Solitary Con-fuckment

You'd be lying if you said that the rest of the journey to Indigo's place was in any way calm or relaxing—girl was a total sex freak. Even after you'd came, she carried on stroking at your cock, only managing to bring you to half mast during the rest of the journey. That was one part refractory period, one part 'I don't want to risk crashing again' keeping you from getting completely hard the rest of the way. That, and you must've told her to wait about five times.

When you finally pulled in at her direction, she took her hands away from you for long enough that you were able to put your junk back in your underwear and button your jeans up. Heh, what a first day this was turning into. You looked at Indigo with a raised eyebrow, snickering slightly at her pout from your lack of nudity. "At least wait until we're inside?"

"Ugh, controlling myself is for when I'm on the job..." Indigo rolled her eyes as she buttoned up her own shirt, before holding her hand out and waiting for you to pass the keys. "But I guess I can hold off for a little. At least show you inside and get you a drink first. You're mine afterwards, though." She stopped, putting a finger to her bottom lip. "Or rather, I'm yours?"

God, she knew how to turn you on without even trying. You ignored it. It was the only way you were getting all the way to her apartment without doing something publicly indecent. Still, that didn't stop you from beginning to think about all the things you and Indigo could end up doing once you crossed the threshold and entered her homd. You doubted you were going to get much in the way of sleep tonight, not that you really thought you minded.

After all, you still had plenty of sexual frustration to burn off after how the day had went.

No sooner were the two of you out the car than Indigo was locking it and leading you up to the nearest building. It seemed like a fairly nice complex from the outside, nothing too upmarket, but more than pleasant enough for a first or second home. Indigo was only like, twenty-three? Twenty-four? She'd done well to be living somewhere like this already.

"Wanna stop staring and come inside?" came Indigo's voice, and you had to deactivate innuendo interpretation in your brain.

"Y-yeah, sure." You followed the left, right, left, right of her tight, jean-clad ass into the building, watching as she walked right past the elevator and opted to take the stairs. You didn't mind that until you found that her apartment was actually on the seventh floor. You were a little out of breath by the time you were done, but having that perfect cushion in front of you the whole way had definitely helped a fair deal. You didn't want to appear worn out in front of Indigo, so you kept your breaths shallow and quiet. She fished for her keys, pulling them out of a too small pocket and sliding one into the door, twisting.

As soon as you were inside, you were less than surprised to find that the house was in a very clean and well-managed state, much like her car. She took off her shoes, placing them in a stand, then gestured for you to do the same. "No shoe zone," she commanded, making sure you didn't walk past the 'welcome' mat without having slipped them off. "Honestly, I absolutely hate tracking mud in here."

"But cum's fine, I assume?" you laughed, pulling off your shoes and placing them next to hers. Most of them were sneakers, but you spied a pair of Ugg's. Apparently, even Indigo could be a little girly sometimes.

"Cum's a lot easier to clean," Indigo shrugged, walking into the living room and vaulting over the couch, landing with a soft thump. "Or digest," she called back to you with a chuckle. "Sorry, daily routine. I just have to spend a few moments on this couch when I get through the door, it reminds me why going to work is worth it."

You cast an eye over the furniture, but it looked pretty ordinary to you. "What, just so you can relax after?"

"Not just that," she winked. With a press of a button on the side of the chair, she'd flicked up a leg rest, and with another, a mechanical whirring could be heard as the leather couch slowly began to recline. "Ahh," came the satisfied groan of Indigo as she continued to lean back, the chair stopping when she was at optimum viewing angle of the large, noticeably empty wall that made up the centrepiece of her living room. "Best eleven hundred dollars I've ever spent, believe you me. Come try it, we can just relax for a little while."

Honestly, you weren't sure if you were more happy or disappointed that she wasn't trying to climb on top of you straight away. You'd settle with the former. You took the other side of the sofa, looking around and eventually finding the same button. Jesus, this thing was comfy. It was like sitting atop a cloud, you almost felt completely weightless, like you could melt into it at any given moment and forget you were ever anywhere to begin with. "Damn, this is good. eleven hundred was a steal."

