Shopping Something bit him. Quite hard. On the bum. He yelped and slapped at it - only to have his hand caught, the index finger sucked slowly into a warm mouth.
Devon sighed, then tensed, moaning quietly, as another warm mouth settled around his rigid cock. With Hans in front of him, suckling, one hand kneading his balls, the other pinching a nipple, and Stephan behind him, laving his hand thoroughly while two long, nimble fingers sought out his prostate and stroked firmly, Devon came fast, quivering then relaxing onto the bed. Stephan knelt between his legs, smiling impishly.
"Bonjour, mon cher!"
Devon groaned.
"Do you have to be so fuckin'… chirpy first thing in the morning?"
The Frenchman leaned down and kissed his cock.
"Mais c'est drôle, ton visage…"
"Thanks a bunch…" He glanced at the chronometer. 7.30 a.m.? What the fuck…?
"It's the middle of the fuckin' night! Why did you wake me up? Oh…" he suddenly remembered. "Shopping-fuckin'-expedition…"
Stephan grinned.
"Oui, mon cher." He glanced at Hans, who was busily jerking off, and caught his wrist, pulling back a little then wrapping his own fingers around the big cock. Hans blinked - then took Stephan's erection in hand, rubbing and kneading as they masturbated each other. It was very arousing: Devon began to rub himself, but was soon interrupted as Hans twisted a little awkwardly and took the psi's cock back into his mouth…*Morning, Dev!* Cloudie chirped at the young psi over the temporary link. *Phil said you were awake. I'm not interrupting anything am I?* she asked sweetly.
*Is everybody around here fuckin' chirpy first thing in the morning?* Dev grumbled, then smirked, *Thirty seconds earlier and you would've been interrupting.*
Cloudie laughed.
*Listen,* she continued, *I was going to talk to you yesterday, to say thanks for bringing me back to my room, but I got snowed under with work – so, thanks for taking me home, that was very sweet of you.*
*No problem,* Devon yawned, *didn't want to leave you sleeping in the park.*
*Wouldn't be the first time!* Cloudie laughed again. *Okay, you have a good day and I'll see you soon…*
*Hang on,* Devon interrupted, *are you busy today?*
*Not really, it's s'posed to be a rest day for me.*
*Good.* Devon grinned. *Stephan's hi-jacking me to go shopping. Wanna come?*
*Later, definitely,* Cloudie giggled throatily at the innuendo, *but shopping? Sure!*
*Great. See you at my place -* there was a pause as Devon consulted with his 'advisor', *in about half an hour?*
*Sure thing, sweetie. See you then!*Cloudie scrambled out of bed and into the shower, quickly lathering herself with the strawberry scented gel that left behind a delicate layer of shimmering gold glitter on her creamy skin. She stood naked in the middle of the room, waiting for her skin to air-dry and pondered her choice of clothing for the day. Which was silly really, it didn't matter what she wore it's not like she was trying to impress anyone was it…?
The tinkerer eventually settled on her favourite pair of old, soft, tight blue-jeans – the ones with the bright rainbow and butterfly patches on the arse – a pair of comfortable, dark brown elastic-sided ankle boots with a moderate heel; the very pretty kingfisher-blue shirt (the one she'd worn on her first 'date' with Devon) knotted under her bust again and left unbuttoned to show her usual tight, white crop-top; and to top it all off, her waist-length purple suede jacket, the one that had bright, round silver beads clamped to the ends of the long fringes running down the rear of each sleeve and across the back of the jacket.
Once she was dressed, Cloudie had just enough time to gulp down a glass of fruit juice and have a piece of toast before darting out of her room.
Cloudie was nearing Devon's room when she spotted the impressive bulk of Ox in front of her, pacing deliberately in the same direction.
"Hey, Ox!" Cloudie jogged up to him.
"Howdee, Cloudie," Ox beamed down at her. "'m going shopping with Devon."
"That's great! I'm going too!" Cloudie slipped her arm through the big man's, "this is going to be fun, isn't it?"Hans had disappeared off to work for the day, and Devon and Stephan were decently dressed by the time Cloud and Ox arrived.
Well, Devon was decently dressed, in his usual black jeans and a black sweatshirt and boots. Stephan, however…
"You must be fuckin' joking!"
