Kyle/Miranda, Original #1and #3
Pairing/Fandom: Kyle Green and MIranda Ryan
Theme: #1 Anonymity or "Taken By the Faceless Stranger" and #3 The Sexuality of Terror, or "Help, I'm Out of Control, Thank God!"
Title: Dirty Little Secret
Author/Artist:
the_flowergirl
Disclaimer: I can proudly say I own them. If you want to borrow them, you may, but you must ask my permission or I'll be very angry.
Dirty Little Secret
Challenge 1 and Challenge 3
She skipped around the dining room, setting places. Kyle was coming over! She laughed at herself as she set the silverware. She felt like a teenager again, singing about love. ‘But it’s not love,’ she had told herself in the car on the way home. ‘He’s no more than Chris.’
Chris had been her longtime fuck-buddy in college. He was the rebound guy. Jake, her longtime boyfriend, and first love, dumped her the week before he left for Boston. No sense in keeping her high school love around anyway, was there; funny thing like sex and love getting in the way of school and degrees. She met Chris in her psychology class. A six foot two gorgeous blond god, sky blue eyes and well-toned frame. She slipped him her number after class one day and fucked him later that night. He called her from his cell and they were supposed to go out for a date, but never made it out of the parking lot. The relationship continued until the end of junior year, when Chris graduated. Her senior year she met Keith, the virgin. Playing into his little game, she told him she was going to wait until the time was right.
The day they graduated, she took his innocence in his parent’s bed. The relationship lasted two years. After that was Paul. After grad school was Mike. He left her that rainy March morning because he found the used pregnancy test in the trash. He didn’t know how he could handle being a father; he was only twenty-four, and Miranda got that new job at the advertising firm? He couldn’t take it and was gone by morning.
Kyle was the sixth; the hot new receptionist that was assigned to her a week after starting her new job. How she fantasized about pushing that tight ass back on the desk and fucking him until he begged her to stop. He was supposed to be the rebound guy. A passing lay to get the bad out of her, but somehow, she just couldn’t let him go. She invited him to dinner. No harm in that. Besides, her living floor was a hundred times softer than the closet door.
The doorbell rang as she was stirring the sauce. It was energy food, alfredo with shrimp and breadsticks and veggies. She planned ahead! Putting a lid on the sauce, she wiped her hands on the rag by the stove.
“Come in!” she yelled, straightening herself.
She heard the door click shut. He removed his shoes, and ran to the kitchen as she turned to greet him. Slipping the blindfold over her eyes, he pushed her hips against the counter.
“You won’t move, if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered in her ear.
“Kyle?” she asked as he covered her mouth.
:”I can’t tell you who this is, but I’ll allow you to scream it if it’s good enough.”
Pressing up against her hips, he unbuttoned her blouse. She was wearing no bra and his hands brushed against her bare breasts. Unbuttoning it far enough to his liking, he made his way back up, playing with her nipples. Sensations already taking hold, she turned her head to expose her neck. Placing his lips on her neck, he blazed a trail while gently pulling her nipples.
“Ohhh,” she moaned as her hands used the countertop and sink for hand holds.
Abandoning one breast, Kyle moved his hand to her waistline, creeping under her skirt, her found her panties and removed them; the same pink lace ones from earlier. Sliding them to the floor, he slid one finger inside her. She hitched in her breath as he brought it back out. Covered with ample lubrication, he slid his finger over her clit, pushing in on it from behind her. Her head jerked up and she almost lost the blindfold. Moving his hands, he straightened it.
“Now now, look what you’ve done. I suppose I’m going to have to punish you more, aren’t I?”
He unzipped his fly. Already aroused, he spilled out, ready to be received. Angling himself slightly, he slid into her, trapping her against the counter.
He moved inside her, going deeper and pushing harder each time. Her hands held the counter in a death grip as he fucked her, hard and grunting. She came once, screaming his name. She came again, breasts spilling over the counter. He pounded into her hard enough that she was sure she was going to have bruises in the morning. The water boiled over, spilling out noodles. He came, crying her mangled name as she begged him to stop.
Pressed against the counter they cooled, panting as her alfredo burned. He removed her blindfold and pulled himself out of her.
“Your dinner’s ruined,” he said, catching his breath.
“We’ll just order out, I guess,” Miranda said, fixing herself.
They never quite got around to ordering food. Twenty minutes later, she took him on the coffee table, papers flying as she pushed them aside and stripped him of his clothes. The sex in the closet and his surprise greeting still wasn’t enough. The yearning was too great. Five months without a man can play tricks on a person; make her do things she wouldn’t normally do, like an afternoon romp in the storage closet or not smacking the guy who took her from behind, playing up on the assault role play. It can also make her yell the out the wrong name!
