Guy Fawkes Night

Thwap

John was awoken by the not entirely unpleasant sensation of a semi-hard girl cock slapping gently against his face. When this is how Riley had woken him on Wednesday, it had taken his brain a few moments to process it, but once he had, staring up at her smiling down at him, he had quickly adapted to the situation and been rewarded for his adaptability with a nice, thick load of hot, sticky cum after a few minutes of licking and sucking. When the same had greeted him the following day, he was slightly quicker to figure out what was going on. Now on Friday it had become almost instinctual: he opened his mouth and mostly just let her do as she wanted.

For her part, Riley seemed to understand on some level that this, while not unpleasant, was still somewhat of an imposition on her half-awake illicit lover and so, at least John guessed, she did her best to finish quickly; he was happy to help out, greedily swallowing her cum as breakfast, but there was a schedule to consider: they both had work.

John reviewed this situation mentally as Riley played with her hard nipples above him, her hips moving slightly, sliding her cock in and out of his mouth. "Ooh, fuck, that's good," she purred. "You're such a good fucking cocksucker, baby."

He smiled at the compliment as well as he could with her cock occupying his mouth. She was already leaking salty pre-cum onto his tongue as she smiled back down at him. "Oh, yeah, fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby," she was almost whispering. "Do you want my cum in your mouth, baby?"

"Mmmhmm," he responded.

"Oh fuck, here it comes, baby," she responded as her hips stopped moving. She reached down with both hands and gripped her cock, pulling it from John's mouth with a lovely "mwah" sound. "Oh fuck...fuck..." she jerked furiously a few times as John waited, mouth open, then, as expected but as always slightly surprisingly, a wad of hot, white cum spurted from her cock head and landed on his tongue, followed moments later by a second and then a third, each slightly smaller and rocketing less quickly, finally dying off to a trickle, which John had to slurp up noisily to keep from dripping down onto his bare chest.

"Ooh shit, fuck," she groaned as she forcefully squeezed out the last few drops of the sticky stuff from her engorged cock head. She sighed, seemingly satisfied, then pushed her hair away from her face. "Fuck, you really are getting good at that," she said.

John sat up and took a second to let what remained of the cum on his tongue slide slowly down his throat. "I feel like you're kind of doing all the work," he replied, "I'm barely even awake yet."

"And yet you're an amazing cocksucker," she replied with a smile, then leaned down to kiss him on the mouth, punctuating the short, soft kiss with an "Mmm." She reached over to the nightstand and picked up John's phone just long enough to check the time. "Fuck," she said, "we gotta get going. I let you sleep way too long."

"Well at least I already had my breakfast," he said, following Riley as she had already hopped off the bed and begun pulling on the suitable-for-work outfit she had brought over the night before and promptly chucked carelessly onto the floor in a pile. By this point he wasn't even going to bother asking what her fiance was making of her absence every night this week: since they had hooked up on Monday, followed by a Riley-induced day off together, she had spent each night at John's without so much as asking.

Not that he minded: she had only briefly left Tuesday evening to fetch clothes for the following day, and by the time John had gotten home on Wednesday evening, she was already there, chilling in her car with an outfit selected for Thursday's work, as well as a small bag containing various girl things which were evidently necessary, or at least preferred, for an overnight stay. Similarly, Thursday night had come and Riley had appeared once again, evidently seeing no need to ask permission.

He hadn't minded then and he didn't mind now as he went about getting prepared for the day at work. It was odd, though, this new rhythm. Surely something was up with her relationship, but he was past asking about it. He assumed her fiance was out of town and that this little situationship, such as it was, would not last much longer, but he was just as happy not to think about it. What's the alternative? Push her about it? To what end? She's right that I should just enjoy it while I can. Besides, with Chloe gone it's not like I have anyone else's feelings to worry about.

For once, John was surprised that his subconscious had nothing to say about the matter as he took his morning piss.

"Aww," Riley said, pushing the bathroom door open and entering, still working her arm into the sleeve of the tight but otherwise plain brown sweater.

He shot her a look that he hoped came off as the correct mix of questioning and playful as his piss stream died down.

"Just disappointed you didn't wait for me," she said, punctuated with a pout, before she moved on to brushing her teeth.