Stephan glanced down at himself. The skintight catsuit with lightly flared cuffs left nothing to the imagination, and kept changing colour, flashing and swirling in eye-bending patterns that threatened to give the psi a headache. The Frenchman pouted, affronted.
"But it is the latest fashion from Paris!"
Devon rubbed his eyes and poured another mug of coffee.
"Remind me not to visit…" he muttered, then called out "Yeah…?" at the knock on the door. Cloud opened it and bounced in, closely followed by the big blocker. Devon eyed the tinkerer appraisingly before standing up to hug her: she looked good, a little less colourful than usual but given how conspicuous they'd be with Stephan in their midst…
She smelt nice too, he thought, nuzzling her neck.
"Hi. Glad you're coming too." He grinned up at Ox, slightly startled when the big man grabbed him into an enthusiastic cuddle, lifting him off the floor.
"Howdee, l'il guy! 'Citing, isn't it?"
It was Devon's considered opinion that Ox probably didn't get out much."Hi!" Cloudie enveloped Devon in a warm hug, burying her nose in his hair, letting herself linger in his arms for just a second – until she spotted the grinning Frenchman.
"Stephan!" she squeaked zipping over to run a palm down the satiny fabric covering the man's arm, "this is gorgeous! It's so you!"
"Merci, ma chère, it is good to know that some people," he shot a baleful look at Devon, "can appreciate haute couture!"
The TK snorted.
"If that's fuckin' haute couture you can fuckin' keep it!" He gazed around the small group that nevertheless made his suite feel crowded. "OK. Where're we going first?"
There was another tap on the door.
"Who's it now?" Devon growled, eyeing the crowd in his room. Anyone else and he'd start feeling claustrophobic! "Come in!"
John was standing outside, as neatly dressed as ever, and with him was a tall man, broad-shouldered, powerfully built, dressed casually in black boots, with dark denim jeans and jacket and a teal shirt. The feathery wisps of silver at his temples stood out against the shining dark brown of his longish, wavy hair.
"This is James," John introduced him to Devon, "one of our top 'path field Agents. He'll be going with you."
"Hi," James voice was raw silk, and his tanned skin crinkled slightly around his deep, brown eyes when he smiled.
At the sight of the tall, rugged looking man, Cloudie yipped happily and flung herself into his arms, wrapping herself tightly around him.
"Nigel! When did you get back?"
"Yesterday." He grinned, hugging the woman tightly, lowering his head to her upturned face and kissing her deeply. Cloudie pulled back after a moment and pouted at him.
"Yesterday? Why didn't you come and see me?"
'Nigel' laughed, a deep, mellow sound that seemed to originate from somewhere in his pelvis.
"Give a man a chance to get his breath back! Besides…" he smiled fondly at her, "I need to be well rested before I spend any time with you."
"All right, you're forgiven." Cloudie grinned up at him. "I missed you."
"Missed you too, Goldilocks."
'Nigel' stooped to kiss the eager woman again, and it was only Stephan's pointed clearing of his throat which interrupted them.
"Shall we depart?" the Frenchman said with a grin.Devon was sulking. This was supposed to be a shopping trip. Now, as far as he was aware, that involved going to a few shops, picking up what was needed, and going home again. A nice, sensible, quiet experience that you did with a friend or two at most. Or so he'd gathered from the people at Agency HQ. But not for him, oh no. No, he had to have a fuckin' circus with him!
And who the fuck was this James bastard?
He trailed along behind Cloud and James and Stephan, trying to look as though they were nothing to do with him, then jumped at the hand on his shoulder. He twisted to look up into Ox's big face: the blocker looked a little anxious.
"You OK, l'il… Devon?"
The TK nodded, resigned.
"Yeah, I'm fine Ox. Just not used to this - fuss…"
The big man patted his hair gently.
"Aww, it'll be OK, Devon."
I'll believe that when I fuckin' see it…There was a transport waiting for them outside HQ main entrance, a big black hovercab. They piled in - Ox taking up two seats and with his head tilted sideways and still pressing against the roof - and Cloudie asked the driver for Oxford St…
It had always been famous as one of the places to shop. These days it was huge, with mall-sized stores and tiny specialist shops and restaurants offering food from everywhere in the world… You could spend a couple of weeks here and still not explore everything it had to offer.
