The Hounds Of Love: Chapter 6

At 12:45 on Saturday afternoon, Sören was pacing around, taking deep breaths, his stomach doing flip-flops. He'd packed an overnight bag - including the package of condoms he'd bought over the summer but never got around to using. For what felt like the hundredth time he did a once-over in the bathroom mirror, and again in the antique mirror in his bedroom. Sharon had seen him dressed down so he was in jeans and the KMFDM T-shirt he was wearing when they first met - the one she'd commented on - but he still felt like he ought to have worn something more impressive.

Ten minutes later he heard a vehicle pull up, a honk of the horn. She was early. Sören grabbed his overnight bag and came out to the RV parked out front, with California plates. "Godlike" by KMFDM was audible through a rolled-down window. By force of habit, Sören glanced over at Dooku's house - Dooku's Jaguar wasn't around, which meant Dooku was probably out doing one of his weekend activities like fencing, or at the gym. The thought of Dooku fencing, or getting all sweaty as he worked out got Sören flustered, and he was already worked up with anticipation over seeing Sharon again.

Sören climbed in the front seat and leaned in to give Sharon a fierce, tight hug. "Hey, gorgeous."

Sharon blushed. She showed her dimples when she smiled and the adorable gap in her front teeth. Her tan had faded a bit since leaving California for Oregon, and the light dusting of freckles across her nose and upper cheeks was more visible. Her bright blue eyes were shining, which made Sören smile. Her blonde dreadlocks were pulled into a ponytail and she was wearing a fuzzy magenta sweater and blue jeans - the first time Sören had seen her in something other than summer clothes. Sören's eyes raked the length of her slim body, remembering what she'd looked like in a bikini, and topless. He had half a mind to drag her into the back of the RV when things on his street were quiet, without Dooku around to complain about noise. But he was all tongue-tied again - he needed to work his way up to being ready, for both their sakes.

"Hey gorgeous yourself." Sharon tousled his curls. Then she pulled out of the parking space and got on the road. "How've you been?"

"Pretty good." Sören nodded. "School is good, Mark is good... been pretty happy these days."

Sharon nodded. "I'm glad."

"And you? You said you like Portland, já?"

"It's exactly the sort of change of pace I needed."

"So what are you doing there now? You making rent OK and stuff?"

"If I was living on my own, I wouldn't be able to afford rent out there," Sharon said. "Like maybe possibly if I moved to, like, Tigard or something, but then I'd have a longer commute to work and less to do. I found kind of a desperation ad on Craigslist - Frankie's ex-roommate was fucked up on drugs and stole a bunch of shit from her, so she needed someone to move in right away, and rent is reasonable split two ways. Frankie works third shift at a 7-11, and is attending business school online to try to get a better job someday, and I'm working full-time at the Denny's near the airport."

"Near the airport and Hooters. Not that I've been to Hooters."

"Sure, Sören." Sharon made the "OK hand" gesture.

"No, seriously. I just know it's one of those weird American things but I mean, like, it seems grossly unfair to have a Hooters and not also have a restaurant called Buns or... Roosters... with all-male staff, wearing thongs." Sören grinned. "I'd go there. Hell, I'd probably become the owner of one."

Sharon threw her head back and laughed. "This is why I like you, Sören."

"And here I thought it was because..." Sören unzipped his overnight bag and took out the notebook Sharon had given him before she'd left the Bay Area, a volume of stories she'd written. "I care about the things important to you." He handed her the notebook. "I loved these. I hope you have more for me to read."

"I do. I have a couple milk crates full of notebooks. Not all my stories and poetry are good -"

"Oh, jæja, you write poetry too?"

Sharon nodded. "Not as often as I used to, but I manage a poem once in awhile. I wrote a lot more poetry as a teenager." Sharon cringed. "If I let you see my old teenage writings, you'll laugh and you'll cry."

"We all have to start somewhere. And I mean, it can't be worse than, like, Fifty Shades of Grey or Atlas Shrugged, and those got published."

Sharon giggled. "That's a pretty low bar, Sören." Then she giggled more. "That's also the weirdest juxtaposition ever."

"Now my brain wants a crossover fic. Fifty Shades of... Shrug. 'Who is John Galt?' 'Some dude into kinky fuckery.' You've heard of sadomasochism... now get ready for sadocapitalism. Where the economy fucks you literally."

