Overpriced Apple Girl/The Most Awesome Pickpockets In The ENTIRE WORLD! (Part 3)

"Goodbye… stranger." Those were the last words she said before she slammed the door shut and, judging by the sound of her steps in the stairway, left the building in quite a hurry.

"Yeah, goodbye…" he muttered to no one in particular. He remained reclined for a while, his head full of impressions. Apple, huh? A cute code name she came up with. And how very convenient, he mused as he tossed the sheets aside. He wasn't a phychologist, but he was perceptive enough to realize that she, maybe subconsciously, maybe not, wanted to protect her normal person in some way. This wasn't… whatever her name might have been, let's say Mary. Mary was a good girl who ate her vegetables and went to church. Mary would certainly never be picked up at the corner of a shady alley in a crime-ridden suburb of Hell. That was all Apple's schtick. It just made things all the easier.

He chuckled to himself at his amateur analysis of his one-time partner, then slowly rose and sauntered over to the door to lock it after her. He might be completely wrong, of course. He didn't know her, maybe she did this kind of stuff all the time. He didn't care much, however. The important thing was that the plan had suceeded, as he noticed it had when he glanced down at the corner where he had put the sack. It wasn't there, and since she had practically ran down the stairs…

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" he turned around and called to the apartment in general. Within a few moments, a second character emerged from the the bedrom doorway. She was dressed in a set of underwear that clung loosely to her hips and midriff. Her red hair was made up in a ponytail that reached down between her shoulder blades, her limbs were elegant, firm and agile, and her smile was alight with an almost childlike glee.

"Victory is ours," she giggled, putting the sack down with a dull thud and almost dancing over into his arms. Her ponytail swirled as she made a pirouette and landed in his embrace, her face still radiating with the high of sucess, but also he was pleased to notice, displaying signs of another kind of arousal. She smiled wickedly, parting her lipas and whispering hotly, "Let me taste…"

Without speaking, he pulled her tight up against him, his hands splayed over her back and his lips meeting hers in a passionate union. He could feel her tongue wrestle his, her mouth drinking his with an unneglectable need. He closed his eyes and concentrated solely on her. Her taste. Her soft lips that needfully suckled his. Her hot, delectable skin that just begged to be methodically covered in kisses. It was love, he knew.

"She tasted sweet," she mumbled when she finally pulled away, her cheeks quite flustered and a wet sheen still remaining on her lips.

"She called herself Apple," he replied with a light pant on his breath. "I suppose she would be tasty. We should probably make ourselves scarce," he commented with a swift look at the door.

"That's so unfair," she pouted, but untangled herself and went into the bedroom to get dressed. It almost hurt physically to feel her slip away, but they both knew how stupid it would be to remain on the scene of the crime for long. He went and collected his clothes, all except for…

"Hey, have you seen my undies?" he called to her from the living room.

"I think you tossed them over one of the chairs when you were about to stick it in her…"

"Yeah, but they're not here now," he interjected blushingly. Had she followed them around? She really was great at hiding, wasn't she? He searched around on the floor for a bit, but was interrupted by her voice from the doorway. She had dressed in her usual, practical brown linen getup, the only admission to her beauty a low cut on the shirt, and kneehigh brown boots, and was now leaning on the doorpost, a smile on her her lips that betrayed her amusement at seing him crawl before her in the buff.

"I wish you'd do that more," she commented with a glint in her eyes.

"I'm happy to entertain," he replied dryly, "but there's a time and a place for that. Would you check the kitchen please?" He lifted a potted plant, just to be sure.

"That time would be now baby…" She licked her lips in a way that, in his undressed state, had quite severe consequences. "…but yeah, the place is too hot. Legally speaking," she clearified with a wink as she left for the kitchen. He had to stand up and think about garbage disposal for a while in order to not go completely insane. Soon, he told himself. As soon as they got to their other safe house. "They aren't here either," she reported. "Just get your pants on and let's go. Saves time for me anyway."

"I don't have any other clean ones," he called back back to her. "Just give me five minutes."

"That's an eternity."

"Come on in and help me then." Yeah, it was a a lot of fuss over a pair of undergarments, but he liked those shorts. They were comfy and easy to wear. Besides, Apple had seemed quite preoccupied when she left. Hopefully she'd remain so for a while longer.

"You are such a ditz," she lamented as she came back into the living room and started the search for the wayward woolies under a heavy oaken table.

"I was, as I bet you witnessed yourself, kind of busy. The coordinates of my clothes weren't the most pressing point of interest."

"I bet you pressed ALL her points of interest," she replied with a sultry giggle. "So… how was she?"

He had never really understood this kink of hers, not fully. He knew that he, himself, would go crazy if he found her in bed with someone else. She however, seemed to get a kick out of watching him. She had attested it herself, and it was she who had suggested their current modus operandi. She liked to see him tumble around with others, taste a different woman's on his lips. She had called it… spice.

Which meant that this conversation could become dangerous. Still, he replied.

"She was a bit better endowed than you," he replied, peeking under the carpet. "Fuller, so to speak. She was soft to hold, it felt like…" He stopped to consider. "…hot jelly to rub her." He climbed into the couch and looking behind the pillows. "She had a really strong musculature in her…" he continued, but was interrupted by a hand on his back. Startled, but not really surprised, he turned around and almost recoiled at the sight. She had removed her shirt, tossed her bra and was now towering over him with a look that was almost feral in its arousal.

"Go on," she demanded, crawling up in the couch and slowly climbing atop him. He couldn't tear his gaze from her. She was… so beautiful.

"She made a little squealing noise when…. mmmpph!" She silenced him with a kiss, as deep as before.

"I can feel her on your lips still…" she whispered, her hands stroking his bare chest.

"T-Take her away…" he panted, all thoughts about leaving, or indeed getting dressed, immediately banished. If she had a strange kink in watching him sleeping with others, he wasn't much better. There was something he loved above all else in the world, and that was to feel his own read-headed angel replace all impressions of the outside reality. Feel her smell, taste, weight, heat overwhelm him until his senses were cleansed and he could think, breathe, live only through her, his one love.

He felt her slide over him, like the unrelenting tide she drowned him, filled his every nerve with the essence of her presence. She kissed him again, her cheeks blushing almost the same red as her hair.

"Let's take a ten minute break," she breathed into his open mouth. He agreed.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License