It was the first time Devon had been there, and the vast pedestrianised area was frighteningly noisy and crowded. He licked his lips and moved a little closer to Ox, who instinctively wrapped a beefy arm around his shoulders.
"Don' worry, l'il guy! I'll look after you.""Mais non. Is too gauche for le petit!"
"But Stephan, they have gorgeous stuff there, all real organic material and such lovely colours…"
"Is… primitif. Is not for our Devon!"
The young psi in question sighed. Stephan's accent got stronger and his English worse when he was agitated, and he and Cloud had been arguing for five minutes now over which shop to visit first. Cloud was pointing to a large ethnic store, while Stephan wanted to visit his favourite - upmarket and very expensive - boutique. And Devon had had enough. A store across the road caught his eye, and he growled their names loudly. Surprised, they both turned to him, and he pointed.
"We're starting there."
"There?" They spoke in chorus, both dismayed. He nodded firmly - and Ox grinned. The shop in question was an end-of-line store, carrying a variety of menswear at very low prices. He'd bought clothes there before: they stocked his size, something that could be said of very few outlets.
"Thass a good idea, Devon!"
The TK smirked, then glowered at his friends.
"We'll start there."Honestly Cloudie had no idea it would be such a trial shopping with Devon, he simply refused to listen to reason, or advice. Fair enough he had his own 'style' – which could do with some brightening up anyway – but he could at least hear what she had to say about colour combinations. Oh well, at least Dev was equally not listening to Stephan's advice either...
Behind her, James chuckled.
"Give the boy a break, Cloudie, he's obviously not used to having this wide a range to choose from."
"But – "
"Ah!" James placed a large finger over her lips, "Let him be."
Cloudie pouted, then smirked and tilted her head sideways so she could nibble slowly along the length of the finger against her lips, her grey-blue eyes sparkling cheekily at the tall man. James's eyes darkened and his lips curved into a small, wicked half-smile.
*Later.* He said on their long established private channel. James glanced at the young TK, who was pointedly ignoring them. *Besides, I'm not top of your list.*
Cloudie laughed out loud.
*But you are on it, don't ever forget that!*Cloudie stopped, suddenly, in the middle of the pavement, the rest of them walking on a few paces before they realised she wasn't with them any more.
Devon looked back over his shoulder at her and frowned; something had pissed her off. A tight-lipped scowl replaced Cloud's normally open and friendly countenance, and her arms were folded belligerently over her breasts. For a second Devon thought she was angry at them, but then he looked along her line of sight - over to the other side of the street, to a man, a courier by the looks of it, in battered leathers heaping abuse, and the occasional kick, on an obviously stalled motorbike.
"Cloudie…" James's growl was half warning, half exasperation.
"I'll be right back." Cloudie strode determinedly across the open area, dodging shoppers with ease. James groaned.
"Not again! Every time she sets foot outside of the bloody building…"
"What's going on?" Devon asked, watching the woman with some concern - it looked like she was confronting the man and he didn't look impressed.
"Most kids bring home injured animals." James shook his head. "Cloudie brings home cars, bikes, sodding lawn-mowers…"
"Should we get over there? Is she going to do something stupid?"
"Depends on how reasonable the 'criminally negligent' vehicle owner is going to be." James's expression was wry as he continued watching the woman, "She's gotten in to fights over things like this before now."
"Why?" Devon was baffled, "They're just…"
"Not to Cloudie. She feels mechanical problems as a physical pain," the broad psi tapped his fist on his sternum, "in here. The more severe the problem the sharper the pain is for her."
James hadn't taken his eyes off the earnest discussion – not quite an argument – going on across the road while he spoke to Devon, standing poised and watchful while Cloudie gave the bike rider a talking to. He relaxed only when he saw her nod curtly and zip off through the crowds.
"Oh great. She's bought the bike." James rolled his eyes. "Probably paying more than it's worth, again."
"Where's she gone?" Devon tried to follow her progress down the crowded street.
"To get a cash-card, most likely." James looked back at the three men. "Do you want to go ahead, we'll catch up?"
Devon paused, undecided, then Stephan tugged on his elbow.
