Kink Bingo_Wildcard [Anonymity] Part 2
Title: Silver and Gold
Chapter: 2/2 [Oneshot]
Pairing: Tora x OFC (lol…I'm going to fanfic hell for this)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP
Warnings: male x female, explicit oral sex, intercourse, foul language, adult themes
Summary: Tora is looking for something to relieve his restlessness while on tour, so he goes on a bit of a solitary nightly adventure that ends up being far more amusing than what he had anticipated.
Comments: This is part 2, where all the porny fun is haha...
***
Its two in the morning and they are walking through deserted streets, humid summer heat making their skin stick.
He's following her really, since he has no clue where the fuck they are going. They're both a little tipsy.
She's tall. Five eleven sounded tall considering he's six feet himself, but he only realized how much when they both stood up to leave and he noticed that she had a good inch on him with her heels. If anything it turned him on even more. He's always had a thing for long legs, and tall girls, and boys, have a way of making his brain fall straight in the gutter, maybe because its so rare here, to find a girl who can look you in the eye without tilting her head up. He also noticed that her dress is tight, fits well on her toned body, hugging curves and muscle perfectly. She's slender and athletic, curved in all the right places, and he can't wait to see her out of that little black dress and feel those endless thighs wrapped around his waist. Its easy to slide his arm around her lower back, hips, and she giggles somewhat girlishly when he pulls her close, sides touching as they walk. Her hand slides up his back, cups the back of his neck, thumb pressing little circles in the roots of his hair.
"I haven't done this in a while."
"Done what?"
She laughs.
"This. Picking up a stranger in a bar to then bring him back to my place. Its been years."
He gives her hip a gentle squeeze. They are strangers in the night, brought together by a mixture of boredom and sleeplessness, but somehow this whole thing still feels meaningful. Like it was supposed to happen. And its so fucking exciting, that uncertainty, the fact that they hardly even know each other at all a goad to his desire.
"Its been a while for me too. Actually its been a while since I even slept with a girl."
"You sleep with boys usually?"
"Well, yeah I guess. I sleep with my bandmates, its easier, safer, for all of us. Were like a dysfunctional, incestuous family." he jokes, shaking his head in a self-deprecating manner.
It does sound a little strange, doesn't it?
"Should I be flattered then?"
"I don't know if you should be flattered, I'm not that famous. But I definitely don't make a habit of meeting gorgeous foreign women in seedy bars and proceed to do everything I can to get them to have sex with me so I guess you're pretty special…"
She scoffs, tightens her grip on his nape.
"Its not like a sexy guy like you has that much work to do to seduce anyone."
He scowls, remembering every painful rejection from girls that thought he was too strange, too awkward, looked too foreign, had a less than proper career choice. There's quite a few occurrences of that.
"You'd be surprised…"
They come to a halt in front of a high-rise building.
"Were here. You're sure you wanna come up?" she asks, hesitant for a few seconds, because it could have been bluffing this entire time, just a game between them.
But it wasn't. He wants her. He wants her very much.
"Yes."
She grins, takes his hand in hers and pulls him up the short flight of stairs. The lobby is quiet, the elevator bell awfully loud in the heavy silence. He shuffles in after her, watches her press the button for the 17th floor, and then back up against the panelled wall. He frames her narrow shoulders with his hands on the wood panel, moves in close, close enough for him to catch the heady, sultry heart notes of her perfume, wrapping himself in a cloud of it when he leans down to trace the curve of her neck with his lips. She tilts her head to the side, sighing, hands bunching in the soft cotton of his tee where it lays over his hips. Her skin is sweat-salty underneath his tongue, the hammering of her quickened pulse echoing against his lips. His teeth close softly on that smooth skin underneath the side of her jaw, and she arches against him with a muffled moan, pushing off the wall right into his arms.
They reach the 17th floor too fast yet too slow, the doors sliding open with a hiss. She guides him to door 176, finds her keys in her small purse and pries the door open, flicking the light switch as she enters. He follows her into the genkan, shuts the door behind himself, and then her breath is on the side of his face and he turns, taking half a step back, and their lips touch.
Its tentative for half a second, but then he's pushing, pushing her against the nearest wall as his mouth devours hers, swallowing her whimpers. Her lips part easily for his curious tongue, mouth tasting like smoke and the earthiness of whiskey, her own tongue sliding against his. His hands slide up her narrow waist, cup her ribcage, thumbs tracing the lower curve of her breasts and she moans against his mouth, arching into him when his lips slide down her chin to her throat, heat pools and pools in his lower belly, coiling tight. He bites down on her throat, hard enough to bruise and she gasps, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the back of his tee, knees trembling.
