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Lipstick on the Night Stand, Demons at the Door	By : rokesmith Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 1395 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz, its fandom or any of its characters and make no money from this fanfic. The title is borrowed from 'Joy Ride' by the Killers.

Chapter List
- 1-Tension
- 2-Voyeurs
- 3-Massage
- 4-Release
- 5-Climax
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Chapter One: Tension

The target’s name was Saburo Fujimoto. He came from money, but now bolstered his construction company’s profits by selling information to criminals. He had a contact in the Tokyo police, and together they passed on the identities of undercover cops to anyone willing to pay, and half a dozen men and women had died so far.

Finding him was another matter. Fujimoto could be in any one of the dozens of buildings his company had helped build all over Japan. He only talked to his lieutenants – both legal and otherwise – by telephone. But there was one place Kritiker knew he would be, one place he could not resist. Every few months he would host a party in a rented penthouse for the most beautiful members of Tokyo’s elite. No one spoke about what went on at these parties, but it was not hard to guess.

Youji had sat up during the briefing. He knew that while Omi and Aya took care of the crooked cop, he was the obvious candidate to go to the party. This wasn’t the first time he’d been called upon to mix business with pleasure. Despite the trauma of what had happened afterwards, he could still enjoy the memories of the two women who’d spent a night at Riot fulfilling every fantasy he could think of. He’d even made a joke about it to Ken, who’d flushed, and promised to stay outside while he backed Youji up and only come in if there was real trouble.

But he hadn’t been able to joke when he’d heard who Kritiker had assigned as his partner for the infiltration. He didn’t show it but it made his mouth dry and his heart race.

Manx.

Though it had been two months since his last visit, Youji could have driven to her apartment without any directions. A former private detective never forgets these things. He still didn’t know if she lived there or it was just a cover. Standing in front of the door made his heart pound. He didn’t know what to expect when it opened. Images raced through his mind of events they’d never spoken of since the night they happened. Manx on her knees in front of him, red hair falling around her face, her scarlet lips parting to encircle his cock... Manx on top of him, thrusting her breasts against his hands as she rode him... Manx on her back, her legs spread and the tops of her thighs slick as he plunged into her... He tried to fight them, to concentrate, but he couldn’t stop remembering her lips, her tongue, her body, her cries and the overwhelming heat that had gripped him tight as he came.

Finally, the door opened and she stood in front of him. She wore a simple white dressing gown as though she’d just gotten out of the shower, but her hair was perfectly arranged in a tight bun. There was nothing of the excitement that had been in her eyes the last time he’d been here. This was the Manx of the basement and the missions, not the woman he’d called Hanae as he’d made love to her in the bedroom only metres away.

“Come in, Youji,” she said. “I’m almost ready. I have a suit for you for this evening.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he replied.

“You’ll need to look the part,” she said. “You’ll also need to be able to remain focussed. I’m relying on you not to get distracted, and I know that tonight could be very distracting for you.”

Youji gave her his best smile. “Manx, you can trust me to keep my mind on the job, no matter what it is.”

Manx took a few slow steps forward until she was standing just in front of him. She tilted her head up to look into his eyes. He returned her gaze and held it, wondering what this was all about. He enjoyed looking at her, taking in her wide eyes, long lashes, white skin and inviting mouth, but very keenly aware that the smell of her perfume was fogging his thoughts and that the erection that had started with his thoughts at the door was now fully and uncomfortably hard.

“When was the last time you had sex?” she asked.

He blinked at the question, but suddenly understood that this was a test of focus, and kept his eyes on hers. “Three days ago.”

Manx nodded, and without looking away, calmly opened her dressing gown. Youji knew that she was naked underneath it, and visible all the way from her outthrust breasts, down past her flat stomach to the patch of auburn hair at the top of her firm thighs. He managed not to glance down, he hadn’t had a girl remind him where her eyes were since he was seventeen and this wasn’t the time to break that habit.

“What was it like?” she asked in the same level tone, as though they were discussing a movie.

He never usually discussed his dates, especially not to other women, but nothing about tonight was run of the mill, so he settled for answering, “We took our time.”

“How many times did you come?”

“Twice.”

“And how many times did she?”

Youji allowed himself to smile. “She said afterwards she’d lost count.”

Manx’s eyes widened a fraction, trying to decide if he was telling the truth, lying to make himself look good, or teasing her. Her expression was enough to give Youji a momentary distraction from the twin torments of her body and his own.

“Very good, Youji.” With a quiet swish of fabric, she closed the gown. “Now, take off all your clothes.”