"Viens, mon cher. You 'ave to see this place…"
He glanced back, flamboyantly indicating to James that he was taking Devon into a nearby art shop. The older man nodded, resignedly, and made his way across the road…The shop was crowded, and Ox opted to wait outside, watching out for Cloudie and James. Inside, it was a riot of colour, with posters and pictures lining the walls and stacked in containers on the floor, statuary, kinetic figurines and mobiles dotted around the place, and different sorts of artware displayed on monitor screens everywhere one looked. Devon frowned at Stephan.
"Why are we here?"
The Frenchman grinned.
"Your rooms, they are too plain. You need to 'ave something on the walls. We will be sure to find something 'ere."
It was a novel idea - Devon very quickly found the idea appealing. The only problem was there was so much fucking choice…!
Then he spotted something hanging on the far wall. Two somethings, actually. He went to take a closer look.
And quite simply fell in love. They weren't overly large pieces, although they felt like it. Stylised, very simple, old-fashioned prints of oil paintings. One, a white beach under a flawless blue sky, the sea a deep turquoise, a small island just offshore feathery with a copse of exotic trees. The other, a vivid gold and royal blue sunset over a similar beach, the white sand dyed a deep copper from the setting sun. He stared at them, the noise of the crowd around him vanishing as a strange peace reached out to him from the pictures. It was several long seconds before he realised Stephan had been speaking to him.
"You like?"
"I want them." Devon spoke without taking his eyes off the paintings. Stephan grinned and waved at one of the shop staff…Cloudie's eyes narrowed - James was chatting amiably to the pig-bastard she'd just rescued the bike from - he'd better not think of interfering, he wasn't her minder any more.
"There you go," she handed a small, thin, rectangle of blue plastic to the stranger who took it, checking the amount encoded on it with an ubiquitous card-reader he had in his wallet. He nodded, satisfied and Cloudie produced a mini datapad from her bag, quickly typing in the details of the transaction. She thrust it at him.
"Sign here. Please."
He did, and handed it back to her with a,
"Right, that hunk of junk is all yours."
Cloudie smiled tightly.
"Wouldn't be a hunk of junk if you looked after her.""All right, how much did you pay for it?" James, looking stern, asked after the man had stalked off. He blanched when she told him.
"How much?"
"My decision, James," Cloudie said reasonably, her good humour returning rapidly. "'sides, what else do I spend my money on?" She squatted down beside the bike, running her hands over the engine cover, crooning softly.
"Oh, baby, what's he done to you?"
"Can you ride it back?"
"Nuh," Cloudie said, "she needs some major work before she'll start up again." She smiled indulgently at the motorbike, stroking it gently. "And a new coat of paint when we're done, baby. What d'you reckon - purple? Yeah, I think that'd be great…"
James sighed resignedly and pulled out his phone.
"I'll ring for transport."Cloudie and James met back up with Stephan and Devon as they were leaving the art shop, Stephan smirking smugly. He grabbed Cloudie's arm and whispered in a conspiratorial fashion in her ear…
Three hours later, his head spinning, Devon growled at everyone to 'fuckin' stop…' Ox eyed him anxiously, and the TK sighed and patted his hand.
"S'OK, Ox, I'm not angry. I'm fuckin' hungry, and I've got a headache, and I want to sit down somewhere quiet for a few minutes."
James smiled.
"Lunch is a good idea. OK - Neurons, everyone. Let's see what's on the menu today."
Stephan squealed delightedly and grabbed Devon's hand.
"Qu' bonne idée! You will like Neurons!"Ronald Williams, a far-sighted Agency executive, had decided, some years back, that it would be useful to have a 'safe' place in the city, somewhere psis could gather to relax, meet partners or talk with sympathetic - and thoroughly vetted - flatscans. Accordingly an old warehouse on the banks of the Thames had been bought and gutted and effectively rebuilt as a bar/restaurant/occasional hostel. It sported a wonderful balcony 'beer garden' overlooking the river, and boasted one of the best chefs in Europe. A couple of powerful 'paths and a resident empath were employed to make sure the place stayed safe, and nullpsi in the walls made it opaque to outside minds, guaranteeing a rare measure of privacy for the patrons. Agency members loved the place. It was known as New Ron's by the flatscans.
