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Sarcophagus	By : Beaverhausen13 Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th: The Series Views: 545 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Friday the 13th: The Series. I don't get paid for this.

Chapter List
- 1-Sarcophagus
- 1
Sarcophagus
Author: Pepperstasia Beaverhausen
Rating: NC-17, all diz-nay
Categories: Angst, RST, MRR, Ryan POV
Spoilers: Nope.
Timeline: Early Season 2
Summary: Micki and Ryan and tight, closed spaces
Author’s Notes and the Disclaimer: Micki and Ryan aren’t mine; they are in eternal chains by Paramount, Williams, and the Mancuso, Jr. I get paid zero dollars for this, and will continue to do so for as long as I keep writing these stories, which is fine with me. I wouldn’t have it any other way, honestly. So this story is inspired by another fanfiction, one in the X-Files universe called “Crawl Space” by Gwendolyn, which I highly suggest checking out if you’re interested in reading about Mulder and Scully getting naughty. Anyhoo, I thought about what would happen to my fave shopkeeping cursed antique hunters if they were in a similar situation, and now we’se abouts to get our Smutty smut smut on, fam. With plenty of sexual tension and angst. Oh Holla.

“Our Road is long/Your Hold is Strong
Please Don’t Ever Let Go, Oh No” – “Secret” Maroon 5

          She’s too close, man.
          What else is new, Ryan? She’s *always* too close. But this…
          This is an entirely new form of torture. It’s taking every ounce of willpower in me to maintain my composure.
          Perhaps I should backtrack a bit and let you in on how we got here. We had tracked down a cursed letter opener, leading us to the owner of a roadside oddity museum, Clem’s Marvelous Monstrous Curiosities. Jack had cased the place earlier in the week, studying Clem’s habits and figuring out where he kept the letter opener (in a locked drawer in the back office of the museum). He sent Micki and I to break in after hours on a night he knew Clem would be out. Apparently, the letter opener has some sort of Valentino effect. Clem has two different dates tonight with beautiful women, according to Jack’s reconnaissance. The way he’ll have to juggle things, he should be out all night.
          So we broke in and got the letter opener from the office drawer pretty drama free. I slipped it into the back pocket of my cargo shorts, mostly because Micki’s tight purple dress didn’t have pockets and she had left her purse in the Mercedes. It’s late August, so of course jackets are out of the equation.
          “Let’s see what this place is all about.” I had challenged her. I have to admit that the museum had piqued my interest the second I heard about it. I’m a sucker for a good roadside attraction.
          “Ryan, let’s just get out of here.” Micki whispered, moving toward the door of the office and pulling my hand. We had just moved back into the hallway that would lead to the back door we had picked open when we heard the slam of said exit door.
          “Hey! The fuck…” We heard a high-pitched male voice yell.
          In our panic, we escaped from the sound through the first door we could burst through, running into an Egyptian exhibit room on the other side, “We have to hide.” Micki had gasped at me.
          Sarcophagus of an Ancient King. The title card stared me down, a bit simplistic in its explanation, but the stone tomb beyond, painted in faded colors in the image of an unknown pharaoh would have to do in a pinch. Micki and I rushed over to it and I wrenched the cover open quickly, stepping inside and wrapping my arm around Micki’s waist, pulling her in with me and using my free arm to shut the cover as quickly as possible.
          Fucking Night Guards. Jack didn’t say anything about the Museum having night guards. We can hear them burst into the room about two seconds after I had closed us in our hiding place.
          “Squeak, you sure they ran in here?” We hear a gruff, mature voice question, breathless.
          “Yeah, a guy and a redhead. I swear to Christ I saw them.” The voice we had heard in the hallway replies.
          “I’ll stand guard here while you check the perimeter.” The elder voice commands, “Radio me if you spot them. They can’t have gone far.”
          “You got it, Johnson.” The one called Squeak says.
          We hear him leave, then the one called Johnson mutters, “Schmuck.”
          After that, it’s relatively quiet, though we are acutely aware that Johnson is still out in the room. So it doesn’t look like we’re escaping any time soon. It doesn’t help that this tomb was only made for one body, either. Micki’s front crushes against mine in the dark, our cheeks pressed against the other as we try to make ourselves as small as possible. Her elbows dig into the balls of my shoulders and I feel her rest her hands on the top of my head. I guess, where else are they gonna go? Just like my arms are stuck wrapped around her waist. If I made any attempt to move them elsewhere, I might accidentally open this thing and give us away.
          If only she didn’t feel so fucking *good*.
          You’d think that after a year of living with and being close to Micki, I’d be immune to her by now. The amount of times that she’s been in my arms already is countless, but unlike this, those encounters are brief and I can maintain some modicum of control.
          I’m really fucking struggling here.
