pinch it mildly on different places.
She gasps, suddenly. "Well, well, well - clearly I've underestimated you." Her nail, the index finger one, digs low onto my flesh almost in threatening fashion. She kisses my cheek and murmurs —"let's christain Nancy's room."
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