Trivial Pursuits Ch. 11

"So you see, it's a lie," he said with a great, concluding sigh. She looked away, bristled but reflecting. "So no more," he stated, drawing her attention back to him. "You are not allowed to lie to me, understand? For one, I don't believe it, so it's a waste of time, but secondly, and more importantly, you do believe the lies you tell yourself, and that has to stop."

Too quickly for her liking, her reason agreed with him. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. No lying, though I think you exaggerate," she muttered under her breath.

Denny smiled ruthlessly at her. "Good," he said with an evil gleam in his eyes. "So, let's get to it, shall we?"

She looked at him warily. "Get to what?"

"You need to practice honesty. And do remember, this is part of the contract, undertaking to answer honestly to the best of you knowledge."

Her distrustful expression grew, but she nodded cautiously anyway.

He gave a half smile. "I've nearly made a fool out of myself letting you know how much I'm interested in you. How about you? Do you want me? I mean, are you attracted to me?"

Alessa couldn't look at him, but with pursed lips, she slowly nodded.

"Look at me and tell me," he commanded softly.

She couldn't stop the shiver of nerves in her stomach before she slowly slid her gaze to his. "Yes, I am attracted to you."

"And when I kiss you, you feel it, your body responds?"

She cringed a little, but nodded and answered. "Yes," she breathed.

"And if you weren't afraid of this, you would let me do more than kiss you, right? If we were alone and I kissed you, would you let me touch you?"

She nodded, her anxious quiver growing.

"Would you let me take off your clothes?"

"You can't seriously be asking me these questions," she said incredulously, looking away.

"You agreed to answer any questions. Honestly. Completely."

"I didn't! You switched the contracts!"

"You still signed it," he countered. "At this point, you don't really have the option. Unless you can cough up seventy-five thousand and face the inevitable crash of your career because you bumbled a straightforward contract," he threatened solemnly, watching her struggle to submit to the terms she was now bound by. He knew he was pushing her hard, digging deep and extracting her most private feelings, but he also knew she needed that nudge to take her over the edge and into his arms.

"Now, tell me, would you let me undress you?" his voice was smooth and rich and filling her veins.

Her breathing had increased, but she nodded.

"Would you let me kiss you here?" he murmured, lifting his hand to trail a finger down the middle of her chest, sliding between her breasts. He could feel her fine tremble. Again she nodded, her eyes closing to separate herself from reality.

"What about here?" he questioned, his finger sliding all the way down her torso until it paused right above her mound.

Alessa snapped her legs together, her eyes opening once more. "Denny, I don't-"

But he wouldn't allow her to deny him. "Answer the question, Alessa. Would you let me lick and kiss and tongue your sweet, little pussy?" he questioned vulgarly.

She moaned, her face scrunched in unbearable discomfort. "Denny," she tried to avoid again, but his eyebrow arched in warning.

"Answer." But when she could only barely nod, he commanded, "Say it. Tell me exactly what you would want me to do."

A gust of breath rushed out from her as she felt deflated and melting all at once. "Yes, Denny, I would want you to-" but she had never said those words, despite all the many stories she had written, she had never actually spoken them out loud, and didn't think she could start in his presence. "I want you to kiss me there."

"Where?" he prodded.

She glowered at him, her internal state hardening from the new and inescapable desire blooming. "I don't want to say it," she ground out.

"Say it. Or I'll consider it you reneging on your contract. Answer me honestly? Do you want me to eat you out?"

She couldn't seem to stop shaking. "Yes, okay? I want you to put your mouth on my pussy." Her face was an instant flame and she felt nauseous. She turned her body from him, effectively moving away from his reach and was able to look elsewhere.

Denny leaned in, his arm now resting behind her and his mouth positioned next to her ear. "And after I made you come in my mouth, would you let me put my cock inside of you? Would you want me to stretch you out as far as you could go and move in and out until you came around me, milking me until I came deep inside of you?"