          It’s all I can do to focus on my breathing, trying to keep it quiet and even. But every time I breathe in, I get a huff of her sweet scent, a combo of the coconut from her shampoo and baby powdery vanilla of her perfume. Why does she always have to smell like dessert? It’s making me lightheaded.
          Her right leg slides in between mine, pressing her body even further into me, our hips connecting in a grind that excites me a little too much. That felt amazing and terrifying all at once. Shit. I knew I should have worn jeans today. I can do nothing to stop my erection from growing against her hipbone. Her lips are grazing my ear, so her intake of breath is audible when she feels it. She instinctively begins to pull away and I tighten my grasp on her waist, holding her to me in a death grip. We are not spending a night in jail because of my erection. As of now, it’s a necessary evil until I can try to will it away.
          Which is a lot easier said than done, let me tell you.
          At every attempt that I make to imagine something unsexy to calm my issue, the reality of her pleasantly soft, incredible feeling body pressed against me negates what I am trying to do. From her lips grazing my ear, her braless bosom crushing against my chest, her satin cheek pressed into mine, and her hips that keep pressing into the very thing I am trying to will away, she’s proving to be very distracting.
          Oh, I wish these were different circumstances. Because Micki’s body pressed against mine in the pitch-dark sounds like it would be Heaven if this was framed another way. But I don’t make the rules. And the current ones revolve around chaste distant cousins who are professional partners above all else. I’ve been actively ignoring the effect that she has on me for as long as I’ve known her. The effort has been Herculean, even on her worst day Micki is still the sexiest woman alive. And, as the year has progressed, it seems that personally things have gotten more complicated. I know that on my end, my feelings have multiplied in intensity. I don’t know what I would do without her. I rely on her presence too much now. She drives me crazy and keeps me sane all at once.
          Right now, she’s driving me well past insane and into buck-nutty territory.
          Her breath is hot on my ear, sending tingles in a direct line from my spine down to my cock. I’m horrified as I feel myself growing even harder, expanding against her hip, my fingers reflexively digging into the sides of her waist as I suck in a noiseless breath. I attempt to move my hips back into the wall of our tomb, but I’m already pressing as hard against the cold stone as possible. There’s really nowhere to go. I’m just going to have to live with this embarrassment for the moment.
          “No sign of them, Johnson.” We hear the guard Squeak say as a door shuts. “I checked everywhere I could think of.”
          “Probably just some couple looking for a place to neck.” Johnson comments, “You see all kinds with this gig, Squeak my boy.”
          “Well, they’re long gone by now.” Squeak says, “Hey Johnson, wanna play Old Maid?”
          “Can’t you see I’m reading here, kid? I’ll be able to get through this chapter before our rounds in twenty minutes if you’ll quit bugging me.”
          “Sor-ry.”
          Great. I have to endure twenty minutes of this sweet torture? It’s good that we have a defined timeline for our escape, but I’ve *already* reached the limit of how much I can possibly take. She just smells so damned edible. It’s impossible to ignore my body’s knee jerk reaction to her. I can’t think with her pressed against me like this. Her hair tickles the side of my face and I feel my lips brush against the shell of her ear as I slowly breathe out. She squirms slightly in my hold and I feel her shiver against me as she tries to get comfortable and relieve some of her hips’ pressure against my now raging erection. But, like me, there’s nowhere for her to go without us busting out of this thing and ending up doing time for breaking and entering. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a *very* hard place. There’s no explaining this one away. She’s got to know that she’s doing this to me. It’s undeniable at this point. And I’m absolutely helpless to do anything about it.
          My hands slide up her sides in my own attempt to get more comfortable and I feel her intake of breath as my fingers accidentally graze the sides of her breasts. Jesus. I move them quickly down, overcompensating for my error and finding myself gripping what feels like the sides of her ass and hips as I stab her hard with my big problem. Goddammit. I really didn’t mean to do that.
          Fuck, every part of her is just one big danger zone. I move my hands up to resting against her upper back and feel her breasts push further into the thin cotton barrier of my t-shirt on my chest. This is *excruciating*.
          If only she didn’t feel so goddamned luscious. Or at the *very* least, wore a bra. Her disdain for the over the shoulder boulder holder has never been more torturous than it is in this moment. And I’ve already endured a year of that beautiful hatred; living and breathing it day in and day out. Feeling that unfettered goodness against my back, chest, arms, you name it, on a multitude of occasions. I should be plenty unaffected by now. But no, I’m nowhere near that lucky. Feeling her breasts against me is a pretty consistent thrill. Unfortunately, it never gets old.