Her hands clenched his shoulders, breath ragged. Her red hair, which she had fixed before he arrived had come lose, and hung in her eyes; like little strands of fire blinding her. She was going to come, she knew it, just a few second longer and: “Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh God! Oh God! Oh! Jake! Oh!”
She was jarred out of her orgasm by the look of shock on Kyle’s face.
“Oh my God!” she gasped, embarrassed.
“Fuck.” she muttered, sliding off him.
~*~
“So how many partners have you had?” Kyle asked Miranda over take-out Chinese food twenty-five minutes later.
“Why?” she asked, gulping the rest of her Coke down.
“Well, aside from the obvious; you’re too good to have only had one.”
“Oh come on,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chest. “You can’t think you were my first.”
His look of hopefulness gave her all the answers she needed.
“Jake Roberts was my first. We met in high school at a hockey game. I was there with a bunch of friends; he was there with his family. I think his sister was dating the goalie or something. We dated all through our junior and senior year. He promised me he’d make us closer for my birthday. His parents were out of town and we had the house to ourselves. His birthday present was a gift-wrapped penis and a card. Well, no, not really, but that seems like the only thing I can remember…I think he made me a cake and dinner, with candles and everything. But the first time was so bad, I made him pull out and try it again. Five more times we tried. He came, but that wasn’t hard to do. Saturday night he got it right. God, I loved him though I loved everything about him too, from that piece of hair he just couldn’t keep down to the way he looked at me after class that would make me melt and just want to take him in the parking lot. Out of all the men I’ve been with, I don’t think I’ve had a connection with any of them like I did with Jake. Except for maybe Mike. I thought for sure I’d marry him.”
‘No, that’s not right!’ she screamed at herself. This wasn’t how she usually did things with the men she slept with. But what was the harm in swapping sex stories anyway? She continued.
“Chris Owens was my second. Jake dumped me before he left for school and I couldn’t get over him and worked out my frustration with him. We dated casually until he graduated. He taught me most of everything I know. Then I met Keith Murray. I tried the dating game; he said he was saving himself for the right one. After we slept together he got really boring. Paul Davenport was my man I called if I was down. We casually dated until Mike Hanson came around last year. I thought for sure he’d marry me-in fact, the day after he left me, I find the ring in his underwear drawer.”
“I’m sorry,” Kyle said. “I can try to make it better.”
He paused, waiting for the right words to come.
“My first was when I was nineteen. She was twenty-five and more experienced. I met her at a party my friends dragged me to. I thought it was love and twenty minutes and a dark room later, it was done. I called her the next week. You know, I never knew. I’ve dated off and on a few times, but nothing to really merit it as counting toward anything. It’s been a very boring sex life for me.”
“I’d be willing to make it more interesting,” she said, turning to face him.
“Really?” he asked, looking into her blue eyes.
“Yes, but I’d prefer to do it in my bed.”
Throwing the blanket off, she ran to the stairs. Kyle pinned her to the wall before she could open the door. His hand caressed her breasts through her open shirt. Opening the door, she pushed him to the bed, making short work of what remained. Her shirt joined his pants. Straddling him, she ran her hands down his slender frame. She never realized how toned he was-the company weight room treated him well, Very well, she noted. Sliding her hands between his thighs, she massaged his balls slowly, lowering her mouth to his. She kissed him deeply and worked her way down, slithering to where they would soon be joined.
He stood before her, trying to stay at attention-and failing. He clearly needed more help. ‘Good,’ she thought. ‘He won’t mind.’ She lowered her mouth to where he sat, engulfing a mouthful. Holding his thighs firmly, she slid up his shaft, slowly, drawing her tongue with it. He gasped, grabbing a fistful of hair. She lowered herself again, taking in all she could before sliding back up. His head thrashed on the bed. God, this was good! Allison didn’t know a thing about giving head and he could count on one hand how many times she went down on him.
He felt it bubbling up inside of him. She was going to make him go all the way to the end, wasn’t she? As she swallowed him again, he began to let go.
“Oh, Miranda!”
She stopped.
“Don’t fucking come.”
She slid her skirt off, letting it slide to the floor. Climbing back to her post, she slid him into her.
“Now you can come,” she said, bearing down.
His hands reached for her breasts, kneading them between his fingers and for the first time in two year, he actually enjoyed sleeping with someone. She worked her magic on him, pushing him deeper within her. This was the end, he was over. Feeling himself let go, he shot into her, moaning her name.
He woke up a few hours later, his face covered with strands of red. He looked at the clock by his bedside: two-forty. He slid out of bed and stumbled through the dark to find her bathroom. Had to be quick about it, he knew what he was in for tomorrow.
