0 comments/ 15891 views/ 2 favorites Dark Eyes By: easyridr101 I'd noticed her looking at me several times-often as we passed in the hallways and as we rode the elevators to and from classes where we were conservatory students. She was small--the top of her head barely came up to my chin, and I was only 5'11". But much more striking than her small stature were her eyes-- of a strange, mellow brown, suffused with a peculiar warm radiance--which seemed not only large for such a small girl, but aglow with a strange intensity that I had never seen in anyone before. I'm sure that it was those darkly luminous eyes that made me aware of her, and held my eyes in momentary embrace with hers. There were lots of women in that small but prestigious institution who were better looking than this girl with the haunting eyes. She never wore clothes that emphasized her shape, and it was obvious that her endowments were modest, though still attractive. Nothing other than those eyes set her apart from other passing pairs and trios of quiet shy girls, nervously finding their way around the school, whose lists of distinguished alumni were intimidating, and through whose corridors there echoed intertwining flourishes of virtuoso music-making. She had to be a first-year student, as everyone already knew everyone else. She carried a flute-- one of many who came to study with the great master here. She had to be one of the lesser lights, as everyone had already passed the word around about the freshman virtuosos, who quickly made themselves known in a school where talent reigned supreme. As a lesser light myself, I understood all too well the sense of shyness that one feels when you suddenly find yourself surrounded by musicians of world-class talent. Having somehow survived the first year and its terrifying performance juries, I was a little more relaxed, but still far from bold enough to approach any of the super talents that I, like everyone else, was attracted to. (Women with such gifts have a natural attraction independent of their appearance; they radiate a brilliance that is dazzling in itself.) So my little brown-eyed girl took me by surprise, now that I had mustered enough self-confidence to look the female students in the eye. Here she was, making me uncomfortable with that look, and neither I nor any of the guys I hung around with even knew her name. She really must be somebody unusual! Then one day, when I was checking my mail off the main corridor, she walked up and said. "Hi, Lou. I'm Elise" Her mouth curled into a mischievous grin as she recognized my unconcealable surprise, and to my unspoken question "How did you know who I am" she had a ready follow-on, "I've seen you in the halls and I asked some of my friends your name." "Hmm, so much for shyness, " I thought, and fought back waves of stupid questions, whose answers were clear enough to anyone not so taken aback. Her quiet voice had, not a ring, but a kind of soft, slightly breathy resonance to it, like the flute itself in the low register, that joined her eyes in riveting me to the spot. To me it was pure sensuality. "Uh, yes, Elise, I've noticed you many times." ("True, but hardly good enough to make up for your not doing anything about it, you dope," I said to myself.) I finally managed to stammer out an invitation to the coffee shop next door, which she accepted, presumably having expected it with the same insouciance that greeted the rest of my predictable responses. At any rate our conversation over coffee (this was a long time ago, when young people drank coffee) did nothing to break the invisible web that had encircled us. It was entangling me with stunning swiftness, and finally left me fully content to remain right there, where those eyes and that voice could play with my senses as long as the spell might last. She of course eventually did have to mention that she had other things to do, but we agreed that I would take her out to the local art film house on Saturday night. She seemed to have expected that invitation, as well. When I met her in the foyer of the dorm Saturday night she was already bundled up against the Siberian climate that went along with admission to our famous school. We ran like a couple of Michelin tire men to my ancient hulk of a car whose only real virtue is that it would start no matter how cold it got. Elise unhesitatingly scooted right over next to me as I fumbled with gloves and keys to coax another of its miraculous starts from the elderly Pontiac. Well, I thought, either she needs what warmth I could offer her to stave off imminent death, or this is going to be a memorable evening. It was going to be memorable anyway, as this was the first date I had had since arriving from my native land, far-off Texas. Even there my Leporello would not even have had to time to clear his throat before his arioso listing this Don Giovanni's dates would have ended. Of conquests there were none at all. Once inside the igloo of the theater, we began unswaddling ourselves. I lifted her coat off her shoulders (as was the custom in those antedeluvian times) and suddenly saw a good deal more of Elise than I would have thought possible on such a night. The dress was the basic little black thing, though not in those days hanging from spaghetti straps, but suspended from a cowl neckline that draped from shoulder to shoulder in a devastating catenary curve. The graceful complementary arc delimiting the (to me) stunning expanse of skin allowed a peek into the shadowed mystery of her back between her shoulder blades, as I stood transfixed behind this apparition. This wasn't the poet's ivory or marble or alabaster, but real, soft ever-so-slightly downy girl's skin. My gonads were already afire before I had time to realize it. She turned around and caught me agape with those dark eyes. Though they were radiant from the heat of an invisible fire; her smile was well in the visible spectrum along with the rest of the bare skin that breathed above the mathematical perfection of the neckline. She had just the slightest gap between her smile-bared front teeth. I was so grateful for this tiny imperfection, as it allowed me to hold on to my sanity, and remember that this is Elise, a real girl. The perigee of the curve of the neckline also led my eyes to another gap-the gentle countours of the cleavage between her delectably small breasts. They rose and fell with the undulations of her flutist's deep drawn breaths, drawing my eyes along the slopes of their succulent curves and into the shadows of their darker sides. I'm sure I must have said something, but