He clumsily slides off his shoes, his hands sliding down her hips, thighs, lifting the hem of her dress as he slowly drops to his knees in front of her, mouthing the downward slope of her lower belly though her dress, lifting and lifting the fabric until his fingers touch a lace edge. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of her underwear, slowly dragging it down her thighs, her fingers clenching on his shoulders. She steps out of her panties with a smirk, her gaze just as eager as his own when he smooths up the dress again, up her thighs and hips until she's revealed to him in her naked glory.
He can't help but let out a little gasp when he catches sight of the pale pink flesh at the junction of her thighs, surprised yet utterly pleased to see that she's completely bare, running his fingers down the triangle of smooth skin.
"That is a really american thing, waxing everything off."
"You don't like it? I know some guys here get weirded out by it."
He smirks, coaxing her right knee over his shoulder, steadying her with hands on her hips, heat flaring in his stomach all the way down to his cock when the gesture parts her, giving him a real look at the delicate folds, the tiny button of flesh that he knows is key to her pleasure. Such a pretty flower. He wants to suck on that delicate bud until she begs him for release in every language she knows.
"Hmm…I'm one of those who appreciates it actually. Especially when I do this…" he purrs, before pressing his mouth to her flesh in a heated kiss that makes her throw back her head and sigh in delight.
She gasps as he traces her sensitive folds with his tongue, slow and lavishing, lapping at her musky essence. She tastes sweet, earthy and sweat-salty and her skin is so hot against his mouth, trembling with pleasure as she moans and pants in heaving breaths. Her hips arch forward, the thigh draped on his shoulder urging him closer, pointy heel digging in his back when his tongue dips inside her warmth, tasting, licking, her hands clenched on the wall, desperately trying to stay upright, to keep her knees from buckling. His hands dig in, fingers clenching on her hips, steadying her as she arches off the wall when he devours her, revelling in her taste, scent, her fingers finding his hair and tugging, tugging soft and then hard when he hums with pleasure against her. She groans his name helplessly when he encloses the small bud in the heat of his mouth, sucking deep, teasing flicks of his tongue that make her keen and beg and fall apart under his attentions, muscles in her stomach clenching and spasming.
Her moans are music to his ears, the hand tightening in his hair sweet torture. Its been a long time since he's done this, worshipping a girl's body so intimately and he'd forgotten how good it felt to have that kind of control, to feel skin pulsing and trembling underneath his tongue, clenching around it. He can feel the heavy weight of his own arousal pushing at his clothing, tense and hot and aching for a touch, but right now its all about her, her pleasure, so he bides his time, enjoying every second of this heady pursuit. He wants to hear her call his name.
He circles the sensitive bud with his tongue, moans against her when he feels her orgasm right against his mouth, rushing heat flushing her skin pale pink, her thighs trembling with the strain. He lavishes her until she's breathless, sucking until he doesn't know when her flesh ends and his begins, all wet heat and delicious tremors. She's so beautiful in her ecstasy, he wants to make her come undone like this all night long.
"Oh…Tora…" she pants, voice husky and breathless, chest heaving as he lowers her thigh, and she lets herself slide down the wall, fall into his lap, "Fuck…"
Their mouths meet again, she licks at his lips while his hands are roaming her back, slide down the length of her legs to find the clasps of her sandals. He manages to get her out of the delicate shoes, coaxes her thighs around his waist as he stands, her wet heat pressing against his belly. He can feel it seeping through the fabric of his tee, blazing hot and slick. She's surprisingly light for such a tall woman, and she clings to him, her arms around his neck, still trembling with aftershocks of her orgasm.
"Where is your bedroom?" he whispers in her ear, holding her tight against him, her mouth on his neck.
"Last door to the right."
He walks through a small kitchen, and then down a hall, not really paying attention to the rooms he's passing by because he has a goal in mind. A goal that involves them both naked and entangled on a bed in a mutual chase for ecstasy. He reaches the last door to the right, open already. The bedroom is large, with cream walls and pale wood furniture, thick carpeting that swallows his toes in softness. There is a large, huge really, western-style bed with a champagne comforter and pillows. He lets her slide from his grasp as their mouths tangle, her hands prying, sliding underneath the hem of his tee, long, agile fingers sliding up his smooth stomach, dragging the tee along. They part long enough for her to manoeuvre the garment off his chest and over his head, tossing it to the floor carelessly as they seek each other's lips again, his hands sliding up her spine to find the tab of the zipper closure of her dress. He turns her around when he finds it, pulling down, the fabric parting with a muted sigh as it reveals a creamy gold back, the sinuous line of her spine, the two dimples at the base of it like punctuation marks.