Sharon howled. She pulled over and gave Sören a kiss. First their lips just brushed, a sweet spark between them, then their lips parted, tongues met and swirled, slow and sensual. Sharon tasted sweet, like she'd been eating pineapple or drinking pineapple juice. "Mmmm," Sören moaned into the kiss, and Sharon gave an "mmmmm" back. Their tongues danced some more, Sharon playing with Sören's curls, Sören's hands sliding from her shoulders down her arms to her waist to her hips and back up; Sören felt her quiver underneath his touch.

"I'm so glad Mark said it was OK for us to..." Sharon looked Sören in the eye and bit her lower lip.

Sören had to. "Hi So Glad Mark Said It Was OK -"

Sharon gave him a swat. Then she got back on the road, and it was time to hit the highway. "Virus" by KMFDM played as the RV turned onto I-5 South.

"I'm glad you like the stories you've read so far," Sharon said.

"I really would like to read more. And your poetry too."

Sharon nodded. "I'll send you home with something."

"You said you were working full-time at Denny's... I hope you're still getting some time to write." Sören gave her a concerned look.

"More or less. I get less writing done than I did in the Bay Area - not just working the hours I do, but having a job that deals with people is draining so I need more time to just veg and fuck off and not have to use my brain for things. But when I do write, I feel more inspired now. Portland is such a weird, quirky city, and it's given me a hotbed of ideas for magical realist fiction - it's the kind of place where, if non-humans were going to hide out among mortals, they totally would."

Oh Sharon, my dear, if only you knew. "I'd love to read that."

Sharon nodded again. "So yeah, on the one hand, not writing as much, on the other hand I have a lot of ideas percolating so when I do write, I'm more satisfied with it."

"You think Marilwen is gonna make an appearance in anything?" Marilwen was one of Sharon's original characters, who featured prominently in her tales - a female paladin, feisty and bawdy, with flaming red hair. Sören had enough of a little crush on the fictional character to paint a picture of her, and gave the painting to Sharon before she left the Bay Area.

"I think I'm pretty much obligated to keep writing Marilwen." Sharon had a cryptic smile as she drove. "You should meet Frankie."

"You said she won't be around tonight?"

"No. We could go to my place sooner, but I'd really like to do some stuff in Portland before we go home."

That was fine with Sören. He wasn't opposed to meeting Frankie but he was shy of strangers and needed a bit more advance planning to work himself up to that. "You got any place in mind?"

"I'm open to suggestions."

Sören thought for a moment, stroking his beard. "It's a lovely fall day, and the Japanese Garden is really nice this time of year. You want to chill in the garden for a bit? You write, maybe, I draw?"

"Oooh, I like that idea a lot."

Creative work also tended to make Sören randy, and it worked in reverse - Sören having a lot of good sex also made him feel more creative. He wasn't too worried about performance anxiety with Sharon, but it had been long enough since he was last with a woman, and he liked Sharon a lot, so he wanted to make sure he was very ready. Spending time creating together in the garden would go a good distance towards that.

Just the garden itself put Sören in an amorous mood, the maples ablaze in red and orange, a lovely contrast against the green of willows and ferns and shrubbery. Sören and Sharon walked through the garden hand in hand, admiring the bridges, the falls, the koi pond, the pagodas and gazebos, the stone lanterns. It was a place of perfect peace, like a place outside of time or a world away from the world, and being there with Sharon made it even more beautiful to him as she took in the delights of the scenery, her face lit up, radiating joy.

Sören and Sharon found a spot to sit at the famed "Tree of Life", a large gnarled maple tree. The hours melted away as Sören sketched and Sharon scrawled. Every now and again one or the other would look up to take in the scenery before refocusing on the work in front of them; every now and again their eyes would meet and they would reach out to touch, or lean on each other. They took a little break to just cuddle, holding each other. Rubbing noses became gentle kisses became deeper kisses, and Sören's hand found its way to Sharon's stomach, her thigh, rubbing in slow, lazy circles. For a moment Sören entertained the idea of tasting Sharon right here, but they had seen a number of other visitors in the garden, so the inevitability of being caught and probably arrested for public indecency kept him in check.

After they'd been back to work for awhile, Sören showed Sharon the sketch he was working on, of Karen. Now he was incorporating bits of the garden scenery, making a little garden by the sea, and had given her a crown of seashells - when he'd eventually color this in, he saw her wearing blue and white in his mind's eye.

"I love that," Sharon said. "I always love your art." She kissed Sören's cheek.

"Takk." Then Sören stroked Sharon's face. "I'd like to sketch or paint you, one of these days."

Sharon beamed. "You're so sweet."

Sören felt a little bolder. "I don't know how you feel about erotic art, but..."

"Your art would actually be art, not... objectification. I'm... I'm flattered you'd want to paint me that way."

