The T(h)rustful Voice Pt. 01

"Hey, I'll never get it," she said. "What's so irresistible about my butt? I mean, most of those girls and now you, groping it like mad... Is it so well-shaped or what?"

"Well-shaped? Well, perhaps." He said, cupping both her cloth-covered butt cheeks and grinning devilishly. "I'd rather say it's just voluptuous." He slid his right hand off and spanked her ass lively in the next second.

"'Voluptuous', you say!" She beamed blissfully. "That's like eight point five out of ten, isn't it?" The redhead bit her lip.

His hands parted these two firm globes, making her hiss and gasp lewdly. He pecked her on the lips delicately and looked her in the eyes.

"More like nine, nine point five maybe..."

"Uh uh..."

Her hand, in the meanwhile, had grabbed his crotch, precisely her favorite part of it, outlined clearly in the front of his jeans, and she was stroking it now -- as thoroughly as it was firmly -- through two layers of material. He sensed her great touch and shook a little on the inside with every single stroke.

"I can't recall any sexy-sounding adjectives, babe, but I like this," she said, continuing with caress. "I know it's so hard for me, and I want to kiss it. You know how I love to kiss." She pressed her lips against his and sucked them for a long moment, affectionately. "Like this. And with tongue too."

"I know, you minx." He winked at her. "Quite impossible to miss." She grinned just like him a moment ago.

Thankfully, she stopped and so he sighed, relaxed. A minute more of such treatment and he would have to change. Or would she accept it? She must've been, in fact, quite forgiving about such things. Her little, satisfied smirk was showing she more or less knew about what he was thinking.

"So, it's fairly unmistakable now it's going to be a heavy date," she joked and he gave her a nod. "Are you okay with this, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I was sort of hoping you're gonna say that." She poked his ribs playfully, causing him to wince a little. 'That's what you get for being smug,' he said to himself.

* * *

In the next few minutes -- after they had calmed and cooled down somewhat -- Alice was taking him to her place, her heart beating a bit upset as she talked with him. They reintroduced themselves with full names, which sounded absolutely hilarious just a short moment after they'd together committed a bit of harmless flashing, nibbling, and groping in public, and not even mentioning that even kinkier stuff they had made earlier that day.

Alice had a typically Irish last name of O'Keane -- spelled with a 'K', she specifically mentioned -- and she was the eldest of three daughters of a lovable, hardworking married couple from one of less urbanized parts of the state. She came to the town when she was going to college, and it all somehow turned out that she decided to stay.

Alice wasn't really named like this since her very first years -- which was anything but surprising, considering her anatomy -- but what had really piqued his curiosity was the fact that she'd had three different names during her life, not two. He had to ask her twice about it.

"When I was born, it's not hard to guess I was given a boy's name. Now, please, don't panic; I was named Jack," she had told him, chuckling.

"'Here's Johnny!'" Max exclaimed, making a scary face (or rather trying to). It made her burst into full-blown laughter. Thankfully, they didn't crash because of that.

"It sounds hilarious, I know. But I was 'Jack' only until I was five, when Mom had finally guessed I wasn't all that boyish, neither in my appearance or behavior. I love her for what she did for me -- she let me decide.

"So when I was five, my name was changed to Jackie, or more formally, Jacqueline."

"It's just like your middle name, right?"

"Yep. Alice Jacqueline. Jackie is my middle name now, mainly because I still very much like it and my Mom picked it, but I like it not nearly as much as Alice. I'm Alice since my eighteenth birthday, one of the best gifts of all, and officially since a month after that. No one really calls me that in my family, though, everyone calls me Jackie except my cousin."

She sighed, obviously reminiscing about the past.

"And I've only had one name all my life," he said. "That's boring."

"You lucky guy..."

It appeared she might have a point. For a second she turned her head to face him and grinned at him friendly. He returned the favor and laid his palm on the back of her right hand -- the one working the shift stick.

She was driving like it was her second nature. Even when laughing that hard, she was focused on what was happening, like any driver should. For moments when the traffic wasn't much, he laid his left hand on top of her gear-shifting hand, to which she casually replied with a soft smile, otherwise still focusing on the road.

In the background, the engine was humming and thrash metal music playing, filling rare moments of silence with high-gain electric guitars, fast and precise drumming, and raw vocals.