fortunately neither of us heard it. We drank demi-tasse before the film-something quite noire from the French new wave. The surly black of the coffee set off dark eyes and dress and images from the film hanging about on wall-mounted black and white photographs. We two thorough un-sophisticates did our best to look as if we belonged in the art-film-savvy crowd, but all was overlaid with the images of her eyes, the slight figure sculpted in the black dress, the dress itself and the aforementioned skin. Her glowing gaze never left mine and seemed as if it would swallow me in as we stood there. The roar of the furnaces behind the eyeballs drowned out our perfunctory conversation. The theater, though full, was cold, and to my chagrin Elise had to put her coat around her shoulders to keep from freezing. Instead she took my hand, and I was happy just to hold it there balanced on the arm-rest between us. Such films as this one still had power to shock, and for the moment wrenched our eyes and minds from our mutual obsession to share its lovers' existential ennui. Their fires might have been sputtering; ours were hardly out. I suddenly felt our clasped hands fall off the arm-rest onto Elise's left leg, and move together along the smoothness of her skirt. The side of my hand noted landmarks along the way: the unseen strap of a garter reaching down to the top of her stocking, where the easily-felt bump of the clasp announced that we'd reached a place I'd merely tried to imagine when I first saw her in that dress. Our hands skated on the skirt up and down along the rippling nylon of the stockings until I felt her legs squeeze tight together, and she began to rock slowly and rhythmically in her seat. She put her hand on top of mine and led my flattened palm along the other leg, and then down the valley between them. I had no idea what Elise was doing, but the sound of her breathing and her closed eyes told me that this was something way beyond my limited experience. My hand of course was not content to stay atop the skirt, but when it tried to find its way below, Elise lifted it up and put it in my lap. Confused and embarrassed, I hardly knew what to think, until she started again our pairs skating exhibition, this time with her hand under mine, but still leading the way. I'd had no time to adjust the tent that stood where my lap should be, stretched by now on its fully extended pole. It didn't take her small hand long to find and ascend the wool-clad Everest, a place on me where no woman's hand had ever climbed before. The slight moan that resounded deep in my throat on feeling the Elise's fingers round the head of my stiffened flesh drew a sharp harumpf from a fur-clad matron next to me and the less-than-approving stare of her consort. It appeared that our exhibition had not been without spectators, and hardly enthusiastic ones, either for the film or our own "paws de deux". Elise's imploring gaze ratified my unspoken suggestion: "Let's get out of here!" The question was, of course, where to go now. We both lived in dorm rooms, and as we made our way past the toes and knees of irritated film art devotees, my libido was screaming for a quick answer to that question. The tent in my pants had by no means folded itself, either, so the film fans had a little live show at eye level that probably told them of the nature of the emergency departure. By the time we got to the lobby Elise's eyes repeated the question. The fire that raged within the two of us threatened to incinerate us on the spot. While helping her back into her coat I said "Let's get in the car; I'll think of something." She was standing as close as our coats would allow, and I leaned down to kiss the back of her neck to seal the promise. I saw that she had closed her eyes, and felt her press her bottom into my bulging fly to encourage me. Once I got us both in the car and plunged the key into its slot (awareness of this almost unconscious gesture hit right in the pit of my stomach) I had to confess to myself that I hadn't got any farther along in thinking of a place to go. I turned to Elise, felt her eyes reading my face, and leaned over to kiss her again. While leaning over towards her face the play of the dim light and shadows on the pale softness of her forehead and cheeks and lips suddenly gave me the answer: black and white photographs! I'd joined the camera club, and had a key to the darkroom and studio in the old Union building near the dorms! (Right on the key ring I'd just penetrated the ignition switch with!) I'd been there early today, working on enlargements of a pretty model who'd agreed to pose for the club, and I knew that no one planned to use the studio tonight. As far as I could remember, nothing was going on in the Union at all tonight! I became abruptly aware again that Elise was kissing me as I felt the tip of her tongue touch my lips, which instinctively parted to allow their welcome visitor. No one had ever given me such a kiss, and I felt shivers unrelated to the cold. My tongue met hers and started a sinuous pas de deux that danced in and out of each of our mouths while time stood still. I can't begin to guess how long we drove each other mad with our naked tongues playing as proxies for our bundled bodies. It was, in the most prosaic terms, long enough for the steamed up windows to freeze over solid. When we disentangled in our newly made igloo, we both laughed hysterically at the sight, but couldn't get ahead of the cold in our efforts to scrape off the windows because we just kept plunging back into each others' mouths. We eventually had to drive off towards the Union with the windows down. I don't think either of us noticed the cold. The well-packed snow crunched under the Pontiac's tires as I turned into the old campus drive. I could see that the Union lot was empty! Yesss! Realizing that everyone recognized my ancient black chariot, I improvised a new devious quirk to the evening's unfolding plan by parking not in the Union's lot, but in one reserved for denizens of the women's dorms, a hundred yards away. I might get a ticket, but better that than have my car tell every watchman to go looking for us in the Union. In those days getting caught could get both of us thrown out of school peremptorily I'd told her on the way about the plan, and she had squeezed my hand in assent. We tried to look as if we were just a couple of completely insane students out for a pleasant stroll on the artic grounds of the old campus, occasionally stopping to smooch under one of the old converted gas lamp posts, and risking a major case of chapped lips. The