CH5
It's been a strange few days since the trip to Oscorp, and the weirdness only grew day by day,
At first, the weirdness was from Peter and still is, honestly. Thanks to Parker's genetics, Peter has always been adaptable, quick to put on muscle, and quick to adjust to strenuous exercises, but recently, he's been different.
We'd always been neck to neck, and that's only because he preferred books. I felt I would've been left behind if he had tried to apply himself.
But now things have changed. At first, I didn't really notice, but a few days after the field trip, I tried to hang out with him, and he started to make excuses to step away during lunch. After the third time, I asked around, and people said they'd spotted him in the library.
A day after that, all of us were supposed to go out for dinner, just us, but he again made an excuses, but this time I found him nose deep in a book, pictures of insects filling the page, it honestly annoyed me, peter wasnt like this he didnt make excuses, he didnt sneak around, so maybe i reached out maybe i would've gripped his shoulder harder than needed but all that flew out the window when without turning around his right hand snaked out and grabbed my wrist in a vice like grip.
I tried to pull away, but even when I tugged my arm with my whole body, he didn't release or move until he turned and mentally registered. I noted it as some freak accuracy, but the day after, some kids in the cafeteria were throwing a football. Eventually, one failed to catch it, but Peter caught it before it could hit anyone at the table. I'm not saying that was weird, but him doing it while not looking at it directly… definitely odd. The final nail in the coffin regarding him was that he rode to school without his glasses...… like on a skateboard, fifteen blocks, three intersections.
And everyone thought nothing of it. I mean, after I asked about it, he started wearing his glasses again, but literally no one thought anything about the situation, which was weird and had begun to irritate me to no end.
Ignoring Peter, the weirdness only got worse. From there, it was two weeks before Christmas break, meaning it was test season. For some reason, Mrs.O has called off for the remaining two weeks, and Harry told us he wouldn't be coming either. Yet no matter who asked, Ned, Mary, Michelle, Peter, or me, we wouldn't tell them anything beyond that it was personal.
Then it was Dr. Conners. He'd come back to school, yeah, but missing his damn arm and trying to act as if it was nothing, man comes back missing a left arm and says it's but a scratch.. Many students liked him, and at any school without Mrs.O, he'd be people's favorite teacher. He wouldn't tell us what happened or even discuss it.
In addition, he suddenly shifted his entire curriculum from human biology to reptile biology and amphibians, cool animals, I love animals, but mid-term, mid-year… weirdddddddd, and I hate to put on a bat-themed cowl and cape, but dude ima call out weird and that was weird, at least this time I wasn't the only one to call it out, Ned had actually tried finding a police report or anything in general regarding a man fitting Dr.Conners description missing an arm, nothing.
This wasn't exactly in my sphere of socialization. Still, apparently, Cindy Moon and her long-time boyfriend had had an epic argument, and she even dumped him right before a hockey game, cold as hell, in my opinion. But that was Wednesday, and she hasn't shown up yet. This was weird because they had been together for almost four years. Hector and she had been voted most likely to get married twice in a row.
Then came my last straw, since before spring break, things of mine had been going missing, at first it was thing i didnt and wouldnt even notice going missing, old clothes gadgets, old pisces of jewelry, then the items got larger,, mostly hoodies and shirts, the thing that got my attention and had me looking around was when a flashdrive of all my songs went missing, most f the item minus the clothing would show back up around my room eventually but this was different it was my music something ma and pops didn't even bother to try and restrict or control.
So I looked around the house before asking Jr., Eve, and Kalani, but none had taken it. Worse, Dad told me Felicia had disappeared for hours before suddenly reappearing. She wasn't a roaming cat; she would find the most prominent and comfy place and lie there.
When my fantastic four hoodie went missing and no one had answers, I just about lost my shit. I didn't like working and didn't bother charging when I performed, so instead, I saved for months for that hoodie and let JR wear it before I had. It was about all I would allow for it to go missing. HELL NO.
This is why I was laying on Aunt May's and Uncle Ben's house, both spying on Peter Parker and my house. At best, I would see Jr. sneaking into my room through the bathroom, and at worst, I would see a cat burglar—no, literally.
I had a perfect plan. I had locked Felicia in my room after ensuring she had eaten and drunk her fill; her little box was in the bathroom with the door open, so she should be fine. As for Peter, I occasionally looked down from the roof and into his room.