He slides his hand in the opening, tracing the uninterrupted line with a low chuckle.
"No bra? That's not very lady-like." he teases, pushing the fabric down her shoulders, leaning down to kiss the newly exposed, freckled skin.
She snorts, reaching back with one hand to slip the elastic off her hair, freeing it from the tight ponytail. It falls down her back in a coppery cascade, silky smooth, and he pauses to run his fingers through it, gather it over her shoulder as he keeps pulling at the dress.
"I told you I was a tomboy. I don't have enough breasts to bother with itchy, uncomfortable support garments in this muggy weather, besides, its hardly lady-like to invite a charming young man back home for sex in the middle of the night." she quips back, teasingly, leaning back against him as he drags the fabric down her arms, freeing them.
"Did I say it was a bad thing?" he purrs against her neck, hands sliding up her toned arms, reaching across her chest to cup her breasts.
They are small, but firm, they fit in his palms perfectly, soft nipples tracing a hot flush against his skin. And then he notices the full length mirror to his left, looks at their tall, elegant bodies fitting together perfectly, his pale hands on her golden skin. They are opposites, he's pale and dark where she's gold and brass, but its a good match nonetheless, an interesting contrast, and he feels oddly satisfied that their joining will look as beautiful as it will be pleasurable. She pushes the dress the rest of the way down her hips while his hands are busy caressing her, teasing her dusky-pink nipples to hard buds, and it slithers down her legs to pool at their feet. She turns in his grasp, her glorious hair falling across her eyes, and it strangely makes her look her age more, sexier, mysterious, a little wild. She kisses him, slow and hard, teeth pulling at his lower lip as she backs up towards the bed, dragging him along, his hands on the swell of her bare hips.
She sits on the edge of the bed, hands raking down his chest, down the taut hills and valleys of his buff stomach, fingers tugging at the buckle of his belt.
"You're still a little too dressed to my taste…" she teases, prying the buckle open, tugging out the leather, and then the button and zipper of his jeans, pushing down until he's naked too, letting his cock leap free of the constraining fabric of his briefs.
Her pupils widen at the sight, her mouth quirking up at the corners, clearly pleased. He's not especially vain, but he knows from experience that he's rather well endowed, and the fact that she's not afraid of his girth, unlike some other girls, is quite exciting, even more so when she leans forward and without warning wraps her mouth around him, sucking at the glistening wetness leaking from the slit. He groans with pleasure, burying his fingers in her luscious hair as she sucks him deeper in her hot mouth, deeper, until most of him is down her throat and he's breathless. She pulls and pushes, back and forth a few times before pulling off him with a throaty chuckle.
"I have to say, and I don't say that kind of stuff often, you have a really nice cock…" she purrs, pushing herself up on the bed, inching back until she lay back against the mound of pillows stacked against the headboard, reaching in the side table's drawer, pulling out a foil packet.
He smirks, giving his erection a few saliva-slick strokes if only for the sake of showing off before following her on the bed on his knees, crawling between her parted thighs.
"You just wait until I ram it inside you…" he replies, snatching the packet from her fingers, making quick work of the wrapper and the thin protective latex.
"I hope those aren't empty threats…" she starts, giggling when he grabs the underside of her knees and pulls her down the pillows, closer.
"I don't make promises I can't keep." he replies with a grin, reaching down between their bodies to guide himself between her thighs, finding her moist and ready for him.
She yields to the smooth push of his hips, arching her back just so, opening herself to him and he slides into tight heat, sinks into her deep in a long, aching surge that has them both gasping. So deep. Her body swallows him completely and he has to pause and take a deep breath not to just let go and pound into her, since its all he wants to do right now. But he waits, until both their breaths have slowed, hers hot and steady against his neck, coaxing her long thighs around his waist before letting his hips push forward in a smooth sway that makes her gasp and surge up against him.
She's fire underneath him, living flame in his arms as his hips flex and shift between her thighs, her arms tight around his waist, blunt nails digging in the small of his back as she guides their rhythm. Slick and slow and steady, mouths meeting for breathless kisses that leave him aching for more, more tongue, more teeth, more of her hot breath mingling with his as he loses himself inside her.