"Shh, don't say that so loud!" Indigo panicked, eyes darting around the room as if she was expecting someone to burst through at any moment. "Okay, this might have fallen off the back of a truck, but that doesn't make me a bad person. Stop judging me."

You squinted your eyes at her, hardly believing what you were hearing. "Wait, is this actually stolen?" you half-whispered, finding it incredibly difficult to imagine that a correctional officer was so relaxed about breaking the law.

Indigo maintained eye contact with you for a few seconds, looking incredibly guilty, as if she was about to bolt out of the door or beg you didn't tell anyone.

Then she laughed. "God, you're so easy to mess with, newbie. It came from a police auction. Some drug dealer down south had this in his manor, and when his property was seized, this bad boy was put up for sale. Recommended retail price of over three thousand dollars, I'll have you know." She eyed you with the sagely wisdom of someone who was versed in the art of the deal, whilst all the while, you felt played.

You needed to hit her back with something. "So, let me guess. You spent all of your spare money on this, and couldn't afford a TV afterwards?" You pointed damningly at the blank space on the wall.

"Please. TV's are basic. I've got something much more baller." She pulled back the armrest of her sofa to open a little compartment containing a remote—that was pretty damn snazzy—and gave it a click. You heard a whirring, and before you knew it, a crystal clear projector image was loading up on the screen.

"Well, that's fucking extravagant. Let me guess, stolen too?"

"Huh? Nah, Amazon. Black Friday's the bomb, dude." Indigo and you waited for the projector to boot up, and you couldn't help but wonder how clear the eighty inch border would be against the lighting. "It was a bit expensive, but it's ultra HD, 120hz, all the smart functions..." she paused then, mouth agape, as the projector finished loading.

And the screen was suddenly filled with a very close-up image of an obscenely large black cock being pushed in and out of a teenage girl's asshole while the blunt weapon's owner grunted 'who's your daddy?' over and over.

Indigo rushed to press the pause button as the surround sound screamed in satisfaction; all the while, you fought off the temptation to laugh. "S-sorry. I forgot to turn it off this morning." There was actually a blush on her face. Who could've thought Indigo could get embarrassed about these things?

You couldn't help but titter a little as she tried to backspace away, only to end up in her 'favourites list', which contained more thumbnails of hardcore porn scenes than you imagined you could count. A little number in the top right read '4095'. "Heh, bit of a connoisseur? You weren't kidding about sitting and watching porn with me."

She looked as if she was about to throw the remote at you, her face all scrunched up and snarly. "Yes, I was." A sigh as she backed all the way out of the site, landing at her browser homepage. "Can we just forget about that? Yes, I'm sex obsessed. Yes, it probably borders on addiction, but it's a bit embarrassing when you have it all exposed to someone else like that."

"But it's fine when you flaunt it about like it's the best thing in the world?" you asked, trying to make sense of her.

"Well, yeah! That's how I normalise it. I'm doing it by choice, at least. That just felt..." her thoughts trailed off, hand waving in the air as she looked for the word. "That felt like it was leaving me naked, and not in the good way." She pressed the button on her chair again, and within a second, she was back on her feet. "There is more to me than sex, is what I'm trying to say. It doesn't come across that way when the first thing you see me watching is copious amounts of porn."

"I..." you thought over her words, and supposed you could kind of see where she was coming from. Suppose someone like Indigo was probably used to being objectified, what with how she flaunted herself about. "I understand. I'll forget I ever saw it."

"Alright, sounds good." Indigo took a breath, as if she was trying to steady herself, then flashed a smile. It looked genuine, which relieved you. "I'm going to go and get some snacks and something to drink, you put a film on. I like dramas and sci-fi, no trashy action flicks or sappy romance." With that, she turned and made her way out of the room, your eyes following her until she was out of sight.