Three hours had passed since my vigil began. It was around twelve in the morning, and soon the clock would turn over to one in the morning, but nothing had happened so far. Peter had been doing homework since around nine, which was weird, I mean, yes, a nerd, but three hours of studying two weeks before winter break started, most teachers had only assigned a study guide for their test.
Looking down from the roof edge and into Peter's room, I saw him sitting at his desk writing. I could swear he'd been working on that same book for an hour now, but from here, I couldn't see past his back and clearly onto his desk; maybe he was sleeping at his desk or something.
Looking over to my house, which was just across the block, I saw a two-story house painted dark blue with Grey roof tiles. It wasn't much, either. It had three windows in the front on the second floor and one large window on the first floor.
It was an only slightly larger-than-average New York home. From my vantage point, I could see Jr. playing games on his computer, the flashing light telling me it was probably Call of Duty, which I didn't know. On the first floor, I could see into the living room, where Ma and Pops were watching some lovey-dovey movie, arms wrapped around each other. It made me wanna barf, but it was only a matter of time before they closed the blinds and went upstairs, meaning my time was running low.
Rule number one of the Grant Home was that if Ma and Pops were sleeping and you woke them to get inside, you were in trouble. They would never leave me or any of the kids outside, but still, it was big trouble.
Rolling over, I sighed. This was looking to be a bust. Looking up at the stars, I looked at the night sky. Right now, I couldn't see many of the stars here, but the moon still stood out in the light-polluted world. How glorious it is to stand out even among stars. Tonight was a full moon and a relatively clear night sky.
Laying there, I started humming. Pieces to a new song were slowly falling into place. I imagined a chorus of horns accompanied by bass-roaring and then drums. One by one, one instrument at a time, I built a tune.
As I began to lift my fingers, a shadow from the corner of my eye caught my attention. Crawling across my roof was a shadowed figure. It was more of an indistinguishable silhouette than a person, but as it lowered itself to the second floor, the light from my brother's screen lit the figure back.
For a moment, I was surprised. On the figure's back was snow-white hair pulled into a messy ponytail. The woman—I was sure it was a woman now—was clad in dark clothing that I couldn't make out clearly in the dark. Even with the moon's light, only the moon illuminated her side and back. My mind tried to piece things together. A face blurry, my mind clawed at itself, but I pushed it back and down.
Instead, I pulled free one of the new Sharp phones, a birthday gift from Ma, and texted Pops as I waited and watched, telling him we needed window locks and that I'd be home late toning but I was okay. It wasn't long before I saw him in the living room window picking up his phone and reading my message before looking across the street and giving me a thumbs up.
At that point, the woman exited my room's window with a now medium-sized cat with fluffy, whitish Grey fur sprinkled with black. I mean, I couldn't see her from her, but we only had one cat in our house, let alone in my room.
Rolling over, I let myself fall off the edge and onto the house front of peters house, his place was one of dream like suburban homes, with two stories it also had a mini roof in the front and back, the front one where peters room was covered their porch and slanted to the ground, as i rolled off i land as softly as I could. Peter's window was facing the side of his house, so I knew he couldn't see me, but noise was noise, and I didn't feel like being shot at by a stressed Uncle Ben.
Leaping off from the front of the house, I caught myself on the concrete and turned momentum into a roll. By the time I was up, the white-haired woman was climbing to the top of my home and headed what appeared to be north west, up deeper into Queens, but angled towards Manhattan.
As I ran across the street, I didn't bother to climb any of the houses; instead, I jumped over fences and gates. Years in the neighborhood told me which houses were safe and which had a dog that would happily chew on my face, but more importantly, it told me she was headed towards Grand Central Park or the Forest Hills train station. Lessons taught in a different city by people I didn't want to remember made me always memorize the way around and away the places to hide; it used to be the places a small body could hide until dawn, but now-.
Shaking my head, I let my dreads cover my eyes for a split second before I focused on the feeling of my boots hitting asphalt, concrete, grass, and then repeating. All while i never lost track of the shadow going house to house, sometimes it would stop and enter a home before coming out with more other time it would stop as she caught her breath and surveyed the area around, more ethen once i was almost caught, but again skills forced into me told me how to blend into the shadows, how to make my silhouette smaller.