It was fairly busy today. They found a table in a riverside window in the 'pub' part of the building, done out like an old-fashioned country inn - Ox settling himself carefully on the sturdy wooden bench - and Cloudie fought Stephan for possession of the menu until Devon growled and reached for a couple of spares from the adjoining table.
"Fish 'n' chips and pickles. And a cider."
James chuckled and ruffled Cloudie's hair - much to Devon's annoyance.
"Nice to know some things never change…"
Stephan opted for a green salad with vinaigrette dressing - ignoring James' wry comment about him managing to make a lettuce leaf last an hour - and a bottle of French mineral water. With James' steak and kidney pudding, Devon's ploughman's lunch, and Ox's double order of steak and chips with all the trimmings, and assorted beers, wine and fruit juices, the table was groaning by the time all the plates had been set down, and there was a brief but contented silence as everyone ate.
Devon laid down his knife and fork and leaned back, hands behind his head, sighing happily.
"Fuck, that's better!"
"Mon cher, if you 'ad 'ad le petit déjeuner, you would not 'ave been so 'ungry."
The TK raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah - and who was it who kept me too fuckin' busy to eat?"
Stephan laughed and waved a hand airily.
"It was a pleasure, chéri…"
As the chat ebbed and flowed, Devon was acutely aware of the attention Cloudie was lavishing on James. He was also aware that he didn't like it one little bit. What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn't own Cloudie - wouldn't dream of any such thing - so why was he coming on so possessive? He frowned to himself. He didn't like James, but he couldn't work out why. It was fuckin' annoying…James jerked his head towards the toilets.
"Back in a moment - don't drink my beer!"
Cloudie laughed, feigning injured innocence then propped her elbows up on the table and chin in hand, smiled softly as she watched him stride away through the pub.
"So," Devon drawled from beside her, "James is a friend of yours?"
"Uhuh." Cloudie turned to face the young psi. "My oldest friend at the Agency. He took care of me when I first arrived."
"'Took care of you', eh?" Devon's smirk was bordering on unpleasant. "I just fucking bet he did."
"No, that didn't happen until a few years later," Cloudie smiled, refusing to be riled by the nastiness in Devon's tone. "James looked out for me; gave me the feeling I was protected, safe - something I desperately needed. He was like my family here."
"Appropriate, he's old enough to be your fuckin' father." Devon muttered.
"Not quite." The tinkerer laughed lightly. She gently covered his hand, where it lay clenched on the table top, with her own. "So, having fun?"
"No." Devon snarled, then smirked ruefully, "Sort of. Though I don't know why I'm buying all this stuff, I don’t need it, and you and Stephan's arguing over what I should get is driving me fuckin' nuts!"
Cloudie laughed.
"Chin up. It'll be over soon!"
Devon gulped a couple of mouthfuls of his tonic water.
"Why do you call him Nigel?"
Cloudie blinked, surprised by the young psi's pulling the conversation back to James - she thought it'd finished…
"It's Travellers' slang - an insult or an endearment - it means someone who lives a 'proper' life within the cage 'society' imposes." She smiled. "I'd never had much contact with 'normal' - I mean non-traveller - people and James seemed so straight to me at first."
"And he's not?"
Cloudie laughed.
"Straighter than some, more twisted - in a nice way - than most."James returned to their table, and soon afterwards they opted to leave: there were still a few shops Stephan and Cloudie wanted to inflict on Devon…
One thing the Agency 'recommended' to its psis when they were out amongst the general public was that they didn't use their talents unnecessarily. The foremost reason for this was simply protection; it lessened the chance of them being detected and facing a potentially hostile reaction, and more ominously, it lessened the chance of them being snatched, kidnapped by those groups with less altruistic agendas.
"Cloudie!" James growled at the tinkerer - again - as she casually brushed her fingertips over yet another vehicle she was sauntering past, deftly fixing the small mechanical problem she'd sensed, "You know better than that."
"If I can fix it, I will," she said softly but with a defiant lift of her chin, then she leant into him, gazing up at the broad male with melodramatically adoring eyes. "Besides, I have nothing to fear with you here." she twittered breathlessly.
James glowered down at her, strong hands on lean hips.
"You test me, wench."
