Tearing Out the Sutures

[AnyOtherName]

Closed for Bevatoria.

It all sank in rather suddenly. Standing in the middle of her living room, allowing her sky blue eyes to scan over the stacks of boxes...the plan became real. Serenity Oliver was abandoning everything she had known in her adult life, moving across the country, and starting over.

Nothing dramatic had happened to prompt her to run away, either. Or so far as most could tell. She was unmarried, without children, had a healthy social life, and genuinely enjoyed her work. Ren had been with the same company for six years, ever since she graduated from college...and so it was quite the shock, two weeks ago, when she waltzed in and gave her notice. Coworkers and friends alike were baffled.

“New York?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Well, but...why?”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you liked California.”

“I do.”

“And so...you’re taking a pay cut to move to New York?”

Ren sighed impatiently. “I told you, it’s an indy gaming company – of course I’m going to get paid less. At least I won’t be on the corporate hamster wheel anym—“

Her mother laughed.

“What?”

“I just got it.”

Ren listened in silence, waiting for the dramatic pause to cease.

“This is about Quentin, isn’t it?”

“...No.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, mom.”

“Of course he does!”

Ren felt a tightening in her throat. Even when the former best friends did speak, it was nothing like when they were growing up together. Their senior year had been quite the test on their friendship, and when all was said and done...yeah, they spoke. But they didn’t say anything.

“I really think calling him would be a good idea.”

“No. I want to talk to him in person.”

“You know Liz tells me when he’s coming home for a holiday, it wouldn’t be that difficult to—“

“Please, mom. This is my decision.”

“I just think you’re being a little rash, is all...”

“Yeah, well. It’s about damned time.”

-----

Ren looked fondly upon a high school picture, smiling softly as her gaze traced over the image of the two happy teenagers.

In the glossy photo, her mouth was open, the corners of her lips lifted so high that it caused for her cheeks to swell. Looking upon the expression reminded Ren that, at the time, she had been giving a squealing cry. Her arms were wrapped around a male that looked to be about her age: Quentin, her best friend. The picture had been taken when they were both seventeen, on a joint family camping trip. Quentin had hefted Ren into the air, an arm placed behind her shoulders with the other cradling the bend of her knees. He was carrying her into the lake, preparing to dunk her, and from the dock one of their parents had snapped the picture. It had turned out perfect: Ren had even had one of her feet kicked up in the air like a bride might for a wedding announcement photo.

Despite the romanticism captured in that image, Quentin and Ren had never been lovers.

The raven-haired woman stared at the picture in her hand for a full minute before she tucked it back into her luggage. Waiting for her cab to arrive, she leaned back on the bench outside of the airport and looked up at the sky.

Despite the sagely advice of her mother, Ren had opted not to call Quentin. Instead, she made an arrangement with his secretary, so that he’d be expecting to meet a potential client over lunch.

Getting into the city early, the woman had enough time to check out her temporary lodgings and drop off the minimal amount of her belongs. A quick shower and a change, she put on a strappy little gray sundress and only a light amount of make-up. She left her dark tresses free of restraint, her straight locks flowing over her shoulders and down just beyond the curve of her full double D breasts. She stood 5’8” and had an athletic figure that made the fullness of her hips and breasts overwhelmingly prominent. Her curves had provided her more than a few opportunities at settling down but she remained completely uninterested in such a prospect. It wasn’t until recently that she admitted to herself that she was hung up on Quentin. She sabotaged all of her relationships because she had been unknowingly comparing them to him and they couldn’t even come close to measuring up.

-----

She felt anxious as the hostess led her towards the patio, being told that the other half of her party had already arrived. Ren’s 6-inch heels made a reassuring sound against the marble of a main dining room as they crossed – but the familiar clicking was not enough to drown out the fear that this would be a total disaster. What if he actually hated her? He’d have every right, but... Ren hadn’t meant to hurt him. If only intentions dictated results, the world would be a much better place.

She let out a breath and straightened her posture just before crossing the threshold to outside.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to him. Ren couldn’t help but admire his face as she approached, reflecting on how she had always been attracted to him. It didn’t even make sense that they had never...

He glanced up as they approached the table, standing and almost reaching out his hand as if expecting to shake with someone important.

“Q!” Ren called out with a beaming smile. She skirted the table in order to throw her arms around him. “It’s been too long!”

 

[Bevatoria]

For him, it wasn't really sinking in at all. Quentin Harsene wasn't too busy to think, but he was certainly too busy to reflect. He was looking down at his Blackberry, eighteen months before he found himself sitting in a restaurant, about to get the biggest surprise he'd had in about ten years or so.

"New York?" asked his assistant, Eileen.

"That's the plan."

"I...I don't know." The younger blonde looked hesitant, uncertain. She was three years younger then Quentin, and had served him ably during her three years as his personal assistant. But he was convinced in order to expand his practice, that they needed to head to New York. A new place, somewhere fresh to really build his company up. He'd managed to keep it afloat on his own, bringing in just enough business to pay himself, and Eileen. But growth had stagnated, and the area's weaker economy had him pondering a move.

At least that's what he told himself.

"It's a ways from here." Her voice was still weak, as if justifying it to herself as much as to him to say no. Quentin could afford to replace her, might even find it easier, but despite everything he'd built over the years, there were still some people he wanted to keep in his life. And, attached or not, Eileen was one of them. Despite her long blonde hair and legs that seemed to go on for miles (ones she showed off mostly for her boyfriend, Quentin was convinced), he'd never thought of her as anything other then a coworker.

And so, the same easy smile came to his face. Not a lying look, exactly, but one that convinced the person across from him - even closer ones - of the truth of his statement as he looked at her, eyes aglow with promise. "Trust me, Eileen. This move will help us grow Standoff Consulting into something bigger then it is here."

He was right, even if he was wrong about his reason for moving. Eileen smiled at him, slowly but eagerly getting back to packing the boxes in the office. "I'll tell David....he should be able to find something in New York, right?"

"Yeah." His voice was still there, but his eyes weren't, as Quentin turned away. She had someone to talk things over with. He didn't, since Olivia had left him.

"When you look at me, it's as if you're expecting someone else. When we talk, when we spend time together...when we make love..."

And so, he got caught up in his work again, the business of preparing his new office for his arrival, to get the things he needed out of her, the rest discarded. The movers would be here soon. No time to wishy wash, no reason to think about why he didn't bother to feel anything anymore, to spend so much of his 'free' time at the gym, or wrapped up in his company that would succeed anywhere if he put his mind to it.

******

If he looked at the same photo, a smile would come to his face. That year at Christmas, he'd seen it at his parents' place, and even though a flare of regret and hurt passed through him, the moment itself would still make him remember something fondly.

The cry was just as familiar to him as if he was reliving it again. Their families had always done things together the ways cousins and nieces did if they lived close by. And yet, his bond with Serenity had never felt like that, even if it had never gone as far as he'd hoped. She'd always felt light and weightless in his arms, especially that day when he'd been about to throw her into the water.

The ending had turned out...somewhat differently, if not entirely unexpected or welcome. Shortly after, she'd managed to somehow drag him in there with her, and they were both soaking wet, laughing, enjoying their time together, no matter what it was they'd ended up doing.

No matter what it was they'd ended up not becoming, that would rue them afterwards.

******

As he whirled around his office, managing a staff of six, Quentin was in what had become his element. His bluetooth earpiece in full use, a seven o'clock shadow - jokingly referred to as one since he got up two hours earlier then most, giving his stubble a little more kick to it - on his face, he was in full work mode. It had been over a year since they'd moved her, and as expected, Standoff Consulting was a rising force in the business world. Their advice was to be taken, their management styles solid, their employees in demand.

Nobody in the office questioned him as to why he pushed things so hard. Not them, of course. He seemed to know exactly how far to yank, to pester, to insist, in order to get the best out of his people. He was there when they got in, and when they left, somehow still in pristine physical condition beneath his suit; a runner and boxer at the gym in his off time. This was his time to work, to build. He could raise a family after he was established, take a second chance at the love he'd lost. Eileen worried a bit, but even she gave up after a while. He was too cute, too driven not to find someone to capture his heart.

Unbeknownst to both of them, someone already had it.

On the morning that he found himself waiting on that patio, he was coming out of a meeting, in a dark blue suit jacket, pants, and a black dress shirt, one button undone. He'd always dressed brazenly for client meetings, since they seemed to appreciate that he had his own semi-casual style. His shoes were perfectly polished, his socks freshly pressed, and as he watched his client go, another smile lit his face. Another potential customer.

"Mister Harsene."

It was Eileen's voice, somehow cutting through the din of their small office, and Quentin walked over. "I've told you, Eileen, call me Quentin."

She shook her head. "It doesn't feel right. You don't let anyone else call you that..."

"When they follow me to another city, they can call me whatever they want." He gave her a look that said that small talk was over, and she quickly moved on.

"I've got a client who wants to meet us for lunch. They're...new to the area. Should I send Grover or would you rather meet her-"

He was already in motion. "No need. Send 'em to Juliano's." It was an Italian place he frequented, where he knew he wouldn't need as much notice for a reservation.

As Eileen watched him go, a ball of energy, she didn't bother to ask if he was paying. He always did.

******

On that patio, he found himself on his phone, half typing, half trying to watch for his other party. Too focused to pay a ton of attention, he knew the hostess would lead them here themselves, and then he'd turn on the charm. The sounds of passing cars and quiet chatter filled his ears as he let the world drown around him for now, a moment of peace before the chaos to come.

He had no idea, really, about what was coming next. Foosteps went too and fro, and so he didn't hear the very distinctive click of high heels coming towards him. Mostly because he didn't know it was coming towards him until he heard a voice.

The one that would *always* get his notice. But he was on autopilot, a quick glance up, and an extending of his hand, both because it was proper business, and because in the back of his mind, he was still realizing who it was that had come here to meet him.ched the table, standing and almost reaching out his hand as if expecting to shake with someone important.

“Q!”

Her smile was beatific, and even with as long as it had been since they'd seen each other, Quentin still found a warmth rising up within him at the sight of his...friend? Acquaintance? Former neighbour? What were they, now? He got up just in time to be nearly knocked over by the force of her hug, and he reciprocated the gesture, feeling her warmth against him. A familiar, comforting, and disquieting feeling.

“It’s been too long!”

He drew apart, taking her in. It wasn't as if she hadn't aged a day, but Quentin had always found her attractive. Very much so, in her stylish dress, the six inch heels she'd chosen to complement her outfit...and her hair was down. He'd always loved it when her hair was down, both to tug it when they were little kids running around the backyard, to admire it when he got older, and how he'd longed to-

"On that, we can agree." He said calmly, motioning to a seat across from him. The table had been set for two, and for business, it was proper protocol for the two to sit across from each other. But was this a meeting for business? "It's good to see you, Ren." Even as he said it, and still felt some of the pain that had accompanied their interactions during the last ten years, he meant it.

"I didn't know you were in New York." He grabbed a menu, opening it even as he already knew what he was ordering at a place like this. "Last I heard, you were in California...."

