The Archaeologist's Mistress

by Jamie MacFrey

  She cupped my right breast in both hands, lifting it up as she lowered her head down. She paused, her breath warm and moist just centimeters from the glorious pink nub. The way she just went for it made me doubt she’d never reciprocated on her college friend. But she glanced up at me before continuing.

  “Can I?” she asked.

  “Please,” I begged her, and she pulled my nipple into her mouth. Oh, fuck, she was nice. Her mouth was hot and she was sucking hard, pausing occasionally to squeeze it gently between her teeth, then rubbing her active little tongue all around before flicking my nipple over and over. I placed a hand on her head, guiding her to the other tit, which was growing a little lonely.

  I was burning hot after a little of this, and I got a little too into it, pushing at her head to encourage her to go exploring south of the border. She backed away, staring at my tits, each nipple hard and glistening with her spit.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got carried away, I shouldn’t have done—”

  I didn’t wait for her to finish, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close to me again. Her breath caught in her chest, but she didn’t push away. I stroked her cheek a little, then stepped into her, pushing her up against the marble countertop, feeling her body pressing against mine. I lifted her chin and my lips met hers. Her mouth opened immediately to accommodate my tongue, which I sent roving with gusto. After a moment she was kissing me back, freeing the hand in my grip to run it through my hair while her other hand groped at my breast, kneading it up and down.

  My hands found the edge of her shirt at her waist, pulling it up over the tops of her breasts. I pulled the cups of her bra down, giving me easier access to her chest. I played with her nipple with one hand while I ran the other down her bare torso, feeling how soft the skin on the side of her body was. My hand slipped inside the waist of her pants, then inside her underwear, running across her pubic hair, cropped so close is felt a little like fine sandpaper. When my fingers began to probe against her pussy lips, she gasped and the hand she’d put in my hair quickly grabbed my wrist. I thought she was going to stop me from going further, but she kissed me harder instead, pressing on my wrist to drive it deeper.

  Instead I broke the kiss, pulling my hand out of her pants. I kissed down her neck, pausing to lick at the junction where her throat and collarbones met. My hands slipped behind her and undid her bra, whipping it away when I discovered it was strapless. I began to squat until my mouth was level with her nipples, sucking and licking each one in turn until it was hard and wet. Landa groaned, her eyes half shut as they watched me lick the valley between her breasts, and kiss the soft skin underneath. I moved further down her body, paying special attention to her navel before I was squatting in front of her. My hands went to her fly, and I looked up at her before continuing.

  She said nothing, but nodded.

  I undid the clasp, then the zipper, parting the fabric and pulling the flaps away, pressing my nose into plump mound concealed by her panties. My fingers dug in along her waistband, and I yanked her pants down a little roughly, until they were bunched at her feet. I helped her step out of her shoes and her socks and her crumpled pants, then kicked her clothes off to the side.

  My hands went roving back up her firm calves and gripped the well-shaped columns of her thighs. It didn’t feel like there was an inch of fat on her. It did feel like she was wet, though—when I cupped her pussy, the fabric there was damp. I stood again, licking my way up her mostly nude form until I reached her mouth, pulling one of those thighs around me, my hand providing some leverage on the other, pushing up.

  She seemed to get what I was asking, hopping up on the countertop almost immediately. If I was taller than her standing, she was taller sitting on the counter, and my chin rested nicely in the space between her breasts. I began to kiss and suck at her cleavage and my hands hooked into her panties and pulled. She lifted her hips a little to let me pull them away and I let them slide down her legs to her ankles. I stepped back, pressing her knees apart, and she slipped on foot out of her panties, so that they dangled off other foot as her legs spread for me. She scooted her hips forward, until they were resting just on the edge of the counter.