full moon was still low in the sky behind the Union, placing the whole front of the graceful old pseudo-Oxford-style building in deep shadow. Once we reached the shadow, we turned and walked slowly up to the impressive front doors of the building. The Union was dark save for the few ever-burning emergency lights, and of course the front doors were locked-it was only open when the building was booked for campus events. I said a silent thank-you to the camera club president for getting us all keys, since the restrictive policy made it almost impossible to use the photographic facilities on the erratic schedule on which it operated. My key worked. The heavy door swung silently open as I pulled the ornate handle, and we went in. There was just enough light inside to see our way around without groping. Camera club members were supposed to sign in on a pad beside the door, but I knew that if we did we'd get a visit from Ray, the friendly night watchman. Though I liked Ray, this was not the time. I hadn't quite got as far as figuring out how to deal with his rounds. One thing at a time. Elise led me into the huge main living-room-style reception room-one of those lovely old posh interiors from the rich '20's, with polished oak floors and paneling, oriental rugs, elegant sofas, wing-back chairs, ottomans, windows with small diamond-shaped panes set in lead, heavy drapes on enormous bronze fixtures, a huge baronial carved stone fireplace, and a Steinway concert grand. The big piano and scattered coffee-table books served, I suppose, to remind us musicians that it was people who could pay for this sort of finery who generally paid the bills for the arts. It could have been a swank university club in some big city, or at least so I imagined, having only seen such places in the movies. Elise and I had of course been here before, but never with the place to ourselves. While I was looking around to make sure we were really alone, Elise had walked over to the big fireplace and thrown her big coat on an ottoman and kicked off her shoes and snow boots. When I approached her she stood in her stocking feet in front of a sofa, facing into the fireplace, her bare arms gripping each other against the chill in the room, which stood cold and empty this icy winter weekend. The whiteness of her legs and arms and cameo of her head and neck and shoulders above the sweep of her neckline stood out clearly even in the faint light that reached her that far into the room. "I need warming up, fast, Lou." She did sound like someone who had been left out in the cold too long. By the time I got to her, she was holding a long fireplace match which she had found and looking very perplexedly into the great drafty fireplace, trying to figure out how to light the huge array of gas logs that had long since replaced the real thing. I gave her a hug from behind and said, "Maybe we should just go up to the studio-there's electric heat in there, and the door locks," still unable to forget about Ray. So much for Lou the romantic. " The first time I saw this room and this fireplace I fell in love with it. I must have sent you telepathic messages to take me here tonight, Lou. Please help me light this fire, so we can stay right here-and don't worry about the watchman, either," Mercifully, Elise was romantic enough for the two of us. "Two bodies-warmed, but not barbequed, I thought." Fortunately I'd worked one summer for a contractor for the gas company, and didn't have any trouble finding the concealed knob or getting the thing lighted. It blazed up spectacularly and half blinded us for a moment, so dark was the rest of the room. I took off my big coat and laid it atop hers, and, on further thought, my tie and jacket, my snow boots and shoes. And my glasses. Maybe I could shed enough of Lou's hidebound trappings to live a little somewhere other than just between my ears. She sat down on the rug facing into the blazing pseudo-logs, folded up into the tightest package possible, with arms wrapped around her legs and clasped in front of her shins. She still looked cold. I pulled up the ottoman and squeezed myself in between it and Elise, with her sitting in front of me, in the V between my legs, thinking to provide some warmth for her cold side myself. Once the cold lost its grip on her she relaxed and leaned back onto my chest, and let her head relax against my shoulder. The coat-covered ottoman held its ground as I leaned back. It was going to prop us both up, I realized, gratefully. The goose-bumps on her neck and shoulders slowly vanished as I folded my arms alongside the outside of hers, to match their fold and bring a little extra warmth to them. It was a moment of sheer bliss. My nostrils were filled with the freshness of her shoulder-length hair. My head leaned down to inhale the fragrance of her skin, and my lips kissed the intersection of her neck and smooth shoulder, quite of their own accord. She released a long and rather languorous sigh, with just the hint of a moan floating on it. The first kiss led of itself to a long, slow series replicating the first wherever my lips could reach. "Oh, Lou..." Now quite relaxed, she let her head and shoulders droop forward, and in doing so let the dress's right shoulder slide slowly down her arm, bringing the neckline along. I leaned forward again and gently kissed the back of her neck and then the naked shoulder. I saw that now the lovely black dress's other shoulder had fallen as well. The former elegant curve of cloth was now loose and slowly uncovering her strapless decollete bra and the perfect curves of her smallish breasts. My hands still covered hers, and I lifted the four of them up to touch the two petite gems of Elise's flesh, pulling her torso back into mine. I felt a tremor somewhere inside her when our hands reached the soft, soft skin left exposed by the cutaway contour of the sexy bra. The thrill of our hands touching her soft breasts together had brought my tent pole back again to full length, though squashed between her soft buns and my bulging crotch. Then she slipped her hands out of my mine and pulled the bra down, leaving my hands to envelop her exquisite orbs. They filled my hands with a sensation of such softness and such delicate curvature that I forgot to breathe. My hands were ecstatic-alternately molding breasts and areolas within my palms, and then teasing the little nubbin nipples with my thumb and fingers, and interrupting these sensual delights with expeditions to explore every mystery of Elise's unwrapped stomach, chest and shoulders. New tremors shook her whole body. Elise