Chapter 6

Alice took out her keys from her leathery handbag and unlocked the solid-looking door before her. She turned the doorknob to the right and pushed the door inside. The light on their floor turned off by itself, startling him a bit.

"It always flashes off a bit too early," she commented with a knowing smile. "I've never broke a leg on the stairs, though, so it probably flashes off a bit too late as well."

He snorted and looked at her briefly.

She reached to take his hand, looking at him with seemingly endless curiosity and an encouraging smile, somehow sensing his tension, still there. He smiled at her warmly and let her cool fingers entwine with his. It helped, just as they used to say: "Cold hands, warm heart." She took a step first, leading him into her home and closing the door right behind them. Routinely, she locked the door.

The room before them was bathing in an almost perfectly orange, early summer evening sunlight on the right half, while the other half was much darker. He noticed that she was standing on the brighter side, irregular, widening stripes of sunlight beams reaching just to the caps of her black boots from a far window with opened shutters, while he was standing fully in the dark, their hands meeting more or less on the edge of light and shadow.

Sadly, the enchanting darkness was gone with the moment she had finally reached for the light switch, but also not immediately; he found she had been looking at the same thing for a short while. She smiled at him knowingly.

The room had become brighter, and he was now able to clearly see a built-in closet on his right, and on the left hand side a small, wooden stool, and a mirror hanging on the wall behind it. The anteroom, as he would call it, felt maybe a bit like a bottleneck thanks to that closet -- or rather the wall that had been built around it -- but that didn't give it the narrowness enough to cause any real problems.

She took his jacket -- a quite heavy one -- and hung it where it belonged. She sat on the stool, smiling up at him; then she leaned down and started to untie her footwear. The plastic-coated endings of her shoelaces were hitting the ground interchangeably as she took them out through the numerous holes. He counted fifteen on every side, but she had only put a shoelace through every second hole since the seventh, something that would make tying these monsters of heavy, fifteen-hole boots less of a chore.

He had started taking his off a few seconds after her, but still had managed to finish several seconds earlier. He sat on the floor, his legs crossed, and nonchalantly put his shoes -- regular, black and grey sneakers -- close to the nearest wall, watching her as she still struggled, chuckling under her breath.

"Any help?" he teased her.

"Shut up, kiddo. I'm almost done." She grinned for a second. It appeared he would have to get used to her calling him like this, not that he did mind as it still sounded nice, warm-hearted even. She continued with her quiet laughter. "It was worth it to wear these, whatever you might say."

"M'kay, whatever." He laughed it off.

She finally put these boots away and tossed her worn socks inside them. She stood up, smiling and quite relaxed. Her feet looked really cute covered in a thin, dark, and silky material of her stockings. Needless to say, they would look even better without any stockings.

"So, Max, why don't you sit down there in the lounge, and wait while I get some beer?" She had pointed at the room behind an arch-shaped, wooden door frame at the opposite wall from the entrance.

"Yeah, why not," he replied.

Without waiting for his move, she turned on the spot and went straight to the kitchen, her bubbly butt swaying astoundingly from left to right under the material of her skirt as she walked forwards gracefully. If anything, he wanted to tear the damn skirt off of her.

Alice disappeared behind the much simpler door frame on the left. He followed her to the kitchen. She was leaning down a little before an opened fridge, looking for what she said she would, and mumbling to herself under her breath too.

He enjoyed the sight of her luscious butt pressing against the back of her skirt, clearly outlined in this bent-down pose. The skirt was raised a bit, showing a bit more of these delightful thighs than usual.

"You're here, aren't you?" she asked playfully and wiggled her cute backside. "Watching me bending over?"

She turned around and chuckled at him as he stood there, back against the frame in the spot that was promising him the best view. He smiled sheepishly in silence.

"Max, have you ever tried a ginger beer? Actually, a ginger-flavored one?" Her voice was showing her genuine curiosity about this one. Also, a pinch of guilt, because it obviously was all she had at the moment.

"No, not one time," he answered truthfully, "but I don't mind trying new things either."

"I was sort of hoping you're gonna say that." She smirked at him and winked. "I only have ginger beer if that's not a deal breaker; I've dead forgotten to buy anything... less girly." She shrugged with an apologetic smile.