Hot. Deep. Deep enough to feel her wild heart-beat from her insides all around him, a pulsing, hypnotizing throbbing against his oversensitive flesh. Her eyes flutter shut as he straightens up, tilting her back as he lifts her hips clean off the bed, holding her up and open for his quickening thrusts, her body surging and moving against his. He hooks her knees over his forearms and leans down over her, drives into her hard, and fast, and she's moaning and panting, hands scrabbling at the pale sheets underneath her. She's gorgeous like that, helpless underneath him, the golden glory of her skin, her hair spilled on the mattress like a copper halo, mouth open as she sucks in breath after breath. Her lips are kiss-swollen, full and lush, her eyes like pale fire through the lattice of her fluttery lashes, and she's begging him for more with her entire body pushing back against his.
He can feel the pleasure spiralling up and up with each thrust, each roll of hips, and too soon he feels her clamping down on him with a desperate groan, her orgasm gathering, slick heat pooling around him.
"Not yet…not yet…"
"Oh…Tora please…"
"Hold it, just a little more…" he gasps, freeing her legs, letting the length of his body cover hers, bracing his left hand on her chest, the other tangling in her glorious hair, "Wait for me…I'm so close…"
Her arms snake around his shoulders and neck as his hands roam down her her sides, down to grasp her hips, splaying on the small of her back to push her up against him, the friction between their bodies close to unbearable. He buries his face in her neck, biting down that soft skin underneath her jaw as she trembles and surges against him, and he lets go of all control, heat bursting in his lower belly as she comes underneath him.
His orgasm is like a fiery tide, shattering his reality in a million shards of complete pleasure as he pulses deep inside her, her back arching, hips raised to welcome his last erratic thrusts as her own release consumes her completely. His hips stutter with finality before they both collapse against each other in the sheets, breathless, looking at each other with glazed, sated eyes. His lips find hers as he rolls them both to their sides, lower bodies still joined and pulsing, throbbing with the aftermath of their orgasm, limbs closely entangled.
Silver and gold.
***
She fits perfectly against him.
Its odd that they've only known each other for a few hours yet find themselves such a good match. They've shared drinks and banter, kisses, breaths, sex, orgasms, sleep, and just now sex again. Lazy morning sex, slow kisses and slower caresses, her hips rising and falling as she rode him to orgasm, her glorious hair and skin like burnished gold in the white light. She looked so good above him, her head tilting back when his fingers found hard nipples, the tight bud between her thighs, her deep sigh of contentment as they both came. Glorious.
Their mingled sweat is cooling on warm skin, yet they still are strangers to each other. That's the beauty of it really. Uncomplicated pleasure, the excitement of the unknown, the uncertainty. He feels more at ease than he has for a long time, sighing contentedly when her mouth lands on the soft skin underneath his ear.
She's sprawled half on the bed, half on top of him, her thigh across his hips, her arm draped over his chest, breasts pressed against his side. Her head of luscious copper hair fits perfectly in the crook of his shoulder, and he could stay like this forever, with her warm mouth on his neck, tracing his jaw. But duty calls, literally. He's heard his phone beep a few times already, down there somewhere in his jeans pocket but the very last thing he wants to do right now is get up.
"I think someone is texting me…" he groans, squeezing his eyes shut to try to ignore it.
"You should check your phone then. Who knows, it might be important?"
"Probably just my dearest vocalist being worried." he replies with a sigh, slowly untangling their limbs anyway, unfolding from the bed with a jaw unhinging yawn.
He stretches his arms above his head, heedless of his nakedness, and starts looking for his jeans, finding them bunched up at the foot of the bed, extricating his phone from the pocket. True enough, there's a slew of text messages in Shou's trademark prissy passive-aggressive tone, ranging to "where the fuck are you?" to "I will have your balls if you're not there for transport at 2!!". Classic Shou. He texts back a quick response to reassure him, drops the phone back on the pile of his clothes and gives his back another stretch before turning to the bed again.
"Everything alright?" she asks, sprawled on her stomach on the bed, the enticing curves of her rear and thighs on display.
"Absolutely, I even have a few more hours to kill…" he replies, crawling back on the bed, leaning down to kiss the back of her thighs, delighting in the sharp hiss she let out in response, her legs spreading further, "Do you mind if I spend them with you?"
She chortles then, turns around on her back, drags him up until he's settled between her thighs, her hair wild, eyes glowing.
"If I can't walk after all this you better carry me to the shower."
He chuckles, presses his erect cock against her belly with a little roll of his hips, making them both groan.
"If you can walk after this, then I clearly haven't done my job right…"
***
Shou comes in the studio carrying a heavy box. The weekly fanmail.