 

[AnyOtherName]

Embracing Q...it was more than dreams could have ever prepared her. He had always lived in her mind, ever more so by the day, particularly over the last several years. Ren had imagined this moment countless times but...to actually hold him; to breathe in his scent, feel the press of his hard body through their clothing...it felt right. She tightened the wrappings of her arms, briefly squeezing him in the moment before they drew apart.

A brilliant smile returned to her as he spoke, grateful that he seemed glad, or at least okay, to see her. Following the gesture of his hand, she seated herself across from him, her eyes unwilling to tear away from his face.

"It's good to see you, too," she responded sincerely.

"I didn't know you were in New York," he spoke before opening a menu. "Last I heard, you were in California..."

"I hope you're not upset that I didn't call. I wanted to surprise you." She'd pause only long enough to offer a sheepish smile. "I guess making an appointment under a pseudo name might've been a little far but it seemed like a good idea at the time..."

Her heart was pounding, the sound of it filling her ears.

"I just needed to see you in person. I've missed you, Q." An unmistakable sadness came to her eyes. "I owe you an apology, and I'm sorry that I didn't see it sooner, but...I'm here to try to earn your forgiveness."

 

[Bevatoria]

He wasn't foolish enough to have missed how long that Serenity had lingered in his arms, pressed herself against him just a little more then she had in their previous few encounters since that night. It spoke to Quentin's current state of mind - his enduring state of mind, were he to be completely honest - that he even noticed it. Why was he even thinking about it? Thinking about her, his mind racing even as they sat there, as she responded to him. He heard her words, processed them, but his mind was elsewhere. The truth was, he hadn't stopped thinking about her, either. Maybe not since that night. Maybe not since they'd met each other. Was everything he was doing now a cover, a distraction to keep him from reflecting on what it was he really wanted?

"I hope you're not upset that I didn't call. I wanted to surprise you." She smiled sheepishly, continuing even s his thoughts raced. If she'd wanted to surprise him, mission accomplished. "I guess making an appointment under a pseudo name might've been a little far but it seemed like a good idea at the time..."

A lot of things seemed like good ideas before and when they happened. If nothing else, their history together was proof of that. The one thing Quentin had thought was a good idea had been the thing that had ended up tearing them apart. It wasn't the straw that broke the camel's back, more the fuse that ended up being lit in the wrong area. Quentin looked at her, saw her uneasiness, her sadness, her hesitation. That wasn't Ren, but it was what she was around him now. What he was around her, too. Words that came so easily, so effortlessly in business meetings and casual social dinners with friends were failing him now, but he had to say something. Anything.

"Well, I'm here." His tone was neutral; neither dismissive, nor accepting, as Quentin flipped the menu closed. "You didn't need to..." He stopped himself. Would he had come to see her if she'd straight up called him? If she hadn't gone behind everyone's back, to trick him into thinking this was a business call and not an unexpected reunion? Quentin had to admit that, with how things were between them now, this was probably the only way he would've come here willingly. Seeing her at Christmas, with tons of other people around and close by, was entirely different then sitting across from her at a restuarant table, where even with the folks swishing around them, they were alone, their attention only on each other.

And a fair amount of his was on her. She was still beautiful; even more so, were he to be honest. It made the part of his heart that would still admit feeling for her ache a little more, wondering at the life they could've had together. His sentence went unfinished, unsure, uneasy behind his perfect suit and well practiced manners as Ren continued.

"I just needed to see you in person. I've missed you, Q." The sadness in her eyes was evident, and even as his own expression softened a little, Quentin only tilted his head a little as she continued. "I owe you an apology, and I'm sorry that I didn't see it sooner, but...I'm here to try to earn your forgiveness."

Her choice of words was interesting. Not the 'forgiveness' part, but the 'earn' part. "You don't..." he stopped, seeing the waitress come their way to take their drink orders. "Just water for me, please. And bring by a bottle of the house red." He let Ren make her order, and then as the waitress walked away, he continued his statement.

"Ren....you don't need to earn my forgiveness." His voice, while confident, was still low, and dark, his eyes darting downwards for an instant as he drummed his fingers on the table uncertainly. "You've always had it." His reassuring words did not bring with them a lightening of his tone, and clarity would come as he continued.

"But...it's one thing to say sorry. It's another to...." Again, an unfamiliar bend of emotions and confusion started to well up, and Quentin bit it back stiffly as he leaned forward, lowering his voice as if others would be listening in. Nobody did, and nobody cared, their world now just the two of them on this patio, the sounds of the outside world reflecting off of them. "...I guess what I really want to know is - what is it you really want, Ren?"

If she still felt like she had to atone for what had happened between them, he'd let her. But even through the veil that had darkened both of them, Quentin still had a soft spot for his Ren. It remained to be seen if that soft spot would let her back in, or if it would just let her find her peace.

He'd settle for finding his.

 

[AnyOtherName]

Quentin began to speak but was cut short by the appearance of their waitress. Despite the interruption that the other woman posed, Ren offered a polite smile and spoke in a friendly tone when it was her turn to order. "Water for me, as well. Thanks."

The dark haired woman shifted her attention back to her companion as the server departed. When he said that she didn't need to earn his forgiveness, her mind panicked. She couldn't help but assume the worst: that he'd deem her efforts as futile from the start. She'd had her chance, hadn't she? And what had she done with it?

-----

Though Ren didn't date while she lived at home, she gave in to social pressure and did go to prom. With Q, of course.

He could’ve taken any girl from their class. He was gorgeous, intelligent... But instead of taking someone that would be guaranteed to put out, he agreed to take the raven-haired and blue eyed beauty that had never shown even the slightest sexual inclination in him.

“Please?” she had asked with a pout. “I was invited by Luke, but... You know, I don’t really feel like getting molested.”

Quentin didn’t really resist, even though the deal couldn’t possibly get any worse for him.

Take me to prom but don’t touch me. What a magical night!

Ren understood the steepness of her request. She knew she was being unfair to Quentin and she did it anyway.

And then he had gone and pulled a daring twist. Ren had expected a corsage, maybe, at best. Quentin knew their night wasn’t going to be romantic, right? But when he arrived at her house to pick her up... He had rented a limo, which he wasn’t sharing with any other couples, and he was armed with not only the most beautiful corsage Ren had seen in her entire life, but was also equipped with a dozen red roses.

“Oh my god, Q,” she lifted a hand to cover her mouth, which hung open in surprise, as she approached him. Her eyes rose to his face. A light flush burned into her features. “This is...this is all for me?”

He smiled confidently. “I wouldn’t go through this much trouble for anyone else.”

Ren felt the sting of tears. “Q...”

Marge started taking pictures.

“Mom, please!” Ren looked at the woman wrathfully.

“Sorry, honey. But Liz is going to want to see this!”

Ren shook her head and focused her attention on her date for the evening. At least the distraction of her mother had stopped her from crying. She gave Quentin a soft smile. “Thank you,” she spoke sincerely as she reached out to take the offered bouquet of roses. She cradled it in the nook of one arm as her best friend moved to place the corsage on her wrist.

Click. Click. Click.

Ren focused everything she had to ignore her mother and the camera.

Quentin’s hands slipped from her wrist, trailing down to take her hand. His expression when he lifted his eyes to meet hers, it made her heart stop.

Click. Click. Click.

She wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t the first time, certainly. But it was the first time that she actually considered following through with the impulse. Before, she had been able to remind herself of everything that would be at risk. Quentin was her best friend, and the potential of losing him because she was dumb enough to make things complicated between them...

Click! Click! Click!

Was that shit getting louder? Ren seemed to snap out of her trance. “Let’s get out of here,” she urged, her unheld hand pushing impatiently at Quentin’s chest.

-----

The memories manifested in less than a second - next that she was aware Quinten cast his eyes downwards. In what hindsight had determined to be the moment that she fucked everything up so miserably, the moment that she had stomped on her best friend's heart...he had looked away from her just so. She didn't deserve his forgiveness.

"You've always had it."

A surge of happiness struck her, though she did not smile. The emotion was in contention with her guilt and the seriousness in which she was taking the present conversation. She continued to listen intently and silently.

He spoke, then stopped himself mid-sentence. His sudden pause caused for Ren to further blame herself for his disquiet, aware that her presence alone was the equivalence of emotional torture. He leaned forward, speaking in low voice. "...I guess what I really want to know is - what is it you really want, Ren?"

She stared into his eyes, hoping that for the first time in ten years they could hold each other's gaze. Without hesitation she responded to his question. "You."

The statement hung in the air as she matched his position, leaning over the table just slightly. A hand reached for his, aimed to gently rest on top while her slender fingers wrapped around to touch his palm. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, that every morning she woke and knew that he was missing. But it would all be too much, too soon. "I've taken a job here and I'm in the presently process of moving. I'd be lying if I said my decision was motivated by anything other than a want to be with you."

She gave a hopeful smile. "If you'd do me the honor, I'd love to take you out on a date."

 

[Bevatoria]

It wasn't as much the moment between his question and the answer that stretched out as it was the moment after she said the word. They were both processing it; Quentin wasn't looking at Serenity but knew that she was.

"You."

But it was his own mind that seemed to hang back, hearing the word that he'd longed to hear. Not now, of course; even in the relatively short amount of time he'd had to ponder this meeting, that his former best friend was here, now, talking to him, Quentin hadn't hoped to hear that answer now. But as time seemed to slow down, he thought back to a time where he *had* hoped to hear those words...had been trying to coax them out of her...

******

As his hand had slipped over her wrist, corsage in hand, he effortlessly hid the tension and excitement racing through his heart. It didn't show, but he'd almost made a game of this night, this whole evening. Not that he wasn't taking it seriously; if anything, Quentin was taking this more seriously then he had anything in his life.

She'd asked him to the prom, in a way, and he'd said yes, even through her protestations that he was taking her because he wouldn't make a move on her. Which he wouldn't. He was always the gentleman, the shoulder to cry on who got closer to the black haired beauty then any guy in the school ever could. But as he prepared for the evening, the many evenings, weekends, and odd hours spent working to make enough money for this, he wanted to see just how far he could go for the girl who'd told him she would never be his.

A limo? Sure. But not one to be shared with overeager classmates who just wanted to get plastered when the prom was over.

One flower? Pfft. Amateurs.

And did she think this was just any tuxedo he had gotten? No, he'd made enough to have his *pick* of whatever the shop had. Well, the pick of anything that didn't hit four digits. Still, while many couldn't tell the difference between his and the next guys' outfit, it was still effort he felt obliged to take. Because she'd notice it. She had to.

As the all too many photos clicked off, he wondered what she was thinking as he took her hand. She'd been easy enough for him to read, but as their eyes met, and he saw her lean forward - for the picture - he was convinced - for the first time in a while, he couldn't get a read on her.

It wouldn't be the last time that evening, either.

******

It was her hand on his, clasping it and her fingernails brushing her palm that drew him out. Quentin came to with a start, even as he turned slowly to see the emotion in her eyes - the concoction of fear, hurt, curiousity and...love? - as she continued. "I've taken a job here and I'm in the presently process of moving. I'd be lying if I said my decision was motivated by anything other than a want to be with you."