Alessa jumped up from the couch and propelled away from him as though she had been scorched. "Denny, I don't want-"

"To talk about this, I know," he mocked. "But that's too bad for you, because this is what I am talking about, and unless you want to default on the contract, we are going to continue this conversation until...I'm satisfied," he declared, smiling villainously.

Alessa was on the other side of a chair, using it to shield her virtue from him.

"Tell me, if I put my hands down your panties right now, would I find them soaked?"

Her stomach swirled and she glowered at the increasing crudeness of his discussion. "I don't know," she bit out.

Denny frowned thoughtfully. "Really? Should I check, then?"

"No!" she nearly shouted.

He only chuckled. "Then how about telling me the truth. Did I make you wet? Did you get turned on just by listening to me describe what you would let me do to you?"

She swallowed, and begrudgingly admitted, "Yes, it turned me on."

"It made you wet?" he prompted.

"Yes," she answered honestly through clenched teeth.

Denny narrowed his eyes at her, new thoughts, dangerously sinful thoughts suddenly occurring to him. "Tell me, do you masturbate?"

"Do you?" she returned in a huff, not really wanting to know the answer, but tired of being stripped bare.

He laughed and said, "Of course. Especially lately." She frowned in confusion. "You see, the woman I'm interested in hasn't let me fuck her delirious yet, so I haven't had sex in months, leaving me to...care for myself," he finished with a smile.

Of course he had been talking about her, and she now felt silly for not catching on sooner. She lowered her eyes, her cheeks lighting up. "Alessa, come sit back down. Sweetheart, I'm not going to attack you," he suggested lightly, a playful smile on his lips.

She was still weary of him, and of herself, not liking the intimacy of the conversation or his proximity, but she knew she couldn't stand there all night and so slowly made her way back, choosing at the last minute to sit back in the large chair opposite him. She felt vulnerable, and so grabbed one of the large pillows and squeezed it to her chest.

"Comfy? Now, tell me, do you masturbate?"

She swallowed and reluctantly nodded.

"How frequently?"

"Once, maybe twice a week. Maybe more," she answered, not really knowing herself.

Denny nodded, accepting her answer. "And do you orgasm every time?"

"Yes."

"And how do you do it?" She looked up at him and quirked her head. "Do you use any toys or just your hands? Do you do it in any sort of position? What do you think about?" Denny was enjoying the conversation, but wished she was sitting on his lap kissing him as he performed the interrogation.

Alessa tried to make her answers as clinical as possible, hoping it somehow separated her emotionally from what she was disclosing. "I have a vibrator, like a back massager. It has a heating option. Usually I lay on my stomach with a pillow under me with it pressed against me, but sometimes I lay on my back." She stopped her answering.

"So only clitoral stimulation?" She nodded. "So no penetration?"

"No," she said softly.

"And what do you think about?" he prodded.

"Denny, I really don't want to talk about this." Her face was very red, and her eyes were cast down. He thought he saw them water.

"You can do it, tell me," he pressed, not quite certain why he was making her share when it was clearly so stressful to her.

It was a few moments before she was able to speak, and when she did, her voice was low and soft and full of shame. "Someone usually rescues me from someone attacking me. And I'm so scared and so grateful, that I confess how I feel about him, that I've always loved him and wanted him."

Denny furrowed his brow. Her confession didn't seem so bad. He wondered why she should be embarrassed about her vanilla answer. And then a thought occurred to him.

"And who is the guy who saves you? And who does he save you from?"

She was trembling again, the tears were definitely back as she looked up at him pleading silently to not answer.

"Alessa, come here. Sweetheart, come here," he coaxed gently. "It's okay, I'm not going to attack you." Reluctantly, she stood and sat next to him on the couch, her back stiff and her hands fists in her lap. But he didn't allow her to stay so distant, and in a bold move he reached for her and lifted her up, placing her so she straddled his lap. Her hands were instantly on his shoulder, pushing against him to dislodge herself from his grasp.

