"Would you open the door now?"

     He dilly-dallied. He didn't know if she heard all the things they had said. That would be suicidal. Cortana was a bitch. A fooking bitch. A douchebag. 

    He opened the door. He didn't meet what he thought he would. He thought she would be angry, like pretty mad at him and some how leave the place propelled by the rage. 

    That would had been somehow nice and relieving but he wouldn't had forgiven Cortana. Even his best friend wouldn't had stabbed him in the back in such manner and pretend he was helping him. 

    What was he thinking? His bestie would had done worst. Cortana was a little bit sane than Roy. Damn! He was a hibernated epistle of hooey. 

      Ishbelle was having the gown over the boobs and was wearing a light smile. She probably heard all but was feigning not to be annoyed. He couldn't be sure though. 

    "May I step in please."

    He looked down at himself. He was blocking the way. He stepped aside and let his mouth reel whatever was best,

     "Of ... Course... Yea. Please... Course."

    He should just calm down. He should really. She didn't seem to be who he really thought she would be. Like some rude and tough and crazy and annoying and quick to anger lady. 

    But even at that, he shouldn't expect anything from her again that day. She of course had heard that and would be held in a bad mood. Even though she was trying to ignore. 

    They probably were just going to have a brief chat and then she would leave. 

   No! She wouldn't leave. Twas just 9:50am. The red light clock told him that. 

     "You're a hell of a rich guy. OMG. Your room though."

    He made an awkward sound rather than smile. He was too jumpy to even fake a smile. 

    She walked to the right of the bed and traced one of her left fingers across a pretty large iPad which was strapped to the top of the drawer. 

    "I should guess this is the AI."

     He couldn't see what she was pointing at. The room wasn't that much big but was portable. 

     He moved a little bit towards the bed and nodded, but how was she supposed to see that. She had her back to him and had nodded?

   He corrected himself,

    "Yup. The crazy bitch."

     She turned to him and smiled. He could tell that that was genuine. That smile was sheepish and real. The curves they made on her phizog was unique. That was somewhat a plus to him. 

    But, he was expecting what would happen next. That would determine the fate of the rest of the day. 

     She dropped the gown she had been clutching with her right hand to her boobs on the bed. 

     He slurped as though he had swallowed or swigged a cup of probably cappuccino. 

    His oesophagus danced in anticipation. The boobs were calling him. They had no mouth but he could hear them. But he dared no go to her. 

   He didn't have the courage. 

    Then at once, she ran to him and hopped on him. Her legs coiled around his waist and her arms around his neck. The bounty boobs pressing on his chest and her lips hovering over his. She chuckled. 

     "I guess I'm lucky to have you then."

   He wanted to process that. He wanted to make meaning of what she had said. Like understand her stance and the point she was trying to put her across. But he couldn't. 

     She already locked her lips with his and ploughed his mouth heavily and ruthlessly. At the same time she was rocking herself hard on him. 

     He was trying to catch his breath but the heat saved him. He lost it. But he was kinda glad that she wasn't mad at him. At least, no one gets mad during sex. 

      She kept running her tongue around his mouth fighting for pleasure and response. He was always there for her. But she seemed to need more. She was giving all she could think of and had. He was trying too. 

      She began to relent, she seemed to be enjoying the response she was getting from him. His chest was broad enough to house the boobs.

       As he kissed her hot, he ran his hand up and down her back and tried to bring the right hand to the front, but he couldn't. The pressuring pleasure was beyond limit. 

     He walked towards the bed with her still on him and with their lips still locked. She didn't want to let go of his mouth. She seemed  to derive the pleasure more from the mouth than other parts. 

      He got to the bed and brought her gently down. He was still on her. He wanted to take his mouth away and balance himself but she wouldn't let go. 

     He lifted her that way, in the act and ensured the balance. Then she let go of his mouth. 

     His mouth was hot and burning. He didn't take his face away from hers. He didn't want to look at her face. He might lose focus. 

    He went down her neck with his tongue tracing a track and his lips kissing the borders and corners of her face down her neck. Delicate bites and patterned breaths complemented his efforts. 

    He went down and down to the top of her chest and kissed every rise of her shoulders. His two legs were over hers. His erection was over her pussy: they both still had their underwears on.  

   But he was rocking the top of the pussy really hard with his erection while she crawled under him in pleasure and moaned. 

     He went down and down and kissed the top of the boobs. He toggled and fiddled with his nose and breathed on them. His warm and fiery breath sent a current through her spines. She held unto him. Her hands on his head. He loved that response. 

    He slid the bra off the boobs and revealed the crying nipples. 

    He put his mouth to them and began to fiddle with the tip of the nipples...