You could hardly believe that had been a thing. What had happened to wanting to jump your bones the moment you'd both gotten through the door? She was more than content to blow you on the ride over, and now she just wanted to chill and watch a movie? You were hardly complaining, but it was a little leftfield coming from her, or at least felt so. Nevertheless, you sat there and went through the titles on Netflix, looking for something that the two of you could enjoy together. After a little searching, you found something you'd been meaning to watch.

"Hey, Indigo! You seen the new season of Better Call Saul yet?"

"I haven't even finished Breaking Bad!" she shouted back, dashing your hopes. Indigo reemerged with a bowl full of chips and some sour cream and chive dip, then ran back out and grabbed a bottle of red and two glasses. "Besides," she continued, "I said pick a film, not a series. I'll stay up all night otherwise."

"I'd hardly complain," you smiled, unsure if that was a little too much too soon, but finding she didn't react. "But fine, film it is..." You continued searching until you landed on Scarface, and after a nod from Indigo, you stuck it on. Quality of the projector was essentially brilliant, the remastered picture seeming to be buffed especially by the strength of the image, and for the first twenty minutes or so, the two of you didn't say much, simply snacking on chips and watching in relative silence.

Then, around the twenty-five minute mark, you began to hear a bit of a scrunch on the leather to the side of you, and noticed at a glance that Indigo was moving closer to you. She didn't seem to be doing it unintentionally, either. By the time she was most of the way over, almost touching you, all pretence that it wasn't happening was lost, and she shot you a look. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," you answered with a shake of your head, and all of a sudden, hers was against your shoulder. Tony Montana flirted with the gangster's daughter as you began to feel more of Indigo's weight on you, and before you knew it, you were finding it increasingly difficult to pay any real attention to what was happening on the screen.

Her fingers were tapping over your arm, softly and slowly, almost enough that you wondered if she was aware she was doing it. You didn't know why you felt so reluctant to touch her after what the two of you had already done, but the moment felt more intimate than before. You didn't want to break that if you could help it. You let her continue in her gradually building actions, curious what she'd do next, and with a shift, felt her bring herself up so her head was pressing against yours.

"Sorry, just trying to get comfortable."

Probably a lie, but you didn't argue with her. Indigo continued to work her fingers down your arm until they were rubbing against the back of your hand, a light brushing sensation that you had to stop yourself from giggling at like a teenage girl.

The film scarcely mattered anymore. Al Pacino's iconic acting was going unnoticed by the two of you, a crime that was perpetuated when Indigo decided to get bold, softly kissing at your neck and dragging her teeth over your sensitive flesh.

Yup, that was enough to break your immersion completely. The kisses were mixed in with soft and sensual licks that made you shudder in appreciation, enough that you wanted to turn around and kiss her back, but the moment you made to move, you felt Indigo's hand press against your chest, stilling you. She continued to kiss up your neck until she broke away to reach your chin, and slowly, you turned your head away from the screen, meeting her lips.

The kiss the two of you shared was an incremental thing that fluctuated in rhythm and speed, Indigo leading the whole time. This was different to before, and you knew it. Indigo felt vulnerable and soft, but fiery and passionate all the same, and there was a palpable electricity to the air as she deepened the kiss, introducing her tongue to yours and causing your lids to close by instinct. The flightiness in your chest was slowly growing—were you meant to kiss back harder? Grab her? Run your fingers through her hair?

Before you could settle on an appropriate course of action, she pulled away with a grin. "Hah! Made you taste your cock."

"Holy—you're terrible, you know that?" All at once it dawned on you that this was all a ploy to trick you, she was so devious it hurt.

"I am... but you're not complaining. Keep watching the film, I'm gonna go slip into something a little less comfy and a little more sexy." With that, she hopped up and sauntered off, and you watched her go with a lilting sigh. You were getting her back for that. You didn't know how yet, but you were going to make sure the scores got evened out.

That, or she was going to come back out of that bedroom and rock your world. You tried not to let yourself be defeated just yet, but you could tell the writing was on the wall.