Assorted MGG Characters | Oneshots

Phantasmagoria (Raymond, E)

Summary: Raymond is pretty sure that the girl he spent the night with was not of this world.

Rating: Explicit (NSFW, 18+)

Content Warning: Allusions/Flashbacks to penetrative sex

A/N: I'm just consolidating some books that I don't plan on adding to substantially. So, welcome back re-readers! And hello to the new ones!

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There are some things you just shouldn't think about in public. For example, when you are out with a friend sitting in a very public cafe and trying to catch up after a disastrous house party, you should not be thinking about the girl you fucked the night before. Partially because hiding an erection while hungover is way harder than it should be, and partially because it makes it impossible to hear anything that is being said to you.

But I couldn't not think about her. Maybe it was just the fact that I hadn't had sex in ages, but there was something about the experience I'd had the night before that I just couldn't shake. It didn't make any rational sense — nothing about the sex had been different from sex with any other girl who had been unfortunate enough to fuck me. And yet, every time I so much as blinked, my vision was wracked with images of her.

Just then, I'd flashed back to the way her jaw had dropped open as a loud, desperate moan fell from her lips. Her hands had been splayed on my chest as she straddled me, only barely keeping her balance as her hips rolled with impossible precision each time. She was so unbelievably fucking beautiful, it hurt to think about her for too long.

I could hear her, though, a siren calling out to me from my own memory with a raspy voice. Her vocal cords had been practically shredded from the constant use, but she never stopped. Every time she slowed down, I'd grabbed her hips and brought them down harder just to see her response. She'd never disappointed me.

Her skin had felt like velvet, but even that was nothing compared to the way it had felt when I was inside her. It was probably just my mind playing tricks on me, wishful thinking to convince myself that I deserved to fuck her in the first place, but I swore I could remember her coming on my dick while she rode me. And I definitely, definitely remember what it felt like when I finished. Not just because it was seriously the best orgasm I'd ever experienced in my life, but because she'd reacted to it like she could feel it herself. Like she got off on the mere idea of giving me pleasure.

To summarize, I'd found the perfect woman the night before, and I couldn't remember her name. Even worse, I was pretty sure she was dead.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

The question brought me back to reality, albeit briefly. I considered taping my eyes open to stop the images from returning for a minute, but I also wasn't convinced it would stop them.

"Yes. I mean, no. I don't know," I sighed, rubbing a tired hand over my aching temple. "I'm sorry, I'm just distracted. There was this girl at the party last night and—"

"Stop. A girl? Who?" He asked.

I tried to pretend like his incredulity wasn't insulting. Of course, it looked even worse for me when I had to give my answer.

"I... don't know her name."

"You don't know her name?" There was a slight chuckle when he asked that time.

I wasn't laughing, though. In fact, the frustrated groan that rumbled through me was pretty much the exact opposite of laughter. Then when I spoke, it was through a whine. "No, and I can't stop thinking about her. It's driving me insane."