The Lady in Red

Walking Sex

He stares at her from across the bar and notices her tight red-and-black accented dress. She leans on the table, alone, and sips her wine cooler. The dim lighting in the establishment playfully dances across her skin. How wonderful would it be to run his hands through her brown hair and yank it? At chin-length, it frames her face and makes her seem mysterious, yet open. The things he could do to her, and wants to. He could hug her hips the way her dress does right now, he could trace her skin the way the lights do, he could tease her lips like the bottle does. She looks around the bar, watching people dance and drink and laugh. She seems to be a person that enjoys watching life happen.

Her eyes meet his for a brief moment. She smirks. He figures she probably knows that she's the walking embodiment of sex, she's a lure to the bedsheets, she's the morning after a wonderful night; the euphoria. The urge to taste her overwhelms him, it drowns out every sound but the imaginary one of her moaning his name.

       "Adam! Don't stop, don't stop, keep-" She moans into the pillow as he thrusts into her, bent over his bed. Sweat rolls down his back and his grip on her wrist, twisted behind her back, tightens when he feels her insides do the same.

       "Right there, that's it," her voice carries through the room like honey and caresses his ears sweetly. This is what he gets off on, the part when his partner begs him to keep going, when they beg him to never stop. He grips her hair with his free hand and yanks her up, arching her back. She moans huskily, then reaches behind her to grab something, anything. She finds his hip with the hand he isn't holding captive, and digs her fingernails into his skin. She draws the smallest amount of blood, but it sends him overboard. He slams her back down on the bed, onto her stomach, and pounds into her with a force so-

       "Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna buy me a drink?" The lady in red taunts him, now standing beside him at the bar. She bats her eyelashes.

       He laughs softly, "It looks like you already have a drink, and that wine cooler won't finish itself, will it?" His gaze travels her body, and now that she's standing, he can see that the sides of her hips dip in slightly before they meet her thighs. Wonderful.

       She takes a seat beside him, "Don't good girls get rewarded what they want?"

       He leans forward on the bar and remarks to her, "That depends on how good you've been. You look like you've had your fair share of being bad."

       She closes the distance between them and hovers only inches away from his face, and squints her eyes slightly, "I can be bad," then she glances down at her lap, "if you want me to. But you'll have to buy me a drink first."

       "A drink it is, then," Adam announces as he orders a whiskey sour from the bartender. "What's your name?"

       She meets his eyes and pushes a strand of hair away from her face, "Natalie. You can call me Nat. Yours?"

       "Adam." The bartender sets the whiskey sour on the counter, and Adam slides it over to Natalie. Nat.

She abandons her wine cooler and sips her new drink. Her fingers slowly trail from the counter of the bar to his knee, then up his thigh. She stops midway and squeezes.

       "What're you doing here alone, then?" The question is part of her interrogation. She's trying to figure him out.

He'll play this game with her, but he won't let her win.

       "Looking for you," Adam grabs her hand and brings it to his face to kiss her knuckles. She blushes and runs her thumb along his bottom lip.

       She bites her lip, "How convenient for me, then. I figured you might've been waiting for a lady friend or something."

       "No, you didn't-" He lets go of her hand to drink his whiskey. "Be honest. You knew I was here by myself. You just want to know if I'm alone, and not just here. But all the time. If you're trying to figure out if I have a girlfriend, I don't. And if I did, I wouldn't be sitting at the bar, alone, for over an hour." A playful smile crosses his face.

He lightly traces the line of her jaw beneath her ear. Her eyes darken. She leans her face into his hand, then turns and takes his thumb in her mouth. She twirls her tongue around it slowly. Her eyes roam his face, searching for a reaction. He sucks in a breath, and then withdraws his hand when she stops. She smiles and downs the rest of her drink. Then, she walks away from the bar, casting a glance and a nod over her shoulder.

That's definitely an invitation. Adam slams forty dollars on the bar beside their drinks and saunters after her. He knows she's leading him somewhere to sin, to do what their bodies have both been begging for. He watches her cut past a corner quickly, so he does the same. Their final destination, after several twists and turns outside the bar, is a small apartment. She waits for him at the entrance underneath the door frame. When he approaches, she grabs his hand and pulls him inside. She leads him through a hall lit by a single lamp, and suddenly, they're standing in her bedroom.

Nat shoves him against the door as soon as he closes it and presses her body against his.

       "Safe word?" Her eyebrow raises.

       He growls, "Don't need one."

Adam picks Natalie up, spreads her legs around his hips, and carries her over to the bed. He lays her down and leans over her. He presses his mouth against hers gently. She tastes like whiskey and he'll soon become an alcoholic for those lips.

His tongue flicks her lips, then enters her mouth and dances with her own tongue. One of his hands grips her hip and the other traces the curves of her body to make its way up and wrap around her throat. He presses his growing hardness against the heat between her legs, then caresses his hand from her ankle to her thigh, squeezing occasionally to appreciate her soft skin. She moans softly while their tongues dance and he pulls her skirt up to her waist. They slowly find a rhythm and grind against each other. He fingers the line of her panties, ready to yank them down. The hand he used to choke her now pulls at her hair as he trails kisses down her jaw to her cleavage. One of her dress's straps has fallen off of her shoulder and he takes it as an invite to bite the skin there.

Right before he can pull her panties down and he's enjoying her sweet, soft sounds, the door bursts open. Their attention is stolen from each other and directed to the abrasive, sudden noise.

       "Nat! What the fuck do you think you're doing? I fucking told you not to mess around anymore. Again? I can't fucking believe this shit," The interruption is a burly man, striding toward them, fast.

       Nat scrambles out from under Adam and rushes to meet the man, "Bunny, it's not what you think. I swear, it doesn't mean anything, I met him at the bar and-"

       "I don't care-" He steps forward and grabs her arm, hard- "I'm done. You hear me? Don't call, don't fucking text, we're through." He shoves her away from him and storms out of the room.

       "Bunny!" Nat chases after him, leaving Adam alone and blue-balled.

       "Fuck." Adam rubs his hands over his face and stares at the ceiling. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."