I Werewoman 1 Page 6

  Relieved to have successfully sorted through my feelings, and to have reached a decision about how to handle things with Katie (in the morning), I finished the last dregs of my second glass of ‘Fruit Punch’ and tossed the empty cup into a nearby receptacle. Then, deciding that I’d had enough of this party for the night, I pulled my phone out of my pants pocket and unlocked it, bringing up Discord and texting at Brian to find out what his status was:

  RealityCipher: Today at 00:18 PM. Thinking about heading out now. How’s you?

  It took my roommate a couple minutes to respond, which I’d figured would be the case. If he wasn’t deeply enmeshed in conversation somewhere on top of the roof, he was probably deeply enmeshed in… other things. It would take him a couple minutes to get a response together, and that was no big deal. I spent the intervening time gazing out over the city again, enjoying the breeze and the bright light that reflected all about. The full moon was almost at its zenith now, and its luminescence was bathing the city in silver. Reflected moonbeams gleamed off metal surfaces and glass windows for blocks around, casting the light back and spraying it around in a fountain of glittering illumination. Boston was never as bright at night as it was on the night of a full moon. Even 18 stories up, between the light of the moon and the reflected light bouncing off thousands of windows, hubcaps, and other reflective surfaces, I could make out students and other pedestrians passing along the sidewalks down below almost as well as I would have been able to had the sun been up.

  Finally, about five minutes after my initial query, my phone finally blooped with an incoming response.

  Crashpanda: Today at 00:23 PM. I’s good, man! Heading for burgers and beers with Britany from EGPT620. Want us to pick something up for you?

  Sighing, I shook my head, more than a little annoyed. Of course, I thought resentfully, he wasn’t even at the party any longer. I probably could have left half an hour ago, and completely avoided my less-than-positive encounter with Katie. Thanks for saying something, dude.

  “Fucking fuck, fucking… fucksticks… Graahhhh…” I grumbled at the screen of my phone as I composed a response. I didn’t include any reference to my annoyance—I knew that without a full accounting of the night’s events Brian probably wouldn’t understand why I was suddenly so annoyed with him, and I didn’t feel like getting into any of the details with him. Better just to let the whole thing go.

  RealityCipher: Today at 00:24 PM. Nah, I’m alright. Gotta head to bed soon anyway. Have fun with Britany. Staying at her place?

  I typed the last bit while mentally crossing my fingers. Although I was no longer upset about the Katie-and-Pierre thing, I wasn’t exactly in a super mood, and the last thing I wanted to deal with tonight while I was trying to get some sleep (so that I could get up super early in the morning and work all day, hooray!) was having to listen to my lucky SOB of a roommate getting it on all night with some girl from one of his Egyptology classes.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have nearly as long to wait for Brian’s next response. Almost as if he’d been expecting the question, he typed a response right away.

  Crashpanda: Today at 00:24 PM. Yes, mom. �� Night man. Have good work tomorrow.

  RealityCipher: Today at 00:24 PM. Night dude.

  My social obligations for the evening conclusively fulfilled, I swiped Discord away off of my screen and shut my phone down. Excited to finally be heading back downstairs, I pushed off from the balustrades with fair bit of gusto and turned towards the rooftop stairwell door. In fact, I pushed away from the railing so quickly, and without in the slightest bit watching where I was going, that as I turned and launched myself towards the stairwell door, I nearly plowed directly into the Airbrushed Woman in the Red Dress whom I’d been so fixedly staring at a little over half an hour ago.

  “Woah!-oooly Shit!” I shouted, startled and shivering right down into my shoes to find the impossibly gorgeous dark-haired woman standing directly behind me, apparently watching me. Why? I couldn’t help but wonder, even as I struggled to bring my hurtling momentum to an immediate, impossible halt.

