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The Lady Sera
Meteorite
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2015
- Location
- Midwest USA
This story contains adult material intended for persons of legal age, 18+ years in USA, and is not intended to be copied and pasted elsewhere for any purpose, especially in such ways as to allow underage persons to view it.
This story contains the following adult situations: drinking/alcohol use & addiction, smoking, drug use & addiction, murder & explicit criminal acts, elements of BDSM, heavy and explicit sexual scenes & nudity, coarse language throughout, and anything else I decide I want to put in here. Read with an open mind, and with discretion.
"Fucking hell!"
It wasn't quite a scream, and not quite a whisper. A thin growl served as the undertone to her expression. He grinned devilishly up at her. He pressed his thick fingers harder against the small of her back. His hands were rough, and large enough to almost encircle Lacy's entire, tiny waist. He lifted her naked form and held her midsection over his own body for just a moment.
Her dirty champagne hair, damp with sweat, hung in matted strands over his shoulders. Her chest rose and fell rapidly; her naked breasts glinting in the dim light of the desk lamp. She carefully bit down on her dark pink lower lip in anticipation of his next move, craving it. She was angled in such a way that, despite part of her being held less than an inch away from him, she could still reach his chest with her hands. She'd already dug her nails into his skin; now, she stroked his firm chest. Her liquid hazel eyes, clouded with pleasure and exertion, quivered ever so slightly.
Jaime saw her look, and his smirk widened. Before she could draw another breath, he pulled her body back down on top of him, driving his own hips upward in the same motion. As he harshly entered her again, filling her every desire, Lacy arched her spine, raked her nails down his chest, and cried out his name loud enough to rouse the neighbors.
That pushed her over the threshold. After his name, she could only speak in guttural moans and low growls. It took Jaime several more minutes to finish. When he was finally done emptying himself into her, Lacy rested her body against his, her head on his chest. She listened as his heart rate came down to normal levels.
It was nearly four hours before either of them moved or uttered a word. A sharp, piercing squeal startled Lacy from her sex-induced slumber. She slapped at the end table, feeling for her fucking cell phone. On the third slap, she felt the familiar rectangular shape and brought it to her ear.
“Yeah?” she grumbled into the speaker.
“Lace,” came a gruff, masculine voice. “Goddamn, where the hell have you been?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but was crudely interrupted.
“Never-fucking-mind. Just get your ass down to Fifth and Maple. Got a 48 down here.”
“Yeah, sure. Be there in five.”
She hung up and rolled over. Jaime was still passed out next to her. That man could sleep through just about anything. Just about. She knew one thing that would wake him up. Her eyes slid down his body.
“No,” she muttered to herself. “Ain't got time for that.”
She slid off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. A quick washcloth bath later, she felt clean enough to go to work. Finding her clothes took a little more time. By the time she finally made it toward the door, it was twenty minutes later. As she tugged open the apartment door, she stopped and twisted back into the bedroom. She snatched her police badge off the worn oak dresser before heading out into the night.
This story contains the following adult situations: drinking/alcohol use & addiction, smoking, drug use & addiction, murder & explicit criminal acts, elements of BDSM, heavy and explicit sexual scenes & nudity, coarse language throughout, and anything else I decide I want to put in here. Read with an open mind, and with discretion.
"Fucking hell!"
It wasn't quite a scream, and not quite a whisper. A thin growl served as the undertone to her expression. He grinned devilishly up at her. He pressed his thick fingers harder against the small of her back. His hands were rough, and large enough to almost encircle Lacy's entire, tiny waist. He lifted her naked form and held her midsection over his own body for just a moment.
Her dirty champagne hair, damp with sweat, hung in matted strands over his shoulders. Her chest rose and fell rapidly; her naked breasts glinting in the dim light of the desk lamp. She carefully bit down on her dark pink lower lip in anticipation of his next move, craving it. She was angled in such a way that, despite part of her being held less than an inch away from him, she could still reach his chest with her hands. She'd already dug her nails into his skin; now, she stroked his firm chest. Her liquid hazel eyes, clouded with pleasure and exertion, quivered ever so slightly.
Jaime saw her look, and his smirk widened. Before she could draw another breath, he pulled her body back down on top of him, driving his own hips upward in the same motion. As he harshly entered her again, filling her every desire, Lacy arched her spine, raked her nails down his chest, and cried out his name loud enough to rouse the neighbors.
That pushed her over the threshold. After his name, she could only speak in guttural moans and low growls. It took Jaime several more minutes to finish. When he was finally done emptying himself into her, Lacy rested her body against his, her head on his chest. She listened as his heart rate came down to normal levels.
It was nearly four hours before either of them moved or uttered a word. A sharp, piercing squeal startled Lacy from her sex-induced slumber. She slapped at the end table, feeling for her fucking cell phone. On the third slap, she felt the familiar rectangular shape and brought it to her ear.
“Yeah?” she grumbled into the speaker.
“Lace,” came a gruff, masculine voice. “Goddamn, where the hell have you been?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but was crudely interrupted.
“Never-fucking-mind. Just get your ass down to Fifth and Maple. Got a 48 down here.”
“Yeah, sure. Be there in five.”
She hung up and rolled over. Jaime was still passed out next to her. That man could sleep through just about anything. Just about. She knew one thing that would wake him up. Her eyes slid down his body.
“No,” she muttered to herself. “Ain't got time for that.”
She slid off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. A quick washcloth bath later, she felt clean enough to go to work. Finding her clothes took a little more time. By the time she finally made it toward the door, it was twenty minutes later. As she tugged open the apartment door, she stopped and twisted back into the bedroom. She snatched her police badge off the worn oak dresser before heading out into the night.
