DROP FIFTEEN

 

 

“Hey, Cherry? Come on down for a second, will ya?” Hector yelled from downstairs.

Cherry felt a shiver running down her spine. There it was, the bad feeling. She couldn’t really say no, and he hadn’t asked for anything unreasonable.

She walked down the stairs slowly, each step one of drama, as if she was heading towards a firing squad.

Hector was down at his workshop, as usual. He had some project splayed out, that much was apparent. Parts and bits of armour and fabric were arrayed in a pattern-like fashion. “Yes, Hector?” she gulped.

“Come stand here,” he pointed. “Over here, where the light is.”

She did so. “What do you need me for?” she asked, but her real question was, ‘Is this the night where you finally show your real face?’

“To take measurements for your armour,” he said, picking up his measuring tape like a pro. “Stretch out your arms for me, please?”

She shut her eyes and did as she was told.

Hector measured her dimensions with practised ease.

“They’re all online already…” she said, lamely.

“It’s not just the numbers, Cherry,” Hector said, going over to the other arm. He measured, and added, “It’s also the general feel, how it sits on you.” He mimicked the feel of something heavy with his hands. He went to her waist, and she shut her eyes again. “Sure, I could craft one by the numbers alone, and it would fit you just fine, no doubt about that. But getting the feel of the body wearing it, it’s different.”

There it was. She braced for it. Now would come the inappropriate touching. Then it would all begin. The darkness.

“Lift your arms up in the air for me, please?” Hector said and measured under her breasts when she did so. “Why are you panting like this, did you come running down here? Calm down.”

She bit her lip and nodded in affirmative but couldn’t really calm down. Run, run away, that was her only impulse right now.

Silly girl.

You’d only make it a couple of steps outside.

Hector measured her upper chest. Then he asked, “May I touch your collarbones?”

She nodded yes, still biting her lip. Her eyes darted around the room. So many tools, pliers, hammers. She could grab one. She wasn’t that strong, but she certainly was fast. Fast means power, right?

Right?

Hector touched her collarbones, feeling his way around. “See, the problem is that a lot of the upper armour rests on the collarbone, and it becomes very uncomfortable if it doesn’t sit right.”

“I see…” she said, now actively breathing hard. She had worn boy shorts and a t-shirt. The outfit wasn’t provocative in its own way, but it was invitingly easy to get rid of. That, she realised, had been a mistake. She had let her guard down, felt too comfortable in here.

Hector pulled his stool and sat next to her, leaning down to measure her thighs. “I was saying, that since you’re a qwik, you really need your mobility. You have explosive sprints, and very fast turns.” He went on to measure the knee and lower leg. “Finding the right balance between protection and mobility is an art form,” he continued.

“I agree,” she said. She could admit that he hadn’t touched her inappropriately. Not yet. But it could all change in an instant. That’s what men were like.

Hector measured her feet’s length, then said, “Take a starting position for me please. Yes, just like that.”

She stood still in the ‘ready-to-sprint’ pose. Now she really wanted to run away. It was like wanting desperately to pee and someone asking you to pour water on a plant next to you. Torture.

Hector straightened his back. “Okay, done! I should have a first fitting for you tomorrow, and we’ll adjust from there, since we're all gonna be around here somewhere,” he chuckled, apparently finding his silly joke funny. Then he turned back to his workbench.

“Wait, what?” Cherry exclaimed.

“What?”

“Is this it?”

“Yeah. I got the measurements, thanks. You can go. Or stay, I don’t mind.” He casually waved her away, dismissing her.

Cherry put her hand on her waist. Now she was really pissed off.

There was a long pause, and finally Hector turned just his eyes to see her still standing there. “Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? WRONG? You invite me over to your house, you buy things for me, you give me an allowance, you call me downstairs in the middle of the night to come for a ‘fitting,’” she air-quoted.

“Measuring,” he corrected.

She threw her arms in the air. “Even worse! You run your hands all over me, see me trembling like a leaf, and then, what? Nothing?”

“What did you expect me to do?”

“I dunno! Take advantage of me?” she said simply. “Am I not attractive enough for you?”

“Cherry, you are. Very attractive. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

She instantly stopped being angry. “Oh. Then why aren’t your wandering hands, you know, wandering?” she mimicked with her own hands.

Hector looked at his hands. “I’m confused. Do you want me to?”

“Yes, you big dummy!”

“Oh, Cherry, I can’t. I’d be taking advantage of you. This owner-athlete relationship is really fucked up,” he shook his head.

“Sure you can,” she said, stepping close to him.

“Cherry…”

“Feel my collarbones.”

“I already have, they’re nice,” he smiled. Gods, he had a nice smile.

“Do it again.”

He brushed his fingers on her collarbones. They felt rough and strong and it sent a shiver down her spine. “Now, measure my torso.”

Hector picked up his measuring tape and went for it again.

“Not with that. With your palm.”

He chuckled and complied. He measured her torso with his palm-length. “This is terribly inaccurate,” he said with his deep voice. “We’re gonna mess up the armour and we’ll have to do it all over again.” He ran his palm over her breasts, then groped her.

Fucking finally.

Hector leaned in, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close into a deep kiss. He was gruff and sweaty and so damn hot.

“Mmm,” she teased, “That was very nice, but I don’t see how it helps with the measuring.”

“Let me show you how,” he said and picked her up, then placed her on his workbench over the armour parts. He set her down with the same orientation.

“Oh, nice. Where does this part go?” she said coyly, pointing to an arm part.

He kissed her on the arm. “There,” he said, and laid the piece on her.

“And this one?”

He pulled her t-shirt up and kissed her belly. “There,” he said and put the lower torso piece on her.

“And that one?”

“That,” Hector chuckled and leaned forward on his arms, “is a crotch guard.”

Cherry nodded and held her eyes wide, looking impatient. “Well? Carry on, mister.”

Hector pulled her shorts down and kissed her over the panties. He took his time, and she was already feeling warm and mushy.

“Why the delay, master armourer?” she teased, practically moaning.

“I can’t seem to measure it right. I’ll need to see it better.” And then he slid his hand under her butt, raised it and pulled her panties off with a powerful, swift motion.

If she hadn’t been wet by that point, this would have definitely done the job.

“Oh, found the cherry!” Hector said, exploring her body, and locating her birthmark. After a long while of kissing and brushing her skin with his fingers, and driving her absolutely nuts, he left her alone for a second. “Excuse me…”

Cherry panted hard, splayed out on the workbench and feeling the cool air on her privates, staring at the ceiling. She was flustered, excited, scared but only a tiny bit, and absolutely, positively horny.

Hector came back from his room with a condom. Well. At least he was careful. He licked his thumb and raised it to her in a thumbs-up gesture.

She hesitated for a second. She looked down at herself, her legs still open and ready to receive. Even her subconscious limb placement was telling her to go for it. She licked her thumb too and pressed it on his. They both got the green ‘go ahead’ signal and a tiny yelp escaped her throat.

Hector climbed on the workbench on top of her and gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t wa-”

“Oh, just fucking take me already!” she breathed out and kissed him, wrapping her legs around him.