Pretty sure that was one of my toothbrushes she's using, he thought as he finished up. I guess she found the spares no problem. "You could still clean me up," he offered, waggling his dick for effect.

Peh she spat out a glob of toothpaste into the sink. "Sorry, no time. Boss is riding me lately."

"Can't blame him for that," John said, followed with a wink.

"Hee hee," Riley replied sarcastically. "Seriously, though, if I'm late again he's going to get my ass."

"Can't blame him for that, either," John said with a smile.

"Haha," Riley replied, the toothbrush in her mouth distorting her words. "Now get your sexy little butt moving."

"Alright, alright," he said. He stepped out the door, then turned to take one last look at her; even in her modest skirt and sweater, she looked like a model, the outfit which should have been frumpy only somehow accenting what was under it. "So I guess I'll see you again tonight?"

Riley shrugged without turning to face him.

"Unless your fiance is due back? From out of town or wherever he's been this week?"

The pretense that she had not heard him was far from convincing, and so he sighed. "You know, in case there was something you needed to talk to him about? Maybe some bad news you need to deliver to him?"

She spat again, cupped some water in her hand and gargled with it for a moment, then spit that out before turning to face him. "Get going or you're going to be late." She returned his frustrated look for a moment, then added, "I'll see you tonight, now get the fuck out of here."

I need some coffee.

***

Riley had, much to John's chagrin, turned out to be correct about being late. He had arrived a few minutes later than expected, though his subsequent sneaking to his desk proved, unsurprisingly, not to matter a whit. Nobody bothered him about being late or, for that matter, anything else, leaving him free to do what he did best: waste time while pretending to work, making changes here and there to pre-written documents, sending emails for which responses were neither required or desired, and absorbing the company's supply of caffeine.

Between tasks, he fucked around with his phone, trying each time not to be disappointed to hear nothing from Chloe. Maybe I should text her.

For what purpose? his inner voice asked.

You know, in case she...I don't know, just to see if she's doing alright.

And if she's not, what are you going to do about it? the voice responded. Do you think she's going to want you, of all people, to comfort her?

He was growing annoyed with his own thoughts. She said she loved me, he thought back at the voice.

Yeah and then she broke up with you. Actions speak louder than words, my man.

The increasingly frustrating inner conversation was fortunately interrupted by an incoming message from Carrie.

free for lunch?

He looked at the text for a moment, mildly surprised at what appeared to be an invitation from his ex, then fired off a sure in reply.

cool, your treat? 🙏

He shook his head and chuckled. sure he fired back.

She replied with a link to a nearby place, which, upon opening, seemed acceptable for a short lunch break, and meet you there.

He sent back a 👍 and went back to pretending to work.

***

He found Carrie already seated in a booth of the restaurant she'd selected. A half-finished plate of food sat in front of her as she waved him over.

"I started without you, hope you don't mind," she said as he took a seat opposite her.

"I see that," he replied. "What's good here?"

"I don't know," she replied, then, pushing the plate away from herself, "Not this, though. You want the rest?"

He couldn't help smiling at Carrie being Carrie. "The rest of your half-eaten lunch that you just admitted isn't good?"

She squinted her eyes at him, but her annoyance was clearly feigned, her lips subtly curling up into a small smile. "Whatever," she said, "how's things, kiddo?"

"Kiddo?" he repeated, stifling a laugh, "You're certainly chipper today. You get laid or something?"

She scowled at him again, albeit not entirely without playfulness. "Can't a girl just be happy for no reason?"

"A girl?" he said, "Sure. You? Unlikely."

"Ha ha," she said sarcastically, "Maybe I'm just happy a guy is buying me lunch."

"Fair enough," he said. "No luck on the dating front, then, I guess?"

This time her scowl was far less playful, although it was also much more fleeting. "How's Riley?" she answered his question with a question.

"Riley?" he asked, surprised at the topic change.

"Yeah, Riley, you know, the girl whose dick you're in love with?" Carrie said. She picked a fry from her abandoned plate and popped it into her mouth.

"Ha ha," he returned. "You're friends, why don't you ask her?"

She smiled and did a little head bobble. "I could," she said. "Maybe I will. Just wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth. Or I guess the horse's ass in your case."

