I´ll find her in the limo

Martha’s perfectly manicured fingernails were drumming restlessly against her knee. Her stiletto-clad foot was tapping noiselessly on the carpeted floor of the limo. She tossed her head slightly for the thousandth time, flipping her hair out of her face. Charles watched each of her agitated movements as though hypnotized. With each one of them, the hem of her slinky black dress exposed a sliver more of her thighs. He tried halfheartedly to push away the many memories he had of running his hands up and down the satiny skin of her legs but this was the limo and he could already feel his hands cocooned in the warmth of her body, the warmth that was trapped there by the dark material covering it. He knew Martha could feel his intense stare by her stiff posture, by the way she was staring persistently out the window.

And, naturally, she refused to turn her head.

As he gazed at her, Charles thought about the smile she had given to him earlier. He hadn’t seen it in a while, not since she’d unzipped her dress on Victrola’s stage. Part of him wished desperately that it had never happened, that  Oswald had managed to choke out the words Martha needed to hear more than anything, because if he had Charles wouldn’t have lost his two best friends.

But another part of him (I wonder which part his step-sister had so accurately put it) loved that she had come to him. Charles loved that she had trusted him that way, loved that she had confided in him.

Loved that she had screamed his name first…

“Fill me in.”

Charles tore his eyes away from her exposed legs at the sound of her voice and looked at her face in confusion.

“What?”

She finally met his eyes and he was startled by the recklessness pouring out of her own.

“You remember. I told Annie she could skip the part of the story where she fucked  Oswald. You said ‘Go ahead, I’ll fill her in later.’ So do it.” A hint of a smile flashed across her features. “Fill me.”

Trying not to take her words too literally, or remember the only other times he had heard her use the word ‘fuck,’ Charles smirked and slid a little closer to her.

“You sure?” he asked darkly, staring unblinkingly into her eyes. She stared right back.

“Positive,” she murmured.

Charles’s smirk widened ever so slightly. “Annie was prancing around on a table with a bottle of champagne, singing, twirling. You know how she got when she was being stared at.” His eyes never left Martha’s face. He drank in every flicker of her eyelids, every hitch of her breath. He wanted her to see what he had seen. He wanted to see her reaction. “Nathanial was on the ground, watching her and grinning, occasionally brushing his fingers against her legs. She just smiled down at him, teasingly, the way she smiled at any guy who looked at her. You know the smile, Martha.”

He knew that she did. Every guy she had given that smile to had wound up in bed with her. Charles watched the way Martha’s throat moved as she swallowed. He thought briefly that he had gone too far, that she wanted him to stop, but then the strangest thing happened. She slid a little closer to him. Their hands, both resting on the cool leather of the seat, were now mere inches apart.

“I know the smile,” she said, her voice so low Charles barely heard her.

” Oswald took her hand and pulled her to the ground. She was giggling at something he’d said, I couldn’t quite catch the words. Whatever they were, they did the trick. When he kissed her, she kissed him back.” He paused, thinking that Martha wouldn’t want to hear the rest. He was surprised she had let him get this far at all, and even more surprised when she gave no external indication that she’d heard what he said.

“Keep going,” she murmured. She was leaning towards him, causing the neckline of her dress to drop dangerously. Now her bare shoulder was exposed, and Charles realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He lifted his eyes back up to her face with difficulty, and immediately wished he hadn’t when he saw her gently bite her bottom lip. It escaped her teeth glistening with moisture. Her eyes were suddenly filled with longing.

“He took a few steps backwards, pulling her with him, and sat down on a chair. She hiked up her dress and straddled him.” Somehow, he wasn’t quite sure how, they had moved even closer together. Their arms were pressed together, her hand was wrapped around his, the entire right side of his body was on fire. Charles brought his hand up and slid his fingers behind Martha’s neck, tangling into her dark hair. Her eyes were closed.

“She grinded against him,” he whispered fiercely into Martha’s ear. “She threw her head back and moaned, and he kissed every inch of skin he could reach.” Martha was on top of him, her hands shoving his jacket off his shoulders. Charles massaged her thighs, eliciting a small cry from her ruby red lips. “Her hands moved between them, undoing his pants. She practically fell onto his dick, and he looked nothing short of ecstatic about it.” His drifted up her legs and slipped beneath the folds of her dress, running up her waist and back and breasts. She raised her arms. Taking the hint, he lifted the garb over her head and tossed it aside. Martha loosened his bowtie and pulled the buttons on Charles’s shirt out of their holes. She bent her head and pressed her lips against his shoulder. She worked her way up, her kisses becoming slower and wetter in the process. Charles’s hands moved deftly along her body. His mind was foggy with desire and the bulge in his pants seemed to grow with the feeling of her mouth on his skin. He groaned deep in his throat when Martha took his earlobe in her teeth.