From anyone else, it would sound like they were stalking him. But even with as little as they'd really spoken over the past ten years in anything other then cliche, Quentin knew she was serious. She'd thought this through. You didn't move everything you had and change your job on a simple impulse. She could find guys better then him effortlessly, he knew, even as a single, scarred part of him knew he could never do better then her.

"Ren...." He started, unsure of what to say, the confident wheeler and dealer having long since evaporated. Serenity had never known that side of him, had never gotten to see that during their few scattered meetings in their old neighborhoods when their families met during Christmas. "...I...I don't know what to say." Honesty seemed to be the order of the day.

Her look in return was hopeful, wanting. "If you'd do me the honor, I'd love to take you out on a date." If her last statement had befuddled him, this one had him...it wasn't as if it wasn't the logical progression, but he was still going through her last statement. She'd moved her to be with him, and after five minutes, wanted to take him on a date? With a breath, and a shifting of his hand (although not a retreating of it), he started to respond, the moment stretching on. Maybe it was minutes, or just seconds, but the return of the red haired waitress - with their drinks - spurred him back to reality. His had all but lurched back, as if he was uncomfortable with the prospect of her touching him. He already knew what he wanted, but knew that Serenity might need a bit more time.

"Penne all'arrabbiata." He said effortlessly; it felt like a day for something spicy, and it had been a while since he'd been in the mood for such a dish, as he looked at Serenity. "I can recommend something for you, if you'd like..." It was a daring move by him, as if he still had any idea what she liked.

But it would say something to her, depending what it was she was looking for.

 

[AnyOtherName]

“Of course,” Ren responded in an easy tone as she sat upright. Her hand retreated to lightly touch the cover of the menu, which she hadn’t so much as glanced at, tracing the beveled letters with her fingertips. A single pass over Juliano’s and her hand withdrew completely, as if fearing to show the restlessness the loss of Quentin’s touch caused her. “I trust your judgement,” a soft smile followed her statement.

She continued to watch him, amazed at the features she already knew so well. He was the standard of beauty; an entire childhood and adolescence spent secretly admiring Q had convinced her of it. And now – now he was simply incomparable, even to himself.

The last five years Ren had done little else but think of him, miss him, and regret that she had allowed her fear to tear them apart. It was only through college and one year in the real world that she was able to continue convincing herself that she had acted in both of their best interests'.

-----

The evening at prom couldn’t have been more perfect. At every turn Quentin managed to swoon his date, through a series of gentlemanly gestures and sweetness and charm. Serenity had always known that he could have made her incredibly happy, always suspected that he was the one…but that was precisely why she was so afraid. But somewhere in that perfect night she was blinded by everything she felt for him, everything he so obviously felt for her.

She had always loved him, and not at all like family or a friend. But the very first time one of their mothers suggested that they’d grow up to marry… Maybe it had been a defensive impulse, Ren failed to reason it exactly, she wrinkled her nose and said “we’re just friends” as if she had taken true offense to the prospect. Since then it was more of the same.

Until that night.

Serenity had been awe-struck during their ride to the event and remained quiet and reflective, almost distant. But as they pulled up to the outside of the gymnasium, she suddenly smiled and placed a hand on Quentin’s thigh. “Thank you, Q,” she spoke simply. She followed her words with a kiss on his cheek.

Both of her hands took to his wrist, leading him excitedly into the cool night air. Once outside she clung to his arm like a schoolgirl with her first lover – which, truthfully, Quentin should have been. The entire evening Ren could only think so much and acted accordingly, her eyes dazzling with the love she held for him without the barrier of concerns for the future. Their friends took the opportunity to tease the couple, reminding them both that they were “just friends” – to which Ren would laugh and admit that she had always been wrong.

…She wasn’t sure how the turnabout came. But it did. At the most inopportune time possible.

The end of the festivities brought the two back to their privately rented limo – and within seconds of the door closing behind them, Ren found herself straddling Quentin’s lap, kissing him open-mouthed with reckless abandon. A hand cupped the side of his face, the other worked through his hair, her kiss deep and passionate as her hips teasingly moved over him. When it was that she pulled back, several minutes later, she had already removed Quentin’s jacket and loosened his tie and was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt. She leaned back slightly as she reached for the zipper of her dress. A smile as she paused and brought her hands back to her date’s chest, leaning into him once again.

“Take off my dress,” she purred as she placed her lips at his earlobe, which she suckled and playfully nipped. The feel of him as he reached around her, the sound of the zipper as it dropped…Ren felt a deep flush overtake her face as her lustful juices seeped into her panties.

“I want you so badly,” she continued as she assisted in removing the dress entirely. Underneath she was wearing a white lace lingerie set, complete with garter belt and stockings. The bra barely contained her heavy breasts, the panties a thong with embroidered roses along the front. It was quickly obvious that she had selected the set with the specific thought of Quentin seeing them, even before she knew what sort of night he had planned for them. Though it had only been a fantasy, not something she actually expected to happen, women were often more prepared than one might think – even on the slightest of chances.

They continued to make-out for several more minutes before Ren began crawling off of his lap. Her knees rested on the floor of the limo, her hands trailing down his bare chest and toned stomach. Her fingers curled around the band of his pants as she kissed her way down his flesh, her grip pulling lightly as if she might rip off the remainder of his clothing.

But as her fingers went to work unbuckling his belt, her heart sank.

She had many fears in regard to Quentin, though only two that struck her in that moment. Firstly, she worried of what a romantic, or even just physical, relationship would do to their existing friendship. She couldn’t lose Q, didn’t want to bitter things between them if it didn’t work out. Secondly, she feared becoming her mother. A longer story, certainly: but suffice it to say that she knew the depths of her love for Quentin, and if she had him…would she be able to let go? Could she make a future for herself, or would find all the contentment she needed with him? Would she give up on college, because she couldn’t bear to be that far from her love? Would she have his child, and live only to serve the family?

She sat back on her heels, looking up at Quentin with remorse. “We can’t do this.”

-----

Ren hated those memories the most and yet she relived them every day. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have not seen what would become of them?

She hadn’t really been listening to whatever it was that Quentin recommended for her. Without thought, she’d simply agree; what she was going to eat for lunch was truly of very little concern. She watched as the waitress concluded taking their order and turned to leave, her eyes returning to Q.

 

[Bevatoria]

He only inclined his head at her response, looking back at the waitress. "Chicken Linguini Alfredo for the lady." Quentin closed his menu effortlessly, still keeping his gaze on their server a moment longer as the took their menus, before looking back at Serenity. Their wine would come soon (a Chianti, he knew, that being the wine of choice), and he didn't want to wait for it to break the tension that had come over them; the unanswered response to her question. She wanted to take him out on a date. Quentin wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. Her sincerity, he didn't doubt; everything she'd told him so far was too bold to be a lie. Why would she have come all the way out here, per herself together so perfectly, just to deceive him?

Then again, one didn't have to lie to deceive, he knew.

******

The whole evening had been torturous for him. It had been magnificent for him.

Quentin had gotten more then one mumbled, jealous expletive thrown his way for every 'congratulations' and 'attaboy' glance he'd gotten from his friends. It wasn't just that he 'had' Serenity that seemed to rile many of his classmates...but that he was acting perfectly around her. No pulling her too close during the dances, or spinning her too fast, or kissing her one time too many. He'd been the perfect gentleman all evening, and they'd all been waiting for him to slip up, so they could swoop in and take her.

But he'd prepared for this day too long. Even though he didn't have a chance, he as treating it as if it was his only chance to prove to this girl - this woman - that she would find love and care unmatched if she'd just throw herself into his arms. Still, no dice. And she was his friend, and always would be, as far as Quentin was concerned. He wouldn't ruin it by forcing himself on her, even as his heart ached to tell her his true feelings.

Her small peck on his cheek at the beginning of the night did him no favors. He smiled at it, treated it like nothing even as he promised not to forget the feeling of her lips on his cheek, a few treasured moments where he could imagine they did end up together. She clung closely to him, danced with him, and then on the way to the limo, Quentin could feel his chest tightening. Their evening was going to end soon, too soon, and he'd have to keep his feelings inside. Just like always. Because he didn't want to hurt her.

Which is why he was more then a little startled when, upon their re-entrance to their 'carriage' near the end of the evening, Quentin didn't even get to signal the driver to pull away after the door closed. Her lips were on his, and he didn't fight his instinctive reaction to draw himself into her, his hands reacting naturally as they went to her back, softly to feel her skin on her neck. He was more vulnerable then she knew, and all of the effort he was putting into holding back meant that any forward action her part meant he would be lost.

But for a lost man, Quentin was enjoying this moment so. Their bodies molded together naturally, and he felt her hands running through his hair, his jacket, undressing his torso. It might have been seconds, or hours, but when their lips finally pulled back, he took in a breath, seeing the desire and need in his eyes reflected in her own.

No. Ignited in her own. She wanted this more then he did. He couldn't say anything, didn't dare say anything, but luckily, she did.

"Take off my dress." Eager, impatient hands went to the top of her, his hands running across her smooth skin as he hurriedly undressed her, his eyes widening at the sight of her in her skimpy lingerie. Chosen perfectly for him, even as he didn't realize she had done this with him in mind.

“I want you so badly.”

"So do I." He responded, and they kissed eagerly for several more moments, the heat of their bodies rubbing together fueling Quentin's lust, and as he felt her move down his body towards his arousal, he took a moment to wonder how this had all come about, where it would go, how this had happened. He could tell her he loved her, that he'd always wanted her, that-

“We can’t do this.”

The moment was so intense, so powerful that it took Quentin a moment to realize that she'd stopped everything.

For someone who'd taken so many precautions against getting hurt, it seemed like she had no problems with doing the hurting herself.

******

It wasn't a memory he enjoyed revisiting, but as he took her in again, Quentin couldn't help but imagine how different her body would feel pressed against him now...her longer hair, her fuller body against his stronger one.

"I can't let you take me on a date, Ren." He replied softly, slowly. His tone belied the one he'd had that night, the words he'd said right after she'd taken him to the bring and then abruptly pulled away. But even as he hesitated, there was a difference in the words he spoke now. For all of the things she probably did know about him, Serenity would also remember that he did have a flair for the dramatic.

"...after all..." His eyes rose to look up at her again. "...while I haven't been here long, either, I don't go somewhere without knowing it inside and out." He couldn't quite hide the smile that took his face as he continued. "So, if you really want to see me, I'm afraid I'll have to be the one taking you on a date." He didn't even give a sideways glance to their wine arriving at the table, as a glass was poured for him. "If you can spare time from whatever you had planned this afternoon, anyways...."

Sure, it would be trouble for him to clear his schedule...but not that much. After all, how could he do any less for his former best friend?

Even as he smiled, settling in just a little bit, he couldn't help but wonder if he was just putting on a front to avoid getting hurt again.

 

[AnyOtherName]

His response made her heart stop. A hopelessness gripped her, like it had so many times in nightmares - she prepared for the manifestation of her worst fear: Quentin's rejection. But as the pause persisted it was almost as if there was a spark in the air. A hope that, as much as she had fucked up...it wasn't over.

"After all..." his eyes rose to meet hers. She soaked in his depth of his voice as he continued to speak, marveled at sheer thrill of holding his gaze. As he smiled the last of her tension melted away. He counter offered that he take her on a date.