  Pulling up sharply so as not to barrel right into the beautiful girl, I grabbed hold of the trash receptacle into which I’d just tossed an empty cup little more than five minutes ago and crashed sideways into its stone-formed square form, using its density and bulk to stop myself before I could crash face-first into the ground at the raven-haired girl’s—Aha! I was right!—red-high-heels-clad feet. The crash was fairly loud, and heavy, and I had to react quickly a second time to catch the suddenly tipping trash receptacle before it could tumble-end-over end onto the concrete rooftop floor and spill its contents all over the place—including on the delicate feet of the gorgeous woman in the red dress.

  For her part, the impossibly beautiful woman standing in front of me as I launched myself away from the edge of the rooftop took only a single, delicate half-step back to avoid my stumbling collision with the trash receptacle, and raised but one sharply-defined dark eyebrow at the trash container before I was able to catch it and stand it upright again—or, well, maybe 90% of the way.

  “Sorry!” I called out over the thumping noise of the Chillstep Mix to the goddess in the red dress, who was still standing in front of me, watching me scramble to prevent our collision with a softly bemused smile on her painted, blood-red lips. I slowly straightened up, careful to gradually let go of the trash container, lest it resume its headlong tumble towards the floor. I kept my eyes on the pretty girl’s face, though. “I didn’t know anyone was standing behind me.”

  In fact, no one had been the last time I’d looked, some five minutes or so ago. How had she snuck up behind me so quietly that I wasn’t even proximally aware of someone’s physical presence there? And why was she here?

  The raven-haired beauty watched me in silence for another moment or so, a slightly uncertain look in her eyes, in addition to the bemused smile on her lips. I heard—and saw—her sniff the air slightly, as if she was checking for something—or double-checking, maybe?—and then watched the uncertainty in her eyes seemingly resolve itself, and the bemused smile on her lips burst into a bright, beautiful one instead.

  “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” The sound of her voice was every bit alluring as the rest of her, and it sent shivers rippling through me. An abrupt and unexpected sense of yearning, of longing, of jealous need and desire surged through me as I listened to it, and whereas half an hour before I’d been staring across the rooftop at her with a feeling of purely sexual desire, now as I looked at her, listened to her, up close and in person, I found that still-headily-intense sexual desire, which was roaring back on full-throttle now that I was quickly getting over my shock at finding her standing directly behind me and nearly plowing into her as I headed for the stairwell, mixing with strangely unfamiliar sensations of… envy, and of… longing… as well. She was just so gorgeous, so impossibly beautiful and assertively feminine and… suddenly, part of me wished that I could feel what that was like, too.

  That was… odd, and unexpected.

  “Ummm,” I blinked at the woman, finding it difficult to think of anything clever to say while I struggled with the strange and unfamiliar mixture of envy and desire that was now coursing through my heart and mind. Finally, instead of saying anything, I found myself just… standing there, struck dumb, taking in the delicate gracefulness and beauty of her face. Though it wasn’t as soft up close as it had looked from far away, it was every bit as beautiful. There was a sharpness to it, a bit of a hard edge that I could see up close. The exquisitely drawn sparkly black eyeliner around her eyes and the purplish-red shadow spread across her upper lids and ghosted out to her eyebrows combined to give her a ferocious, almost predatory look, and the blood-red of her lips was just a shade darker and richer against the ivory cast of her unblemished skin than I’d ever seen another woman wear it, almost as if she wanted people to think of blood when they looked at her.

  She was easily the most beautiful woman I had ever lai
n eyes on, and the combination of her beauty and the allure of her voice brought to the fore of my heart and mind a strange mixture of lust and longing, but there was something strangely discomfiting about her as well, an unnerving sense of threat and predation, and the total package just left me standing, speechless, in front of her.

  “Ummm…” I repeated, stupidly.

  Her smile only grew. She seemed pleased by how helpless I appeared to be in front of her. Batting her eyelashes slowly, she took a step to the side around me and reached out with one dainty, delicate hand, running a long, elegant finger (topped by nearly half-an-inch-long nails coated in a shiny blood-red gloss) along the faintly-stubbled line of my jaw.