  I knelt before her, kissing my way down her inner thigh, pausing before I reached the entrance to her pussy, the wide expanse of hair shaved down to peach fuzz. Her clit was perched just above her lips, peeking out from under its hood. I placed one hand on her taut stomach, feeling how nervous and excited she was, her breath coming rapidly and shallow. With my other hand, I reached up and stroked her breast, teasing the nipple with the tips of my fingers. Landa was shifting under my touch. Her bare feet pressed into my sides, gripping me, pushing me a little closer to her.

  My thumb and forefinger found her nipple, squeezing it at the same moment I opened my mouth and swung my tongue across her pussy.

  “Oh,” said Landa, as my tongue probed gently around her folds, tasting her intoxicating body. My fingers pinched her nipple tighter. “Oh!”

  My other hand rolled its way up her body towards her other breast, which was discovered to be occupied by her own hand. I fought off the intruder until I had control of both nipples, pinching and pulling on both as my tongue pushed into her pussy, exploring its sweet heat. Landa was rolling her hips up and down a little as I worked, trying to fit more of my tongue inside her, but unfortunately for her, I was at my limit.

  My hands came off her breasts to join my mouth at her crotch, and she moaned in disappointment. Only momentarily I hoped. I slipped my tongue back out of her, lapping at her outer lips, tracking higher on her until my left hand found her clitoral hood, pulling it back and away, revealing the whole thing to me. I put my middle and ring finger into my mouth, wetting them, before slipping them into her. Then I lowered my mouth over her clit and sucked.

  Landa gasped at the pressure, and I eased off for a moment before beginning to lash at her clit with my tongue, slow and easy. The fingers inside her crooked and went traveling up her outer wall, until finally they hit the spongy soft area I was looking for.

  “Oh, yes!” Landa murmured. I began to waggle my fingers, running them in opposite directions up and down, the movement getting longer, expanding with her arousal. I was just getting into the act myself when she lost it, her hands unable to decide what to do; grab my hair, grab her breasts, or grab the counter to steady her. Her pussy was an indecisive vise, spasming rapidly around my fingers as she came on them. Her moans were sharp and in staccato time with each contraction, and I kept working on her clit and pussy through the orgasm until finally her breath became relatively normal.

  I slipped back from the counter, licking my fingers, cleaning them of her juices. When I rose, Landa looked at me, her entire body seeming flushed, beads of sweat dotted around her chest and neck. I turned and walked to the doorway of the kitchen.

  “The bedroom is this way?” I asked, pointing. I didn’t wait for an answer, passing through the doorway and making a turn for the stairs.

  Landa caught me before I reached the first step, a hand on my wrist pausing me just in front of them. Somewhere between the kitchen counter and the doorway, she’d lost her shirt, leaving her completely nude. She undid the clasp on my bra, tossing it over the cap at the end of the bannister. She kissed the small of my back, her hands reaching around the grope my breasts, squeezing them roughly, her hard little nipples pushing into my back as she pushed up against me. One hand rushed down my body, dipping into my pants and underwear, and I murmured my appreciation when a finger bumped into my prominent clit. The tip of another began to press around the lips of my pussy, already damp from working on Landa. Her other hand made its way to my crotch as well, finding the zipper in the front of my pants, slipping them down. However, the pants were a little too tight, and she had to pull her hand away from my pussy to get them down over my ass, and I assisted by slipping my panties down as well. She squatted to pull all my clothes off, pausing only to undo the buckles on my pumps and letting me step out o
f them.

  As she rose back up, I turned around, feeling her breasts press against my body, her nipples rolling up against my stomach and I caught her head, bringing it up for another kiss. This time she beat me to the punch, her tongue slipping out of her mouth and into mine with a determination that caught me a little off-guard. I hadn’t been kissed like that by a girl since Mari, and I have to confess that, cliche though it may be, it actually did make me a little weak in the knees. One of Landa’s hands was back on my pussy, slipping back and forth against the labia as her tongue had its way with my mouth. A finger slipped inside me and I moaned into her mouth when another quickly joined it. There was a long moment where I simply let her plunge her fingers in and out of my body while she kissed me.