began to rock her hips again, squeezing her legs tight together, as she had done when we watched the film. But this time she soon reached forward with both arms and pulled the skirt of her crumpled dress right up to her waist. While my eyes drank in the sight of her slim legs, clad in thigh-high stockings, the taut straps of her garters stretching down to them from silky black garter belt, she plunged both hands into her crotch. The rocking turned to writhing, and she slowly lay over onto my left leg, coiling and uncoiling in ecstatic throes of masturbation. Her sighs turned to moans, dark and resonant from the depths of her flesh. My senses were afire with her sounds, the convoluted throes of her curving limbs and torso, and scents of musk so strong it took my breath away. The roundness of her buns had pulsed against my crotch to the point that I was ready to explode. Elise imploded first, as waves of shuddering spasms engulfed her spring -coiled frame, and indescribable rolling sonant crooning of wordless ecstasy escaped her lips. Her face was a mask of stunned transport from the tsunami of her orgasm. Dark Eyes Hello! So I'd just like to start by saying I WILL be continuing HOME. I promise. This story just crept up on me and demanded to be written. I honestly couldn't stop thinking about it until I typed it up at 4 am. I'd also like to thank my new editor, Nehkara, for being super awesome and helping me out.I'm forever grateful. As always, constructive feedback is welcome. -Kat PROLOGUE Parker When I was 7 years old, I took my first swim class. My dad hadn't thought I'd ever really need a class up until then, seeing as how we lived in a land-locked state. No very good logic if you ask me, but I was 7 and way too excited to give a hoot. Don't ask me what prompted him to wake me up that summer Saturday and take me to the local rec center. He just did. And I was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Most, if not all of my friends could swim by then. My lacking in that area was one of many shortcomings I overcame as a kid. But then again, everyone goes through that sort of sad shit, right? Anyway, when we got to the indoor pool, everything sort of hit me at once. The smell of chlorine water, the whooping sounds of other children at play, the bodies swiftly bouncing about in the crystalline blue water. My head was moving back and forth, trying to take it all in at once. I looked over my shoulder and saw my father strolling in behind me, his dark shades still on indoors, his beer keg belly bulging out in front of him. His presence alone was enough of an okay for me to go sprinting into the crowd. And I did. I did a quick scan of the water and saw an area that was oddly scarce , compared to the other places where the kids were warming up. And because I was such a bad ass little rebel, I choose that area to make my grand entrance into swim class. I gathered all my wits about me and went bounding in, feet first into the deep end. Those first few moments in the water were the best of my life. The cool crisp water engulfed me, sucking me into a new world, a different world, full of joys and wonders. It was overwhelming and exhilarating and fantastic all at once. I opened my eyes to slits and saw the distorted image of the world I'd left behind. It was nothing more than a glassy mirage to me then. Something traded in for something else, a better else. I opened my mouth to express my utter joy at that moment and all at once, my new watery wonderland changed into terrifying tundra. The lack of air was so startling then. Like I'd assumed that the air, the comfort for which I survived on, would follow me into the water. That no matter what, I'd have the air to fall back on. But now, thrashing in the pool, I had nothing but my terror. My arms and legs fought the water hell, trying to push it away and escape back to the world I'd abandoned. But it was like the water was refusing to let me go. Like I'd made the choice to enter this new and uncharted place and there was no turning back, no way to escape. I would drown that day. For being a stupid cocky child, I would die. I would be joining my mother, which I would have loved back then, but while in the water that peace hadn't occurred to me. Nothing really occurred to me except fear. A deep rooted and paralyzing fear. A lifeguard did eventually fished me out and I did have to face my father's fists for humiliating him in public with my first, but not last, near-death experience. The whole thing probably only lasted a few seconds, but those few seconds were etched into me that afternoon, as many such experiences are in children. You'll never forget your first kiss and the first time you're face to face with death. Although, people don't really talk about the latter. That swim, my first swim, feels now like God's way of foreshadowing the sweet hell I'd be facing in my adulthood. It was a warning. Like, "Hey, prepare yourself bud. Cuz' you ain't seen nothin' yet." God was right. I had only a taste of what was to come. It all crashed in on me when I met Avery Carter. As I sit here now, with blood slowly making its way out of my body, I can't help but feel like I should have seen this coming. Scratch that. A blind man would have seen this coming. And what's my excuse for allowing myself to be in a situation where I've been shot, there's a warrant out for my arrest, and there are mob members after me? A girl! A pretty fucking girl. Ain't that some shit. I know my dad is rolling around in his grave right now, cursing that he'd ever had such a pathetic dumb ass for a son. I honestly can't blame him. She had beautiful eyes, so I ignored what I saw. She had a cute smile, so I quelled my suspicions. She had a great pair of tits, so I pretended not to notice certain things. Jesus, when had I become so pussy whipped?! It was a rhetorical question, of course, because I was whipped from the moment I met her. I will, for the rest of my life, (which may only be a few more minutes, it would seem) forever curse that night. I try to sit up, but the pain too god damn stifling. Fuck. This is bad. This is really fuckin' bad. What's even more paralyzing than the pain, is the sound of running footsteps. They are getting closer and louder. There are lots of them, coming from above and below. I didn't know which were which, the cops or the mob guys, and it really didn't matter. They both wanted me and they both would spell my death if they got me. And then there was the guy I'd shot staring at me from the other side of the room. His eyes were dead, most definitely, and yet were