Even during the phone call, you knew it wasn't a good day for SONS. Chibs kept his answers short, didn't make jokes like he usually did, didn't try to flirt. He was a wall your voice bounced off. You didn't push.
You just asked if he wanted you to come over to his place today. You'd been dating for a few weeks, nothing serious, you both just enjoyed each other's company, and the sex was great. This arrangement was good for you after you decided not to get involved in any serious relationship.
For Chibs, you were someone he could relax with, forget about what he'd done and who he was, even if only for a moment. You two had a good time talking. Although sometimes your encounters were just quick, wild clashes of two bodies eager for each other. Your language then was touch, moan, grunt, and the sounds of bodies slapping against each other.
So when he only answered your question with, "Yeah, sure," you knew today wasn't the day for chatting and joking.
Sometimes you wondered how Filip managed it all. Where he found his safety valve to keep from going crazy in the chaos that was his life. You saw that he found solace in women, music, and whiskey. But that was only a temporary solution. Deep within him, there must have been accumulated layers of emotions, thick as tar. Over the years, they had congealed and hardened. And he sometimes seemed like an empty shell, with two holes in his eyes, piercing, burning.
You thought about all this while taking a shower in your apartment after work. You traded in the white shirt and pencil skirt you'd been forced to wear all day for leather pants and a skimpy red blouse, his favorite. You wanted his thoughts to take their mind off this fucked-up day and focus right there, on your breasts, which he adored.
You threw on a black jacket and ran downstairs, but before getting in your car, you decided you needed a cigarette, so you sat on a bench near the parking lot.
You inhaled the smoke and ran a hand through your long blond hair.
You weren't one of those women who wanted to be rescuers, helping him out of this mess, so he could suddenly start living a sugar-coated, fairytale life. You knew you were ships sailing in different directions, but you'd met in the same port for a while, and you both enjoyed it, making the most of your relationship.
The club was dark. You entered, the bar empty. The only dim light seeped in from under the chapel door. You headed that way, following the rising sound of Queens of the Stone Age's "Tension Head" blaring from the speaker.
You pushed open the door. He sat there, dark, staring at the lamp. At first, he didn't even notice you.
Lost in his thoughts, the whiskey bottle not far from him. Suddenly, his gaze shifted to you. He moved from your face, over your cleavage, your legs, to your toes, and back again. Slowly, still in that stark reverie. But with an intensity that always instantly aroused you.
- "So you came" - he stated, as if he were wondering what to do with that fact. You took off your jacket and walked closer, leaning on the table next to him.
He poured himself another glass of whiskey. - "I might not be nice today, lass," - he said firmly. He drained the glass in one go and set it on the table.
After a moment, he picked it up again and started turning it over in his fingers.
-"I'm not from a prayer group so you have to be nice to me. Today I'll be nice to YOU, baby" - you said, smiling slightly and running your hand over his arm. The annoying noise in the speakers subsided, and another song started. You liked it. "Auto Pilot," also by Queens.
- "You don't even have to say anything" -you added. Chibs looked at you through half-closed eyes.
And then suddenly, he stood up abruptly, grabbed your hips, pressed them against him, and began kissing you. Predatory, wild, pushing his tongue deep into your body and biting your lips. His hands slid over your ass, squeezing your breasts, while his other hand held the back of your neck. You pressed your entire body against him, gently moving your hips, feeling him harden.
After a moment, he pulled away from you, took a step back, placed his hands on your shoulders and pressed down, forcing you to kneel in front of him, which you did immediately, feeling your excitement growing.
You raised your head and saw him looking down at you, his lips slightly parted.
At the same time, his hands were unbuckling the belt of his pants.
-"If you want to be a nice girl, you'll take care of me now, just the way I like it." - he murmured, his voice tight with desire.
He freed his cock from his pants without even lowering them. Taut and hard before your eyes, a trace of wetness at the tip. You took it in your hand and slowly began to run your tongue over it, first lengthwise, then around—you were teasing him, but you knew he liked it. Finally, you slid his hot cock into your mouth, holding the base with your hand, and began to bob your head. Slowly, rhythmically, sucking hard, just the way he liked it.
Over the loud music, you heard him groan throatily. Without slowing your movements or applying pressure, you raised your other hand, cupped his balls, and began massaging him.
- "Oh yes, baby. That's exactly it," - he said, placing his large hands on either side of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. You looked up.
You met his gaze; he tilted his head, strands of hair falling across his face as he moved his hips, thrusting deeper into your mouth.
-"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you suck my cock so well," - he growled, speeding up his hips, pressing against the back of your throat. You closed your eyes, trying to relax your throat muscles.
-"LOOK AT ME!"- he raised his voice over the music, which only increased the tension in your body, feeling how wet your panties were.
He thrust his jaw forward and growled animalistically with pleasure, looking into your eyes, not slowing down.
- "Harder" - he ordered. You did as he asked, feeling his cock begin to throb, hearing his breathing become faster and louder, mixed with his moans.
- "That's right, baby" - he groaned, speeding up his movements even more. You watched as he parted his lips, moaning faster and louder.
Suddenly, you felt hot liquid flood your throat, making you choke. And his guttural groan mingled with the sound of the guitars.
You let him finish the way he wanted. You knew it was the only way to release all the stress and tension from him. You watched as he closed his eyes and then tilted his head back.
You licked his cock clean and pulled your head back, looking at him. He tilted his head, smiled, and gently stroked your cheek. Completely different from before.
-"Good girl" - he said, satisfied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked, sexy smile.