“Keep going,” she whispered. Her breath was hot against his face. Charles tried to conjure up the image of Annie and  Oswald, but Martha’s nails were running down his chest, making it tremendously difficult to focus on anything else. Somehow, he found his voice.

“Annie ripped  Oswald’s shirt open and pressed herself against him,” he began.

“Like this?” Martha inquired softly, wrapping her arms around Charles’s neck and pulling him towards her until there was no space between their bare chests. She rested her forehead against his and looked at him with eyes as lusty as his own.

“Exactly,” he whispered slowly, placing his hands on her slim hips. He pushed them down gently, until she gasped at the feeling of his erection against the apex of her legs. Martha disentangled her arms from Charles’s neck and began frantically undoing his belt. He, in turn, ran his fingers along the edge of her panties, indescribably pleased by their wetness. He gazed at her glowing face as he slipped his index finger inside her. She threw her head back in pleasure. With his free hand, Charles took a fistful of Martha’s chocolate-colored hair and pulled her face towards his roughly.

“Annie wrapped her legs around his hips,” he murmured shakily as Martha finally managed to shove his pants down far enough. She whimpered when he pulled his teasing fingers from her and ripped her underwear off. “And she rode him hard.”

Charles gripped Martha’s hips and she slid onto him, making his head fall back against the leather. She slowly, carefully adjusted her body until her legs were draped around his waist. Suddenly, they both froze, as though the only just realized the position they were in.

The extremely topless and provocative position.

It had been too long…

The air around them felt charged with electricity as Charles began to move. Martha bit into his shoulder to keep from crying out as he thrust himself into her. She touched every inch of his body that she could reach, apparently loving the way his toned muscles twisted under her hands. He groaned again, unable to believe how much he had missed being inside of her, missed the feel of her soft skin against his own. He tangled his fingers in the chocolate curls caressing her neck and pulled her face towards his. Their lips met.

The kiss was rough, both of them having missed the taste of the other for so long. As their tongues tangled in passion, their hips moved faster. Charles drove himself into her with force that he knew  Oswald wouldn’t have dared to use. He kept Martha’s lips locked onto his as he sent her over the edge, digging her nails into his back for control. Charles managed two more thrusts before he came inside of her.

They didn’t move for several minutes. Both were breathing heavily, recovering from their nearly simultaneous orgasms. Martha’s head dropped exhaustedly onto Charles’s shoulders and his hands rested on her back, rubbing it gently. When she recovered some of her energy, Martha lifted herself off of him, blushing in embarrassment. She quickly threw her dress over her head and attempted to restore her tangled hair back to its original flawless state. Charles watched her as he pulled up his pants. His mind was still fuzzy with pleasure and alcohol, but the reality of the situation was beginning to set in.

He had sex with Martha in a limo.

Again.

Charles rubbed his face with his hands, trying to stimulate some coherent thoughts.

We had sex again.

 Oswald’s going to kill me.

But, fuck, she was amazing.

He looked up just in time to see Martha inspecting the torn black material that had once been a whole article of clothing. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and crushed the ripped underwear into a ball. Once again avoiding his eyes, Martha sat down as far away from Charles as she possibly could and resumed staring out the window. He tore his eyes away from her and grabbed a bottle of scotch and a glass from the small bar. The amber liquid burned his throat, but he swallowed the whole cupful at once. When he looked up again, the limo was pulling over where  Oswald waited on the sidewalk. Charles took a deep, steadying breath as his best friend opened the door and sat down next to Martha. She had slid over reluctantly to make room and Charles was painfully aware of her closeness.

 Oswald told the driver the address and the vehicle pulled away from the curb smoothly. He glanced over at his companions.

“I’m surprised you two didn’t kill each other on the drive over,” he said coldly before imitating Martha and staring out the window. Charles couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Nathanial, but we’re both still very much alive.”

Martha’s hand tightened around her torn underwear.

Charles’s smirk widened. This could be fun.