"Don't chase the rabbit, Marcel."
Letting out another breath, a voice snuck into my head, a memory, a phrase, and then I was smashing through the night again. After what felt like an hour of running, when she finally ducked into a train station entrance, I slowly followed her inside, always staying around a corner, constantly hunching my shoulder and shuffling my step.
When she jumped the aisle, I paid. When she slid through what little of a crowd there was at this time of night, I moved with it instead. When she slid through a closing door, I stepped into the cabin next to it. We rode in it, her standing and me sitting, for another thirty minutes until we were in Manhattan proper.
She waited until the last second to slip out, but I had already stepped out. She inched closer to the door, telling me our stop before she squeezed through the closing door. Then we were moving. She waited until the crowd cleared up a bit before walking down the train tunnel. I didn't follow; instead, I waited until I couldn't see her before following. His skills receded and were replaced with the ones Uncle Ben had taught me.
I found the trial she left, where the dust was too light, where the stone was worn down, all while the rails cut gleaming trails through the tunnel. Finally, I found a door. At first, I was tempted to walk past, following the trail that continued into the darkness, but the voice of Uncle Ben telling me to slow down and look to double back if needed made me stop. Anything outside of the normal was always to be investigated. The door was dirty, covered in dirt, dented, rusted, and all, while the signs that had once detailed its use barely hung on. However, what it wasn't was dusty. Dust was light; it moved with the air with motion, while dirt came from use, a difference that was the key that had me twisting the knob and pushing the door open.
As I pushed the door open, I was greeted with dark, foreboding stairs along the traveled pipes and cables. I immediately crouched after entering, inspecting the first step. I looked for signs of passage, dirty footsteps, something. Slowly, I scanned each step, one after the other. I found nothing until I spotted a footprint on a corner, five steps up. I had suspected she probably leaped, given that she had done so earlier while traversing rooftop to rooftop.
Her footprints are smaller than mine, and if our cat burglar paid as much attention as I thought she did, I'd rather not leave my own trail. Slowly, I took off my boots. I had been careful to watch my step so far, but now I wouldn't risk it. Instead, I tied the laces there and hung them over my neck before I leaped upwards, and slowly began to climb. I had avoided the lost pipes and cables, where signs of climbing would be obvious. As I climbed the tunnel, I slowly pushed forward and up. At one point, I had to climb sideways. My socks had long become grey, disgusting things covered in things I didn't want to think about.
Eventually, I was level with a walkway that clearly had signs of travel. I dropped down. I waited and listened. My arms were burning, but manageable. It felt like three in the morning. My body wanted to sleep, but instead, I pushed forward. Following the trail, I walked past dozens of doors, and hundreds of pipes and cables leaving and entering walls at various points.
Instead of following the traffic, the trails that showed dozens of people's passage, I followed the lightest of the trails, marked by half steps and sudden, graceful leaps. After following it, I eventually found another door, this time locked.
I wanted to groan at this, but instead, I pulled my wallet free and pulled out something Ned had conjured up. It was a card in shape, but way thicker. With a tap of my finger, a small metal tube was pushed free; it was the size of a key but ridged. Pushing it inside the door's keyhole, I waited until I heard the sounds of electrical whirring to stop before twisting both the gadget and the doorknob.
The invention was relatively simple and extremely sensitive, but sturdy pistons lifted the pins individually until they felt less resistance, which meant the pins had entered their respective grooves.
Pushing the door open, I walked out of a maintenance door and into a subway overpass. I didn't panic; I slowly closed the door and looked around. Below, the few early risers and late-night owls were moving around. To my left was a ladder that led down to another platform that led even further down, and to my right was a ladder that led up to an access hatch to the overpass's roof.
I went left. Logic says that if she wanted to go further, she would have stayed on the train or just gotten on another at a connecting station.
Walking to the ladder, I looked up. The access hatch was painted steel grey, with the only pieces of color being the text and a red handle. I climbed up and twisted the handle while pushing. After a little more climbing, I was on the roof, closing the hatch slowly behind me.
Taking a deep breath, I took in the fresh air compared to the tunnels I had been in and let the tenseness in my body fade before looking around. While I took my time following the cat burglar, I didn't move slowly. My body was tired, but a steady beat in my chest kept me moving. That same thing that kept poking its ugly head at all the wrong moments wanted me to chase, and for once, I wanted to listen. Looking up, I scanned the rooftops and around me.
