Toxic Pull - Sex Stories

Toxic Pull

The rhythmic, pounding bass and the horns of the Imperial March made her sit up, frantically searching for the phone in the dark. Her hand brushed against something cold, and then she heard the crashing sound of the water glass falling to the floor. “Shit,” she mumbled, as she finally wrapped her shaking hand around the phone. She was panicking that she was going to miss him. Only one person on her phone had that ringtone, Michael, Mickey for short; the love of her life. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy from sleep and her heart was pounding in her chest. Nothing. She sat up Indian style in the center of her bed and pulled the phone away to see if it was still connected. “Hello?” “Lucy! Hey baby, what’s up?” Lucy’s shoulders slumped in relief and she was shaking, but she attempted to sound casual. “Not a lot. What’s up with you?” “Luce, were you sleeping?” he yelled into the phone. For the first time Lucy heard the pounding of the club he was at. “No.” “Lucy, you are such an old woman!” Michael laughed. She flushed angrily and pushed her hair back out of her face. He was drunk again. Lucy could already smell the bourbon and beer that usually accompanied this late night phone call. Her fingers ached to touch his stubble. She ached to feel his weight pressing between her thighs. It was coming, it always did. The noise faded from the background, but Mickey continued to yell, “Oh, baby don’t pout. Look, I’m getting in the cab now. See you in ten minutes.” She heard the cab door ...

... slam and the phone went silent. Her heart was pounding in her throat as she threw her phone on the bed and frantically untangled herself from the blanket. She ran into the living room, picking up the dirty clothes that were thrown haphazardly around. ‘Why do I strip the moment I walk into the door?’ she thought angrily to herself. Picking up the dress she had been wearing that day for work, she threw them all into the washer and shut the lid. Her eyes fell on the dirty dinner dishes and then to her unshaven legs. Lucy lifted her leg up on the counter and ran her hand up it. “Shit!” she snapped. ‘Two day stubble is okay for work when I’m wearing tights, but this is Mickey,’ she thought and raced to the bathroom. In her panic she hit the bathmat and slid into the corner of the sink. “Fuck! That’s going to leave a mark.” Lucy ignored the pain and turned the water in the bathtub on. She knew her time was almost up, so she stripped and got in without waiting for the water to be hot enough and began shaving her legs. After the fastest shave and wash up in the history of shaves and wash ups, she rubbed her body with the towel, slipped into her bathrobe and stumbled back into her bedroom. Her foot stepped into the puddle of water and on a piece of broken glass. “Fuck!” She sat back down on her bed to see the damage. There was a tiny piece sticking out of her foot and it had begun to bleed. “No, I almost made it,” she whined to herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind she surveyed the ...