~end of part one~
xposted to
the_flowergirl
Theme: #1 Anonymity or "Taken By the Faceless Stranger" and #3 The Sexuality of Terror, or "Help, I'm Out of Control, Thank God!"
Title: Dirty Little Secret
Author/Artist:
the_flowergirl
Disclaimer: I can proudly say I own them. If you want to borrow them, you may, but you must ask my permission or I'll be very angry.
Dirty Little Secret
Challenge 1 and Challenge 3
She skipped around the dining room, setting places. Kyle was coming over! She laughed at herself as she set the silverware. She felt like a teenager again, singing about love. ‘But it’s not love,’ she had told herself in the car on the way home. ‘He’s no more than Chris.’
Chris had been her longtime fuck-buddy in college. He was the rebound guy. Jake, her longtime boyfriend, and first love, dumped her the week before he left for Boston. No sense in keeping her high school love around anyway, was there; funny thing like sex and love getting in the way of school and degrees. She met Chris in her psychology class. A six foot two gorgeous blond god, sky blue eyes and well-toned frame. She slipped him her number after class one day and fucked him later that night. He called her from his cell and they were supposed to go out for a date, but never made it out of the parking lot. The relationship continued until the end of junior year, when Chris graduated. Her senior year she met Keith, the virgin. Playing into his little game, she told him she was going to wait until the time was right.
The day they graduated, she took his innocence in his parent’s bed. The relationship lasted two years. After that was Paul. After grad school was Mike. He left her that rainy March morning because he found the used pregnancy test in the trash. He didn’t know how he could handle being a father; he was only twenty-four, and Miranda got that new job at the advertising firm? He couldn’t take it and was gone by morning.
Kyle was the sixth; the hot new receptionist that was assigned to her a week after starting her new job. How she fantasized about pushing that tight ass back on the desk and fucking him until he begged her to stop. He was supposed to be the rebound guy. A passing lay to get the bad out of her, but somehow, she just couldn’t let him go. She invited him to dinner. No harm in that. Besides, her living floor was a hundred times softer than the closet door.
The doorbell rang as she was stirring the sauce. It was energy food, alfredo with shrimp and breadsticks and veggies. She planned ahead! Putting a lid on the sauce, she wiped her hands on the rag by the stove.
“Come in!” she yelled, straightening herself.
She heard the door click shut. He removed his shoes, and ran to the kitchen as she turned to greet him. Slipping the blindfold over her eyes, he pushed her hips against the counter.
“You won’t move, if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered in her ear.
“Kyle?” she asked as he covered her mouth.
:”I can’t tell you who this is, but I’ll allow you to scream it if it’s good enough.”
Pressing up against her hips, he unbuttoned her blouse. She was wearing no bra and his hands brushed against her bare breasts. Unbuttoning it far enough to his liking, he made his way back up, playing with her nipples. Sensations already taking hold, she turned her head to expose her neck. Placing his lips on her neck, he blazed a trail while gently pulling her nipples.
“Ohhh,” she moaned as her hands used the countertop and sink for hand holds.
Abandoning one breast, Kyle moved his hand to her waistline, creeping under her skirt, her found her panties and removed them; the same pink lace ones from earlier. Sliding them to the floor, he slid one finger inside her. She hitched in her breath as he brought it back out. Covered with ample lubrication, he slid his finger over her clit, pushing in on it from behind her. Her head jerked up and she almost lost the blindfold. Moving his hands, he straightened it.
“Now now, look what you’ve done. I suppose I’m going to have to punish you more, aren’t I?”
He unzipped his fly. Already aroused, he spilled out, ready to be received. Angling himself slightly, he slid into her, trapping her against the counter.
He moved inside her, going deeper and pushing harder each time. Her hands held the counter in a death grip as he fucked her, hard and grunting. She came once, screaming his name. She came again, breasts spilling over the counter. He pounded into her hard enough that she was sure she was going to have bruises in the morning. The water boiled over, spilling out noodles. He came, crying her mangled name as she begged him to stop.
Pressed against the counter they cooled, panting as her alfredo burned. He removed her blindfold and pulled himself out of her.
“Your dinner’s ruined,” he said, catching his breath.
“We’ll just order out, I guess,” Miranda said, fixing herself.
They never quite got around to ordering food. Twenty minutes later, she took him on the coffee table, papers flying as she pushed them aside and stripped him of his clothes. The sex in the closet and his surprise greeting still wasn’t enough. The yearning was too great. Five months without a man can play tricks on a person; make her do things she wouldn’t normally do, like an afternoon romp in the storage closet or not smacking the guy who took her from behind, playing up on the assault role play. It can also make her yell the out the wrong name!