laughing at me at the same time. "You've done it now, you stupid little shit," they seemed to say, in their cold dead laughing way, "You fucked with the wrong people. You killed the wrong fuckin' guy, and now you're gonna join me in hell you son of a bitch." I closed my eyes and began to heave in breaths, trying like hell to slow down my heart so it'd be easier to think. I was tempted to put my hands over my ears to block out the dead man's words, but I remembered then that he wasn't really speaking. It was in my head. All of it. It's funny how madness seems to set in so quickly after a horrible incident. Perhaps I was always a madman and never truly realized my potential until I'd gotten involved with Avery. I sure as hell had been acting like my mind train had derailed, but it took looking into the face of the man I'd killed to make that one hundred percent clear to me. But none of it was going to help me out now. C'mon Parker. You gotta think. THINK dammit! You've gotta get outta here. You can't go up and you can't go down. Where can you go? The fire escape. This was a bad idea. Neither side was lacking in man power. There could be guys out there on the escape now, trying to get in. I opened my eyes and tried to stand. The pain shot through me again and I had to suppress a yelp. I grabbed the backpack and slowly walked over to the window. Miracle of all miracles, there was no one making their way up it. I heard a crash from overhead. Panic threatened to swallow up my mind again, but I kept it at bay. I needed to stay calm and sharp if I was going to get out of this alive. I slung the backpack over my shoulders and propped open the window. It took a lot out of me, but the hoots of the approaching men scared me out of any creeping exhaustion. I gave one more glance to my dead compadre slumped over in the corner. His eyes were speaking again, but they didn't say too much. Just one more sentence that I'd probably hear in my sleep for a while (assuming I'd be waking up afterwards). "I'll be seeing you again," his eyes said. They were probably right. "Hurry up boys! That twiggy faggot is on the 6th floor!" I heard some macho son of a bitch holler from below. It was hard to hear, but the fact that I could make it out at all was a bad sign of their closeness. "7th floor, you bastard," I mumbled before crawling out of the window and onto the fire escape platform. I kept myself crouched and looked down below. No one had parked in this alley, oddly enough. I felt myself frown and made a mental note of it. Why wouldn't anyone park back here for cover? I had to assume both the cops and robbers were parked in the street then. So openly? Fuck it, I could think on this later. I gingerly, but quickly, began descending. I kept my head down and made sure to peer in before passing each window, lest someone catch me making my escape. I'd reach the 4th floor when a gunshot rang out above my head. I was so shocked I almost let go of the ladder. Uh oh. This was REALLY bad. The cops had probably finally met up with the mobsters and with me nowhere in sight, all hell was about to break lose. I was frantic now, practically jumping down, my feet almost skidding on the rungs. More gunshots rang out above me. I didn't even think when I pushed forward with my hands and the soles of my feet and sent myself flying off the ladder and down to the ground. It was a stupid move because I whacked the back of my head on some unseen metal and went crashing to the ground in a heap. If pain had a color, it would be white. A blinding white, so bright it bursts in your eyes and you can't see anything else for that one moment. It hurt so bad I began to retch and gag right then, all too happy that it'd been awhile since my last full meal. However, I didn't have time to assess the damage. All hell had broken free in the warehouse. There were bullets flying and shouts being thrown out. "This is the police!" "What the hell it going on?!" "Drop your weapon!" "It's the fuckin' pigs!" "Fuck you!" "Where's the goddamn bag?!" "Where the fuck is Parker?!" The last sentence galvanized my legs and I was up and running before I could hear any more. There were sirens blazing and car horns wailing and screaming, lots of screaming. It was too much and all around and so disorienting. I was bleeding, with every second and every step, I was getting weaker. But I didn't dare slow down. I didn't dare look back. I just ran. I hadn't really known which way I was running until I got to 2nd Ave. Being able to move my legs at all was nothing short of a miraculous. Adrenaline is one hell of a life saver. I'd gone north. Way north. I was panting hard, breaths getting harder to take in. I leaned against the wall and allowed myself a peek back. So far no one had come after me. I was far from the warehouse now. I could see the flashing red and blue lights and the scurry of little people, but I knew that if I could see them, they could probably see me. Who knows who could be looking this way this time of night. Avery had told me once that I couldn't trust anyone. I just thought she was being dramatic. But now, the lesson was finally sinking in. I was fucked, royally, and because I had trusted the wrong people. I ran my fingers through the back of my hair and felt a wave of dread fall over me. It was hot and wet back there. Shit. I was bleeding like a stuck pig and it was honestly starting to piss me off. I couldn't even go to the hospital, thanks to my recent shenanigans. I looked up and realized I didn't have to go too far, but I didn't know how much walking I should be doing at the moment. I ran down 2nd'Ave and kept going a few blocks until I hit an intersection. I crossed the street over to a bus station, saying a little prayer for what I hoped would be there. Taxi cabs. Not ever in my life had I been so goddamn happy to see the yellow chariots. I flipped my hood over my head walked quickly over to the first cab I saw. The guy in the front looked worn and meek. This was good. I was all too tired of bruiser looking bastards. I waved at him and he eyed me suspiciously before nodding. I hopped in the back and thanked him immediately. "You alright buddy?" he asked, still eyeing me in his rear-view. "Peachy pal. Just fuckin' peachy," I rasped out. I couldn't recognize my own scratchy voice. "Can you take me to 18947 Oakland Drive? It's on Mississippi and Waters." "Yeah, yeah. Sure buddy. Just don't pass out or throw up or nothin'. Alright? I gotta clean that shit out." He entered the address into his GPS and nodded. He started off and I wished like hell he would drive fast. I mean