          And this rager is going nowhere. Fuck me. God fucking dammit. I feel her fingers in my hair, her grip tightening on my head as she shifts her hips again and accidentally stabs herself in the process. That felt painfully good. I suck in a breath, inhaling her delicious scent as I subconsciously grip her back. She’s not helping. I know it’s not her fault that she’s a total turn on. Yet, this prolonged exposure is breaking me. *Breaking* me.
          I have to deal with twenty minutes of this? And what about the aftermath? How am I even gonna be able to look her in the face after this? My very insistent erection has just obliterated every line that was ever drawn. If she hadn’t realized my physical attraction to her before, she for sure knows it by now. It’s pretty damn obvious. It keeps stabbing her.
          Micki, quit moving your goddamned hips. You’re only making this worse. I want to scream out these words, but remember myself and stay silent. Instead, my hands travel down her back and stop at the top of her hips, gripping her with an intensity that I hope signals to fucking stop what she’s doing already. Her fingers pull at my hair as she inhales against my ear. Her exhale comes out hot and ragged, creating a shudder throughout my body and I find myself clutching onto her now stilled hips. It’s hard enough trying to keep my breathing quiet with all this going on, I don’t have the presence of mind for much else. That was a reflex action and completely out of my control. I course correct and my hands land back in their original position wrapped around her waist. It’s a little safer here and I try to take a second to stop the body-quakes and focus on taking in even, silent breaths.
          This, of course, is completely cancelled out by every inhale of her scent combined with the steady stream of her hot breath on my ear. My efforts to stop from shaking are bearing no fruit. Just fucking great. As if she didn’t have enough evidence of how much she affects me. These tremors are as obvious as the fucking sky. I really fucking hate myself right now. I bet she’s jumping out of her skin to get away from me. How humiliating can this get?
          I feel one of her hands slip down over my face and close over my mouth, right before a warm, wet sensation encapsulates my earlobe. I suck in a startled breath and successfully try not to moan. What? I mean, is she trying to kill me? She nips it a little with her teeth and my fingers dig into the dip of her waist, still just shaking all over. This is definitely not helping. I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t feel thrillingly good, though. I’m just really, really surprised.
          She moves her head slightly and I feel her lips connect with my jawline, moving in a slow, silent trail down to the side of my neck. The hand that’s still in my hair clenches a fistful of it as her other one clamps down harder on my mouth. My breath is sharp and quick against her hand as seismic shockwaves spread through my being. Is this really happening? I feel her softly sucking on the side of my neck, which feels outstanding, but I’m not quite sure I’m believing this is real. My grip on her waist intensifies and I’m still shaking like a leaf. Her hips shift slightly and press hard into my straining erection, which is going absolutely nowhere if she keeps up what she’s doing to me. God, I’m so confused. Did she forget that it’s *me* in here with her? What brought this on? I’m not really complaining, mind you, even though it’s making it that much harder to keep quiet.
          The pressure of her hand on my mouth gets a little firmer as her velvety lips move in a soundless trail back up to just under my jaw, and I try to temper my short, heavy pants as I feel small, open mouthed kisses planted on the border of my face and neck. I’m still just trying to register this. God, she feels good. Even if she’s actively trying to give me a heart attack. My fingers absently begin massaging slow circles into her waist and her hand pulls a little at the hair on my head in response, forcing a loud hiss out of me, which is thankfully somewhat muffled by her hand on my mouth. Shit. I need to be more cautious. Squeak and Johnson are still on the other side of our dark, enclosed world, and I am not going to jail tonight.
          She’s still planting her delicious open-mouthed kisses on my face, moving a little higher toward the border of her hand, and I still cannot stop fucking vibrating. All I’m feeling is her all over me in the dark and warm, wet kisses on my face. Does she like what she’s doing to me right now? Because she’s not stopping. And if this is just her kidding around with me, she needs to fucking stop. I squeeze at her in an attempt to silently signal that she’s going too far with her little tease and that this isn’t funny. Unfortunately, all that did was stab my erection into her hipbone again and I have to bite back a moan. Why does she have to feel so amazing? This isn’t fair.
          Micki’s hand slips slowly off of my mouth and moves to the side of my face as I feel warm, soft lips replace her retreating hand. Say what? Her mouth is cautious and quiet on mine as her fingers twine harder in my hair and I am flooded with electric thrill. Okay. So now she’s *really* kissing me. She takes my bottom lip into her mouth and I feel her caress it slightly with her tongue. Je-sus. Now she’s sucking on it, and I can’t control my right hand as it skates up her back. The dam is breaking. I can’t hold back any longer. She wants to kiss?
          Fine. We’ll kiss.
          I grasp the back of her head and tear into her mouth, feeling her suck in a surprised breath. Yeah, that’s right. You’re not the only one to catch somebody off guard tonight, woman. Two can play at this game. Her mouth tastes just delectable. Our tongues slide together in an incredibly enticing, relentlessly passionate manner that I didn’t even think I had in me, honestly. Considering the endless blue ball effect that she’s inflicted on me in the past year, I suppose it’s only natural. I’ve been pent up from the jump.