  She slipped them out and I took her hand, holding her fingers between mine, and sucked them into my mouth, tasting the sweet of my own pussy on her. Landa watched me with a bit of awed lust for a moment, before pouting.

  “I wanted to taste you,” she said.

  I let her go, sinking down to lowest stair. I leaned back, one hand cupping a tit, teasing the long nipple, the suggestion of the desire for it to be her hand doing it to me hanging in the air. I opened my legs, stepping my knees apart, and used my other hand to spread my labia for her, looking down at the view myself.

  “There’s plenty more where that came from, sweetheart,” I said. “You still can.”

  Landa paused, looking a little unsure of herself, over her head. Or soon to be, possibly. She was Julius Caesar standing on the far bank of the Rubicon, and staring up at her as she considered crossing, the brief cold thought that Hary Xu got what was coming to him for not being on this minx 24/7 came through my mind. Her lithe little form took my breath away, curls of her hair cascading down her chest, teasing me with a view of her nipples that appeared and disappeared with rise and fall of her upper body as her lungs filled with air.

  My facial expression must have given me away because suddenly she was grinning at me.

  “You want this almost as much as I do, don’t you?” she asked. I just nodded. That seemed to be all the acknowledgement she needed. She sunk to her knees, and I groaned when she cat-crawled to me, her rolling hips moving the spheres of her ass in a delightful ripple.

  When she reached the stairs, she wrapped her arms under my thighs, pulling me a little closer to the edge. She tried to tease me back the way I had her, by licking up my thigh, but I wasn’t having it. I wove a hand through those beautiful black curls, dragging her head the last bit of distance to my pussy. I wanted to pull her all the way into my crotch, the tawdry thought of forcing this inexperienced woman to go down on me making me burn a little with excitement, but I thought better of it, letting her hair go before things got out of hand and I scared her off. She stared down at my pussy, my fingers still spreading it apart for her, and then looked up at me.

  “It’s very pretty,” she told me.

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” I muttered. She grinned at me and nodded, getting into it herself.

  Unlike the first guy I’d let fiddle around down there shortly after graduating from St. Cassandra’s Academy and escaping the clutches of the Sisters of Sweet Mercy, Landa had no trouble in locating my clit right off the bat. It pays to be able to examine the equipment yourself before the game, I suppose.

  Landa gave it a few light strokes of her tongue, flipping it back and forth, before moving further down and lapping deliberately. I twisted my hand, full of her hair, around the back of her head, encouraging her to explore. She nestled in closer, the heart-shaped curve of her bare ass rising into the air.

  I pushed her head down and her tongue reached out, the hesitation palpable as it found its way down towards my pussy. She started slow, mimicking some of what I’d done to her on the kitchen counter, her tongue tracing my outer lips as I made encouraging sounds.

  “Oh, fuck,” I moaned as she took the initiative to press her tongue inside my pussy. One of her hands arced over my thigh, stretching towards my clit, where stroked gently in time with her tongue. Her other hand ran up to cup the bottom my tit, and I grabbed her wrist, dragging her fingers over my nipple, getting her to pull sweetly on the long, hard nub of it.

  I began to lose myself, the heat radiating out of me, my thighs tightening around Landa’s head. Her face was so soft, the strands of her hair not bound up in my fist matted down between my legs and her ears. My toes curled and I raised my feet off the ground, my knees tilting together a little, as I bit my lip. Her fingers on my nipple were a little too tight and it hurt a little but it also felt so good I couldn’t bring myself to pry her fingers away, and besides, I didn’t want to distract her and cause her to lose the rhythm.

  And glad I was she didn’t. My breath came in a sharp ragged staccato as I came, moaning wordlessly as she licked me along, neither her tongue nor her fingers stopping their assault. My hand in her hair went slack and I forced her hand away from my nipple, then pushed her head away to get her to stop.

  She looked a little confused, almost hurt.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” I assured her.

  “Was it good?”