it was a lot better than walking but he still could have upped the speed. I sat back and relaxed. Besides the intense throbbing pain and the slight dizziness, I didn't think my head injury was that bad. My gunshot wound was. I looked down and grimaced and the large maroon stain growing in size. I was bleeding slowly, which was good I guess. I'm a glass half full kind of guy. The cab pulled up to Avery's house and I was glad. If I was going to die, it wouldn't be without facing her first. I yanked a few bills from my pocket and chucked it at the cab driver. I'm sure my blood must have been smeared on a few of them, but I could give half a rat's ass at that moment. The cab driver wasted no time speeding away, so I guess he didn't mind either. I slowly walked up her walkway to her door. I knocked, just loud enough as not to frighten her. I didn't want Avery to be afraid of my knock. I wanted her to be afraid of the Colt revolver I was removing from my waistband and holding behind my back. I needed to talk and I needed her to listen. She opened the door and the look on her face confused me. She looked... relieved. Happy even. Correct me if I'm wrong, but if you'd set someone up to die, wouldn't you be horrified if they showed up on your doorstep, not dead? "Parker!" she cried happily and stepped towards me. It's a trick. It's a goddamn fuckin' lie. It's more of her bullshit. Don't fall for it Parker. Never again. Before she could come any closer, I lifted the gun and pointed it between her eyes. Her face fell and fear washed over her expression. Good. I wanted her afraid for once. "Back the fuck up Avery. Now!" I growled. She looked surprised, but she complied. I followed her inside and kicked the door shut with my foot. She had her hands up in surrender and she was looking at me cautiously. "Parker, wh-" "Shut up!" I shouted, "just shut the fuck up, you bitch." She pressed her lips together, staring at me intently. I wished then that I wasn't so attracted to her because damn if she didn't look hot to me. Her robe was open at the top and her bra was bright red and eye catching. The swell of her chocolate tits was something I would be appreciating more right now, had I not just been shot because of her. I reminded myself of how I must look to her now; busted lip, the side of my face swelling, dirty all over, with blood and mud tracking onto her carpet. Her eyes left mine and roamed over me, taking this all in. I was glad at this. I wanted her to see her handiwork. "Sit down Avery," I instructed. She did without another word. "Parker, you've been shot. You need to go to a hospital." I scoffed at her cruelly, "Don't act like you give a shit about me. As far as you're concerned, I could die on this Mr. Clean brightened hardwood and you'd be glad of it." "Not true," she responded quickly. "Bullshit." "Parker." "Bullshit Avery!" I screamed. I couldn't help it. She'd done this to me. I did nothing but love her, and she'd turned me into a monster, and now she just expected to be rid of me like I was nothing?! "I loved you Avery! I loved you and you sent me in there to die!" I was closer to her now, the gun almost touching between her eyes. She looked terrified. She was quivering and her upheld hands were trembling. "Parker I swear on my life, I have no idea what you're talking about." "You might not want to swear on your life sweetheart," I chuckled ruefully. "You might not have it much longer." "Parker please. You're hurt. Let me help you." "Hell no. I see where your help gets me." "Parker I-" "I shot Calvin." And there it was. It came out like a breath. "W-what?!" she cried out, her terror mounting. I think she just realized then what I'm capable of. "Calvin. I shot him in the face, and a few times in the chest. This was after he shot me first, not like it really matters." "Oh god Parker, what have you done?!" "Don't act like you didn't know what was going to happen Avery. You sent me in there with him. You sent me knowing what was going to happen, knowing what he was going to do." "No Parker! I swear to you I had no idea. Parker please, you have to trust me!" "NO!" I yelled. The gun was shaking in my hand and I couldn't tell if it was from rage or because I was bleeding out more. Then, almost all at once, my strength left me and I collapsed on the floor in front of Avery. She acted swiftly, removing the revolver from my hand and kicking it away. I was wheezing now, the coppery taste of my own blood filling my mouth. My eyelids were heavy and the room was darkening around me. The world pivoted and I was on my back, looking up into Avery's pretty pretty face. "Parker, baby, tell me what happened." "It was bloody fuckin' Sunday in there Avery," I mumbled. I suppressed the urge to laugh at her grimace. Bitch sure knew how to act. "It's going to be ok Parker. I promise you. I won't let you go." She looked and sounded sincere then and for a second, I hate her for it. I did hate her. I hated her for making me fall for her. I hated her for involving me in her mess. But mostly I hated myself, because right here, sprawled out on her floor seemingly dying, I don't think there is anywhere else I'd rather be. Except, perhaps, in a hospital. "I loved you, Avery," I sighed. My eyes had lost the struggle and I closed them, no longer willing to fight. "I know Parker. It's going to be ok. You're going to be ok." And with the soft coo of her voice as my parting gift, I blacked out. Dark Eyes Neither of us breathed, as time had stopped entirely. I woke from my trance when Elise shuddered and stretched her body in what seemed a study in slow motion. I reached down and felt the moistness of her body, so intense had been her effort. Slowly unwinding from her semi-naked coil, she'd twisted round to kneel between my legs and then rose up on her knees in front of me, still propped up by the ottoman. Her delicious breasts swayed so tantalizingly in front of my dazzled face. I had to taste them. I reached around behind her back, now warm and damp and silky satin smooth, and pulled her towards me. First gentle kisses brushed areolas, then my tongue traced their brownish pink ripples, then lips gave teasing tugs to hardened nipples. I looked up and fell again under the spell of the smoldering dark eyes, radiant again with their own light in silhouette from the fire behind her. Their fires receded once again as Elise rose to her feet, leaving my face buried in the double folds of the dress's fallen top. She reached down and quickly pulled the dress straight up and over her head, and tossed it aside. My hands had slipped from the velvet-smooth