Unlike before, it wasn't a sudden movement or a trail that caught my eye, but a literal sign. In the distance, I could see a building marking the New York night sky. It was rather plain, but atop it rested a sign in an outdated font that read "The Jewel," under it rested an illustrated diamond.
A part of me yelled that she was there, she was there, I didn't yet know but her, but the rational part of my brain told me a cat burglar won't be staying in an abandoned building named The Jewel.
Sighing, I started running towards it. It was as stupid, as it was plausible, and I was long past thinking straight. From the station's roof, I leaped to the top of an apartment building, and from there I leaped upwards and onto an edge before pulling myself up. Then I was moving again. It wasn't long before I stood next to the jewel, but before I moved, I stood and let everything sink in. I had followed a thief across the damn city, probably broken a few laws, and for what reason? I mean, my cat was a pretty good reason. Still, pops had said she would reappear in a few hours a day max, the hoodie was also a good reason, but at the end of the day, it was just a hoodie.
Every logical part of me told me to turn back, climb my ass down, go home, take a long hot shower, and just rest, but a deeper part—a part that had screamed at me for almost my whole life—urged me forward. Worse, I felt excited—oh, so excited. Taking a deep breath, I looked around, looking for a reason to leave, but instead, I caught a glimpse of white hair sneaking inside from an awkward exit.
"Fuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk"
Turing, I ran to the far edge where I could see a fire escape. As I got close, I slowed, but not to catch the edge. Still, in preparation to leap, on the far side of the alley, there was another fire escape, and I felt the wind across my face, and then I was smashing into steel and brick. Still, before I could feel any pain, I was leaping off the side and catching myself in the rails of the level below me, and then letting go, my core, my shoulders, and everything hurt, but it had long transitions to a fire that made me feel alive by the time I was on the ground.
Boots still off, my feet hurt, but I didn't care; instead, I just ran harder. I was getting close to the jewel's emergency exit door, but it was locked. I didn't panic; instead, I looked around while slowly bending over and untied my boots to put them back on. But before I did, I took my socks off and threw them into a nearby trash can.
Once my boots were back on, I moved again, this time a slow jog around the side and towards the back, towards a loading bay that I had a feeling would be there. And indeed it was, but the pace was boarded up and locked tight.
Looking up, I saw a window I could get in if I could climb up… like fifteen feet. Sighing again, I climbed over the gate and over the boarded doors and up, reach pull hang, reach pull hang, reach pull hang, slowly and steadily I made my way up until I reached the window, tugging upwards at it. The window's rusty latch tried and failed to keep me out, but it failed. Leaning inwards, I let my body fall inwards just in time, as both my legs and arms gave out, depositing unceremoniously onto a red carpeted floor that smelled of cat and mold.
But at that moment, I didn't care. I lay there, body hurting for a while, and I didn't bother getting up until I heard the familiar sounds. First was Peter's voice, then it was mine. I could hear the low and steady sound coming from above me. At that, I pushed myself up as that fire lit again. I knew why I was here, not because of the hoodie or my lovely cat, but because she had taken something dear to me. The chase had made me forget it had cured my lifelong case of deja vu, but now it was time to retrieve my music.
Slowly, I made my way through what appeared to be an abandoned hotel until I found the building's stairs that seemed to lead upwards, but instead, I ignored them and continued to walk around as quietly as I could until I saw the building's elevator. I didn't bother pressing it; instead, I took out something else this time, something Uncle Ben gave me for my 16th birthday last year. It was a steel knife, polished with a black band wrapped in paracord—more tool than weapon. Looking over the elevator, I realized it was one of the older ones that opened horizontally instead of vertically. Still, my plan hadn't changed as I slowly shoved my knife into the small gap between the doors and pushed downwards. At first, it didn't want to budge, but after a while, it did. I was patient; forcing things to go faster would do nothing but make noise. When the door was wide enough for me to fit, I simply leaned in while bringing my leg up and over before resting my weight on a little ledge inside the elevator shaft.
Once inside completely, I straightened my back and looked up and down, as I suspected the elevator was an old freight-style elevator and was already at the bottom. With the cable pulled tight with tension, placing the boot back into its sheath on my back, I prepared to do more climbing.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I made my way up and up, stopping at each floor briefly to listen for music. It wasn't until I reached the highest floor that I could hear noises coming from inside, not the faint echoes.
