Unexpected Sparks

She points an accusatory finger at her best friend. "You know what, Al!" She began, voice loud. "You're just trying to rile me up," Alistair is thrilled immediately. He locks his phone, leaving the room oddly quiet. His eyes are bright as he offers Chelsea his full attention. It made her stomach churn. "Hi, Chels," he says slowly, significantly. There's the little tilt of his head. "What's the matter?" He asks innocently, but she could see the playful, mischievous glint in his eyes.
She says, "You know what!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about,"
"You know what it means!" She retorts. "Saturday. When you– you—"
"I what, Chels?" There's a smug smirk on his face. She could feel herself heating up beneath her collar. She can feel it climbing up her neck, to her ears. Goddamnit. Of course, he was going to play it coy. It's Alistair, after all. His ability to somehow present himself like a cat playing with its food deserves to be studied. She has never felt more like a prey in her life. She swallows, trying to gain her confidence back."W-when you k-kissed me," her voice is low now, not able to look him in his eyes. "You just did it to rile me up,"
Alistair is outright grinning now. His breathing is still nice and slow, as if unbothered by what she was saying. "Go on," he says, gentle, chiding. "That can't be all that you're upset about, can it?"
"I know you were just fucking with me," she snaps."You think you can just work me up like that and—"
"I worked you up?" He asks teasingly. "No!" Her face flames. Fuck. "Fuck, what I'm saying is that you knew exactly what you were doing, and I want you to admit it,"
He raises a brow. "We were both high off our minds, Chels," he says.
She felt she was going to tear her hair out of her scalp.
"You're doing it again!" She stomps further into the room and tries not to be swayed by the way Alistair adjusts his position a little, where he leans against his headboard. His shoulders are relaxed, his expression bemused. As she approaches, his body turns with him, facing Chelsea openly.
"So what? What if I did kiss you on purpose? Then what?" Alistair asks. She splutters, mouth opening and shutting in disbelief, trembling slightly. "I—"
She hadn't thought this far ahead, to be honest. "Cause you've – you've never – we've never—" she stuttered, looking at him like a deer in the headlights.
"So what are you saying then, Chels?" He asks, a genuine smile spreading on his face.
"I'm saying that it's all a game to you. You just wanted to freak me out. You can talk a big game all you want, but that's all it is—"
"You want me to prove it?"
Heat floods her body so quickly that she feels dizzy with it. All of his words from Saturday come flooding back, the confidence imbibed within them, the weight of Alistair's gaze, and the kisses that followed. She swallows. That's not what she'd meant, but –
She fights not to wobble on her feet. Her voice is only a mere whisper, when she says, "You can't."
He shrugs. His shoulders flex with it, and Chelsea–she tries not to focus on that too closely, because he was –
Alistair says, "I could. That's up to you, isn't it, Chels?" Her head spins. She didn't know exactly what she'd expected, coming in here, confronting him like this but it wasn't this. A part of her still thought he was just messing with her. He is, right? He must be. Because if not, then that means –
"You're fucking with me," her voice trembles.
"Am I?" He cocks his head to the side.
She has thought about it before. Ever since the kiss on Saturday. She and Alastair have known each other forever, they're best friends. He's her stoner buddy. That's too sacred to fuck with.
Alistair sighs, playful, yet condescending. "It's alright if it's too much for you."
"It's not too much," Chelsea replies, quickly, like an impulse. She swallows after her response, realizing the weight of her words.
His lip quirks. "It's not?"
"No." Her heart is thundering. He pats the bed, smoothing the blankets out, and looks at her expectantly.
"Come here then," he says.
She swallows. Surely they should talk about this more. Figure it out between them, make sure it won't fuck their friendship up or something, cause shit, they could jeopardize everything if they don't—
Or maybe, this was just a test. He was still playing with her. Testing the theory out, she gulps again, angling her head high. "Why don't you come here?"
Then he says, "Okay." And he gets up so easily. His movements never wavering, never hesitant. He's still smiling, still watching Chelsea closely, his eyes dark. When he's upright, he adjusts his towel. She watches subconsciously, as he pulls the fabric tighter around his waist. The stretch of Alistair's abdomen beneath it. There is a dusty trail of hair leading down, down, and her throat goes dry— drier the second he starts walking, easily, confidently, across the room.