skin of her back to pass over the lascivious curves of her bottom, tracing the lace of garter belt and panties. Now as I looked up into those irresistible eyes, I once again breathed in the musky-sweet scent that flooded my senses coming from the black wet sheen of her panties' now liquid crotch. I instinctively reached up to feel the warm darkness of the smooth band of cloth between her legs, and the legs responded with a tremor that threatened imminent collapse. My hands felt trickles running down inner thighs, and my tongue reached up to taste the source of the ambrosial scent. While my mouth savored Elise's sensual flood, her hands came down to undo the garters from the stocking tops, and to whisk away the garter belt. My hands found the top of the silky black panties and began to slide them down, to sounds of moans from high above my head. The black curls covering her mons veneris made my heart stop once again. The soaking splendor of the sparse black silky mop that covered her vulva sent shivers over every inch of me. Her outer lips were dark and sullen, and opened up to show the delicate pink within. My tongue found the inside of the panties' crotch, hovering just above her knees, and renewed their savoring of the musky dewy goodness of Elise's fount of sensual delight. Then I pulled them the rest of the way off and plunged my tongue into the silken treasure trove of her dripping pussy. Her knees began to give way. Her voice, husky and shaken, said, "Stop, stop, or I'll collapse on you!." She sank to her knees, wrapped her arms around my neck and tasted her own elegant sweetness from inside my mouth on my musk-covered tongue. "Mmmm," her vocal chords resonated down my throat. My hands were now finding their way again along the heart-achingly lovely curves of her naked bottom, and were just about to descend along the crack opening into her succulent slit when I felt her arms unwrap from around my neck and start unbuttoning my shirt. "It's time for me to undress you," she said when we finally pulled our lips apart. Flutists have fast and nimble fingers. She got me out of the shirt before I had time to take it in, and pulled the t-shirt off so fast I hardly had time to get my hands up in the air. I got to my feet to let the pants come down easier for her, and I felt her hand open them up and pull both pants and shorts down and off in one swift and effortless gesture. As I stepped out of them the hardest, reddest dick that had ever sprung out of my pants held its wine-dark head erect and glistening. Elise fell to her knees and wrapped her hands around it. She lifted her eyes as if to ask permission, then licked the glistening bead of pre-cum standing at the opening, ready to follow the others that had been soaking my shorts for some time. Then she licked and kissed it and looked up at me. "I have never seen a guy masturbate?" she said." "Will you do it for me," she asked, turning those irresistible eyes up at me. "Will you cum for me? Will you cum on me, please?" "Yes, Elise, of course." I stood there, jacking off with my left hand, and touching her soft brown hair with my right. I was already pretty close to cumming; in fact I was surprised that I hadn't already cum in my pants when Elise masturbated in front of me. I pumped slowly, moving my hand as if in slow motion, so close in front of Elise's face. The pre-cum was dripping on her chin chest and breasts, as she tried greedily to catch its flow with her lips. My hips were already thrusting slowly, involuntarily, and the head had grown still darker and was pulsing before her lips. Her fingers lightly slid along the surface of my balls, and I nearly came from the shivers she invoked. I tried to hold back the rhythm of the strokes, but they came faster and harder of themselves. My breath was coming in ever shallower and tighter gasps, and I could feel the cum climbing into my throbbing stem from the burning cauldron of my balls. My hips were jerking in ever more intense and uncontrollable spasms. Although I'd learned to jack off in silence, as I seldom had much privacy in the dorm, I'd never felt myself get so out of control. I felt my vocal chords rumbling low and guttural in my throat. "I'm gonna cum," I managed to articulate, and felt my knees grow wobbly as my cum climbed to meet the frenzy of my pounding hand and exploded on Elise's face and neck and hair and chest and breasts-it went all over her lovely downy skin. She took my cock in her mouth as well as she could, to ride its pounding, thrusting orgasm. She let it pump more hot jism into her mouth and swallowed what she could. The rest ran out her flutist's subtly muscled lips and off her chin. I caught the drips and rubbed them on her rigid nipples. Sinking to my knees, I held her close and kissed with all the intensity I could muster. I tasted for the first time my own seed inside her mouth, and felt myself shiver with the surge of our kiss's passion. Her breasts, wet with my cum, were pressed into my chest so hard her nipples dug into my skin. Now we shared my gusher of cum, as her soft skin transferred my orgasm's warm wetness to mine. "Let me lie you down now, Elise, so I can taste your cum. I pulled the cushions off the love seat next to us and laid them end to end in front of the fireplace for Elise. I laid her down gently upon them and opened wide her legs to let my mouth savor her very wet pussy. My tongue ran along her slit, first the outer surfaces of the inner lips, and then plowed deep in between them. The little nubbin of her clit peeked out from under its hood, and the touch of my tongue to it evoked an instant thrust from her hips and brought her legs together to squeeze the sides of my face. I heard her far-off sounding moans, though my ears were clamped shut. I kept my light and rapid tongue in motion in her slit, and sucked ever longer and harder on the clit. I let my tongue slide down and enter her dripping vagina, and was greeted with a gush of the heavenly nectar of her juices. Her hips were thrashing constantly now, and it was all I could do to follow the spasms of her pelvis. I put two fingers in her gushing hole and let my lips and tongue ride her clit for all it was worth. She came again with wave after wave of shuddering spasms and vocalizations of short repeated moans, sighs and sounds of "yesss." Her back arched completely off the pillows, only to fall crashing back as her hips lifted high off the cushions, taking my sucking lips along with them. Her bucking ride refused to stop-her writhing was as of one demented, or so it seemed. Certainly no orgasm I had ever had