  “I’m sorry things did not go well with your little blonde friend.” She paced slowly around and behind me as she spoke, her high heels delicately clip-clopping in time with her slow steps, he finger trailing slowly along the line of my jaw, down my neck, and over the ridge of my shoulders. Despite the pleasurable sensations that her touch sent coursing through my body, and the swell of new desires and longings that I had never felt so potently before, I still frowned at the words she spoke.

  “You were watching?” The gorgeous woman in the red dress had largely vanished from my mind once I had Katie bouncing up and down in front of me to distract me, and when I’d remembered to look for her again, she had vanished, but I remembered now—as if the memory was beaming down at me from the moon through a sky, once heavy with dark, scattering clouds of confusion, but now suddenly, strikingly clear—the sensation that she had somehow been searching for something earlier tonight—something that she might not have been able to describe as she was searching for it, but would instantly be able to recognize as me one she found it.

  Had she ‘found’ me now?

  “I was,” she admitted, a softly menacing undercurrent running underlying her tone now. She paused in her slow circle around me so that she stood directly behind me, the sound of her clip-clopping heels coming to an immediate halt, “from not so very far away, in fact.” A note of practicedly over-played sympathy mingled with the alluring menace of her tone. “I’m sorry to hear about ‘Pierre.’”

  “I saw you, too,” I responded, my curiosity growing far apace of the fear that her unusual behavior and softly menacing tone seemed to imply that I ought to feel. “Before. You were scanning the crowd, looking for… something.” I almost said, ‘looking for me,’ but that still didn’t feel quite right. Somehow, I still knew that finding me had only been a consequence of her search, not the aim.

  “I was,” she responded, whisperingly, leaning in close to me from behind. I felt the sweet softness of her breasts smooshing against my back, and my whole body trembled with shivering delight, the hardness in my pants aching against the tight constriction of my pants while her wet lips grazed the skin of my neck. “And I found you.”

  “Why were you looking for… something?” I asked, hearing my own voice drop to a whisper as the tantalizing nearness of her delicious, desirable body caused my heartrate to skyrocket, and forced my breaths to come in excited pants, “And how do you know it’s me?”

  She didn’t answer those questions. Instead, she brushed her damp lips slowly up the length of my neck while her hands encircled my torso from behind and rushed swiftly up my chest. I released a long, shuddering exhalation of pleasure and quivered under her hands. All of a sudden, she froze, burying her nose deep in the short hairs at the base of my skull and breathing in. She held me securely as she did so, and although the sensation of… of being smelled sent shockwaves of unanticipated pleasure rippling through me, her grip proved surprisingly strong, and she held me fast against her nose even as I felt uncontrollable spasms of pleasure arc through my neck and shoulders.

  “Ohhhh, I knew it,” I heard her purr a moment later, just before she abruptly released me. Grinning, she danced around the front of me again, eyes sparkling as she grabbed me by the hands and pulled me slowly towards the rooftop stairwell door. “I knew it was you…”

  “How did you know?” I asked, my heart pounding in my ears as my eyes drank in the sight of her perfect body once again, watching the soft, almost satiny fabric of her dress sliding across the toned tautness of her tummy, the bare, flat emptiness of her pelvic triangle. I felt the hardness in my pants rub uncomfortably against the constraint of my cotton boxers as I watched her full, firm breasts, the milky-white tops of which were exposed by the cut of the dress, gently bounce and strain against the confines of her dress with every step that she took. The sight of her perfect, amazingly ripe, feminine form held me transfixed again. “And… what did you know?”

  She answered the first question easily enough, a flirty, hungry smile riding upon her blood-red lips and a satisfied, even pleased look in her eyes as she tugged me slowly towards the stairwell door and watched me watch her body move. “The scent of you. When you’re in a fully aroused state, you release the most delicious pheromones, and when I smell you, I can read those pheromones, and the desires attached to them.”