  I laughed a little, and just nodded, my cheeks and chest flush at how good it was. For a moment she seemed even more wounded, then realized what I was saying, and joined in the laughter.

  She was kissing me, long and deep, her lips pulling at mine as she pressed me against the stairs until I pushed her away to keep the edges from digging too deep into my back.

  “We could go find a more comfortable room,” said Landa.

  “I would like that,” I said. “But to be honest, hon, I have to find something else.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Whatever your husband left behind.”

  She frowned at me. “GJS is covering its tracks.”

  “What?”

  “You,” she said, jabbing a finger into the flesh of my tit hard enough it hurt. “You’re just here to make sure he didn’t have anything incriminating on the company.”

  “No, hon,” I said. “I’m here to find out who killed Hary. But to do that, I have to look at his office. He had one here, didn’t he?”

  “He does.”

  I sat up and pulled her close. I could tell she was pissed, but the proximity of my naked body had the desired effect on her, and I felt her nipples harden against my skin.

  “Look,” I said. “I need to look through Hary’s stuff. I realize that this is rude, so quick after his death, but if you’re right, if he’s got some dirt on someone, I need to find it before his killer can. So, let me toss his office. You can watch me.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “And I might have a special trick to show you if you do,” I said.

  That got her interest.

  “What’s that?”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  She pulled me up from the stairs and walked a little bit away from me, staring at my discarded clothes, then following the trail to my feet and back up my body, taking in every inch until she’d finally found my eyes again.

  “Can you show me the special trick in the garden?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  Hary’s office was rather unimpressive. A holo-monitor, a stack of flimsies, and old GenOak desk, stained a deep burgundy color. Landa had become a little distressed when I’d pulled the flimsy containing all of Hary’s home passwords, but I’d reiterated my promise to make it up to her, and she’d reluctantly acquiesced.

  Nothing in Hary’s office struck me as particularly out of place, except maybe the naked Landa Xu standing in the doorway watching me. I sat down in his chair, punching his password into the keyboard that popped up on the screen set in the desk. The holo-monitor flickered into life and I started snooping through his files. Nothing worth finding. A bunch of stuff I didn’t understand relating to the aliens on Ganymede. A lot of it was marked “Proprietary Data of GalaxJonesStein” and seemed like
someone had neutered anything in danger of giving away trade secrets. I wasn’t expecting to find anything. If Hary had kept this on his home computer, the GJS’ snitch programs they’d installed on it would have sent red flags. I turned the thing off.

  A line of humanoid skulls, old relics from earth’s prehistory, sat in a case behind me. I glared at them, watching as homo erectus and homo neanderthalenis glowered back at me. There was one odd looking one, not quite human, too many teeth, too long a face. I walked over and examined it.

  “That’s one of the Ganymede aliens,” said Landa, seeing what I was staring at. “Hary made a trip to Ganymede last year and he swung by the dig site and they gave him that to thank him for his work.”

  I popped the case open. The Ganymede skull felt different from the others. I picked it up and rolled it in my hands, so that I was looking at the braincase. I rapped on it.

  “Oh, be careful,” said Landa.

  “It’s fake,” I said.

  Landa stared at me in disbelief. “Hary loves that thing.”

  “It’s just molded ceramic,” I said. “I’ll bet they even sourced the silica here on Mars. That’s why it’s a little red.”

  Landa took it from me and held it up, as though by staring into its eye sockets, she could discern its true nature.

  “You think she’s in there, don’t you?” she asked me.

  “Not physically, but, yes, I think he’s kept hidden something in there. And given that he has a secure office at work to hide his work materials, I’m guessing that it’s something of a personal nature. And—”

  I was cut off by Landa throwing the skull against the wall with a lot more force than I would have done. I threw my arm up to protect against any shards and wished I’d worn my clothes for this, but nothing hit me or Landa.

  Landa picked her way carefully through the wreckage of the skull, where she fished a small black drive, no bigger than a fingernail, from between what had once been the skull’s cranium. She examined it and then looked at me.