"Heh, keeps you on your toes," Cloudie grinned, slipping her hand into his.They finally headed back to Agency HQ at six, bundled into another hovercab that James had arranged, using his phone again. Devon had frowned at that - James was a 'path, why didn't he just *call*? Cloudie had grinned.
"The 'paths try not to use their talents for non-essentials. Keeps the *airwaves* clear for emergencies, or scanning Agents on assignment."
The TK nodded - that made sense.
They rode back in a companionable silence, all of them tired. In the extensive foyer of the building they'd said goodbyes and gone their separate ways, Ox back to the nursery to check on the children, Devon and Stephan to Devon's suite - and James and Cloudie, to Devon's intense annoyance, headed off together.James had walked Cloudie back to her room, accepting her offer of a cup of coffee but stressing he had things to attend to shortly, he couldn't stay. The tinkerer pouted and sighed but understood; James was pretty high up in the Agency's ranks of covert field agents – he wasn't at her beck and call.
*How long are you back for this time?* Cloudie asked as she handed him his drink.
*Don't know, few days at least.*
*Good.* Cloudie smiled softly at him. *I have missed you and I'd like to spend some time with you if it's all right.*
James cupped her face in a broad hand, stroking his thumb over the spiral tattoo.
*I'd like that. I've missed you too – missed your brightness.*
Cloudie turned her head to kiss his palm.
*I'm always here for you.*
James smiled.
*Thanks, but I'm not going to get in the way of anything new you have going on.*
*Don't know that there's anything 'going on'.* Cloudie sighed wistfully, thinking of Devon. *It's all very casual...* She grinned. *But you could join in.*
*I don't think so.*
*Oh, come on, Nigel, it'll be fun!*
*Not my thing, Goldilocks, you know that.*
*Devon's good enough to make you forget you're not into guys…* she wheedled.
James *laughed*.
*Maybe so, but I'm not into moresomes either.*
Cloudie sighed heavily.
*How can someone who screws as well as you do be so straight?!*
He grinned unrepentantly, kissed her one last time then let her go.
*I have to go. I'll see you soon.*
*Soon! OK?* Cloudie pouted. *Before you bloody disappear again.*
*I promise.* James regarded her seriously. *Watch yourself with the boy.*
*Devon?* She blinked and shrugged. *He's okay.*
*He's a brat.*
*No he's not,* Cloudie frowned, *he's just not had the benefit of being raised by people who love and value him.*
*Maybe.* James brushed another kiss over her lips. *Just watch yourself - I don't want to see you get hurt again.*
She arched an eyebrow at him.
*I'm a big girl now, James, I can look out for myself.*
*Suuure you can.* James smirked. *I have to go.*After he'd left, Cloudie paced restlessly then flopped down onto her grass-green, over-stuffed couch. She was feeling... randy, and hungry, and she didn't want to be alone tonight. Devon sprang immediately to mind and Cloudie wondered if he was busy. She grinned, only one way to find out – well two actually, but Cloudie wanted to see Devon, not just *talk*...
Pissed off, dissatisfied and vaguely aroused, Devon slumped on his bed, flopping back and rubbing his eyes. He was knackered…
He couldn't believe they'd bought so much! Why the fuck did he need so many clothes? Though he had to admit he'd enjoy the books. And those paintings - they were so very beautiful... Everything was being delivered tomorrow: Stephan had promised he'd take delivery and put everything away while Devon was out of the suite.
Devon sighed and tugged on the earring in his left ear. It felt a little odd. He didn't remember having his ears pierced - presumably one of the foster families had had it done, for some reason or other - and as far as he knew he'd never worn anything in them, certainly not recently. But he liked these drops, the red gold enhancing the copper of his hair, the peridot pendants almost the same colour as his eyes. But as for the rest of his purchases…
Stephan had seized upon his choice of pictures and decreed his rooms should be deep turquoise and dark gold and rich blue with green accents - and proceeded, with Cloud enthusiastically helping, to hunt down bedding, and towels, and cushions, and window coverings, and lighting, and bathroom implements, in those colours. They'd even nagged - sorry, persuaded - him into buying a royal blue silk shirt and several green and turquoise cropped t-shirts, though he'd drawn the line at some of Cloud's more… eccentric choices.