By now, nothing would surprise him. She stood back and watched him as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then shrugged it off and dropped it on the floor. He took his shoes and his socks off and then let his pants fall to the floor. Without hesitating, he bent down to push his underpants down his legs and stepped out of them too and stood before her, totally naked.

She looked at him, taking in his whole body. Long, strong legs; muscular arms ending in soft hands and artistic fingers; a firm abdomen and torso; a pleasant face with a charming smile framed by strands of dark blond hair. Only then did she allow her eyes to linger on his erection, unashamedly engorged against his body. She slowly and deliberately ran her tongue across her lips and saw a faint tremor run through him. She felt the heat between her own thighs and for a second she was back in the bed, looking up at him, feeling his weight on top of her and opening herself up to the force of that unyielding muscle as he thrust it inside her.

Youji watched her think all this, enjoying his own memories of the caress of her lips on his hypersensitive flesh and the slow strokes of her tongue that built up the friction against him moment by agonising moment until she brought him to the peak of pleasure and swallowed as he came into her mouth. The memories kept him hard as he waited to see what she would do next, unsure whether she was going to take him to bed or tell him to put on his new suit.

Manx must have seen the challenge in his look, and for a moment her expression softened. “Do you think I’m a cock-tease, Youji?”

“I’ve never met a woman who couldn’t be one if she wanted,” Youji told her. “Last time... when you brought me here to fuck you, you were in control. I know you well enough to know that’s how you like it, at least with me.”

“That’s the way it is,” she said. “Especially tonight. Now lie on the sofa and relax.”

The facade was back up in her eyes. Youji smiled in defeat and stepped back to the soft sofa where last time Manx had lain in his lap and guided his hands across her body. He stretched himself out on his back and watched as she turned around for a moment to open a draw, took out a bottle of oil and a box of tissues, then walked over to him. She looked down expectantly, and he shuffled over, leaving just enough room for her to perch on the edge of the sofa by his waist. With another woman, in another place, he might have said something or reached out to touch her, but she was as untouchable as a fantasy. He stretched to put his hands under his head and lay back to watch her work.

His body was still tense with anticipation and ached with a will of its own to be allowed to move as he watched her slowly pour the oil out over her hands. His ability to keep still lasted until the first delicate touch of her soft, slippery hand and then his back arched, pushing his cock against her palm. The motion only increased the tension even as it sent a shiver of pleasure through Youji’s body, and he let out a sigh of appreciation. He relaxed again closing, his eyes and trembling in time with the delicate but firm motions as Manx slid the cool oil across him, teasing the skin with her fingers and finally finishing with a gentle squeeze of the head which made Youji gasp.

Youji opened his eyes to look at her. His body was on fire from his chest to his knees, twitching with every beat of his pounding heart. Manx wasn’t cruel, or a tease; she understood and reached down, gently encircling him with her right hand as she rested her left on his chest to keep him still.

The first stroke was long, slow and gentle, such a relief after the agonising tension of the build-up that Youji groaned a desperate, “Oh god...”

The second was firmer, forcing the breath from his lungs as the pleasure rushed through him. He squirmed, trying in vain to relax as he took in the sight of Manx, the flimsy gown slipping slightly to allow him to glimpse the white skin of her incredible curves even as they strained against it. She took long slow breaths through parted lips in time to the strokes of her hand across his shaft. Every movement was bliss, every instant between them agony.

The tension inside him was irresistible, relaxing any part of himself was impossible. His hips moved in time with her hands, making him gasp each time the pressure peaked. Her hands were so soft, so gentle and so firm they were effortlessly bringing him to the edge.

“Just...” he whispered, “Just a bit harder.”

She obliged and gripped him that little bit tighter, and with a long, explosive sigh, Youji came. His cock throbbed in Manx’s hands, filling with liquid fire before the incredible tension released in a white-hot spurt that covered Manx’s fingers and trickled over Youji’s stomach. His whole body relaxed, his eyes finally slipping closed, as Manx gave him a few last few strokes to accompany the final trembles of the ejaculation.

Youji kept his eyes closed, relaxing in the warm afterglow of the orgasm. He only opened them when he felt the tissues on his bare skin, in time to see Manx methodically cleaning up the sticky fluid from his abdomen.

“I hope that helps you stay focussed tonight,” she said calmly, wiping her hands.

“Yes, it should.” Youji nodded, wanting to say something else but without any idea what.

“Your suit is on the kitchen table.” Manx pointed. “I’m going to finish getting ready, I shouldn’t be long.”
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Lipstick on the Night Stand, Demons at the Door