          Besides, she started this. If she wants to play 20 minutes in Heaven, we’ll play. My hand on her head clutches a palmful of hair, my mouth attacking hers with the force of every inch of my not-so-latent sexual frustration. The other hand on her waist travels down to her ass and gives it a hard, slow, and deliberate squeeze, pressing her into my painfully aching cock. Holy shit. She’s responding. Like, really responding. Kissing me back and pulling harder at my hair as her hips grind into mine. On purpose, even.
          It should be illegal to feel as delicious as she does. She feels fucking sinful. Maybe I should lock *her* up in the vault. Her mouth feels too angelic to be cursed, though.
          “Do you hear that, Johnson?” we hear Squeak ask, causing us to freeze mid-kiss.
          “What are you talking about, kid?” Johnson’s voice shoots back.
          “I dunno, it was a kind of slurping sound.” Squeak answers, “I don’t hear it anymore.”
          Shit. I didn’t realize the kiss had gotten that noisy. We’re going to have to try to make a better effort at keeping it down. There’s no way I’m stopping completely though. That’s an impossibility. Every ounce of me is singing with my desire for her. I want to taste her sweet-smelling neck, so I tilt her head back slightly as my mouth makes its way down her chin and into the hollow of her throat. Mmm, goddamn, she’s mouthwatering. And her skin is so fucking silky. She not only smells like dessert, but she tastes like it, too. I suck her flesh into my mouth and she emits a barely audible sigh as she presses insistently into me and her fingers massage the top of my skull. It seems like she’s liking this. She hasn’t stopped me yet. And as much as it would kill me, if she wanted me to, I would. But the blessings are upon me, because I am languidly kissing Micki Foster’s throat in the dark and she is letting me. Responding, not resisting. I’m happily flabbergasted by this. I realize that my hand has been magnetized to her behind since that initial squeeze and I find myself stroking the firm roundness with my thumb, internally marveling at its perfection.
          I feel her tugging at my hair and realize she’s trying to guide me back up, so I kiss my way up under her chin and back to her mouth. My lips hover against hers, teasing her a little as I graze mine slowly back and forth on her trembling mouth. She pulls my hair and presses into me again, sending a jolt right through me. I give in, the grip I have on the back of her head increasing in pressure as our lips reconnect fully and my tongue proceeds to explore the depths of her mouth again. Her tongue meets and ever so quietly dances with mine as our bodies writhe against each other. I’d say that she’s a good kisser, but that would be a gross understatement. She’s genius at this. Seriously. Her kisses are worthy of a doctorate. Especially if this is her oral thesis.
          Part of me still can’t believe this is happening. The remainder is happily going along with this, though. I mean, this is one way to live in the moment. She gently sucks my tongue into her mouth and my hand grips her ass reflexively, bunching up the fabric of her dress into my hand and pressing her into my hips. Sweet Merciful Heaven. My mouth wrests control from hers and I take over the kiss again, my tongue forcefully caressing hers as I grip her hair harder.
          I want to consume every part of her.
          Goddamn, it’s hot in here. And it’s taking everything I have in me right now to remain as quiet as possible. She feels just fucking marvelous. Right now, I want to shout from all of the rooftops, “Hey world, I’m making out with Micki Foster!” But again, the threat of jail holds me back.
          Speaking of which, I should probably calm down a bit. Our breathing has gotten a lot hard and I’m afraid we’re getting too loud again. I feel her right hand slip down the side of my head and caress my cheek as she takes back control with an intensity that surprises the shit out of me. I let out a startled gasp that I swallow as quickly as possible. Luckily it’s muffled into her mouth, but still.
          “Did you hear *that*, Johnson?” Squeak of the sonic ears asks, causing us to freeze again.
          “I didn’t hear a goddamned thing, kid.” Johnson responds grumpily, “So shut your yap and let me finish my chapter.”
          “Sometimes I think this place is haunted.” Squeak continues, “What d’ya think, Johnson?”
          “I think that’s the stupidest shit I’ve heard from you tonight, kid. Now quit bugging me.”
          We stay frozen for a few beats, her mouth still connected but inactive, and I take this time to slow my breath back down. I feel her thumb making slow strokes against my cheek and am somewhat impressed with the calming effect it has on me. This strange mixture of endearing and exciting is definitely making me feel some kind of way. I’m hit with another heady waft of her sweet scent and it overwhelms me enough to clutch more of her dress into my hand, pulling the hemline higher. I take her bottom lip into my mouth and lightly chew at it and I feel her tremble against me. It’s hard to tell, because I can’t *see* what I’m doing to her in here, but I *think* I’m having an effect on her. She’s not protesting this. In fact, she’s attacking me with another knee-weakening kiss, pushing my head hard into the stone wall of our tomb.