Cloud… He scowled. He didn't want to think about her - and what she was most likely doing - right now.
Stephan handed him a mug of coffee with a dash of whisky, the fiery heat relaxing him after the stress of the day… Devon blinked as he suddenly realised he was hungry…Cloudie tapped on Devon's door.
"Come in." the young psi didn't sound too sociable. Didn't look very sociable either, scowling at her from under his fringe.
"Dinner?" she asked with a smile.
"Why?" Devon grumbled from the bed, "Your first choice dump you?"
"You were always my first choice," Cloudie smiled, unruffled by Devon's show of petulance. She prowled over to the bed, kneeling up beside him on the mattress. "So…" she fiddled with the top button of his black shirt as she nuzzled the corner of his mouth, "…dinner?"
Devon resisted for a couple of seconds before deciding to respond in kind.
"Yeah, all right." He trailed his fingertips over a soft, full breast, "but I want a bath first."
"No problem," Cloudie nipped at his bottom lip, "I can wash your back..."He insisted on a shower first, and washed his own hair and then hers, borrowing one of Stephan's expensive, French designer shampoos for her mane of ringlets and following up with a matching conditioner before filling the bath with water and his favourite foaming oil. Seconds later he was lying in it, head resting against a bath pillow and Cloud straddling his waist, his erection nestling between her thighs. She grinned at him, then tweaked a nipple.
"You should get these pierced, y'know."
He blinked.
"Why?"
She sat back a little, putting delicious pressure on his cock, and tilted her head to one side, rubbing her thumbs over both small nubs, raising a small shiver.
"You'd look great." She leaned forwards and nipped one lightly. His hands reached for her breasts, flicking her own tit-rings, and she caught her breath, wriggling her backside slightly. He smirked up at her through his wet fringe, eyes gleaming, then lifted her enough to slide her down onto his erection…
"Mmmmmm…." Her eyes closed, head rolling back as his hand teased downwards from her nipple to her navel, flicking the ring there, then further down to her groin, tugging gently at her clit ring as she squirmed, hips rocking back and forth.
He grinned and began to tease and fondle her clit, rolling and pressing the ring while tweaking and flicking her nipples and the rings there. And she came, quickly, cunt quivering and vibrating around his cock so that he very nearly climaxed, himself.
Nearly but not quite. As she leaned forwards, panting against him, he kissed her then nipped the edge of her jaw, grinning.
"Wonder how many times I can make you come before the water gets cold?"
She laughed delightedly and nibbled at his collarbone, one hand reaching behind her to stroke his balls.
"Well, you could always give it a try…"
There was a quiet tap on the door and Stephan poked his head into the bathroom. Devon scowled.
"Thought you'd fuckin' gone!"
"Soon, chéri... shall I order some food for you?"
Cloudie twinkled at the Frenchman.
"Pizza. With everything on. And cheescake for pudding… Um… Toffee… or strawberry…" She bit her lip, frowning at Devon as though the fate of mankind depended on the right choice. "Which would you prefer?"
"Raspberry and lemon."
She blinked at him.
"Raspberry and lemon? Oooh! Where can you get that?"
"Marconi's. Old Croydon."
Stephan's eyebrows rose, but he nodded.
"They will deliver, yes?"
"Throw 'em enough money and they will!"
The Frenchman sketched an elaborate bow, grinning widely.
"Your wish is my command… 'ow long will you be, do you think?"
Cloudie glanced down at Devon, then back up.
"Say… forty-five minutes. That long enough?"
"Mais oui…"
"Good. Bye!"
Chuckling, Stephan closed the door. Cloudie turned her attention back to Devon, still rigid within her, feeling heat building in her groin again. She scratched lightly down his body, feeling his cock twitch in her cunt as his fingers fondled the clit ring again…
It took her longer to come this time, but at the end Devon was sitting upright with her in his lap, his arms tightly around her waist and thrusting upwards powerfully as he licked and suckled her nipples, tongue twining over and around the tit-rings and pulling firmly. She gasped as he came, the throbbing of his cock deliciously pushing her over into her own orgasm. She collapsed against him, panting, forehead pressed to his.
He licked her nose. She giggled.
"Water's cold." He grimaced as his stomach grumbled. "Food should be here soon, too."
