Sintrovert

“Sintrovert”
By C.K. Blake
Author's Notes: This story came to me after a whirlwind of inspiration, and some wordplay. It's a bit more than I usually write, and *gasp* it's het! I'm so shocked. I thought playing around with female domination sounded fun and so here you have "Sintrovert". Be kind and please review. I'd love to hear any thoughts on this!

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Often I have been misjudged by my exterior, and I find that amusing. Why to look at me, one would see a simple girl, quiet, lonely, probably shy. As cliché as that age old adage is, it still holds true. A book cannot be judged by its cover, and a girl is far more complex than any book.

I’m observant, if anything, and I’ve watched people stumble through life, fighting their baser desires, deathly afraid to give into what occupied their mind when their eyes were closed and there was no one else around. Yes, it is amazing what someone would do when they think no one is looking. A lustful thought of that long, lean woman with the bottle blond hair, her cleavage held at bay by a push up bra. Oh yes, the hand descending into the pants, reaching desperately for release.

The smirk twisted across my mouth as I stepped out of the shadows and flipped on the light switch. The bedroom that had previously been lit by a single lamp was now bright as day, and so was my quarry sitting on the edge of his bed, wide eyed and prepared to panic, the head of his cock peeking out from the fly of his blue jeans. He hadn’t even realized he’d been followed, didn’t think he’d be caught.

“Oh shit!” he squeaked out, and in his panic struggled to put his erection away, but his hands and more importantly his cock didn’t seem to want to cooperate, as he continued in frustration. “Geez, Kelly! What are you doing here? Now?”

I snorted. “Well, Marty, I was watching a pretty impressive show until it fizzled out before climax.”

His hazel eyes bugged out and his mouth fell open. I think he’d finally come to the conclusion that he didn’t know his best friend as well as he thought he did. He probably hadn’t even known how long I’d been watching him. How after walking in on him in the shower a few weeks ago I had found new prey. I’d never hunted close to home. That’s the first thing a huntress learns. You never go for the kill close to home. Of course Marty would have to be the exception.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? How long have you been standing there? Shit! What is wrong with you?” he snapped, and grabbed a pillow to cover himself since he wasn’t having much success putting his cock back into his pants.

“Come on now,” I coaxed. “We’re friends. You can tell me. It was the blonde with the big tits. It always is. What’s her name Alice, Adrienne?”

“Anna,” he bit out.

“Well, tell me what you see when you close your eyes. Tell me how she gets you off,” I whispered.

“Kelly?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, Marty,” I said with a grin. “It’s me, your best friend. I get tired of going out so much, thought I’d look a little closer to home. Didn’t know you were so impressive till the mishap in the shower.”

I licked my lips and stepped further into the room, and I chuckled as he swallowed with what looked like a great deal of effort. This held promise. I knelt down before him, in nothing but a red silk kimono, loosely belted at my waist. One tug, and he would know about the tattoo on my hip, the black angel wings, but that wasn’t a card to be played early in the game.

He looked down at me, as my hands settled on the pillow covering his pulsing cock, and I knew that he would need release, but he would sweat and bleed for it. Yes, I would see to that.

My fingers danced across the pillow until they reached the hem of his shirt and then my hands slipped under his t-shirt, and glided up his chest, and his breath hitched. A very pleasant sound indeed.

“Marty, be a good friend. Close your eyes and tell me what she’s doing to you,” I whispered as I slowly shifted, and when he closed his eyes, I rose until my lips met his and he moaned. I smirked as my tongue swept across his lips and he allowed my trespass.

I shoved the pillow aside and settled down in his lap, his erection pressing between my legs. Yes, this was very promising. I started rocking back and forth on top of him, playing him like the instrument that he was, and reveling in my power over him. He was making it kind of easy. I leaned forward and took his right earlobe between my teeth and gave it a gentle pull, and when I released it I asked, “What is she doing to you right now?”

“I… She’s riding me… Oh god!” he groaned, and his hands found their way to my silk covered hips.

With a sigh I covered his hands with mine and pushed them away as I grinded down on him. “That’s how you get punished Marty. You only touch me when I say you can. Now tell me more. Don’t be afraid to get…creative. I wanna hear something that will make me wet.”

He gulped, and again tried to reach for my hips. I swatted his hands away, and said, “If it makes this any easier, open your eyes.”

I pulled off his shirt and then let the belt loose from the kimono and let the silk wash down my shoulders and arms. Shedding it like a second skin, and pulling it away, so there was nothing between his weeping cock and me.

“What is this?” he asked in awe, and I laughed.

“It’s a game, whatever you want it to be. But you have to earn every moment. You will sweat for me, and bleed for me, and I might just fuck you dry,” I replied, and reached down between us, grabbing his shaft, and used my thumb to spread the precum around the head of his aching cock. He would be begging before the night was over. I would see to that much. Nothing less would get him off. “So are you going to do as I say, or should I leave you with a tube of lubricant?”

“You wouldn’t,” he gasped, and I began to get up and reach for the kimono. At the sound of his whimper I paused, the movement creating some nice friction.

“Try me,” I said, as I bent toward his ear and ran my tongue within the delicate shell. He trembled beneath me, and then I shifted, my mouth closing over the pulse in his neck, my teeth scraping over the salty sweet flesh, closing down, biting him, and I didn’t stop until I’d drawn blood, the intoxicating tang of copper in my mouth, and him squirming and panicking beneath me. I solved his problem as my grip tightened on his cock, and his breath hitched.