Her lips curved to a gentle smile. He was sweet, whether his motives were romantic or obligatory. Serenity couldn't tell which it was.

"If you can spare time from whatever you had planned this afternoon, anyways...."

The woman showed a momentary surprise, her brows arching gracefully upward. Never had she imagined that he'd clear his schedule for her. Without even a moment's notice, no less. "Of course, I'd like nothing more."

It felt surreal. There was a certain levity to her spirit that she had thought was long lost to time; something akin to a schoolgirl out growing her giddiness. But Quentin's mere presence, even as they delved into such exciting conversations as telling each other about their work and giving updates on family and friends, was...right. The way he talked, his mannerisms, everything about him...it was all just perfect.

Too perfect to risk ruining again.

As they approached the end of their meals, Serenity took a drink and gave Quentin an appreciative look. As she lowered her glass she glanced at it in a moment of reflection, though her gaze returned to Quentin before she could give herself too much time to think.

"When is the last time you took a half day from work?" she asked with glint in her eye. It wasn't that she wanted him to confirm that she was special, or point out that Quentin worked harder than the majority of the population - she was merely setting up for further comment. As she listened to his answer she couldn't hide the playfulness from her expression. She honestly didn't know what to expect for an answer: he could've taken time off yesterday, for all she knew, or just last week. But whether his answer fell in the realm of 'not a big deal' to the more expected months to years, Ren's response would be the same.

"When one skips out on work they're obligated to enjoy themselves as much as possible." The rules were similar to what they had been for ditching school, apparently; though the tone in which it was delivered was entirely different. No longer did it sound like a pretense to teenage chaos but rather a smoldering suggestion.

As marvelous as an afternoon date sounded Ren felt it was time to up the ante. An entire life of wanting Quentin, the self-induced (and tragically inflicted) pain of denying her feelings for him for so long...

"Q," she spoke his name in a tone subtly laced with lust. She did not lean forward over the table or whisper, seemingly as unconcerned with those surrounding them as the could-be spectators were disinterested. "I think our time would be best spent alone." The rounded toe of a gray shoe made contact with his leg, sweeping under the cuff of his pants to stroke lightly above his ankle. As she watched for his reaction she couldn't help but imagine his striped chest; she had felt the hardness of his body through their clothing, marveled at how well he had kept himself. "I came here to see you, after all, not New York."

She gave a mischievous grin that would call back to her youth, an expression Quentin would know to associate with bravado. "If you're not sick of me by this evening, we could simply postpone our date. In the meantime..." Serenity was hesitant to invite herself to his place, bold as she might be, so the suggestion was left to linger.

 

[Bevatoria]

"Great." Of course she'd like nothing more if she was a crazy stalker person who'd come here to ruin Quentin and rip his heart out, but looking into her calm, caring eyes, he found the gentle aura radiating out from her, as it always had, and he brought no more thoughts towards her not being genuine. It didn't meant that they'd find the spark that they'd once had, but maybe her being her was enough, and let him start the healing process from all of the bad relationships he'd had over the past few years, not the least of which was his failed marriage that had caused him to pour everything he had into hardening himself...both in his company, and the body that, he had to admit, was a fine piece of work, even if it was made out of anger rather then real self interest.

Not that Serenity was lacking of a body herself. Even as they spoke, minutes turning into two hours as they caught up on the many things they couldn't catch up on during awkward conversation at Christmas time, although he strangely didn't talk much about the real reason he'd come here. Dancing around it, saying it was opportunity for business...which it was...and they still didn't have the check, Quentin's signal for it seeming to bring a rise out of her.

"When is the last time you took a half day from work?" Her grin and the mischievous glint in his eye didn't tip him off at first, as he calmly responded. "Well, since I'm the boss, I don't take many - the last time I took an unscheduled half day was...probably a couple years ago." Jerry had been in town, and Quentin hadn't seen him in years.

"When one skips out on work they're obligated to enjoy themselves as much as possible." Again, an innocent comment on its own that hinted at something greater that Quentin was still oblivious to, even as the back of his brain started to put two and two together. "Well, if one's playing hooky, I suppose..." He had done it before, and as the man in charge he was more then entitled to it. Her gaze seemed to linger on him a moment too long, and it was a moment later that everything started to make sense.
duced (and tragically inflicted) pain of denying her feelings for him for so long...

"Q,"

That didn't do it, as Quentin did not recognize the undertone of lust in her voice, having never heard it from her towards him. It was the touch of her shoe against his foot, at first startling as he flinched, but then less so as the stub of the toe pointed up his ankle, rubbing it as she talked. "I think our time would be best spent alone." It took Quentin effort to try to keep a straight face, his expression breaking just a little - as she probably wanted - as she finished. "I came here to see you, after all, not New York."

Her grin spurred him, and his own light smile accompanied her brazenness. At first nervous at the prospect, when it became clear what she was alluding to - what she'd been hinting at over the past several minutes - he felt almost a giddiness at the prospect. No, she didn't just want to come up and watch a movie, she wanted to-

But was it right? Would Quentin only be taking advantage of someone who seemed to be obsessed with him? Just because they both wanted it - and fully in the moment now, he would admit that she was incredibly attractive. Enticing. Her dress flattered her form well, and the amount of skin she was showing off, her toned arms, the way her chest heaved under the garment...

"Well," He started. "Who am I to keep someone from what they want?" The statement, even as it came out evenly, caused a bit of a stir in him as he remembered the last evening she'd kept them both from what they wanted. Still, this was a different moment, and he let her continue as she grinned at him in an expression he found all too familiar.

"If you're not sick of me by this evening, we could simply postpone our date. In the meantime..." She hesitated, and Quentin knew why. He hadn't said a lot to her since she'd suggested they do something else this afternoon, and why would he? Physically, he was eager, but mentally, he was still seeing the limo, the moment she'd taken the lead before and then stopped just on the brink of something special. It had been ten years since then. Had things really changed enough for the healing to begin?

As he took her in, his eyes lingering on her feminine form, he convinced himself that maybe when they got to his place, they could talk. Picking up his phone, his eyes never left hers as he made a quick call. "Eileen?" His tone made it clear this was not his...well, other. He'd already mentioned he was single to Serenity, if not the 'recently recovering' part. "No. No deal. But I'll be out for the rest of the day." With a quick snap, and the check at their table, he motioned to her. "C'mon. I'll take you back to my place...show you that I've really made it."

That I'm worthy of you.

The ride back to his place was filled with casual conversation, but laced with tension. He lived in an upscale apartment building, on a high floor with a great view, like any successful New Yorker did. He pulled his car - a deep blue Mercedes with ridiculous accents - into his spot, not quite fast enough to open Serenity's door as they walked into the elevator to ride way up to his floor.

 

[AnyOtherName]

"Who am I to keep someone from what they want?" Serenity felt a slight sting at that but only a millisecond of a wince proceeded her brave grin and follow-up.

His response was to watch her for several moments, no doubt uncertain if he should trust or want her advances. But it was with that in mind that Ren couldn't afford to be anything but direct. She wanted Quentin's heart as much as she lusted for his body; and given their history, she knew that his mind would be working against her. As well it should be, in interest of self-preservation. Though she meant no harm now, neither had she in the past...

He picked up his phone, dialing and lifting the device to his ear without so much as looking at it. Serenity continued to hold his gaze, her grin softening to a smile as she listened to him formally clear his schedule.

"C'mon. I'll take you back to my place...show you that I've really made it."

For a moment she was uncertain how to respond. Of course she was more than ecstatic to receive the invitation, it was with the second part that threw her off. A sudden realization: Quentin had money. Whereas most would consider this fact a supreme benefit, Ren felt dread. Somehow it felt like something that might be used against her at some point, if only to question her motives. Which would be an insult to her character, of course, and not something she could take easily.

You're getting ahead of yourself.

"Thanks," she managed to choke out at length. "For lunch, and the invitation."

She tried to keep the conversation light during the ride - as did Quentin. Both seemed to be somewhat preoccupied with their own thoughts, making small talk for only the sake of chasing away awkward silences. For her own part, Serenity was distracted by the pounding of her heart, the restlessness of her mind in mapping out what she'd do once she was alone with Q in his apartment.

The time was approaching. Quentin parked and Ren exited the car at nearly the exact moment he did, the idea of letting him get the door not even occurring to her. She smiled as he came around the Mercedes and followed him to the elevator.

He pressed a button and it lit up in response, a chime sounding. Serenity braced herself along the railing of the elevator while trying to look as if she wasn't really concerned; but the initial jolt of the ride caused her to close her eyes and take a deep breath. She wasn't afraid of elevators, really - they just made her feel a little queasy. Not enough to make her sick, just enough to make her look silly, but thankfully it did not last the entire duration. It was something reserved for the moments of starting and stopping.

After a couple of seconds she reopened her eyes. Casting a sheepish smile in Quentin's direction, she remarked, "You know, at least half of my workout routine involves climbing stairwells." She let go of the railing, as if to prove that she was all right. Sure enough, she seemed steady once the momentum became the norm. "I'd have thought I would grow out of my elevator thing...but I suppose my avoidance tactic hasn't exactly helped. At least it keeps me in shape," she gave a slight shrug. Even as a child Ren had shown a strange dislike of mechanical means of travel within buildings - she suspected the escalator wanted to catch a shoelace or pant leg and murder her, though she'd ride it she always way over stepped the cracks at the beginning and end (and looked about as silly as she did going weak in an elevator). In their hometown it hadn't been a common problem, not anything like the cities of California and New York, perhaps only being prevalent on mall excursions.

Serenity glanced at the numbers above the sliding door, noting that they were nearly to their destination. Rather than take to the railing she leaned gently against Quentin, her head resting on his shoulder as an arm wrapped around his lower back. After the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, she regained herself and started to move away - though her hand trailed over his back as she retreated and found it's way to take his hand.

It wasn't but a moment before they were in his apartment. Upon entering Ren merely gleamed the surroundings; the main room was nearly as large as an entire floor of her former house in Pasadena and she could only imagine what spaces remained hidden. First impression was that Quentin either: A) had far better decorative tastes than her or B) had paid one hell of a designer. The place was refined and immaculate. It could have easily featured in a magazine.

"Wow, Q, your place is gorgeous," she complimented sincerely before turning to face him. "Looks like a 'take your shoes off at the door' residence if I've ever seen one..." A manner Ren's mother had harped about relentlessly. The dark haired woman reached up a hand, her palm cupping Quentin's jawline. In the very next moment she was leaning forward, her lips seeking to find his. A tender kiss, blazing with restrained desire, to which Serenity failed to stifle a low moan. Her body pressed against his, remaining so even after she withdrew from their kiss.

"But if you don't mind, I'd very much like to wear my heels...you've always seemed to like them." Her hand trailed down the side of his throat, tracing along his collarbone to the second button of his black dress shirt. As she undid it, she shifted her gaze to meet his, offering a daring smile.