"It's not flattery." Sören traced her lips with his thumb. "You turn me on."

Sharon sucked his thumb for a minute - Sören's cock stirred - and then Sharon said, "You make me feel sexy."

"You are."

"I have a hard time, you know... with all of that. I've heard more than once that I'm not the prettiest. Too tall, too boyish, too... whatever." Sharon took her hair out of its ponytail, blonde dreadlocks spilling over her shoulders and down her back. "So I decided if I couldn't be pretty, I would be interesting."

"You're pretty and interesting." Sören came closer and started playing with her locks, breathing in the scent of patchouli. "You don't look like everyone else, but you don't need to. I don't want some perfect plastic doll, I want something real. You're beautiful to me." He placed his fingers on her heart, fighting the urge to touch her breasts. Not here. Not yet. "You have a beautiful soul, and it shines through."

Sharon threw her arms around him and kissed him. Sören's cock twinged again, and stood at attention as he found himself being rolled onto his back in the grass, Sharon laying on top of him, against him, kissing him again and again, heady kisses that left them both breathless.

Finally Sharon's stomach growled, making Sören laugh. Sharon pulled Sören up with her and gave him one last kiss. "We should get something to eat," she said.

"Jæja, I'd like something to eat." Sören couldn't resist.

Sharon blushed, rolling her eyes and laughing. She tweaked his nose. "Incorrigible."

"Takk."

"That's dessert." She rose to her feet and pulled Sören up with her. "Let's go before I get tempted to do stuff here that we shouldn't."

They went back to the RV and discussed food ideas, mutually deciding on Mexican. The restaurant they chose was a bit crowded at dinnertime on a Saturday night but despite his dislike of crowds Sören was relaxed in Sharon's presence, feeling an easy familiarity around her, like he'd known her for a long time even though they'd just met over the summer. And he was distracted from the people around them, immersed in Sharon's description of the latest story she was working on, that she'd added to in the garden. Marilwen had been sent to Portland to find another one of her people, the rightful king of a kingdom that had been lost, who was cleverly disguised as a human. Their enemies were trying to prevent them meeting, and Marilwen had her work cut out for her even without that, struggling to adapt to the ways of the world and expected behavior. Marilwen now had a sidekick, named Nelly. "The Gabrielle to her Xena," Sharon quipped.

Sören grinned. "I can't wait to read it. You have a real knack for making characters come to life. They feel so real, like I know them."

"Yeah, they feel a little too real for comfort sometimes," Sharon said, shoveling a forkful of rice and beans in her mouth.

Sören insisted on paying simply because he made more money than she did. Their check came with the dessert that was brought, a flan topped with strawberries that they were sharing. Sharon put a strawberry in Sören's mouth as she played footsie with him under the table, and Sören felt himself getting aroused again.

Despite both of them being flirty and randy, they still didn't go straight to Sharon's apartment. They took a ride on the streetcar to go over the river, enjoying the view of the waterfront and the bridge lit up in the sunset becoming twilight. From the streetcar stop they walked to Powell's City of Books, the largest bookstore in the United States, multiple stories of wall-to-wall books in every subject imaginable. They mostly browsed, discussing authors they liked, and just before they hit the erotica section, Sharon grabbed Sören's ass and said, "Talk nerdy to me." Sören's response was to push her into the erotica section to steal a deep, hungry kiss as his finger trailed down her spine, making her moan and shiver.

"Klingons," Sören whispered in her ear before he started kissing her neck. "Photosynthesis. Arctic birds. The Renaissance. Anglo-Saxon poetry."

Sharon gigglesnorted. "Ooh, baby." Then she moaned at Sören's kisses on her neck.

Sören kissed the tip of her nose. "If we said all this and we were on the phone, and you followed it by 'what are you wearing', I'd have to say something like 'molecules. Hydrogen and oxygen.'"

"Sören, you are the worst." Sharon kissed him back. "You are such a dork it's unreal."

Sören took a bow, and kissed her again. "I try."

"I like a man with a big..." Sharon winked. "Brain."

They kissed some more, continuing to kiss on their way out of the erotic fiction section. They were kissing and getting handsy enough to get a few dirty looks, so they took that as their cue to exit Powell's. On the streetcar ride back over the river, they made out, not caring anymore if people disapproved of their public affection.

Sören was giddy and rock hard when they got in the RV again. "Now we can go back to my place," Sharon said.

Sharon lived on a fourth floor walkup, and Sören had to use his inhaler by the time they reached the top of the stairs; noticing he was wheezing, Sharon took his overnight bag and carried it after the second flight. Once they were in the door, Sharon continued carrying the bag and now she was also dragging Sören in the direction of her bedroom.