She sighed and reluctantly lifted herself, enjoying the feel of him slipping from her body, then stood upright. He followed her, then pulled the plug and reached for the shower spray to rinse them both free of conditioner, bubbles and semen…Wrapped in a big soft towel, another around her hair, Cloudie sat cross-legged on the bed as Stephan lifted deep crust pizza onto a large plate and popped the cheesecake into the small fridge - then smirked at them both.
"I will leave you to it, mes amis. Bonne nuit - à demain!"
By the time he'd closed the door Cloudie had already wolfed down half a large slice of pizza-with-everything. Devon chuckled and picked up his own slice, nodding appreciatively. It was good, and exactly right after a hard day's shopping and some good clean fun...
He was continually amazed by Cloud's appetite, and yet she was anything but fat. Sleek, soft and rounded, but there was muscle under the smooth skin. He stroked her ankle where it protruded from the towel. She had such pretty feet.
She smiled at him, beautiful eyes warm and affectionate.
"I enjoyed today. Thanks for inviting me."
He grinned.
"Welcome. Don't expect me to do it often though!"
She chuckled.
"I won't. Can I help you decorate? If you join the Agency, that is."
"I guess so."
"Thanks. With a bit of luck they'll put you higher up the building: the views are nicer."
He frowned.
"Uh, what do you mean?"
"This is just an entrant's suite. When… uh, if… you join, you'll be allocated a bigger place, with a spare bedroom and a little office."
He inclined his head. That sounded nice.
"And I'd love to help you decorate. The Agency will let you repaint, if you want."
He considered the idea and nodded.
"We'll see what happens." He smirked. "Ready for cheesecake?"
"Oooh, yes!"As he handed her the plate she grinned impishly.
"Lie down."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"D'you always ask questions?"
"Yeah. It's safer that way…"
She sighed.
"Trust me, just a little?"
He eyed her for a moment, then lay down. She grinned, twitched his towel open - and dabbed a little raspberry and lemon cream onto his cock, grinning at his wide-eyed startlement for a second before leaning down and slowly licking it off.
"Fuck!"
She nuzzled the rapidly engorging flesh at his groin and smeared a little more of the filling along his shaft, teeth and lips nibbling slowly, cleaning the rich sweet from him. He groaned and quivered faintly, eyes closing.
"Nice?"
"Fuck, yeah…"
"I like it too."
He circled his hips, thighs spreading, erect cock twitching.
"Oh, yeah…"
She pulled back a little, smiling. He looked so young, so… vulnerable, stretched out before her…
She settled herself between his thighs and with tongue and lips teased and fondled him, fingertips tickling his balls and stroking the thin sensitive skin between his legs, scratching lightly at his anus… He bit back a cry and came in her mouth, hands clenched in the towel, eyes tightly closed. She smiled to herself and gently, slowly, eased him from her mouth, kissing his shaking body as she moved up to lie beside him.
His eyes were still closed.
"… oh fuck…"
The hoarse whisper sent a jolt straight to her groin, and she bit his shoulder - perhaps a little harder than she'd intended. He winced and turned to regard her - then grinned and pushed himself up onto one elbow, hand flicking a tit-ring.
"Any cheesecake left?"She was shaking, completely limp after that last climax. Devon's face was buried in her groin, tongue gently licking her labia and clit-ring, hands cupping her breasts lightly, fingers caressing her rings…
She'd come twice more, each time more intense than the last. Devon knew exactly what he was doing: he was obviously very experienced. She wondered, distantly, if he'd actually been a prostitute in the past… if so, it was a bloody high-quality one…
One last lingering lick along her vulva and he sighed, warm breath ghosting over her groin as he slid up beside her, finger stroking down the side of her cheek.
"Sleepy?"
She nodded - and yawned, chuckling sleepily.
"C'n I stay here tonight? Too tired to go home…"
He nuzzled her neck.
"Sure. OK. Sleep…"
Shoving the towels into an untidy heap on the floor and wincing at the tangled mess of his hair, he dragged the quilt over them both and pulled her close, snuggling comfortably against her warmth. She was already asleep, a sweet weight against his shoulder. He brushed a kiss over her forehead and dimmed the light.
Everything else could wait until the morning.
© 2003 February 11th Joules and Lutra
Darkside