Leaning over, I placed my hand on the ledge and brought myself over. From this side, I could see the manual access levers that would open the door. The only problem was that they were rusted to all hell and back. Looking around, I tried to find a different way in an access hatch, a second-dry entry, something. After a solid minute of looking, I found nothing. Sighing, I pulled free my knife again and slowly, ever so carefully, slipped it between the two door slats and pressed downwards until I could reach my hand through and push down. Each movement of the door resulted in my stopping and slowing as I tried to avoid making noise. After a full six minutes of this, the door was finally wide enough for me to fit through, barely.
Doing exactly that, it was long before I was inside. From the floor, I could clearly hear the sounds of my last performance playing on repeat, not loud enough to be heard outside or even on the lowest of floors, but loud enough for someone to enjoy every musical note and instrument.
Crouch walking, I made my way to the end of the hallway. The doors here were more spaced out for larger rooms. The one from which the music originated was the only double door and the only door on that side., when i finally made my way to the door itself it wasn't even locked but it was closed tight, cursing under my breath i once again pulled free my gadget but this time i tapped something different and out from the opposite side of the rod came a flat hook, wedging it between the double doors i slowly slid it upwards until the hook latched onto the latchbolt before i slowly pulled backwards on both the hood and door,
As I did so, the hook slowly undid the latch, and then the door was freely swinging at my pull. Standing up straight, I walked into the room, this time only caring enough to watch my step. Before long, I stood in an open-space lounge area, covered in deep reds and black. It was obviously meant to be luxurious. Spinning in a full circle, I said boxes and boxes of what appeared to be stolen items, decorating the place in the same quantity as gold trim and fake jewels.
Looking past all of that, I looked more at the room itself. The room itself was dark. Still, a few lights had power and provided enough light to see, but barely. Reorienting myself with the door, I looked to the other side of the room where floor-to-ceiling windows stood, blacked out with newspapers and black tape; the few that still had curtains had those drawn as well. The flooring was carpeted and was well taken care of, unlike the ones in the hallway. On the left side of the room was what appeared to be a staircase that led up to a second level, and on the right was a complete kitchen set with appliances that looked a decade old at best.
I went left, the sounds of music unraveling from that direction. The stairs were carved things that swept in a crescent shape upwards, the rails a deep red topped in gold. It was all gaudy and extravagant. At the top of the stairs, I speeded another double door to the right. Directly across from the stairs was a single door, but up this close, I could hear the music clearly coming from beyond the double doors.
Instead of walking through them, I slowly crept my way past them and to the single door. The knob was one of the lever sort, where you pressed down with your thumb. Doing so, I heard a soft click that was barely audible, with me being right in front of it. Slowly swinging it open, I was greeted with a white marble and gold bathroom. On the far left, a large tub rested, and on the right, hidden behind an alcove, a toilet and, across from it, a sink, both made of marble or marble look-alike, and furnished with gold accents.
Pushing past it all, I spotted another door, this one a regal single affair, like the previous one, but it clearly led to the suite's room, and even from halfway inside, I could hear music playing. Walking over, I pushed the already ajar door open. Once inside, I was greeted with the full bellow of none other than myself as for what felt like the tenth time my performance played.
The bathroom door was separated from the main room by a mini hallway that transitioned to a hallway. Walking down it, I didn't bother crouching; something inside me had been telling me I would be fine from the second I entered this place, but I had ignored it until now. It's not that I trusted it; no experiences told me otherwise. Instead, it was the fact that I was tired, and honestly, I just wanted to sit down.
When I reached the point where the wall became a half wall, I could see a woman whose skin was glowing with sweat, her cheeks and exposed chest flushed with red. She lay on an extremely oversized bed covered with cats and….jewelry.
Her snow-white hair was splayed out chaotically behind her, resembling both freshly laid snow and a halo. She just lay there breathing hard, dressed in a loose-fitting black crop top, aided by its low neckline, which exposed everything but her areolas, more sensitive areas. Trailing my eyes down, I saw that below her, she had on form-fitting black leggings that admittedly were rather tight and low-rise.
Taking off my black jacket, I lowered it to the ground and leaned again against the half wall before opening my mouth, a grin already forming.