          Man, I wish we were horizontal instead of vertical right now. It’s quite the effort to keep standing, but luckily her pressed against me like this is keeping me forced upright. Her hand is still caressing my cheek, a little more urgently as her tongue plunges into my mouth and taps teasingly against mine. Her body crushes into me and I find myself pulling her skirt higher until my fingers feel the baby soft skin of her upper thigh. My fucking God. I grip and massage that insanely satiny feeling thigh as I lose myself in her pleasing assault on my mouth.
          I don’t think I’ve been so hard in my entire life. And that includes my pubescent incident with Alice Goodwin under the bleachers in the 7^th grade. Of course, Alice didn’t live with me for a year, existing around me with her constant bralessness, either. What’s happening now, at least on my end, is a culmination of everything I have been holding back for the past year unleashed. All of that longing and desire distilled into what I am doing to her in this moment. I take back over and conquer control of her mouth again, pressing her head back into my hand that’s still gripping a fistful of curls. The other one continues to grasp the back of her thigh, massaging slightly upwards until I reach the beginning swell of her ass right below the panty line. She grinds in an upward motion against my hips, which feels so good that I almost moan. Instead, I just kiss her harder. She softens against me and I feel her fingers playing lightly with my hair, the hand on my face pressing into my jaw and left cheek as our tongues mingle silently together.
          Quiet. We need to be quiet. The last thing that we need right now is to get caught. I don’t want anything to interrupt this godsend. My hand moves up the hem of her skirt and encounters soft cotton panty as I give her ass a firm squeeze and kiss the life out of her. I can’t get over how delicious her mouth is. I’m feeling slightly drugged by her. She just feels, tastes, and smells so enchanting. I wish I could see her right now. I would love to see what she looks like after I kiss her like this. But beggars can’t be choosers. And I’m perfectly happy with this clandestine make-out session in the dark. If this is the way it’s gonna go down, I’m more than okay to keep going along with it. And in all honesty, it’s really fucking exciting to know that we could get caught at any moment.
          My heart is pounding like a jackhammer and I feel all the blood in my body rushing straight down to my cock. My hips thrust into her almost involuntarily, my hand gripping her ass and grinding her into my erection as I maintain my title of victor in our current match of tongue wrestling. Her fist tugs at my hair and she lets out a small moan. Shit. We freeze again, mouths locked.
          “What was *that*?” Squeak exclaims.
          Goddammit. Of course, he heard that.
          “You mean the wind, kid? Because I heard the wind. Jesus, you’re jumpy. It’s annoying as shit.”
          Thank you, Johnson, you crochety old skeptic. That’s right. We’re just the wind. Nothing to see here. Nevertheless, we have to cool it a little if we don’t want to give away our hiding place. I pull my mouth back from hers and feel her forehead and nose connect with mine, and we attempt to control our heavy breathing back down to something that resembles silence.
          I feel her fingers making light circles on my cheek as her other hand threads through the hair on the top of my head. The amount of affection in her touch is melting me. My grip in her hair eases into a cradling massage of the back of her scalp as I rub my nose slowly against hers. Sweet Jesus, she feels incredible. I know that she doesn’t realize how crazy I am about her. It’s not like we’ve ever talked about it. But she’s my whole life. *Everything* revolves around her being in it. What does this mean now? What’s going to happen when we escape from our dark, confined sanctuary? I don’t think I can ignore the way I feel about her anymore. Not now, when I know what her mouth tastes like. I won’t be able to reel that knowledge back in. I know myself better than that.
          Well, it’s not like we’re in any position to talk about our feelings right now, anyway. Her hand on my cheek grips it and tilts my head, bringing my lips back to hers. She caresses them softly in an incredibly tender kiss and I’m momentarily knocked sideways by this. An internal warmth spreads through me, forcing a response that matches her gentle energy. Sweet open-mouthed kisses. Just a tiny bit of tongue. I slide my hand up from under her skirt and trace my fingertips slowly up her spine, happily following her lead. She arches into me and drags her thumb back and forth on my cheek as she keeps her lips engaged with mine in an aching, unhurried massage.
          What is she trying to say with this? She’s kissing me in a way that’s scarily romantic and I’ve got to wonder what’s going on in her head right now. My fingers reach the nape of her neck and travel back down the line of her spine, using a feather light touch at a snail’s pace, reveling in her mouth’s sugary sweet ministrations on mine.