 

[Bevatoria]

The moment seemed to weigh heavily as he hit the button to let the lift take them to their floor; Serenity seemed a little thrown off by it, and it was at that moment he remembered her dislike for elevators. It brought him a bit of a smile, even as he knew there was little they could do about it unless they wanted to walk up close to twenty flights of stairs to his floor. He'd paid for the high rise apartment and even though he *could* do it, it wouldn't make a lot of sense to do so. "Sorry." Quentin watched her close her eyes, apparently taking some effort to reopen them as she spoke.

"You know, at least half of my workout routine involves climbing stairwells." He watched her slender hand lose its seemingly iron grip on the railing as she continued while they continued their ascent. "I'd have thought I would grow out of my elevator thing...but I suppose my avoidance tactic hasn't exactly helped. At least it keeps me in shape."

Wonderful shape. Quentin used the distraction to steal a glance at her long, toned legs, the way her heels framed her calves and how her skirt swished about. "Almost there." He said reassuringly, as if she couldn't see the numbers increasing towards the fourteenth floor, where his residence awaited them. But the silence made him uneasy, time alone with his jumbling thoughts a curse to counter the blessing of Serenity's body molding into his ever so slightly, holding onto him as if he would keep her steady. He accepted it without thinking, her touch bringing back pleasant memories and the one painful one that marred them all.

As the doors opened, she seemed understandably eager to get out of the elevator, even as her hand gripped his. He squeezed it, but didn't hold onto it, letting their fingertips mingle as they made their way down the hall. Quentin still wasn't sure he was comfortable with the notion of....them, even if their physical chemistry seemed to be reforming, coalescing right before his eyes.

The click of the key in his bright white door preceded him opening the door to his lavish, open apartment. It opened straight into space, his closet right in front of him, where he moved to leave his keys and suit jacket. To the right, his main living room with hardwood floors, an obscenely large TV, and space. Lots of space. His bedroom was off to the left, and his furniture was mostly white and deliberately placed colors to highlight certain features and make the room look neat.

Quentin definitely hadn't designed it, although he had picked it out. Someone as rich as he was....

"Wow, Q, your place is gorgeous," Serenity had taken a few steps in, and Quentin turned to face her as she continued. "Looks like a 'take your shoes off at the door' residence if I've ever seen one..." The moment seemed to pause as one of her hands moved to cup his jaw, and before he could tense, pull away, or even do anything her soft lips were pressed against his. It was a tentative kiss, but even in it he could feel her ache for more as she moaned against him. Their bodies molded together effortlessly, and it was in that moment Quentin found himself hesitating. She felt so natural against him, as if she was supposed to be there, but Quentin knew that physical desire could do strange things to people.

"But if you don't mind, I'd very much like to wear my heels...you've always seemed to like them." As...alluring as her shoes made her, the fact she was wearing them was the last thing on his mind right now. Without any conscious thought, his hands moved to pull her a little closer as he felt Serenity explore his body, a slight gasp...or hiss, depending who you asked...escaping him. Her touch was warm, welcoming, and so incredibly wanted as her fingers danced across his jaw and collar. There was a difference between being with someone and being with someone, and Quentin could feel so much then. How long it had been since he'd had any kind of real, intimate relationship, his long departed fiancee having left him with so much...the way she looked up at him, her nimble fingers undoing a button, seeking permission for more as her eyes met his. Her smile...that radiant, blinding look that so many had wanted to see from her, that he'd desperately needed to see from her ten years ago, showing the want, the lust that his eyes had echoed to her once. That his heart had held in, right on the precipice of having everything he'd ever wanted from her, that she'd almost given to him but then had pulled back for the 'good' of their relationship.

A relationship that had been damaged almost beyond repair in that moment, and that now stood at another precipice. Weakly, Quentin leaned in but his body took over, his mind driving his lips to not talk, but to press into hers again for a deeper, more hungry kiss, pushing into her as one hand squeezed her shoulder near the back of her dress, the other one running lower, down her lower back to her firm ass, forcing her skirt up just a little.

Serenity's lips tasted like a nectar he didn't want to stop having, and it took every little ounce of control to not keep at her like he had in the limo, a deep breath escaping him as their faces stayed millimetres away, his voice a whisper. "Are you...sure, Ren?" He asked weakly, barely able to hold back, just wanting to give in, consequences be damned.

Quentin couldn't find it in him to smile at her now. Whatever expression he had was some mixture of desperation, lust, and repressed desire that was going to pour out of him, one way or the other, as he nearly trembled at the feel of her body still pressed into his. He didn't know if she moved first or if he did, but what he did know was that a moment later he was kissing her again, hard, and what little control he had tried to exercise was slipping away.

He wasn't sure where he was pushing her towards. Or if she was leading him somewhere in their awkward mingling of desire. But he was staying close to Serenity, and even as he felt her trying to undress him, his own fumbling hands couldn't seem to make up their minds in their confusion; even as they felt for her dress's zipper, one shoulder strap had already been pulled down her shoulder as he yearned to figure out every secret her body had to hide from him, to touch her soft flesh and feel her heat against him, skin on skin.

 

[AnyOtherName]

His reaction to her touch was all that she had ever dreamed; the nightmares in which he pulled away from her with revulsion seemed unwarranted now, though she always suspected it was a reflection device of her subconscious rather than a foretelling. In that vein it could never be taken for granted. The way he had made her feel: the stab of rejection, even from a version of him that she knew wasn't real... She couldn't rightly say that she understood what she had put Quentin through but she was beginning to be able to imagine.

He drew her in, gasped. As she looked up at him she knew that his body would loathe to deny her, but in his eyes he betrayed nothing. The moment felt like a pause in existence.

It was wrong of her, to bring him again to the brink of an emotional cliff. Whereas she could've simply let him know that she was here, given him the time and space to process how he felt about it...let him choose whether she was worth unburying the pain, tearing out the sutures... Instead, she proved to herself once again that she was selfish and unworthy of the man before her. A small part of her nearly hoped that he'd push her off the cliff, this time. It would be poetic justice at it's finest.

But he didn't. Serenity's underhanded tactic of throwing herself at him had worked.

He leaned forward, his lips taking to hers. Serenity purred as she soaked in the burning desire to be found in their embrace, reveled in the feel of his strong hands as he gripped her. In less than a moment her arms wrapped around his shoulders, the woman returning the depth of his kiss with parting of her lips.

A shift of her skirt against her skin, Quentin's hand grasping at her ass; a surge of desire caused for shiver to pass through her - she felt her nipples harden in response, just enough so that it would be noticeable through the material of her dress and unpadded bra. Serenity lifted a leg, curling it along the side of Q's left hip, practically falling into him as her arms clinched tighter around his shoulders.

A break in their kiss left the woman breathless.

"Are you...sure, Ren?"

Even now, ten years later. He still hurt, still needed to be guarded against his former best friend. He still at least half expected for her to rip his heart out all over again.

"I'm all yours, Q. So long as you'll have me."

She kissed him and he returned it with a fervor that spurred on her want to absolutely and uninhibitedly give herself to him. She couldn't make up for lost time, of course, but she certainly keep from wasting any more.

Her leg dropped and they began moving away from the entrance. A general unwillingness for them to part from each other made it a little more difficult than it could have otherwise been but Serenity wouldn't have had it any other way. She wanted nothing more in the world than to be his, to be the one that brought him a happiness unlike anyone else. To feel him give into the recklessness of their repressed desires gave hope that she'd have another shot at his heart.

He pulled one of her straps down her shoulder, felt along the back of her dress for the zipper. Ren had undone two more buttons of his shirt, finding further progress to be blocked by the press of her breasts against his chest. She turned her efforts to removing his jacket, which for a moment she nearly thought to set down nicely somewhere (in consideration of it's quality, no doubt he dressed better now than he had then, and he hadn't shown up to prom in a cheap rental like most), but her concern passed about as fast as her hands allowed the garment to fall unceremoniously to the floor. Hands returning to his dress shirt, frustration quickly came at the prospect of pulling away to further undress him.

Fingers curled along the vertical seams of his shirt. She drew back, farther than would be necessary to continue unbuttoning, and it quickly became apparent that she was doing so to gain some leverage. Her alternate hand placed itself on the front of his shoulder, holding him back as her gripping hand violently pulled forward and to the side. The sound of buttons hitting at random distances and crashing into an assortment of surfaces filled the room briefly. A glance at her handiwork would prove that only the bottom button survived.

She reached down, delicately removing it. Her eyes trailed up his toned stomach, his defined pecks...her gaze leveled with his. Fingers lightly made contact with his freshly exposed skin, following a path similar to her eyes. As her touch arced over his shoulder, she drew herself in tightly against him, kissing along his collar bone as she pressed forward just enough to insist that he continue walking backwards. As they approached a gathering of furniture in the vast space that was, Ren kissed up his throat and tangled one of her hands in his hair. The other held his back possessively, it's shape nearly resembling a claw. Her lips lifted to his, hovering just beyond.

It occurred to her to speak but she found herself unable, or perhaps unwilling. Words weren't needed between them; they'd shared plenty in the past, more with each other than any one else in the world.

A moment to acquaint her senses with their surroundings; they weren't far from a stylish white L couch, the side closest to them having a low back that made it resemble a narrow bed. She turned her own body to influence Quentin's trajectory, resumed kissing with the passion of a teenager with their first love. When it was that they came upon the destination, which took the better part of a minute despite it being fifteen steps from their previous location, Ren gathered his open lapels in hand. His shirt was drawn back, over his shoulders, discarded with an unaimed toss.

Her hands returned him, slowly trailing up his arms. Feeling the hem of her skirt being pushed up her thighs, she gave a husky gasp and tilted her head back, unintentionally breaking their kiss. She reveled in the feel of him undressing her, moaned in encouragement with uncharacteristically heavy breaths. After Quentin removed the dress, revealing a silk sky blue lingerie set with intricate white thread work, Ren would place a hand squarely on his chest and push him gently backwards.

His positioning would give him little choice but to lay down or refuse her direction.

 

[Bevatoria]

Serenity's assurance even as their actions were becoming increasingly heated and uncontrolled gave Quentin some measure of calm even as he felt his own rational thinking give way to blind arousal and lust for the grown woman in front of him. When they'd first did this, they were teenagers petting around, tentatively exploring each other and taking their time. This was....there was certainly unrestrained desire and want for each other, but even as they melded erratically, testing boundaries and zones, there was a certainty about it that made him very sure of where this would end; feeling her breasts push against his chest made him anxious to feel them unrestrained by any bit of clothing.

She certainly had some ideas of who she wanted to undress as she quickly pulled his jacket off; the nagging thought at the back of his mind that told him to hang it up with his other jacket was quickly dismissed as they kissed quickly, urgently, the feel of her hands on him electric as he yanked another strap down her shoulder, a finger tracing around her collarbone teasingly down her chest towards her breasts.

And then she backed away, just a moment, and he almost pulled her back to him. Another jagged movement hade him hesitate, and then she ripped her shirt apart with a strength that Quentin was almost impressed with. The tiny thought about his buttons and the ruining of his shirt were quickly discarded; he had someone who could fix it up, or buy him a new one. What he was somewhat more fixed on at the moment was how hot it felt to know she wanted him so badly.

He'd return the favor, he knew, if not tonight. She had to have something to wear home, after all...