"Relax," he commanded softly.

"This is only supposed to be about conversation," she argued as she struggled against him.

"Shh, you're fine, I'm not going to do anything you don't want." One hand stayed on her hip while the other drifted under her shirt and up the skin of her back. Her lips were pursed angrily, but she couldn't control the shudder his caresses elicited. And so she stilled, for a moment feeling no immediate danger, but keeping a wary eye on him.

"It's hard to say, huh?" he murmured thoughtfully when he felt the change in her, trying to think of a way to put her more at ease to tell him. "Whisper it in my ear, if you want," he suggested, figuring if she wasn't being looked at she would feel more in control. He could feel her fingers flex into his shoulders before she swallowed and leaned forward, her torso coming into full contact with his.

Her lips brushed the shell of his ear, and then her warm breath on his skin as she spoke. "The man attacking me is...my father. Not my father, but my father in the fantasy. And the man who rescues me is..." her fingers were nearly painful in his shoulders, "my brother," she admitted, her voice quivering with her shameful admission.

Denny recalled one of her stories that had been about a brother. And while he knew the relationship was not a viable one, he understood the need behind it. An unconditional lover, someone whose love for her surpassed the parameters of any common romantic relationship. Something that existed at birth and lasted until death.

And suddenly, despite the arousal their conversation had stirred and the pleasure of her body against him, Denny just wanted to hold her. His arms wound tightly around her, pressing her into him. Again, he just held her in silence, feeling his body absorb the tremors of hers. One hand slid up her back to thread into her hair, but its progress was impeded by the up do she still wore.

"Sweetheart," he coaxed gently, drawing her attention to lift her head, "sit up for me." Her eyes were tinged with redness, uncertainty creased her brow. She needed that acceptance now, he could knew, needed that unconditional support, despite her less than normal proclivities. His eyes were loving as they caressed her, his hands familiar and confident as one stroked up her arm to cup her cheek and then slide round back to begin pulling at the many pins holding her brunette locks into place. The large knotted mass sagged, and then with one last stopping pin removed, gave way and cascaded around her shoulders, curtaining them in as she was looking down on him. The large braid still remained, and with ever-tender fingers, he slowly unwound it until he could stoke his fingers through her mane unfettered and unhindered.

"You have gorgeous hair," he murmured. Eventually his fingers moved on from her hair to trace the lines of her face. "And gorgeous eyebrows, and gorgeous eyes. And a perfect nose," he commented as his finger stroked down it to run over her lips, "and the prettiest, sexiest mouth I've ever wanted to kiss."

But then that mouth tightened. Denny looked up into her eyes questioningly.

"I know I'm gorgeous," she stated unamused. "That's why everyone likes me."

"You don't seem happy about that fact."

"Why would I be happy about being liked for something that's not going to last? I'd much rather be liked for the things I have accomplished."

Denny's eyes widened in understanding before he gave a knowing nod. "Of course. You think if people like you for the things you can control, then you can control if people like you. You can keep them from not liking you, from leaving you," he pieced together.

Alessa's brow furrowed, her mouth set in an unhappy line. "As riveting as your questions are, I'm getting rather tired of them." She made to move off his lap, but his fingers tightened around her.

"Well, if you don't want to talk, I'm okay with that. I'm sure I could find a much more...pleasurable use for your mouth," he confessed huskily, reaching up to run his thumb over her lips.

But her hands were against his chest, her back arching her away. "Denny," she attempted to say in warning, but it came out with a needier uncertainty that wasn't convincing.

"What if I said I liked you for more than your pretty face and figure?"

"I would say, eventually you would like those same qualities in someone else who happened to be younger and prettier," she predicted.

For a minute, they only stared, both realizing they were at the proverbial stale mate. Alessa sighed, and was relieved when he allowed her to slide of his lap at last.

"Denny, this isn't getting us anywhere," she groused.