“I remember mentioning bleeding. You do want to get off tonight, don’t you?” my left eyebrow was raised in a challenge.

His hazel gaze shifted to my bare breasts and then to the floor, and I knew I had him. “Good,” I purred. “You’re learning.”

I smiled and stood up and heard him groan in frustration as I let his cock go. He probably thought I was leaving. I shook my head, as he looked up at me, shock and lust battling in his dark hazel gaze. The blonde with the big tits wasn’t on his mind anymore.

“I guess it’s time for a little show. There’s just one rule. Look, but don’t touch,” I whispered huskily.

I watched with satisfaction as he swallowed and followed me with his eyes as I circled his bed and settled myself, naked on his bed, my legs folded up. I took my right index finger into my mouth, and tipped back my head, exposing my throat. I felt him shifting at the foot of the bed to get a better view. His hand slipped to my foot and I paused and my eyes locked with his. He moved his hand away from my foot and I continued, and took in my middle and ring fingers in my mouth as well.

Once I was pleased that I had his full attention I let those moist fingers trail down my chin, throat, my breasts, and I stopped and grabbed my breasts in both hands, kneading them, my nipples hard and aching for a slightly rough hand. I rolled the peaks between my thumb and forefinger, and moaned, my eyes on him the whole time. His eyes were dark as he ran his tongue hungrily over his lips, and then I let my right hand slip from my breasts, down my stomach, and at my hips, and then I unfolded my legs and spread them wide for him to see.

His gaze was riveted as my left hand went to join my right. The left working to spread the folds to allow me deeper access. I moaned as my right index finger passed over my clit, and then I slipped it in deep, in and out, and slowly worked in the other fingers, my thumb stroking my clit, as I worked my fingers in and out. I moaned, feeling the rush of power and juices that were coming, but now wasn’t the time for release, I just needed enough for a taste. I stopped at the sound of his harsh breathing and pulled out my wet fingers.

I shifted to my knees before him and held my right hand toward him, three fingers wet with my juices, and I brought them to his lips, just shy an inch from touching them. “Would you like a taste?”

He blinked and then boldly leaned forward, taking my wet fingers into his mouth, his tongue gliding over them and licking them clean, and then he pulled back, looked at me and asked, “Why didn’t you let yourself cum?”

I smiled. “I’m not finished yet.”

I then kissed him, tasting myself in his mouth, and then my lips trailed down his throat, and chest. I paused at his nipples, lapping at them with my tongue, until I continued my descent and came to his cock, still hard. I curled my fingers around his jeans and began to roughly tug them off. He helped and soon he was completely naked before me. I then leaned my face toward his lap, my right hand wrapping firmly around his shaft before my tongue flickered out and swept across the head of his cock. I felt it give a little jerk and his body trembled. Salty and sweet, a very intoxicating taste. I gave him a couple of pulls and then paused, my hand firmly wrapped around him as I looked at him, his eyes clouded.

“What are you willing to do for release?” I asked him.

“Anything,” he replied raggedly.

“Fine, there is a new rule, touch, but don’t taste.”

He looked confused until I took his hand with my left hand and guided it to my breast, encouraging him to stroke and fondle. He complied eagerly. I then guided his hand down further, until he was working his fingers inside me, and when I felt the waves begin to build up again, I reached down and stopped his hands. He looked at me in confusion.

“Now taste, but don’t swallow.”

His eyes widened as I let go of his erection and laid myself out on his bed, open, and waiting him. He shifted, his cock in his hand, but I sat up on my elbows and shook my head, “Taste, Marty, not fuck.”

He was surprised, but caught on to my meaning. I noticed how he swallowed and realized he was probably nervous, still he bent down, and his fingers spread me open, and his tongue tentatively circled my clit, and dipped into my opening. I threw back my head and moaned, my fingers tangled in his hair, and he took that as encouragement that he was doing a good job. The waves were building again. I tugged his head up before they could come crashing down and his dark eyes met mine questioningly.

With my hands in his hair I gave him a tug and guided him up, and then our lips locked, his hands moving up to cup and caress my breasts. I reached down between us, my hand closing around his pulsing cock and guiding him to my opening. Once I felt the head there, I wrapped my legs around his waist and leaned up toward him and said, “Now take what you’ve earned.”

He needed no further encouragement as he thrust inside of me, his throbbing cock filling me. I arched my body against him, a moan parting my lips as he rode me like a mad man. Pumping in and out at a frenzy, filling me over and over again, until the waves had reached a crescendo and I felt his cock twitching deep within me, and I reached down between us, my fingers flicking over my clit as he began to come inside of me, and soon the waves were crashing within me and I was coming just as he was beginning to grow soft, which encouraged him to stay hard a little longer.

My hands found his back, my nails clawing his flesh deeply, drawing blood as I cried out with my release, then I looked up at him, and pulled my arms back as he shifted and rolled down next to me. He turned to look at me, a dazed expression on his face, and when he regained some of his senses he asked, “So what in the hell was that all about?”

I simply smirked at him as I slipped free from his grasp, gathered my kimono from the floor, began covering myself back up, and then with a shrug huskily replied, “Just remember, it’s always the quiet ones. I’m not an introvert. I’m a sintrovert…”

Yes, often I was misjudged based on what people chose to see, but tonight I was a huntress, and I’d proudly taken my kill. As I tied the belt around the kimono I turned to my quarry, brought my hand to my lips and blew him a kiss, because the hunt was over for tonight, and tomorrow always brought fresh prey along.

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