The last button was removed somewhat more deliberately, and seeing her eyes fasten on his muscular torso gave him a bit of a smirk, turning back to the look of lust that was reciprocated and invigorated in Ren's enrapturing blue eyes. They pulled in closer and he threw his head back in delight as she kissed his collar bone, a small moan escaping at feeling her lips drag against his skin as they moved unwittingly (at least by his thinking) towards the white couch that he'd picked out himself, basically designing the apartment around it. He gasped and moaned at the same time when she grabbed his hair, feeling her nails drag across the small of his back.

They were kissing again a moment later, tongue duelling and lips molding and pushing in constant motion while he let her turn him towards where she wanted. It might've been quicker if they'd just started there, but that wasn't the point: they were overwhelmed with desire, a desire that flared up again as she pulled his shirt off and threw it far enough away that they wouldn't have to care about it anymore.

Feeling her warm, soft hands running up his arms, and his own hands resumed pushing her skirt up her thighs, as if to pull the dress over her head before they moved off of her thighs. One went to a bare shoulder, to caress her lovingly while the other found the neglected zipper, the sound almost reverberating while the zipper's prongs parted. His fingers trailed whatever exposed flesh he could find under the dress, feeling the soft lingerie she was wearing beneath it. She'd broken the kiss to moan as he removed the dress, but he'd forgive that as he quickly pulled the garment down her arms, hips, and thighs, leaving it in an unattended pool of its own below her.

Quentin's own eyes took in the stunning sight in front of him; Serenity, dressed in an immaculately threaded lingerie set that seemed designed to flatter her figure almost as much as the dress had. Her chest heaved under it, both of them breathing hard, and he barely had time to admire her scantily clad body before he felt her hand push him backwards, leaving him flopping on the couch in front of her.

His manhood ached to be released from its confines, beneath his boxers and pants. Part of him wanted to grab Serenity, take her with him, twist her under him...and the larger part, accompanied by the wanton look on his face, wanted to see what she wanted to do next. Involuntarily, he licked his lips as he looked at her, poised over him dressed in something designed to tease and hint at what was beneath it.

Quentin wanted to see all of her, to let her give herself to him as she'd promised.

 

[AnyOtherName]

Quentin offered no resistance, falling back onto the couch with a libidinous expression upon his gorgeous face. As he looked up at her he licked his lips and Serenity's gaze couldn't help but follow the trace of his tongue.

She released a breath she wasn't aware of holding in, her chest falling as the air escaped her in the form of a lustful growl. She bit her lower lip and leaned forward, her hands seeking to make contact with Quentin's thighs. Her fingers splayed apart as her palms pressed against him, her hands pushing towards his lap. When she came upon the upper hem of his pants her fingertips curled over the material. Slowly they moved towards his navel, her sapphire eyes watching his face. A hand slipped outside of his pants and deftly undid the button, the other grasping and pulling the material forward as she carefully pulled down the zipper.

The sway of her shoulders and hips as she drew the material down his legs suggested the influence of music, despite the quietness of the apartment. She didn't need a broadcasted rhythm to dance - and she preferred to listen to Q, anyway. When she reached his ankles she shifted to grab the back of his shoes, which she took at the heels and slipped off in a single fluid motion. Then she continued to fully remove his pants and even his socks.

She placed her palms flat against the edge of the couch, on either side of his knees. The modern design of the furniture was void of armrests, and so there wasn't a barrier to inhibit her progress as she began moving over him. Sliding her hands forward, her touch moved onto his skin, caressing his thighs. Upon reaching his boxers her fingertips slipped beneath the material; her touch light and teasing as she stroked the flesh hidden from her sight. For the moment she resisted stimulating his manhood though her eyes traced the outlined bulge without restraint.

Her hands drew back, emerging from under his boxers. Skimming over top of the material, continuing upwards, she grazed over his desire briefly.

Her knees settled on the couch and she began crawling up his body. She kept her shoulders low, her hands well ahead of herself. She kissed and nuzzled his intimate length through the last of his clothing, though she continued to move forward - soon her lips found purchase upon the bare flesh of his stomach, then his chest. She rasped as her face found the space between his neck and shoulder. A moment was taken to inhale his scent.

Serenity lowered her hips, settling her spread legs precisely over Quentin's lap. A hand reached to lovingly touch the side of his face as she drew her upper body back, giving her a better vantage to look upon him. She smiled and leaned in for a passionate kiss.

She hadn't intended to but she made no attempt to stop herself once she realized that her hips had continued to dance. Pressing against him, the graceful motions rubbed her wanting sex on his arousal - she'd whimper in response to the feel of his tip as it nudged against her clit, kiss him deeper and harder. It wasn't but a few more passes that her hips jerked and she realized just how soaking her panties were.

The woman sat nearly upright, enough so that she needn't rely on the balance of her hands to remain so. She began to reach back, clearly intent on removing her bra, but then stopped. Instead she placed her hands on Q's chest, leaned in closer to him, trailed kisses along his jawbone towards his ear. She suckled on his earlobe, pulled it gently between her teeth. "Q," she whispered in a lustful purr. Rather than speak any further she moaned, her hips again jerking in response to her continued rubbing against his lap.

 

[Bevatoria]

It wasn't as if she'd never touched him there before, but Quentin knew it felt nothing like this as her hands forced him into the couch, his legs wider before her needy gaze. Seeing Serenity bit her lower lip only confirmed what the rest of her body was telling him; she wanted this. Maybe more then he did, as her hands undid his pants and pulled them down. He felt all of that, but his eyes stayed on her body, watching her move against him, above him, near to him...and yet not on him, as he wanted. But this was a build towards that, and Quentin just enjoyed it as she pulled his pants down deftly, taking his shoes and socks with her as he was left exposed except for his boxers.

The moment dragged as Ren finally started to caress his skin, slowly moving towards his boxers and a groan escaped him as her hand slipped under the material, tracing close to but not quite to where his arousal was evident. Her eyes betrayed enough of what she wanted to do to him. "Ugh...." He groaned needily as Ren teased him under his boxers and her hands skimmed the top of his hardening cock.

With a herculean effort, Quentin kept his hands at his side as he let Serenity brush her body against his as she lustfully crawled up him, feeling her kisses and mouth move wantonly across his boxers, and then up from his navel. As she got closer, his hands slowly found purchase on her back and shoulders, not pulling her up any faster then she wanted to go. It was torture, in a way, but a delicious torture that Quentin intended to enjoy every minute of. His hand tangled in the back of he hair loosely, pulling her closer to his torso appreciatively as she worshiped it.

He watched and felt her as she straddled him, feeling her hand against his face as they leaned up towards each other for a long, lustful kiss, the grin spreading on his face as he caught her looking at him. He had a hell of a view, too, as she loomed over him, her hips seemingly grinding to their own beat as she teased his arousal with jerky motions. Her whimpers were matched with his own heavy, deep breaths - at least when their lips weren't locked in their own dance of repressed desires being unleashed. Ones they'd come to the precipice of realizing before, and ones that would be held back no longer.

A frustrated noise escaped him as she pulled her lips and her body back, his own hands settling near her hips as she seemed poised to reveal more of her body to him. But she stopped, rubbing his chest as she leaned back into him. The feel of her hair dragging across his skin and his lips across his jaw. He hissed as she bit his ear, whispering gently. "Q." Serenity was moaning now, her hips still grinding his lap as she kept nuzzling against him.

In response, his hands slowly trailed up her smooth stomach, his thumbs teasing her soft skin as he made as if to undo her bra. His fingers teased the material holding in her ample bosom, smiling even as his body jerked again due to her pussy teasing his erection, still separated for the moment by two layers of fabric. Quentin slowly manipulated her upper chest, the part exposed as he gently probed her heated skin, drawing out the moment before his fingers hastily met behind her back, undoing the clasp of her bra and tossing it probably a little farther then he'd intended. His gaze lingered on her exposed chest, seeing the woman he'd loved for so long completely open to him, her breasts free and nipples hard for him.

"Ren...." He said appreciatively, his mouth watering as he looked upon the beautiful woman straddling him. Instinctively, his hands went to her breasts to squeeze and to force upon her the delicious torment her grinding hips were inflicting upon his still covered manhood. Quentin leaned up to kiss the apex between her neck and shoulder, still enjoying the feel of her hair brushing upon his body with every little movement, their heat growing as he longed to feel his length inside of her. Eventually, one hand stayed to gently twist and tweak her nipples while the other started to snake down her back towards the hem of her panties.

 

[AnyOtherName]

As Quentin's hands trailed up her bare stomach and onto the globes of her thinly covered breasts Serenity tilted her head back and exhaled a ragged breath. She had wanted his touch so badly, imagined it countless times while pleasuring herself; to actually receive it caused her to noticeably tremble. She lifted herself slightly as his hands roamed slowly over her upper chest, stared down at him with a combination of love and intense lust.

It wasn't but moments before half of her lingerie set was removed, cast aside and far away. Ren blushed lightly as he studied her, watched as his gaze traced over the contour of her generous endowment and the half dollar sized nipples that capped them, medium pink flesh perked and aching for the man between her legs.

"Ren..." He looked at her and they locked eyes. His hands encompassed her chest, a curved press of his palms and fingers preempting full-handed squeezes. She bit her lip again, repressing a whimpering moan, her hips rubbing over him in an even more suggestive manner (mostly pertaining to the angle). Quentin leaned up to her, kissed the bend between her shoulder and throat. She closed her eyes briefly and openly moaned.

A return of her sight prompted her to immediately kiss Q, her mouth eager and lips devouring. Hands made their way into his hair, fingertips massaging lightly over his scalp - as he tweaked a nipple she clenched a bit of his hair, tugged nearly enough for it to be considered a pull. She could feel his alternate hand trailing down her back, towards her panties...

She sat upright slowly, drawing Quentin with her. A hand slipped to his shoulders while the other continued to grip his hair with an absence of force. She kissed him deeply, a mix of purrs and moans emitting from her throat as she moved against him.

When their kiss finally broke Ren gasped for air, her naked chest heaving with each deep breath. She leaned back and looked at her lover appreciatively. The pull of his grip at the side of her panties caused her a devilish grin - she balanced on her knees so as to allow him to pull the material down her thighs. Revealed was a neatly trimmed mound, only a strip of dark curls gracing the area above her sex. Ren lowered herself back into his lap, drawing her knees up between them. As the final bit of material slipped over the sharp curve of her leg she moved one ankle towards the other, feet settling near Quentin's right hip. Once the panties were fully removed removed she gave Quentin just long enough to discover the drenched wetness of her pussy before crawling off of his lap.

Her knees touched the floor, finding a luxurious rug between her and the hardwood. Hands impatiently found their way to the band of Quentin's boxers, began pulling downwards. Her sapphire eyes watched his face, everything in her expression showing her utter desire to please him.

 

[Bevatoria]

A crooked, lopsided grin lit his face as he heard her moan, saw her struggle as she closed her eyes. Quentin had decided he wanted to see that look on her face a few more times today...and several more times before the week was over. Still, she was not entirely without her own resources to torment him, and Quentin let a heavy breath out as he felt her hips rub against his manhood again, and his motions to remove her last bit of clothing became more urgent and erratic.