And he knew she was right. Alessa was tired and irritable, and he had pushed her beyond her comfort level several times. He chuckled dismally.

"I know I gave us more time for this date in hopes that we could finally settle it, but perhaps it was wishful to think we could work through the night and be at our best. After all, the Great Wall wasn't built in a day. Well, at least we'll have a few hours in the morning," he sighed getting up to stand before her. He took her hands, "Sleep with me," he requested softly.

Alessa jerked her hands away and scowled at him. "I'm not sleeping with you."

He smiled mirthlessly and reached up to cup her cheek. "I'm not asking you to have sex with me, just to lay down with me. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'd like to wake up with you in my arms. At least just once."

He seemed so forlorn, and so sincere in his intentions, that it was a struggle for her to not immediately grant him his wish. Her lips still pursed together, her mind batting away the rolling pleasure of his tender hand on her face, the needful look in his eyes, she begrudgingly decided it would be equally nice for her to wake up in his arms. Just once.

"Fine," she mumbled.

He clucked his tongue at her three times as if she were a naughty school girl, and stepped to her, filling the last of the space between them. "Don't be petulant." His leaned in as if for a kiss, but her hands came up to his chest.

"Denny, I haven't given you permission," she reminded him.

His eyes, smiling, lifted to hers. "Yet. Tell me, can you define a kiss?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she hummed confused as his head continued dipping to hers, but his mouth falling to the side to glide against her cheek, down along her jaw, to rub against the sensitive skin under her ear. The scrape of his stubble was a thousand erotic sensations skittering up her scalp and down her spine.

"A kiss. Its definition. If you want to control the parameters of a kiss, you have to be able to define it," he instructed, reminding her of basic legal principles.

"Mmm," she began, trying to think in face of the murmuring warmth in her body Denny's mouth produced. "Lips. Pressing lips against another surface, most commonly another person's mouth, but not limited to. Common surfaces also include another person's skin such as the cheek, forehead, or, oh," she gasp as she felt his tongue stroke that very sensitive surface on the side of her neck. "The neck," she breathed at last. "Tongues may also be present," she added in hind thought, "though tongue alone is not a kiss nor is its present required to be considered a kiss."

"Very good," he purred against her. "Anything else you would like to add?" he asked as he took her ear lobe into his mouth and suckled just enough to make her gasp and bend herself into him, giving him even greater access.

"Why do you do these things to me? Why do you make me feel this way when I don't want to?"

"Oh, Sweetheart, because you do want it. You're just afraid. I just have to win your trust that I'm not like anything you've ever known." And then he was kissing her neck again before he pulled back to look into her eyes. "And because there's nothing I want more." He kissed the tip of her nose lightly and then pulled her into the bedroom. Wordlessly, he guided her to get ready, showing her the supply of guest toothbrushes and face washes while he changed. When they were at last scrubbed and ready for bed, he pulled back the sheets for her.

Alessa got in cautiously, watching him walk around to the other side and slide in comfortably. She lay on her back, her eyes cast to the side watching him as he rolled to face her, his head resting on his propped hand. He was grinning at her like a rascal.

"What?"

"You really never have slept with anyone have you?"

She moved her torso away from him and turned to look at him squarely. "Why do you ask that?"

Denny laughed, finding humor that in their massive king-size bed Alessa lay on the very edge, looking like a princess sleeping under a spell with hands clasped protectively over her chest. Without warning, Denny reached across the space to pull her toward him and firmly position her spooned against his body.

"Denny! What are you-"

"Shh," he soothed, settling down against her. "When you sleep with someone, this is how you do it," he murmured into her ear. Denny felt Alessa's deep breath and slow sigh.

"Now," he teased lightly, "if you are overcome in the middle of the night with the need to ravish me..." he could feel her tense up, "wake me up first because I don't want to miss hearing you give me permission for that kiss."

"Why, you-" but again she was cut off as he dropped a kiss behind her ear and nuzzled into her, deeply inhaling the fresh and sweet fragrance of her.