          It’s overwhelmingly hot in here now, and I’m finding it’s making it that much harder to breathe. I feel her hand on my face wipe gently at the sweat collecting by my hairline and the pressure of her mouth gets a little firmer as I attempt a slow inhale through my nose. Her body radiates humid heat, the cotton of her dress slightly damp under my fingertips as my hand continues its lazy back and forth journey along her spinal column. I’m returning her kiss, but she’s still the one in the driver’s seat at the moment, shifting gears and picking up urgency as her tongue invades my mouth and slides against mine. This is an I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off type of kiss that makes me twitch against her. It’s so stifling in here, ripping our clothes off sounds like it would be so satisfying right now, in more ways than one.
          We have zero room for that kind of maneuverability, though. There are *many* things I would like to do to her that are an impossibility at the moment. Instead, I respond with a deep kiss of my own that says “I would tear every stitch off of your body with my bare fucking hands if I could”, pulling at the fabric of her dress on her lower back for emphasis and clutching a handful of curls on her head as I lay my passionate assault on her mouth with full force. Her hands grip and tug at my hair and I pull her into me, our bodies smashing together roughly. I might be bruising her lips right now, but it’s impossible to hold back this scope of need that surges from every particle of my being. I’m breathing hard and so is she, and the temperature in here just keeps climbing higher. I’m sure our exertions aren’t helping matters, but I’ll kill the man that tries to stop me. I can’t get close enough to her, though I’m doing my best, holding her as tight as I can and fighting her tongue for control of her mouth. My heart feels like John Henry is inside my chest, going to town with his sledgehammer. My balls have gone well past blue at this point, that old familiar ache amplifying in form and constantly titillated by her pressing hips. There’s a strong yearning to be inside her that edges its way into our kiss. I don’t think I’ve ever *yearned* this hard for anything before. But it’s there. Coloring the way my fingers dig into her lower back, flavoring the way my tongue dances against hers. Her scent is all over, the sweet vanilla essence getting stronger in the heat and dizzying me.
          Goddammit, I want more. I’m frustrated with our limited range of motion in this increasingly hot little box. I want to taste her everywhere. My mouth begins an exploration of her face, sucking the salt of her sweat from her skin as I kiss my way from her chin to her forehead. I’m moving my way back down her face to her neck when I hear it:
          “You take East, I’ll take West, and we meet in the middle.” Johnson’s voice cuts through the silence, stalling my movements.
          “See you then.” Squeak replies, and we hear two doors shut simultaneously.
          Is this really it? Are we finally getting the chance to escape?
          I ease my lips off of her carefully and straighten up in attention, listening. They’ve left. We have to act fast. I remove my hand from her head and find the ridge on the inside cover, slowly wrenching it open, light flooding in and temporarily blinding our sensitive eyes. I propel her forward as she walks backwards out of the sarcophagus with my other arm still around her waist as we emerge into the much cooler exhibit room, breathing heavily with squinted eyes. I reluctantly let her go and look at her. What a sight. Glowing with sweat, cheeks flushed red from the heat, her wild red hair mussed in the most flattering bed head imaginable, lips almost purple, her dress hitched up to the top of her legs…I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as she is in this moment.
          Micki smirks at me, “Ryan, your hair is sticking straight up to the sky right now.” She laughs, “We should get the hell out of here, asap.” She tells me, adjusting her dress back to its normal shape and moving for the door we had come in.
          I run my hands through my hair, smoothing my ‘do back down as I try to follow close behind her as best I can. I still have a huge problem down there and it’s almost painful to walk right now. I’m actually wincing as I step. We manage to sneak through the hallway and out the exit door without incident. Now we’re walking back to the Mercedes, the night air feeling amazing after twenty minutes of being stuffed into a hot ancient coffin. Well, she’s walking, I’m limping with the weight of my monster boner. I’m wholly confused by her silence. She’s *really* gonna try to ignore what just happened between us? Because I can’t. I won’t. She’s walking about a pace ahead and she’s not looking at me, and for some reason, this pisses me right off. We reach the car and she’s about to split off to the passenger side when I catch her by the wrist and stop her in her tracks, “What the hell was that all about back there?” I growl at her.
          She faces me and looks at me for the first time since our escape from the building, eyes meeting mine, “Don’t make a big deal out of it, Ryan.”
          My anger rises, “I’m sorry, but that was a pretty big fucking deal. Why did you do it?” There’s an edge in my voice as I raise my question.
          “Because I wondered what it was like to kiss you. Simply that. Nothing more. As I said, it’s not worth starting any unnecessary drama over.” She says, noticing my incredibly apparent problem tenting my shorts and looking away.
          “So you want to forget what just happened?” I lob at her accusingly.
          “You don’t?” She shoots back.