His quest was further interrupted when Serenity leaned in to capture his mouth in hers again, her hand moving to squeeze his hair, drawing a gasp out of him that was smothered by her mouth; the sounds the two of them made melded into each other; her throaty purrs and growls emboldened him. Their torsos stayed entwined as their kiss broke, their eyes meeting just for a moment. The look was easy, full of want, passion, desire...and as his hands went to her hips, pulling the flimsy garment down the rest of her body. The look he got of Serenity's exposed mound, her nude body - perfection, in the height and intensity of the moment - was all too brief as the sensual woman, heaving and gyrating in front of him, lowered herself. He licked his lips again, remembering the sight of her arousal, the glistening of her dew on her, wondering what she tasted like.

A soft thud sounded as Serenity's knees hit his well protected floor. He took in a breath at the feel of her soft fingers, her nails dragging across his skin. Down his hips, his thighs, as his boxers preceded her hands tugging his own last article of clothing down her body. Even as part of him focused on that, the larger part of him was entranced by her lustful gaze; her smile was kind, gentle...she wasn't going away this time. And as he sat exposed before her, grateful he'd cleaned up 'down there' before the day (not that he could ever shave it entirely...the feeling was disorienting). But he still winced as he could feel her eyes drifting to the sight of his arousal...

He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but seeing her down there, her face so close to him, was sure giving him ideas. Quentin sure didn't need her to take him into her mouth, but the sight of her down on her knees, her blue eyes still sparkling with delight and desire...wordlessly, he shifted forward to give her a better angle as his other hand went to the back of her head to pull her to him. Either he'd feel her against him on the way up, or he'd finally get to find out what her lips would feel like around his cock.

And it had been so, so long....

 

[AnyOtherName]

Little time was wasted in removing Quentin's final article of clothing; the material slipped quickly down his legs, passed his ankles and feet. Serenity wasn't even sure if she had dropped the garment or thrown it, her eyes stealing away all of her focus as her gaze fell into his lap.

Her lips parted, an unintelligible noise following shortly thereafter. It was something between a moan and a gasp - though in her mind she had had the intention to speak. To tell him how grand he was, to lavish him with praise. But just as she started, she faltered, unable to find the perfect words. But thankfully...words weren't really needed.

She felt his hand in the back of her hair as he shifted his position. He drew her towards him.

Her face met his steely manhood without hesitation, her nose and open lips pressing lightly against him as she slowly exhaled a heated breath. Moving upwards along his length, her hands found purchase on his inner thighs and fingertips danced in random patterns over his skin. Her mouth opened wider as she approached his swollen crown, as if to take him in; but she only rasped another hot breath, allowed her tongue to briefly sample his taste. Her eyes closed and she purred, slightly shivered - her already hard nipples became more so, the persistent dull ache of want impossible to ignore.

Serenity continued to move upwards, her bright blue eyes opening to look up at Quentin. Despite her progress she did not climb up off of her knees - and it soon became apparent why. The woman's breasts settled on either side of his dick, her hands moving to push her pillowy flesh around his shaft; her body continuing to move, carrying her torso up and down his lap. After several passes she settled into a predictable rhythm. She watched Q's reaction before turning her attention between her breasts, her gaze intent upon the tip of his manhood as it emerged from the depths of her cleavage. With the next pass she slowed, just enough to allow a lick of his crown before burying him again in her chest. Her former rhythm was found again though for not more than a minute.

She slid down his lap, her open lips again brushing against his crown. A hand moved to caress the side of his rigid length as she continued downwards, its path leading to gently fondle his balls. She kissed and licked her way down his length, eventually settling at his inner thighs; she tenderly planted her lips against his flesh, a dozen times split between either of his legs. When she finished a spark in her eye suggested that she could tolerate little more teasing: even if she was the one doing it.

Her tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock, trailed upwards at a purposeful pace. As she approached his head she shifted her angle and allowed her tongue to explore the crease of his crown before sealing her lips around him. She began pressing her face towards his lap, a moan vibrating around his thick shaft as she slowly took him deeper.

 

[Bevatoria]

It felt like all he could hear was his own breathing as she slowly slid towards him; all he could feel was his heart pounding in his chest. Not the subtle exhale she let out near his manhood, not her soft hands pushing at his thighs, and not her body as it rubbed against his subtly. Quentin felt like a prisoner inside his own body at this moment, and the small part of him that wanted things to slow down just a little was overwhelmed by the increasingly large part of him that wanted it to build, to keep going, and no matter what happened, would never ask her to stop what she was doing to him.

The flick of her tongue against him made him moan pathetically. Quentin wasn't in control anymore, having submitted totally to whatever she wanted to do to him as he saw her shiver. That was something he could get used to, as her eyes met his. Those entrancing, bedeviling blue eyes as he could do nothing but look at her as she continued to bend into him. In the back of his mind, he was wondering why she hadn't drawn herself up towards him, but all he was doing was staring at her, seeing the desire in her gaze. Wondering what was reflected in his, as his hands fell away from her head, resting on his thighs for the moment.

He felt it before he saw it. Serenity's hands leaving his thighs was the first hint; the feel of something warm and soft around his cock was the second thing. "Uhhhh....." Another little moan that he didn't bite back as Serenity englobed his length with her breasts, her hands pushing them around him as she grinded herself up and down his length. It was an incredible feeling, and he softly threw his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling at the ceiling. He'd never had this done for him before, never taken it, and the rush of having it done for him here, now, by this woman, was incredibly intoxicating. He took in every little bit of her rhythm as she wantonly serviced him, the naughtiness of doing it while he was supposed to be at work, by the one woman he'd ever really loved. His marriage had been a defense mechanism, as if to prove he could love again, but this...after a beat, he drew his eyes back down as she licked him, his body's twitch enough to tell her that he'd felt it.

She didn't stop. It could've went on forever, the torturous, delicious tease and build she seemed intent on doing for him, to prove that she really did want to make it up to him and not just have a quick afternoon fucking. And for all he knew, it did before she stopped, and he let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding as she pulled her tits away from his aroused manhood.

And then he felt her move closer to him, and her lips - a familiar feeling - brush against his tip - an unfamiliar feeling. Her hands and mouth were soft, gentle as she teased him, not forgetting about the surrounding areas as she worked on his inner thighs. Drawing his entire focus and attention to her, which he obligingly gave as his hand reached down to lovingly stroke her hair, as if to reassure her he did want to touch her entire body soon enough.

Then a spark in her eyes. A look he'd seen before, but never in *this* context...she was just getting started?

Maybe they'd need the weekend, too...

Then he felt her tongue, again. Not just brushing him against him, but licking entirely around his length, her mouth moving further onto him. Subtly, he saw her shift her head, to take him from a different angle, and he groaned again as a surge of adrenaline flowed through him. She felt so good and so hot around him, and could she keep doing that, please, for the rest of the day....

Serenity's moan against him drew another shiver from him as her mouth pressed deeper onto his shaft, and Quentin couldn't smile at her; the moment was too intense, to deep, the physical sensations overwhelming. And as such, he decided to let his physical reactions take over; the hand on the back of her head lovingly stroking down to her back and upper shoulders, his other sneaking down to rub her cheek. Its path soon became clearer, however, as it moved past her cheek to take a hold of her firm breast; as his finger brushed her hard nipple, it took the entire globe it his palm, gently squeezing and massaging it.

Her sucking him made his motions a little erratic, but he had never felt a woman's nipple this hard before. Or maybe he was noticing it now. Whatever it was, as she sucked him, he rewarded her as best as he could, his fingers drawing back from her breast to focus on the pointed nub; pinching and rolling the nipple gently. Her moan against him had felt wonderful, and Quentin wanted to feel it again, and again, and...

 

[AnyOtherName]

She was only faintly aware of his hand as it stroked down the back of her hair and came to a rest over her shoulder.

Serenity’s focus was understandably elsewhere: on the glorious manhood she had dreamed of and wanted for since she had even the vaguest concept of sex. Unfortunately (for the both of them) she had responded like the emotionally inept child that she was at the time, finding reason to be defensive with her emotions and putting on a damned good show to cover for how she really felt.

He caressed her cheek as she continued to push him deeper into her mouth. The gesture struck her in a way that only Quentin could really understand; after all she had put him through, and the ten years she stayed away to let it soak and bitter...

But before she could delve into the depths of those thoughts Quentin’s touch brought her back to the present. His hand had continued to trail downwards from her cheek, his fingers grazed over the erect flesh of her nipple before he took her breast fully in-hand. She moaned her approval as he fondled her and the tip of his cock approached the beginnings of her throat. She began to withdraw, slowly, lifting her chest subtly as if to afford him an easier handle of her flesh.

The fingertips trailing along his inner thigh retreated and were soon found wrapping themselves about the base of his shaft. Its grip tightened slightly as the hand pulled back to follow the movement of her lips. The deliberately leisure pace allowed her tongue ample time to explore the underside of his manhood, the dexterous appendage ever-moving against him. She’d lap at his flesh, press the tip of her tongue purposefully into him as she drew back.

As she neared his crown she reversed the motion and began pushing her face again towards his lap. She moved slightly quicker than previous, just enough to suggest an eventual real escalation, the grip of her hand loosening as it slid back towards his body. She took him deeper than before, pressing him against the back of her throat, her hand shifting to hold him with only her index/middle finger and thumb. She held him for a moment before pulling back again, her hand and tongue continuing to work as before.

His fingers lightly clasped her nipple and her hips bucked in response, accompanied by a muffled whimper.

The woman wanted to devour him. To allow her primal lust the best of her, to wantonly fuck him with her mouth until she felt his hot seed spill into her throat. Which...she would. But not quite yet.

Her pacing continued to increase, albeit in painstakingly small increments. When it seemed that she reached an acceptable level she fell into a rhythm that was punctuated by lewd, wet sounds. Her hand was drenched in saliva, her lips sealed loosely around him and becoming more plump and scarlet hue from the continued friction. It was with some confliction that, after several long moments, she began to lessen her pace once again. The amount of suction she employed increased for a couple of strokes of her mouth before she drew back completely.

She looked up at Q with a smile. Her hand continued to move over his intimate flesh, her grip loosening completely so that her fingertips could trace over his length. She nearly spoke – but instead leaned forward to place a tender kiss on the crown of his shaft.

One kiss turned into another, and another. By the third one it had become an open-mouthed ordeal and her tongue sought to again encircle his tip. Her lips remained sealed around him as she pulled back, until the very moment that he was slipped out of her mouth. The hot breath of a wistful sigh escaped her as she lowered her face, her cheek rubbing lovingly against him in the descent.

The hand that had continued to fondle his scrotum throughout retreated to a single ball, massaging it gently as her mouth found the other. A lick, a kiss. Another lick, along the underside – which turned out to be more of a method of cradling him into her mouth. Very gently she suckled, undulated her tongue. After several moments she repeated the process with the other. As she withdrew she kissed his inner thigh.

Her mouth returned to the base of his cock, anchoring with her tongue. She broadly licked up the entirety of his length before fluidly slipping him into her mouth.