"You know I haven't actually paid for that lunch of yours yet," he replied, adding mentally, or even been asked about my own by any waitresses. He looked around the place, noticing it was fairly busy. Leave it to Carrie to snag a full booth for her lonesome during the lunch rush.

"Aww, you're such a dick," she said, snapping John out of his musings. "Whatever, I'll just ask her how much she's stretched out your butthole tomorrow."

A middle-aged woman at a nearby table made a face of disgust at Carrie's words, though the latter seemed oblivious to this.

Well I guess her secret hookup is only somewhat secret. "You're seeing Riley tomorrow?" he asked. His stomach growled at him, so he joined her in picking over the fries she had left on her plate, which had now disappointingly grown lukewarm.

She shrugged. "Yeah, probably. Just hanging out for a while, probably. You know, girl stuff, talking about dicks and shit."

The middle aged woman threw her napkin down and got up in a huff, making enough noise in the process that even Carrie seemed to notice, turning her head momentarily before dismissing it and turning her attention back to John.

"Jealous?" she teased.

"Of your girl talk?" he asked. "Not particularly. Isn't it kind of weird that you two are so close, though?"

Carrie made a face somehow triangulating perfectly confusion, annoyance and amusement. "Why would that be weird?"

"I mean," John began, then paused, considering what exactly it was that he had meant before continuing cautiously, "well, I mean, whatever, just...I mean, you know about her fiance, right?"

She shrugged and made another face. "Nick? Uh, yeah, what about him?"

He sighed. "Nothing. Just...weren't you always on me for...well, my...past indiscretions? And you don't seem to be bothered by her very present ones is all."

She looked away for a second, obviously pretending that something else had caught her attention. "Whatever," she said after a moment. "It's not like she's cheating on me. Besides..." she strangely cut off and went back to picking at her fries.

"Besides what?" John asked.

She looked annoyed, her eyes flicking up to meet his while her face remained tilted down toward the plate. "Besides who cares," she said. "It's not like they're actually going to stay together, anyway."

"What makes you say that?" he asked, suddenly very aware of his stomach complaining to him.

"Because they're just not. She's not going to stay with some guy who..." she bit her tongue, just the tip of it poking from between her teeth. "She's not going to stay with a guy she's fucking around on. That's the reason why you fuck around on someone, isn't it? You're not happy with them so you fuck around to find something better." She drew in a deep breath and then blew it out in a show of annoyance, leaning back into the booth. "Or in her case until she finds you. Not sure if that's an improvement. Really seems like more of a lateral move to me, to be honest."

John found his face involuntarily twisting itself into the half-amused scowl that usually accompanied conversations with Carrie. "I see," he said.

"Whatever," she said. "Like I said, she's not cheating on me, so it's none of my business. Just judging based on their interactions, on what I've seen of the two of them."

"You've been hanging around with them a lot?" he asked. His stomach was still complaining to him to a distracting degree.

"Nah," she replied, glancing out the window, "never really wanted to be a third wheel."

He laughed, finding it helped with his stomach, oddly enough. "Now I know you're full of shit. I guess I'd better steel myself for their wedding."

She looked at him incredulously, shaking her head slightly but not saying anything for a few moments. "Should I get dessert?" she asked. "You want some dessert?"

He gave a sort of non-committal gesture as a reply.

"Eh, forget it," she shrugged. "I need to watch my weight, anyway. My ass is getting way too fat."

"Unlikely," John replied.

"Thanks," she responded sarcastically.

"Anyway I'm paying so you should get whatever you want. That's what I'm here for, right? To be a wallet?"

She smiled, a small, genuine smile that she rarely showed the world. "No," she said. "I was just fucking with you, anyway, I'll get my half."

"I don't care, really," John waved it off.

"Just wanted to get out and get some company," she said, once more absentmindedly looking out the window.

"Chloe not around?" he asked.

She turned to look at him again, studying him but saying nothing.

"How is she, anyway?" he asked.

She let out a small, resigned sigh. "How do you think she's doing, guy?"

"I don't know," John began.

Before he could finish his thought, she cut in. "She's fine. She'll be fine without you. Don't worry about it."

He shrugged, turning his focus to a by now completely cold fry which he had picked up but was only idly toying with.