"That's fine, Alice." His smile caused her to see that he didn't mind at all.

She mirrored his expression, did a one-eighty, and bent in her waist again to grab two cold bottles of that ginger-spiced beverage, and turned back to him after a second.

She was pressing the bottles to her belly, causing them to leave some chillingly cold, wet marks, barely visible to a human eye. She was smiling at the sensation of cold wetness of glass against her bare skin of her forearm and palm, that was how he knew. In her other hand (the left one) she was holding a bottle opener; she made two smooth movements, exactly alike, and the bottle caps let go, the opener got tossed on the top of the nearest cabinet, and the fridge door kicked shut with the heel of her pretty, stocking-clad foot. She was smiling at him warmly.

"Here, have your share." She grabbed one of the bottles and handed it to him. What had surprised him, she switched her bottle to her left hand, which he believed was the a tell-tale sign of being left-handed.

"What?" She smiled, catching him staring at her hand.

"You're a lefty, aren't you?" he teased her. She grinned.

"What, you don't mind me having a dick all that much, but somehow can't accept that I'm left-handed?" She stuck her tongue out.

"When you put it this way..." They burst out laughing at the exact same moment. They embraced each other with their free hands (carefully, not to spill the beverage), and kissed warmheartedly.

"Taste it," she said, pointing at his beer with hers. "It isn't bad."

"I'm not falling for that. You first," he joked. The redhead giggled.

He took one little sip of the beer, doing as she asked. He wasn't going to admit that he, in fact, wanted to try it in the first place, a guilty pleasure of sorts. The taste was nice, mostly sweet, but with a tone of bitterness, it still being an alcohol-based drink. He readily took in a bigger portion of the beer, smiling at her.

She stopped sipping hers as she had been doing that too, and smiled back.

"Damn, you really love that girly-girly beer," she teased him.

"Yeah, I wonder what's coming next." He showed her his tongue for a change. "Um, about that. Alice?"

"Yes, kiddo?"

"I want to talk about sex and that kinda stuff if that's not a problem?" He seemed a bit concerned, maybe a bit scared too. She shook her head. "Alice, is there something I would have to do to... become your boyfriend?"

She chuckled.

"No, Max, I wouldn't put it like that." She bit her lip. "I'd really love to try anal, though. I've been kind of expecting it from you, I must say."

He looked at her, gawking, his eyes wider out of a sudden, his thoughts causing his butt cheeks to clench. In other words, he was shocked.

"Max, you got this all wrong!" She giggled. "What I meant was you get to fuck me; you'll penetrate me, not the other way around! Don't be silly."

His guts changed from their suddenly wrenched state to a normal, not-so-wrenched one, but he was flustering still. He only managed to smile slightly.

"I've never put it in the other hole, Alice," he confessed bluntly.

"And that's an issue how?" Her minxy smirk disarmed all fear in him. He sighed, and she reached out to tousle his hair, giggling again. "You'll be fine, kiddo. All you need to do is to help me relax, ease me..." Absent-mindedly, as he saw it, she bit the tip of her finger and let it squeeze its way out of her mouth. "But most of all, be gentle. Not all that complicated, huh?"

He glanced at her, still not convinced.

"I know you can do it, kiddo." She ran her hand through his hair, smirking at him. Her eyes were dreamy, she was already imagining it, obviously. He reflected her sweet smile. She whispered, "I know you can, Max. Should we go to the lounge now?"

"Yeah, why not," he replied just as quietly and his smile broke wide. He took another gulp of this girly beer, wondering if they were to become a loving couple. Who could say where Alice would take him? Would he be trying on some girly panties because she asked him to? His imagination, powerful by nature, wasn't much of help here.

"By the way, why 'kiddo'?" he asked, causing her to glance at him. "I mean, I don't mind, but still..."

She chuckled mysteriously, making it her secret until she decided otherwise. He would have to live with it for a while.

* * *

They sat down in the lounge, a room neither big or small, but definitely warm. Despite its relative emptiness (and a suspicious lack of TV), the room seemed to be giving a sense of hospitality. There was this leathery-like, pretty comfortable couch, and a low-height coffee table, on which they had put their beer for a moment. The bottles naturally left two small rings of cold water on its wooden top in no time, but she ignored it.

