Stain

The air in the room is hot. Close. Stale. He stands. Back against the door, breathing heavily, sweat staining the armpits of his crumpled shirt.

She is sitting on the rooms single chair, facing the door. She is topless, her belly hanging over the hem of a knee length skirt. A knowing smile ghosts her lips as she parts her legs. Only slightly but meant to be seen, a welcome.

No words pass between them. They have been here before, these two, in this plain room, curtains drawn. Next to the chair is a bed, unmade, stained. Other stories.

Still at the door, he unbuttons his shirt, dropping it to the floor before walking to her. He kneels, holding her gaze, and places his hands on her knees.

Her smile widens now and she lifts a hand to his cheek, strokes the grey day old stubble there. She shifts slightly in the chair, again widening her legs.

He slides his hands up, under the skirt. Her skin is soft, smooth and his fingers glide over her thighs with surety, purpose. They find the thick coarse hair between her legs and she shivers as they trace the outline of her labia.

He pulls one hand out from under her skirt. Three of his finger tips are slicked, dark red with her blood. He still holds her gaze, assessing now, perhaps looking for a wince, a flicker of shame. She simply nods, spreads her legs even wider, smiles even more broadly. Inviting. Daring.

He puts his fingers to his lips. Licks them delicately, one by one. She stands, now, sliding her skirt off exposing her bloodied thighs and cunt. She's flowing heavily, thick dark blood seeping from between her lips, dripping onto the discarded skirt.

She places a hand behind his head and holds it there for a few seconds as she watches. Assessing him now. Then she pulls him to her slit. His mouth is open before he gets there. His nose slides up, over her clit as his tongue parts her folds and her blood begins to ooze into his mouth. She holds him there, rolling her hips as she slowly rubs herself over his mouth, her period mixing with his saliva and trickling down his chin.

He moves his attention up to the hooded nub at the top of her slit, taking it into his bloodied mouth as he slides a hand up her leg, fingers sliding easily into her cunt, slick with her blood and arousal.

She moves against him harder now, faster, leaking over his fingers and palm. The only sounds in the room are the soft wet noises of his mouth and fingers working and her breathing, shortening, hitching. She's close and steps away suddenly. She stands for a moment, taking in his face and hands, covered in her, darker spots in places where it is beginning to dry.

She turns and spreads herself on the bed. Plump breasts spreading to either aide of her chest, her soft belly swelling and collapsing with her breaths, lined with stretch marks.

He stands now, kicking off shoes as he fumbles with belt. His trousers and boxers drop to the floor and he slides himself onto the bed between her parted legs and stained thighs. She wraps her legs round his waist then twists, suddenly, and he rolls over, unresisting, so that she now straddles him. She crawls over him, dragging her dripping cunt over the soft hair around his belly and the coarser, greying hair of his chest, matting it with a thick trail of blood and mucus. She positions herself over his mouth, labia barely touching his lips. They both still, now. Not fucking. He breathes her in, tastes her as she drips into his mouth. She feels his warm breath against her, the trickle of her discharge leaving her, entering him.

She slides back down him, the mess between them smearing over bellies and chests. She leans down, lips part and tongues meet for the first time. As she tastes the iron tang covering his lips and face she lowers herself, his cock finding and sliding into her easily. They moan softly into each others mouths as she slides down, up, down. He lifts his hips to meet her with each stroke and he feels the hot, wet trickle coming from her staining his own thighs now.

On the next stroke she lifts herself from him and kneels between his legs, wrapping a hand around his cock. It is covered in her, red and slick and shiny, his own pre-cum leaking from his tip. She takes him in her mouth, briefly, tongue twisting over and around him. Her other hand slides between her legs as she tastes herself, slipping into her own wet heat.

They are both breathing heavily now, his cock starting to twitch as he struggles to control himself, her own hand almost frantic now between her legs. She repositions herself, sliding her bloodied hand to his lips as she lowers her cunt back to the head of his cock. He sucks on her fingers as his cock eases into her again. She rides him, more urgently this time. She lifts and thrusts her hips hard, fast, more of the slickness running from her smearing between them. She bends over him, breasts swinging over and brushing his chest as she lifts his arms and pins them above his head. She buries her face in his neck and breaths against him as she thrusts. Almost rutting now, frenzied.

As her breath becomes ragged she whispers something into his ear, maybe a question, maybe a command. He responds only with a gasp and with a final thrust of her hips they climax together, her quivering as she spasms around his cock, he moaning and lifting his hips as he loses himself inside of her.

They lie there. Her hair frames his face as she remains panting into his neck. They both feel it. The closeness. The blood between them drying, fastening them together. He feels her, all around him, engulfing. She feels filled by him, even as his cock softens inside of her. Between their thighs the mess they have made together seeps from them. Milky white streaks running through the dark red now. They both feel it running from them, clinging to hair and skin but eventually leaving, soaking the sheets below them. A new story staining the worn mattress in the plain room.