She stares at him with wide eyes, but by the time the thought occurs to her, Alistair is already right there. He steps into her space as easily as he would any other day. It's not a strange thing, but with the tension flowing through them now, she could feel her body trembling.
And then he kisses her.
She squeaks, eyes flaring wide. Her entire body stiffens up in shock and disbelief, but Alistair's fingers clench in her hair. They pull hard, and pleasure sparks through her body, tingling down her spine.
All doubts dissolve completely, as she registers the taste of Alistair on her tongue. The press of his lips, and the heat of his breath. The firmness of his body, continued to push, as she was held against the cool door.
Lost in it, completely, her eyes closed. She brings her hand up, thoughtlessly, without any idea of where it intends to land, only for him to catch her wrist. He presses that against the door too.
Then he pulls back. His lips break away from hers with a wet, gasping sound. Chelsea heaves air in. Her face is flushed, mouth red. Red from – from Alistair's mouth, and wet, too. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown, but—
There's still a damn smirk on his face.
***
"Fuck, Alistair…" moans escape her lips as she rocked against his fingers, soaking them to the very knuckle.
Alistair bit his lip and increased his pace, watching as her eyes rolled back to her head and she began trembling and screaming out in pleasure. "You look so good like this. Crumbling under my fingers," he whispered, emphasizing his words with a curl of his fingers, drawing broken moans from her throat.
"Look at you, taking my fingers so good," he smirked, teasing her mercilessly, his voice gravelly from pure lust and arousal. "Please," She begged, arching her back against the bed and clinging unto him for dead life.
His cock throbbed painfully in his pants, but he ignored it. He was going to savor it. He had been fantasizing about having her for years on end, trying to suppress his emotions, until they got high last week, and he couldn't stop himself from kissing her and whispering dirty things in her ear.
He jerked off to that, for days on end and he felt pleasantly surprised that she came to confront him about it. He would have just let it go completely, but he could see the want in her eyes, shrouded by curiosity and he couldn't resist.
For now, he wanted to see how wrecked she could get just from him teasing her until she started pleading and begging from overstimulation. So he went straight to work. His lips instantly latched onto her clit, sucking at the poor, sensitive nub, hellbent on making her orgasm.
Her eyebrows shot up to the heavens, looking down at him in shock. "Ah! W-wait...fuck...! P-please! Al!"He shivered at the nickname, rewarding her with more assault on her clit with his tongue and his fingers constantly rubbing against her walls as well.
When he opened his eyes to look at her from his position, he saw tears pouring down her cheeks in waves and it greatly pleased him to see them. Unable to help himself, he reached down and groped his cock through his pants as well, rubbing the aching member through the fabric, trying to find release somehow.
He slurped and lapped at her hole so messily and sloppily, drawing out more cries from her lips. Then he grabbed her leg and slung it over his shoulder, twisting and turning his fingers inside of her pussy, hitting her g spot head-on, making her whole body wracked with tremors.
"Al...Alistair!" She was gasping heavily now, panting, calling out his name like a prayer and I could tell that she was so close to orgasming. He smiled slightly to himself. He couldn't wait to bury himself inside her. He squeezed his cock firmly, feeling the throb beneath his palm.
The sounds of slick, moans and groans, plus her cries when she finally reached her climax, and the overwhelming stench of cum and arousal that filled the air, almost made him go feral. In addition to that, her cum dripped all over his mouth and tongue…he couldn't take it anymore. It felt like he was going to explode in his pants.
She orgasmed, but he wasn't quite done with her. His fingers went faster, in and out, the digits thrusting like an arrow, hitting her g spot headfirst. Her eyes widened, and her legs shook almost violently, but she couldn't get away from his iron grip.
The room felt so hot and stuffy now, evidence of their intensity and arousal. It was rough, dirty, and sexy, with each sound they made increasing in tempo.
"P-please...I can't...take it...anymore..." she whimpered, her legs vibrating against him, jolting like electricity zapping through her body. And to his shock as well as hers, she let out a loud cry and squirted everywhere, spraying the couch as well as the floor, his entire wrist, and even the carpet.
Alistair froze in disbelief and a newly driven arousal at her unexpected action. His face was already soaked in her juices, but her squirt made him drenched in them.
"Hah…" he chuckled breathlessly, biting his lip hard in order not to lose control. She looked so spent and dazed, so he decided to give her a break at least.
"All right, let's clean you up and take you to bed,"