"You're strong," Sören said.

"This is nothing."

Frankie wasn't around. Sharon brought Sören a Sprite, and then she started undressing, with Sören not able to take his eyes off her, thirsty for something other than a drink. When Sören's mouth was less dry and his lungs had calmed down, he also got naked and grabbed the box of condoms from his overnight bed, and Sharon climbed on the queen-sized bed, turning down the purple duvet and lavender sheets. For a few moments they just lay there side by side, holding each other, looking into each other's eyes, petting.

"I can't believe this is finally happening," Sharon whispered.

Sören kissed her. Sharon kissed him back, hard. Sören groaned, his cock jolting at her tongue playing with his, the feel of her body against his.

Sharon grabbed Sören's hand and guided it between her legs, immediately. Sören's breath hitched at how drenched she was. "How can you be this wet already?"

"You." Sharon's blue eyes were like fire.

They kissed, Sören's fingers playing between Sharon's legs, cock throbbing at the way she moaned. When the kiss pulled apart, Sören brought his slick fingers to his mouth to taste her juices, Sharon's blue eyes blazing as she watched him lick and suck his fingers. Now it was Sören's turn to moan at the sweet tanginess, like the pineapple she'd tasted of earlier, with just a hint of musk.

He wanted more, but he wanted to feast on the entirety of her. He gently rolled her onto her back, grinding his hard erection against her thigh as he kissed her mouth some more, tongues teasing. Then he kissed her neck, licked and nibbled, cock continuing to pulse and twinge at her moans and whimpers. His mouth moved to the sweet spot where her neck and shoulder met and then it was on her shoulder.

He kissed her other shoulder, fingers walking over her arms. He liked the little blonde hairs on her arms, and now he found himself lifting her arms. "It is so fucking sexy that you don't shave anywhere," Sören husked, lowering his face to the blonde fuzz in her armpit, breathing in the sexy smell of sweat and pheromones, before rubbing his nose in the hair, then taking a lick, and another. Sharon giggled at his tongue tickling her, and then she moaned as the licking became kisses and nibbles.

As he kissed her armpits, his fingers strayed to her nipples, brushing and rubbing them, and he moaned at the sight of them pebbling. At last his tongue replaced his fingers there, lapping, swirling around the aerole, a nipple between his lips, tugging, suckling hard before taking slow, feather-light licks, then rubbing his tongue hard and fast. Again and again he licked and sucked and slurped, nibbled and licked some more, one then the other, back and forth, over and over, making Sharon whimper and arch to him, panting.

"Oh god Sören..."

"Beautiful." He lovingly nuzzled a nipple before licking it some more. "Your ex was an asshole to not appreciate these." He suckled harder.

"Mmmmmmf. You're a better lover than him, anyway." Sharon shuddered.

"He doesn't deserve your body. He doesn't deserve you." Their eyes met, and a frisson went down Sören's spine at the way Sharon was looking at him, like she wanted to eat him alive.

He wanted to eat her alive. But he was going to take his sweet time getting there, wanting to lavish love on her, spoil her. He made love to her nipples some more, until Sharon was rubbing against him, whining.

He kissed between her breasts, and kissed and licked her stomach. He nibbled on her pierced nevel, licked around it. He kissed and licked one hip, and then licked and sucked and nibbled on her thigh, working on the other before his nose was in her full, curly blonde bush. The scent of her was intoxicating. Sharon spread her legs wide and Sören took his first lick around her clit, not directly on, just to tease. He licked around it and around it, then over the hood, smiling as Sharon writhed, panted, pinching her nipples.

Sören got on his knees on a pillow and leaned over the edge of the bed, pulling Sharon's legs over his shoulders. He parted her folds and began to kiss, slow and sensual. The taste of her made his cock ache, and he rubbed against the mattress as he continued kissing, kissing. He pulled his face up to admire the pretty pink flower framed with golden curls, and licked around her clit some more before suckling one of her lips, then the other. Then his tongue lashed, and Sharon bucked, rolling her hips to fuck his face as he lapped away, pulling on Sören's curls, panting and whimpering.

Her whimpering became broken cries as he kissed her clit some more, went back to tongue-lashing, then more kissing, and at last just sucking on her clit, treating it like it was a tiny cock, making filthy, obscene slurping noises as he sucked on it. Sharon fucked his mouth harder, and Sören let the fingers of his right hand slip into her, finding the G-spot and rubbing as he continued sucking her clit. Kissing and sucking.