He heard her let out a little sigh and so looked up to find her eyes, somehow softer than usual, studying him. "Really, though, she'll be fine. You're better off with Riley, anyway." She sucked on her lower lip for a second, then added. "You two have way more in common."

"You mean like being fuck ups?" he asked.

She smiled. "Something like that. Sorry, I gotta go."

"No dessert?" he asked.

She considered the question for what seemed like far too long before answering, "Nah, you'll have to settle for ogling my only moderately fat ass. Sorry."

They both smiled for a few moments, and then she signaled a waitress. "Can we get the check?"

"Sure," the waitress, who looked to be fresh out of high school replied before disappearing to another part of the restaurant.

Carrie looked at John with a smile he knew all too well. "And now comes the part where I pick up said check?"

"You said you didn't mind..." she said, her smile only growing bigger.

He nodded and rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, pal," she said, before winking and sliding out of the booth. "See ya. And say 'hi' to Riley for me."

John's stomach grumbled as he pulled out his wallet.

***

"You know, if you just gave me a key, you wouldn't have to wait for me to get undressed."

Riley's face, hidden partially behind big, dark sunglasses that struck John as being unnecessary for the dark gray sky, was impossible to read. He puzzled for a second over whether she was joking or not before returning his attention to the front door of his house, unlocking it and gesturing for her to enter.

"And I guess if I gave you my PIN number you could order us some dinner, too," he replied as he shut the door behind them.

She pulled her sunglasses off and, looking him directly in the eyes, replied. "Not a bad idea, actually." A smile, which spread across her face in the split second before she turned and continued into the living room, undoing the buttons on her sweater as she went, was of no use in determining the seriousness of her oblique request. "But you should know it's just 'PIN', not 'PIN number'," she added, "Unless you actually meant 'personal identification number number'."

"Yeah, right," John said, mildly amused, "whatever the thing is called that you put in the ATM machine."

"Ooh, ATM," Riley said. She tossed her sweater aside, now wearing only a business- if not weather-appropriate button-down top and a modest skirt. "Now we're talking." She drew him into a deep kiss, her arms wrapping around his waist.

He reached around behind her, his fingers gliding down over the smooth curve of her ass until the reached the hem of her skirt, then slipped under it, pushing her skirt up as they went.

He was already starting to grow hard when she pushed away from him, smiling. "Buy a girl dinner first?"

"Yeah, why not order something?" he said. "I could eat a horse after today's lunch date, and I'd rather you not burn the house down trying to whip something up."

Her smile disappeared momentarily before she managed to resurrect it, albeit not entirely convincingly. "Lunch date?" she asked.

"Yeah," John answered as he flopped down on the comfy chair in the living room. "Well, lunch with Carrie, anyway. I don't think she really qualifies as a date."

"Oh," Riley replied. She moved around to the front of the couch and took a seat. "Did you run into her or something?"

He took a moment to try to parse her intentions, but she had hidden them away under an expression of feigned disinterest, pulling her phone from her purse and pretending to look at something on it while watching him from the corner of her eye.

"Nah," he answered, trying not to sound too wary, "she just wanted to hang out. She said you two were going to hang out tomorrow. So I guess tonight's the last night of this little affair?" He indicated with a half-assed finger gesture the two of them.

She shrugged, no longer able to continue the charade of looking at her phone. "Yeah, I mean, just girl stuff. You wouldn't be interested."

John shrugged in return. "So, what are you in the mood for?" he asked.

"We should go out," Riley responded immediately. She looked as if the words had startled her as much as they had John with their suddenness.

"Uh, sure," John stammered. "I kind of figured you would want to stay in and...well, you know. But sure, why not? Where would you like to go?"

"I don't know," she said, visibly considering it, then, "Somewhere with a bar."

"You're looking to drink some tonight?"

She smiled a strange little smile at what had seemed like an obvious and innocuous little question. "Something like that."

***

Grrrgh

The ginger ale that John had already finished was doing very little to appease his stomach, which was by that point quite insistent that they go somewhere else for dinner. The grumble of that stomach, while almost embarrassingly loud to John, seemed to be inaudible, at least to Riley's ears as she sat, nursing a rum and coke, next to him at the bar that she had assured him would have food.