          I shake my head slowly, eyes blazing as I step into her personal space and back her into the Mercedes’ rear door. She’s a little bewildered and completely gorgeous as I place my hands on the hood on either side of her head and lean in to her, “Tell me. Tell me right to my face that you felt nothing and want to forget it ever happened.” I say lowly in a forceful tone that belies the anger and frustration inside. I’m searching her wide blue-green eyes for clues, but I’m mostly getting fear, along with something else I don’t recognize. It’s a kind of fire that allures me.
          “I can’t.” she whispers, her chest heaving in a slow rise and fall.
          I’m so close now our faces are almost grazing, “Well, *I* can’t forget kissing you. In fact, I really want to do it again.” I tell her in an intimate voice.
          “So why aren’t you?” Micki breathes out, eyebrow arched in her challenge.
          “Good fucking question.” I croon, closing the distance and roughly claiming her exquisite mouth.
          My right hand slides down the hood, gripping her cheek and laying into my passionate caress of her lips, pushing her head into the hard exterior of the car. Her arms, formerly slack at her sides, are now reaching under my arms and her hands clutch desperately at my back as my intentions of what exactly I want to do to her are translated through my invading tongue that no longer has to worry about being tempered with silence. I’m biting lips and suckling like a starving man. My left hand starts a slow descent that begins with stroking her neck, firmly going down her shoulder and chest and engaging in a much-awaited fondle of her right breast, and she moans into my mouth. I feel her right hand slide down my back, grabbing my ass and pulling me fully into her, her left leg wrapping around my waist as the entire weight of my body crushes her against the Mercedes. This includes my aching erection, which connects right smack dab into her center and rips a moan from my throat this time.
          I pull back to finally be able to gaze upon a just-kissed Micki. Her eyes are slightly hooded, lips parted and maintaining their reddish-purple shade as her beautiful face emanates a sort of dreamy desire. Yes. This definitely lives up to the wait, that’s for sure. She’s taking my goddammed breath away.
          “Why’d you stop?” Micki purrs out, eyes still half-closed as she squirms into me.
          “I just wanted to look at you.” I answer, running my thumb along her jawline.
          “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She murmurs, lunging for my mouth and capturing my bottom lip in her teeth, tugging me into another inflaming kiss that drives my need for her ever higher.
          She may have started this whole thing, but I’m going to be the one to finish it, fucking eh right. The blood is pounding hard in my ears and I’m thrusting her upwards into the car door in tandem with the succession of short, urgent kisses planted on her gorgeous lips, just delighting in her tiny sighs into my mouth. My hand moves from her face to gripping the thigh around my waist, her dress riding dangerously high so I’m digging my fingers into the flesh just below the hemline. Her hand is still on my ass, clutching and squeezing with every thrust into her, the other one grasping my shoulder after trailing from her death grip on the middle of my back. We keep kissing and dry humping in this fashion for what seems likes minutes wrapped in a glorious timelessness, until I’m practically insane with clawing lust.
          “Backseat. Now.” I order her, reluctantly removing her leg from my waist and pulling her away so I can access the door handle to the back of the Mercedes. I yank it open and she climbs inside, me following behind her and shutting the door as she inches into a mostly laying position on the seat. I hover on top of her, kissing her lips and continuing to travel down until I reach the hem of her dress.
          She leans up suddenly, pulling at my t-shirt and ripping it off with a strength that surprises me. Her fingers then fly to the button of my shorts, unfastening and unzipping before yanking down in a few deft motions. Not deterred from my own task, I begin pushing her dress up her body, slowly savoring her expanse of skin exposed until I am able to tug it over her head completely. Hot fucking damn, is she flawless. I kiss her hard, trailing my hand down the front of her delicious torso and across the length of her stomach, tugging a little at her pale lavender panties when my fingers reach the band and laughing at her gasp into my mouth. I’m grateful for the roominess of the back of the Mercedes. Compared to where this all began, I have so many better opportunities for exploration. So explore I do, my lips sampling her sweet smelling skin all the way down, taking time to pay ample attention to her oh-so-perfect breasts that have tempted me seemingly from the dawn of time. Much better than my imagination, especially when accompanied by her adorable little squeaks and minute moans. Oh yeah, I like this much better with sound.
          And I’m continuing on my southern journey, lifting her legs and sliding her calves over my shoulders as I crouch as far back against the car door behind me, sliding my fingers into her underwear and teasing them down her thighs, then raising her ankles from behind me to pull them the rest of the way off before resuming my position. I begin at her abdomen, kissing my way down, her breath quick and heavy. I reach her curls and start stroking my nose against her, “I said I wanted to kiss you again. I didn’t say *where*.” I groan before French kissing into her folds and flattening my tongue against her clitoris. Holy shit, she’s tasty. And *super* fucking wet, too. Good goddamn.