The couple was sipping their beer and tackling the topics of sex, dating, and a few similar at ease; in fact, such talks was a turn-on for both of them. Among different things, they had already established a while ago that she'd let him fuck her without a dinner... but only this time; she wasn't hungry at the moment (she had a yesterday's pizza just before going out to meet with Max), and frankly, she didn't mind as long as it wasn't going to become a norm. It even made her hornier, knowing she was breaking a common rule.

They'd been sitting like this -- as close as they could without sitting on the other's lap -- for 40 minutes or so, completely relaxed, warm, and unaware of passing time. They'd given each other more freedom of touch; with one hand each holding a bottle and their mouths responsible for talking and sharing some small and a few kisses, they still had one unoccupied hand each, which they'd already freed from holding a beer, and let themselves study each other's bodies by touch, slowly reaching where they pleased. He could feel the touch of her wonderful, firm thigh on his, as well as her breast pressing slightly on his chest while he was hugging her with his hand; the whole atmosphere was making them feel a little giddy.

He didn't mind having this beautiful female to his left; whatever the world would say, for him Alice was just this -- a female that equally deserved to call her one, just like a lot of other women he met in his life; she was just a different kind of a lady (and it didn't mean 'bad').

His let his hands roam all over her attractive body, but she eventually stopped him from going everywhere and nowhere. With a soft, relaxed smile on her pretty face, she took his right hand and put it on directly under the black fabric covering her belly. Sensing her much cooler, smooth skin under his fingers, he instantly felt bad for not paying enough attention to this spot. She didn't let him feel like this for long, though; she leaned in, and keeping his palm close to her belly, she kissed him slowly and calmly, but with a depth he could easily feel.

She broke the kiss, and still smiling so enticingly, she looked him in the eye. She stood up, took a sip of beer, and put it on the table, picking up his instead. She handed it to him and smiled mysteriously.

"Why don't you wait here, Max? I've got to get something from the bedroom. Be here in a minute. You sit here and cool down a bit." She pecked him on the cheek.

"M'kay." He tried to adjust himself on the sofa, but even that caused her to push him back with her index finger on the breastbone. He winced from the short, sharp pain it'd caused. Her face was showing playful annoyance.

"I was just—"

"Sit, kiddo," she ordered, with her finger inches from where it stung before -- it was good enough of a threat in his opinion, even when the tone of her voice appeared to be playful. "I can manage myself." With a grin, she added, "And while we're at it, I'd rather you watched the back of my head for a change," she teased. Her remark caused him to chuckle, and she didn't mind. Wagging her finger at him playfully, Alice headed straight to her bedroom.

Max watched her until she disappeared behind the door, and in a minute, she was back with three items she was pressing against her belly. His eyes widened a bit at what they were: a small box of condoms, medium bottle of some lubricant, and a box of tissues. Whatever was coming, she was well-prepared for it.

Fixing his stare at her, he swallowed an another gulp of beer and put the bottle on the table. He froze and stared at her with his fingers still around the bottle.

"What?" Alice asked with a minxy grin. "Mom always used to say that bringing a bit too much is better than running out."

"I bet by that she meant clothes."

"You're just nitpicking, sweetie."

The girl carefully placed the three items at the coffee table. She sat astride him, her lovely ass resting on his lap. She quickly leaned in for a kiss, laying her hands on the back of his neck and the head. There was nothing extraordinary about it, just a normal kiss, but again it made her feel so much more secure and accepted.

She let him take a well-deserved breath and she looked down at him; he was slowly sinking into his seat -- spongy, leathery, and cozy -- and staring back at her, lazy expression on his relaxed face, and the warm, firm hardness in the front of his pants and their left pant leg, poking her inner thigh.

"I see someone needs to get out of his pants and soon," she said. They both grinned at the same time. "Let me help you with that, young man."

She dropped down to the floor swiftly, ignoring the irrelevant pain in her knees. The only thing that saved the items on the table ("Watch out, the beer!") from tipping over was that the coffee table was placed far enough from the couch and by red cunt hair's width from where her bum had stopped. Alice sighed, looking at the table behind her, and laughed at their concern over some beer.