They have been working at the new album restlessly, and the distraction is very welcome after a gruelling morning of trying to lay down phrases that simply do not want to co-operate.
Its a little ritual amongst them, on friday mornings the mail comes in and they sit down for an hour or two, opening envelopes together, comparing letters and sometimes trying to decipher unknown languages much to their amusement. Its often the highlight of the week, always very satisfying to know that they are loved and appreciated by people all across the globe. Shou starts distributing the envelopes on the table in neat little piles, all five of them gathered around the table with their stacks.
"Oh, looks like Tora has a package for him…" Shou remarks, pulling out a medium sized shipping box from the bottom of the bigger box, "I wonder what it is?"
Tora reaches for the box Shou is handing him, puzzled. Its a reasonably sized box, the kind they shipped dvd's in, with a few stamps and postage markings on it, a return address neatly printed but no name, nothing special.
"Maybe its a fangirl's used underwear." Saga teases, half joking, half hopeful for something sordid to come out of the box.
Tora makes a face, starts prying at the tape on one side, and then stops, thinking that maybe he should open this one in private.
"You'd like that wouldn't you?"
Saga snorts, prying one of his own letters open.
"I'd much rather an amateur sex-tape."
"Saga!"
"What? Once a pervert always a pervert, you know me…although I'm pretty sure Nao would appreciate some used underwear from a cute pig-tailed cosplayer."
From the murderous glance Nao threw his way, the drummer was clearly not amused, especially when the other four started laughing, the box forgotten.
Later, he sits on the couch at home and takes the box out of his bag. He manages to unwrap one side, finally prying the box open, tipping the contents in his lap. Its a book. A medium sized, hardcover book with a black and grey photograph of a geisha's back, the intricate hair and obi, the white lattice on the nape of her neck, a calligraphed title: Karyukai, the flower and willow world, a fancy term for the elegant world of the geisha. His eyes catch on the name of the author, and he smirks.
Clara Reid.
He flips the cover open, getting to the dedications page. Its in english, but he knows enough to see his name printed black on white at the bottom.
To Tora, thank you for getting me out of my writer's block so I could finish this one on time, I couldn't have done it without you. Much love.
And then a handwritten note in japanese this time, neat little lines.
Turn to page 217.
He turns to page 217 and then there's another note there at the top.
Read the next five pages.
The next five pages is a love scene, between a noble woman and her young lover, and he finds himself amused and aroused and utterly flattered. Not only because the lover she describes, tall and pale, raven hair and eyes of amber, is a barely veiled portrait of him, but also to see that she has described that scene they had four months ago in the genkan of her apartment. Where he made her orgasm right there against the wall, with mouth and tongue, the two of them nearly fully dressed. The poetry of her words to describe him and his skill, and the description of the character's, her, orgasm as overwhelming and utterly blissful is particularly flattering. He gets to the fifth page and a folded piece of paper falls out.
I really did mean it when I said I couldn't have done it without you my dear. I still remember that night we shared in great detail, the memories still delight me. When you have some time, you'll have to come by so I can thank you properly, we could have a repeat of that fine evening spent together, no? Keep in touch my sweet tiger. Clara
Followed by a neatly printed phone number.
He thought of the somewhat "writer's block" he was currently having himself in the studio and picked up his phone with a smirk.
He was due for a little trip to Osaka.
***
How slutty is my Tora-muse…my my, he really gets around, fucking everything in sight…So, are any of you in the mood to sacrifice me to the vengeful yaoi gods for this horrible sin? XD I'm actually pretty happy with this one to be fair, I don't write het very often but its always loads of fun to write. I'm of a mind that OFC's can be totally interesting and justified in certain situations. Yes I have read my share of Mary-Sues and other terrible OFC's in the past, and yes their reputation is somewhat tarnished to say the least, but I'll all in for a reformation of the OFC as an interesting, well developed character that can actually add a layer of complexity to a story. I know some people think that women have no place in in fanfic, and that's fine and dandy, its their opinion, but I'm tired of the insta-bashing that ALL het stories get. Yeesh, give the ladies a chance lol XD /steps off soapbox. So yeah, that was my two cents. I hope you guys enjoyed this one way or another, and for the ones that didn't, be relieved, I will be back to yummy guy on guy for the next instalment of KB ;) Love y'all xoxo
[ps. For the record, I'm 5'4'', 24, ash blonde, grey eyed, by no means skinny or athletic, and I really suck at volleyball. My OFC is not a cipher for my own deluded fantasies, I'd be way too embarrassed to write them actually XD]