Her hands clenched his shoulders, breath ragged. Her red hair, which she had fixed before he arrived had come lose, and hung in her eyes; like little strands of fire blinding her. She was going to come, she knew it, just a few second longer and: “Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh God! Oh God! Oh! Jake! Oh!”
She was jarred out of her orgasm by the look of shock on Kyle’s face.
“Oh my God!” she gasped, embarrassed.
“Fuck.” she muttered, sliding off him.
~*~
“So how many partners have you had?” Kyle asked Miranda over take-out Chinese food twenty-five minutes later.
“Why?” she asked, gulping the rest of her Coke down.
“Well, aside from the obvious; you’re too good to have only had one.”
“Oh come on,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chest. “You can’t think you were my first.”
His look of hopefulness gave her all the answers she needed.
“Jake Roberts was my first. We met in high school at a hockey game. I was there with a bunch of friends; he was there with his family. I think his sister was dating the goalie or something. We dated all through our junior and senior year. He promised me he’d make us closer for my birthday. His parents were out of town and we had the house to ourselves. His birthday present was a gift-wrapped penis and a card. Well, no, not really, but that seems like the only thing I can remember…I think he made me a cake and dinner, with candles and everything. But the first time was so bad, I made him pull out and try it again. Five more times we tried. He came, but that wasn’t hard to do. Saturday night he got it right. God, I loved him though I loved everything about him too, from that piece of hair he just couldn’t keep down to the way he looked at me after class that would make me melt and just want to take him in the parking lot. Out of all the men I’ve been with, I don’t think I’ve had a connection with any of them like I did with Jake. Except for maybe Mike. I thought for sure I’d marry him.”
‘No, that’s not right!’ she screamed at herself. This wasn’t how she usually did things with the men she slept with. But what was the harm in swapping sex stories anyway? She continued.
“Chris Owens was my second. Jake dumped me before he left for school and I couldn’t get over him and worked out my frustration with him. We dated casually until he graduated. He taught me most of everything I know. Then I met Keith Murray. I tried the dating game; he said he was saving himself for the right one. After we slept together he got really boring. Paul Davenport was my man I called if I was down. We casually dated until Mike Hanson came around last year. I thought for sure he’d marry me-in fact, the day after he left me, I find the ring in his underwear drawer.”
“I’m sorry,” Kyle said. “I can try to make it better.”
He paused, waiting for the right words to come.
“My first was when I was nineteen. She was twenty-five and more experienced. I met her at a party my friends dragged me to. I thought it was love and twenty minutes and a dark room later, it was done. I called her the next week. You know, I never knew. I’ve dated off and on a few times, but nothing to really merit it as counting toward anything. It’s been a very boring sex life for me.”
“I’d be willing to make it more interesting,” she said, turning to face him.
“Really?” he asked, looking into her blue eyes.
“Yes, but I’d prefer to do it in my bed.”
Throwing the blanket off, she ran to the stairs. Kyle pinned her to the wall before she could open the door. His hand caressed her breasts through her open shirt. Opening the door, she pushed him to the bed, making short work of what remained. Her shirt joined his pants. Straddling him, she ran her hands down his slender frame. She never realized how toned he was-the company weight room treated him well, Very well, she noted. Sliding her hands between his thighs, she massaged his balls slowly, lowering her mouth to his. She kissed him deeply and worked her way down, slithering to where they would soon be joined.
He stood before her, trying to stay at attention-and failing. He clearly needed more help. ‘Good,’ she thought. ‘He won’t mind.’ She lowered her mouth to where he sat, engulfing a mouthful. Holding his thighs firmly, she slid up his shaft, slowly, drawing her tongue with it. He gasped, grabbing a fistful of hair. She lowered herself again, taking in all she could before sliding back up. His head thrashed on the bed. God, this was good! Allison didn’t know a thing about giving head and he could count on one hand how many times she went down on him.
He felt it bubbling up inside of him. She was going to make him go all the way to the end, wasn’t she? As she swallowed him again, he began to let go.
“Oh, Miranda!”
She stopped.
“Don’t fucking come.”
She slid her skirt off, letting it slide to the floor. Climbing back to her post, she slid him into her.
“Now you can come,” she said, bearing down.
His hands reached for her breasts, kneading them between his fingers and for the first time in two year, he actually enjoyed sleeping with someone. She worked her magic on him, pushing him deeper within her. This was the end, he was over. Feeling himself let go, he shot into her, moaning her name.
He woke up a few hours later, his face covered with strands of red. He looked at the clock by his bedside: two-forty. He slid out of bed and stumbled through the dark to find her bathroom. Had to be quick about it, he knew what he was in for tomorrow.
~end of part one~
xposted to
the_flowergirl