Sharon pulled his curls harder and he watched her eyes widen, watched her body tense, felt her tensing, felt her quivering. Sharon panted hard and fast, and a high-pitched, inhuman noise began to rise out of her. Sören kept sucking her clit, fingers rubbing inside her harder and faster, and the high-pitched noise became a roar and at last a shout of "Sören! Sören, oh god, I'm coming -"

He felt her jolt, and laughed with triumph as he watched the contractions, her flower closing and opening, pulsing, gushing its nectar. He lapped up the flowing juices and sucked them from his fingers. "That's one," he said.

He ate her to another orgasm, and another, and another. He ate her and ate her, lapping her clit, kissing it, sucking it, fingers fucking inside her, the sound of her wetness and his slurping competing with her cries and moans. After a few orgasms with her on her back, he needed to get off his knees and climbed on the bed, leaning in to kiss her - grinning into the kiss as she moaned at tasting herself on him - and then he lay on his back and patted his shoulders. "Sit on my face, elskan."

She straddled his shoulders. She was so wet that she was dripping, and before she could lower herself onto his mouth he opened his mouth and put out his tongue, and she just dripped onto his tongue for a minute. He loved that, cock twinging, wanting a release, but he was going to take care of her some more first.

With her sitting on his face he was really able to kiss and suck on her hard, shaking his head back and forth as he devoured her. His fingers fucked away inside her, and Sharon grabbed the headboard and rode his face, whimpering, gasping. She climaxed again and again, and Sören loved her juices gushing over his face, sipping, greedy for her.

Sören lost count of how many orgasms Sharon had by the time she climbed off his shoulders, needing a few minutes to recharge. They kissed, and Sharon licked her juices off his face, his chin, his neck. She reached to play with Sören's cock, which was dripping as well. Her finger hooked through the captive bead ring in the head of his cock.

"So pretty," she said.

"It's not just for looks. Everyone I've fucked with it has raved about it."

"I bet." Sharon shivered. She watched as Sören fished a condom out of the box. "It's almost too bad you have to wear that."

Sören nodded. "You'll still feel it through the condom."

"I'll be going to Planned Parenthood soon to. You know. Get tested, get on birth control, all of that."

"Good. I don't have anything, and we can stop using condoms once you're all set."

"I appreciate that you're being careful."

Sören ripped open the condom packet with his teeth, making Sharon laugh, and then she helped him roll the condom onto his cock. "How do you want it?" she whispered.

"How you want it. I'll get off regardless, so it's about pleasing you."

"God." Sharon kissed him hard. "I want to ride you."

"Yes, please."

With Sören on his back, Sharon straddled him and he guided his cock to her, both of them moaning as he began to push inside. He loved the sight of her lips kissing his cock, the sight of his cock buried inside her to the hilt. And most of all, he loved the sight of her riding him, rocking her hips, her slim body moving like a dancer's, her long blonde dreadlocks swaying with the motions. She looked delicate and graceful yet also wild and fierce at the same time, a strength and power in her as she bounced away on his cock. The feeling of her gripping him again and again and the wet suctioning sound, the slap of their flesh, her cries... Sören was already close, and fought back his release.

He slid his hands over her, played with her locks, teased her nipples, rubbed her clit. With one hand going back and forth between her nipples and the other working her clit, Sharon's cries got louder and soon she was riding him so hard the bed creaked and slammed against the wall. And then her hand gripped Sören's wrist, speeding up his pace on her clit. "Sören," she ground out, "don't stop don't stop don'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstop don't you FUCKING stop -"

Sören growled. "Gonna make you come, elskan."

Sharon's mouth opened but no sound came out, and then she gave a mighty shudder and started to howl. He felt her contract beneath his fingers, and then her insides were squeezing and squeezing and squeezing and her howl became a shriek. Sören cried out as his climax hit, his cock throbbing and throbbing in time with her pulses around him. Sharon gave a last cry before she collapsed into his arms, shaking.

They panted, gasped for breath, and then they kissed deeply. "Wow," Sharon said, her face lit up the same way it had been in the garden, joy that took Sören's breath away. Sharon giggled for no reason, just euphoria. "Holy shit. Holy fucking SHIT, nobody's ever made me come like that."

Sören gave her a sweet little kiss. He laughed too. "The pleasure was mine." His own orgasm - which he was still coming down from - was also deliciously intense.

They kissed some more, and Sharon rested in his arms, petting Sören's curls. "So good," she whispered. "We'll definitely have to do that again."

"We will. Again and again and again." Sören gave her another little kiss.

"I could get used to this." She rubbed noses with him.

"Me too."

chapter 7 | return to Under The Rose | return to index