had lasted near so long, nor taken control of me as this one did. My lips stayed with her for the most heavenly kiss of their short lives up to this moment. When Elise finally crashed, sighing, to the cushions and I felt her spasms subside, I lay down beside her and kissed her long and deep, so that she could taste her own goodness. She lifted one arm and ran her hand through my hair, and held me in a long, sweet musky kiss. She closed her eyes, and seemed to drift off to sleep. For the first time since I'd entered the room my ears caught sounds that came from neither of us. A big grandfather clock in the main hall bonged, and bonged. Twelve times, exactly. It's midnight, my drowsy thoughts concluded. Then, suddenly, it came to me. Midnight was when Ray the watchman always made his rounds. And he was pretty regular. "Oh, my God. They'll throw us out of school!" was the implication of getting caught by Ray. "Elise, quick, we've got to get out of here in SECONDS. Ray'll catch us!" It still hadn't soaked in to her, but I got up and surveyed the scene. "We'll never have time to get dressed and clear out.," I thought. I grabbed up my suit jacket and picked up Elise's shoulders and put the coat on her, then I got her scarf, overcoat and boots and got her into them. I pulled on my pants and stuck my feet in my shoes and boots, still nested together, then quick put on my overcoat. I grabbed up all the rest of the underwear, socks, stockings, Elise's dress and garter belt and stuffed them in my shirt and gathered it up like a laundry bag. Then I found Elise's bag and handed it to her. I quick turned off the gas in the fireplace and waved to Elise to put the cushions back. She did and I thought we had it all when I saw the shadow of her panties on the floor. I scooped them into my overcoat pocket and said to Elise. "Ray always parks in the drive in front and comes in the front door. I know from working late in the darkroom. Quick, out the back door!" We ran down the main hall and turned into the service corridor alongside the main ballroom. I heard the front door swing open as we reached the far end of the corridor. "Shhh!" I hissed, and we tiptoed to the kitchen door and went through it as silently as we could. Thank God for the full moon's light, streaming in the kitchen windows-we'd never have made it out without crashing into something otherwise. We got to the back loading dock outside the kitchen and opened its emergency crash bar as quietly as we could. Thank goodness doors weren't alarmed everywhere in those days. We made it back to my car before we realized we were freezing. Elise was nearly naked, and my overcoat and pants weren't doing much to keep my teeth from chattering, either. Thank God my keys hadn't fallen out of my pocket-they got us in and the lumbering old straight six grumbled into action on the first try. Elise was practically in my lap, she was so cold. I held her as close as I could while the car did its best to warm up. I scraped the ice off the inside the windshield enough to see out a little. We shivered and chattered to each other as best we could to keep from succumbing to the numbing cold. I tried a kiss. That seemed to work pretty well-I worked better than anything so far to take our minds off the cold. When we finished Elise lay her head on my shoulder. It looked at my watch. It was 12:05. It meant that, according to the arcane rules of that time, we had to WAIT until 12:30 to get Elise back in the dorm's front door. After 10:30 pm the women's dorm doors were locked, and the housemother only came to let girls in every thirty minutes until the curfew, which tonight was 12:30 for freshmen. We couldn't just sit still in the car for 25 minutes-the leaky old exhaust system might do us in with carbon monoxide with the windows all shut, sitting in one place. So I backed out of the parking place and said, "Let's go for a drive." Elise looked at me as if I'd lost my mind, but I pointed out that we had 25 minutes to spend and it couldn't be just sitting still. So we drove. Within five minutes of our ride the heater had the car reasonably warm, and we could both relax our death grips holding our overcoats tight against our bare skin. Pretty soon it got positively summery in there. We were stopped at a traffic light near the art movie house when we noticed the crowd was pouring from the film we had started to watch. We saw standing at the corner beside the car the lady in the fur and her consort, looking as if they had just hated the movie. I winked at Elise. "Maybe we should give them a little show to make their evening." I unbuttoned my overcoat and pulled my pants down to my knees. Elise opened her overcoat and my jacket and we waved merrily to them as they stood there huddled against the cold. They looked perplexed to see our cheery waving, and only then noticed that they were being flashed by their former neighbors at the art film house, sitting nearly naked by them on the street. Elise leaned up to me and kissed me and grabbed my dick, now vertical again, to pick up our show for them where we had left off. Thank heaven the light changed then and we were spared any further thoughts of our stunned elders. It felt good, riding around naked, so we finished the ride, enjoying the sight of each other, smeared with drying cum and letting hands roam where they would. We parked around the corner from the women's dorm, in a loading zone. I took some melting ice from inside the windows to wet her face and clean off as much of the dried cum as I could. She got out her makeup and covered up the rest. There were students arriving for the 12:30 opening all round, so there was no way to get Elise dressed. We decided she'd have a hard time braving her way past the house mother with the underwear tied up in my shirt like laundry, and she'd look about eight months pregnant to hide it under her coat. So she went in wearing just my jacket and her overcoat. On such a cold night maybe no one would get too curious about her not even unbuttoning her coat. Maybe her roommate would be asleep or out of the room. I'd keep her clothes and take her dress to the cleaners, I told her, leaving it in her name so she could pick it up and not arouse suspicion. I'd give her the rest tomorrow, in an innocent package. I didn't tell her I'd keep the lacy black panties. I did, and I still have them, to this day. We found a place in a deep shadow to kiss goodnight, and opened our coats and let our bare skins say goodnight to each other, too. Her dark eyes glowed, full of weariness and lust, as we wished each other a very good night.