          “Ohh, Ryan.” Wow. She just moaned my name and my cock jumped at the sound of it. I kiss, lick, and suck at her for quite a while, increasing my pressure gradually until she tightens up and her thighs start trembling against my cheeks. She says it again, louder, “Ohhhh, Ry-yan” and I feel her climax against my face, drinking in her sweet essence and just *dying* to be inside of her. I feel like I’ve been hard for an eternity by this point. I make sure she’s ridden out her release before kissing my way back up her body, feeling her hands on my hips as they tug my boxers down my legs and I assist her with getting them the rest of the way off as I reach her mouth again. I’m about to kiss her when she puts a finger to my lips, “You should sit up on the seat.” She advises in a breathy voice, shifting from her position to allow me to do so. I comply, sitting up with my back against the seat, my little soldier at Full Dress Attention. Micki looks at me with a little sympathy, “You’ve been dealing with that for quite a while now.”
          I nod as she straddles my lap, “Are you offering your assistance with my little problem?” I ask her as she wraps her hands around the back of my neck and slides forward against me. Jesus mercy, she feels awesome.
          Micki glances down between us, “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘little’.”
          I glide my hands up her thighs and grip her hips, “Thank you for that.” I chuckle, leaning in for a kiss, which she returns as she moves a hand between us to caress my aching member against her outstanding wetness. I feel her grasp me with her delicate hand, raising her hips and guiding me to her incredibly hot entrance, still kissing me as she slowly sinks down on my lap. My cock sings with joy. Fina-fucking-ly. I groan into her mouth as she lets out a shaky breath and begins to slowly move against me. Holy fuck, she’s tight. I’m being constantly gripped by hot wet heaven, and I had forgotten how much I enjoyed this. It’s been a while, to be frank about it. My fingers dig into her hips and I regain enough presence of mind to begin thrusting back as I kiss down her neck and suck on the skin there.
          Her hands are now gripping my shoulders as she grinds down a little harder onto my lap, just feeling like a tiny piece of promised land on Earth. One of my hands makes a slow climb up her back as my lips travel down, leaning her back slightly as I latch my mouth to the nipple of her right breast and thrust upward with as much force as this position will allow. It seems that she liked this, if her exclamation of “Oh Fuck” was any indication, followed by the increasing wetness in my lap. She’s practically undulating as she comes back down, which I keep meeting with hard thrusts of my own as I continue to lavish attention on her gorgeous chest, alternating my mouth on either rosy pink nipple in an attempt to be an equal opportunity lover. I’m sucking hard on the left one when she comes down on my lap in a shudder, circling her hips and moaning loudly. I feel her quivering all around my cock and I thrust upwards as hard as I can, feeling insanely close myself. She grabs a hold of my face, pulling me up and drawing me into a kiss as our hips slam together hard and fast and she shivers all over. Her orgasm urges mine on, giving my body permission for that final blissful release which washes over me in the most satisfying waves. Yesssssss. I’ve waited an excruciatingly long time for this.
          Fuckin’ eh, that was just what I needed. Blue balls no more. Hallelujah.
          Our movements have slowed down to a stop and Micki breaks our kiss to slump against me with her head lazily resting against my shoulder. She’s not making any moves to get off my lap, which is fine with me. My hands roam softly on the smooth skin of her back, just rejoicing in her. I breathe out a contented sigh, “Oh my God, thank you.” I exude, “You are so fucking amazing.”
          She laughs into my shoulder, “I should be thanking you back.” She mumbles into my skin, “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”
          “Well, I *knew* how much I did, I just thought it was never gonna happen.” I tell her as I continue exploring the hills and valleys of her back with my hands.
          “Never say never, right?” She kisses softly at the dip in my shoulder, moving slowly toward my neck, and I can’t believe my incredible luck.
          We actually did it. After all of the fantasies I’ve had over her in the past year, the reality of having sex with Micki just blows them all out of the water. The Curse Hearse’s windows are completely fogged up, which is convenient since we’re completely naked back here. Again, the two of us are in our own private, hidden world.
          “You know that you’re the most important person in my life, don’t you?” I ask her as her lips move up my neck to my face. She sits up slightly, resting her hands on my chest as her face meets mine. Our eyes catch and hold, and her smile completely disarms me.
          “And you are mine.” Micki answers back sweetly, granting me a gentle kiss on the lips.
          “So what do we do now?” I ask her as I break our kiss.
          “Well now, we get dressed, go home, put the letter opener in the vault, and, if you’re a good boy, we can try again in my *bed* next time.”
          Oh, I’ll be good. I’ll be *so* good. “Promise?” I smile.

Aww, Snap, it’s the end, y’all.
          “What, Hah? Imagine me bald-headed from behind with a green tip. Be like Nanoo-motherfuckin’Nanoo.” – “I Can Dance” George Clinton & P-Funk All Stars
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