The pace wasn’t quite so torturous this time. But a pattern would emerge – Ren would start at a moderate speed, use variant the movements of her tongue/levels of suction, find and use whatever tactic seemed to bring Quentin the most pleasure at the time – and then back off before there was any danger of him climaxing. The first time she simply hindered the pace, the strokes of her mouth slow but no less enthusiastic. The second time she removed her lips from him entirely, continued to caress him teasingly with her hand as she watched him with admiration. She took him into her mouth again, returning to a slow build-up tactic. She refocused her efforts on discovering the contours of his manhood with her tongue, the strokes of her mouth taking him from base to tip. Her pace slowly increased and eventually settled into a moderate rhythm. Ren seemed content to simply suck him for awhile.

For as long as he’d let her, really.

 

[Bevatoria]

Q would've enjoyed it if he could've seen her hips thrust back at him. As it was, he heard Serenity's erotic whimper, both in auditory form and around his member as she continued to work him. His reward was feeling her tempo hasten, the evidence of her work the increasingly erotic symphony that was filling the room; for their ears only. He wouldn't have found it so arousing had he not been in the middle of it all; and had he not known exactly who was causing everything happening here. The woman beneath him, the one sucking his cock, the woman of his dreams. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to look at her, to watch her work him and not just lose himself in debauched bliss.

He saw Serenity draw back, her smile warming him briefly before something else warmed him more. Quentin bit his lip as she massaged his manhood, her mouth opening to speak before she kissed his cock. Once. Twice. Again, the motion becoming increasingly debased and lustful as Serenity encircled him completely, her tongue working around him before she pulled back. He moaned as he felt her breath on him, no longer sucking him even as her hand continued to rub. A part of him wanted her to continue that forever, and she seemed poised to as she sucked, kissed, and licked seemingly every part of him around his erect member. Serenity really was trying to please him, and were he able to get words out, he would've sung her praises. For now, his 'song' was simple grunts and exhales of breath as she continued to work him.

But she kept teasing. And that was starting to drive him a little crazy. The good kind, of course, the one where she seemed to want to bring him to his release, but then pull back. Her gaze on him was erotic, kept him in place, let her do her work on him, but as much as he would be pleased to let her do whatever she wanted to him, to stretch these seconds, minutes, hours into forever...how long had she been here for? How long had they been here for? Those thoughts wandered on the periphery of Quentin's mind as his hands, idle for too long as she worked on him, eventually reached down to her after she'd teased him for a while. One to her upper left arm to steady her, the other to her hair, to pull her off of him with a little more force then he'd intended.

His look down to her said it all. He was enjoying it, but there would be time later to enjoy that particular talent of hers to its fullest. A raging lust still burned inside of him, enflamed and built to a tower by Serenity's submission and wanton lust for him showed over the past few minutes. He turned her to him, pulling her up onto the couch with him. She could scamper up, or he'd manueveur her on him with his legs. What mattered was that a moment later, she was on top of him, her breasts about level with his lower stomach, and he pulled her so she was completely straddling him. Quentin enjoyed the feeling for a second, his member trapped below her body, her with most of the control even if he'd put them in this position.

Something he'd be sure to flip often in their future encounters, he reasoned. But he trusted her, and right now he wasn't thinking about that.

Another hard pull of her head to his, her body sliding on top of him as he kissed her lustfully, not caring where her lips had been a few moments ago. Sex was dirty, messy, and as his lips worked hers, one hand travelled to a familiar place; her heavy breasts, the generous orbs ample and waiting to be squeezed and mauled under his increasingly demanding grip. His other hand went to a place more unfamiliar, tracing down her smooth stomach, her navel towards her wet pussy, his forefinger slipping inside to tease and taunt her while his thumb explored the soft skin above it, trying to figure out what she liked, what would make her moan. He wanted Serenity to lose control before he did, and soon his forefinger pushing in and out of her, drenched in her arousal, was joined by another finger eager to test her.

His member ached as he felt her, wanting to be inside of her so badly, and still Quentin resisted, barely, feeling his cock strain as he fondled and fingered the increasingly wanton woman on top of him.

 

[AnyOtherName]

She felt his hand wrap around her upper arm and paid it no heed. The clutch and pull of her hair, however, was impossible to ignore. Quentin used his hold to wrench her from his lap, his steely manhood slipping from her mouth with a subtle 'pop'.

Ren was surprised and her expression showed it. Mouth still open, face flushed - the pain brought upon by the yanking of her hair was met with an upturning of her lips and a whimperish moan. She had always taken hair pulling like a champ as a kid, never once bursting into tears in response, but she hadn't realized that, in her adulthood, it had become a turn on. And a substantial one, at that.

She looked up at Quentin, her eyes a blaze matched only by his own.

As he guided her up his body and she followed willingly. Her body stayed close to his, her breasts and erect nipples dragging across his flesh as she rose over him. Next she was aware she was straddling him - there was a short pause, an opportunity for Ren to kiss Q's lower chest.

He pulled her hair hard, carrying her face up to his. She gave a lustful growl and sank her nails into his shoulders; she made no attempt to break the skin, though she knew that the removal of her well kept claws would leave marks in their wake. His name was upon her lips in the moment that he took her mouth with his, it's utterance entirely interrupted. Ren quickly found that she didn't mind the lack of spoken words - her tongue delved into the depth's of Q's mouth, eagerly working to meld and dance with his own. The "mmm" noise she made sounded as if she had just been given the most delectable morsel in the world.

His hand worked at her breast more roughly than before. Ren arched her back, pushing herself fully into his grip.

Fingers trailed down her trim and toned stomach. Once reaching her intimate folds, Quentin positioned his hand so as to slide a single finger inside of her. His thumb pressed against her clit; rubbing up and down at first, then shifting to a circular pattern.

A second finger delved into her soaked pussy.

The first finger had caused her to huff and pant - the movement of his thumb had her unintentionally rock her hips forward. A whine escaped her throat. As he pushed in the second finger her vaginal walls clenched possessively around the digits. The rock of her hips became a buck and with each thrust of his hand she pressed wantingly into it.

He fingered her ruthlessly as his thumb continued to torment her clit. It was only a couple of minutes before Serenity was unable to keep herself from trembling. She broke their kiss, pulling her face back only inches from his.

"Please, Q..." she begged. "I want...I need...to feel you inside of me." She sharply inhaled, in itself a pathetic little cry. She was so close, barely balanced on the precipice of orgasm.

She was uncertain if Quentin would stop - and she was at his mercy.

 

[Bevatoria]

It was hard to hear her since they were taking turns trying to devour each other, but Quentin could feel Serenity's need. Not just in how her mouth tensed and vibrated against his with his unrelenting teasing. Her torso squirming against his grip, and her hips thrusting into his fingers as if it was what she really desired told him what he needed to know. And he wanted her too; to feel more then her mouth and tits around his manhood. He wanted to own and possess her in this moment, as if a sexual union would undo the damage that their needless years apart had caused.

If there was one benefit to 'their' first time being now, it was that they both knew what they were doing. And he was looking forward to finding out what else she knew how to do, as he had enjoyed her sucking of him so...

But first he had to let her break away, and while he had stopped pinching and rolling her nipple in his hand, his other hand only slowed as it teased her center, not relenting entirely as she spoke.

"Please, Q... I want...I need...to feel you inside of me." Serenity's sharp breath was quickly followed by Quentin pushing his fingers just a bit more inside of her, his eyes daringly meeting hers before he pulled his wet, slippery fingers out. The waiting wasn't about punishment, exactly, but Quentin smirked at her desperation, his control of the situation - the tables finally somewhere near even - gave rise to a rather unsettling feeling within him as the same fingers that had been inside of her started to trail up her smooth skin, starting at her navel.

"Say it again." Quentin breathed, his voice dark and husky. He listened, watched her answer, more then just the words. The way her body reacted, on top of his only in the physical sense; he had her exactly where he wanted her. Wanting, and desperate. His wet fingers traveled between her ample breasts, leaving a glistening line of debauchery as his fingers went to her lips, running just inside of her mouth, letting her sample as much of her nectar as she wanted as he continued.

"One more time."

His own cock perked, and he started to shift uneasily under her, as if his own actions were making it difficult, but Serenity's desire for him was like a drug, and her answer spurred him further. Quentin shifted under her, positioning himself so he could enter her...but he paused, his hands on her thighs as he smiled one more time. "Well, if you want it so bad...." Quentin said, his own breathing deep as he continued.

"...then you can have it." He moved himself a bit more, his hands urgently shifting his manhood towards her as Quentin felt the first bit of his cock entering her. After that, Quentin gasped, and at that point he wasn't sure who pushed first.

 

[AnyOtherName]

Her begging was met by a thrust of his hand, his fingers buried to the knuckles inside of her. She rasped and gripped his shoulders with a little more force. All of her efforts were focused on pushing back her orgasm, delaying the inevitable in hopes that he'd consider her pleading.

His gaze was intense, steady. He knew precisely what he was doing. Serenity stared down at him with desperation written on her features, most of all in her eyes. Slowly, he withdrew his hand.

Her chest rose and fell with sharp breaths as she attempted to recover herself. Continuing to hold Quentin's gaze, she was not oblivious to the smirk that came to his lips, and -- there was something in the way that he was looking at her that resounded within her. She couldn't quite place it as she felt the brush of his fingers come into contact flesh of her stomach. Purposefully, his touch trailed upwards.

"Say it again."

That was it! The tone of his voice helped her to recognize the control in his stare, the desire he had to bend her to his will.

She shuddered at the realization. "I need you," she repeated, almost growled.

His fingers continued their way up her body, eventually following the curve of her throat and chin before pressing against her lips. Her mouth was already open and so Q found little difficulty in pushing his drenched digits within her mouth; Ren accepted them greedily, her lips immediately sealing around the offering as her tongue sought to lick him clean. She sucked him deeper into her mouth and moaned approvingly.

"One more time."

She released his fingers. "I need you, Q, more than I've ever needed anyone." Quentin shifted from beneath her. "Please," she begged again. "Please, I need your cock..."

Ren felt the bulbous tip of his manhood as it pressed lightly against her womanly folds. She couldn't help but whimper as he held there, seemingly content to watch her sweet torment. When he spoke, it nearly sounded as if he was going to demand more of her - and right now, she was all but incapable of surrendering to her lust. So badly she wanted to drive herself down on him...but she resisted, unable to shake the command within his voice.

But Quentin was nothing if not too good to Serenity. He wouldn't prolong her suffering, even if she deserved it.

He gave her the green light and pushed himself swallowly inside of her. "Oh god," she hissed. She drug her nails over his shoulders, onto his chest. She couldn't control herself any longer - she pressed her hips onto his steely shaft, feeding it inch by inch into her thoroughly soaking pussy.

She had taken to kissing his throat with a maddened fervor, shifting to his mouth as she buried the entirely of his length inside of her. The kiss was broken as quickly as it had come, interrupted by a moaning of his name. She kept him buried as she made a second attempt at kissing him, her tongue pressing into his mouth with reckless abandon.

Her hands pressed at his chest - she lifted herself, putting her naked torso on full display for Quentin as she started to ride his cock. "You feel so good," she purred.

The tempo of her movements slowly increased, her heavy breasts bouncing with each stroke of her body.