  “You can… ‘read’ my desires?” I asked, feeling my face flush with embarrassment as I heard the words. Of course, that sounded ridiculous when spoken aloud, but somehow, it didn’t feel ridiculous in my head. And there were two very strong desires, intertwined and competing, inside of me at the moment. While I was fairly sure the mysterious Airbrushed goddess could easily pick up the first one from my body language—the hardon straining against my pants, and the panting of my breath—I wasn’t sure I wanted her to know about the second one. I worried that if she could read my other fantasy—my other desire—she might take it the wrong way. Not that I understood exactly what I meant by that. I wasn’t even sure I understood the second fantasy. But the sexy, seductive smile on the strange vixen’s face only grew bigger and more wanton as she read the embarrassment written all over my own.

  “Oh yes,” she purred, pulling me close to her once again. She leaned forward, brushed her soft cheek along my rough, scruffily stubbled one, and wrapped two succulently painted lips around one of my earlobes. My upper body jerked reflexively, and gasped and shivered with pleasure. But she did not let go. After sucking on my earlobe for a minute, she pressed her wet lips softly against my ear and whispered, “And both of them turn me on.”

  Well, fuck. I damn near came in my pants at that.

  We were nearly at the door now, and once we reached it, she half turned, grabbing the lever handle of the thick metal sheet-door (which typically students—including myself—a good bit of leverage and a firm yank to open) with just one of her dainty little hands and turned it effortlessly, hauling the heavy door open with a backhand tug of her wrist as easily as if she was flipping a flap-jack. My eyes widened with amazement, but I followed her into the stairwell without question, my curiosity now every bit as engaged as my arousal, and stared at her both in lust and fascination.

  “Who ARE you?” I asked, in a strangely mixed, part-horny, part-mystified tone.

  She laughed, her eyes sparkling as she drew me in closer once again. Glancing back over her shoulder as we backed off of the rooftop and into the rooftop stairwell, and then down the stairs and all around the upper landing once we were fully inside, she checked to see if anyone else was around, anyone who might eavesdrop on us. No one was in evidence, however, and the heavy metal door clanged shut behind us. Finding the landing and stairwell empty, the strangely beauty who had her hands on me spun us around in the small space of the stairwell’s upper landing and shoved me up against the concrete wall in the furthest, darkest corner of the landing—now at my back—with surprising forcefulness.

  “Oooff!” I felt the air rush from my lungs at the unexpected heft of her shove, and the rough concrete surface of the wall dug into my back from behind, but I wasn’t really hurt or anything. If anything, the sudden roughness brought a sharp edge to the haze of pleasure that I was floating in. The raven-haired beauty was grinned flirtatiously, tauntingly at me and watched to see how I would respond to her sudden
roughness, so I bared my teeth at her in a playful growl and decided to respond with a little forcefulness of my own, grabbing at her wrists and yanking her in close so that I could press a passionate kiss against her soft, sensuous lips.

  “Mmmmm! Yesssss!” The airbrushed goddess in my arms stumbled forward slightly on her heels when I pulled her roughly close to me, but she met my passionate kiss with hungry lips of her own. “Yessss,” she hissed again through our locked lips, “That’s is what I want…”

  For two minutes or more, the two of us matched lips with one another in a ferocious, stolen-gasps-for-breath and frenzied-panting apparent competition to determine which one of us could out kiss the other. For my money, the safe bet was definitely on the curvy temptress opposite of me, but I was giving it my all as well, driven on by the equally desperate twin desires to both physically ravage the impossibly gorgeous creature in my arms and not to disappoint her.

  When the two of us finally came up for air, desperately gasping and shaking and quivering together in the stairwell, we stared, gape-mouthed and grinning at each other. At last, the beautiful woman who had thus far chosen not to share her name with me finally deigned to do so.

  “My name is Serena,” she whispered, around big, gulping breaths.

  “Rick—,” I forced out, my heart hammering in my chest as I raced to catch my own breath, “Richard, if you like.”

  “I do like ‘Richard,’” Serena purred at me, kissing and nuzzling her way around my collar and up the side of my neck as she pressed her velvety soft, sinfully curved body against my own. Her generous, ample breasts—what I’d guess were a C-cup at least—smooshed deliciously against the flat firmness of my semi-athletic upper body, and she ground the ample swell of one of her generous hips and the firm bone beneath against the straining hardness outlined prominently through the bulge of my jeans.