"Normally thieves sell what they steal, not…hoard it"
At my words, the woman's head snapped to me. This close and with somewhat proper lighting, I could see she was younger than I thought. There was no way she was twenty, and her snow-white hair was more like white silver, more shiny than luster.
When she locked eyes with me, her body tensed before relaxing more than i thought appropriate.
"Hello tigerrrrrr"
The way she rolled the letter, dragged it across the air like a claw, had no right to dig at me how it did, the purr, had my body exhaustion receding in place of something else.
Catching my wandering eyes, I readjusted my position, all while Peter and I's voices rang out, singing to save our very lives.
"Nikenames already, how presumptuous. I get we've broken into each other's homes, but slow down. We still have - all night."
Her lips quirked up at my words in a grin as if I had handed her dessert.
"Careful there, you don't break into a girl's room and offer up things you cannot uphold."
Her words were like an ill-timed reminder of why I came, tensing, I shifted my body once more.
"You broke in first, little Miss Cat Burglar."
I let my words out low and slow, while she slowly turned to her side, her loose crop top shifting with her breath.
"Mhhhh, I suppose, so what now, panther?"
As she spoke, she slowly curled around, never breaking eye contact. Her body bent and stretched, and her clothes shifted to almost be indecent, but never crossing the line. All while her tone shifted between playful and seductive.
Swallowing, I let my eye wander across her body.
" Now I take what's mine."
At my words, she didn't so much as speak; instead, she stretched her entire body, large breasts damn near falling out of the crop top, as her leggings rode just a little lower.
I did my best to ignore her. Slowly, I reached down and grabbed my jacket, never once leaving eye contact. Even slower, I moved from around the half wall towards her. Now, I didn't bother to muffle my steps, instead letting each footfall reverberate with my weight.
As I moved towards her, I watched and listened as she slowly began to purr contentedly in anticipation of what was about to happen. As I reached the bed, I knelt down and reached out. Without a word, she leaned in towards my touch, but instead of her, I went for my Felicia and scooped her up in one hand.
As I did so, one little cat began to purr as the other stopped. Pulling my arm back, I pulled the now purring kitten with me and moved a step backwards before turning towards the origin point of the music. On the far side of the room stood a dresser covered with different things, like makeup and other personal items. Most importantly, sitting in the middle was a laptop with a cable connecting it to my hard drive.
Slowly walking over, I kept the woman in my peripheral vision, as I moved away, her body slowly fell down. It collapsed, going from carrying an erotic energy that made me want to take what little she had off to and morphed into lingering temptation at the idea of what could have been.
As I slowly approached the computer, she never moved beyond what was necessary to keep me in her line of sight. When I finally approached the computer, I turned my back to her. It was stupid, but that voice told me I trusted her. She was a cat with claws, but currently, I was just a ball of yarn and not a mouse.
Tapping on the laptop's keyboard, I watched it come alive, then I was frozen. The lock screen was an art piece, one of mine. Then, it all came crashing down. My head was in that moment, but suddenly, I remembered her. She was her. The cat burglar was the woman from the performance at the concert. Something in mind didn't want me to connect the two, but that was gone now.
By the time I realized I had been standing there, the woman's arms were draped around my shoulders and fell to my chest, and her breath whispered across the back of my neck and ear.
"Are you admiring me or your artwork…"
Her words had more of an effect on me than anything she had said before. With each husky syllable, the night in the warehouse replayed itself, and the memory of her body leaning against mine while we sang, it etched something new and primal into the walls of my soul.
At this moment, in this space, I wanted to lay her on her bed around her stolen treasure and slowly see what sounds I could make that pretty mouth of hers make tonight.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I reached out to the keyboard, my mind an adle machin,e and began to enter the password, I didn't know it, I had no fucking clue, but that part of my brain that was howling in this moment knew and it whispered it.
"BlackCat"
No spaces, capital B, capital C, and then I was in. At my actions, I felt her tense. Still, she didn't move. The lock screen was the one and only painting I did over her, where I had drawn her in a silky black dress dusted with diamonds that shone like stars. The home screen was a collage of all my art, most of it hers, but some were drawings and sketches of cool cars, the city skyline, and other scenery.
I could feel her leaning forward now, her breast being pushed against my back hard, numbing my back. Slowly breathing, I adjusted my stance to support the new weight better before I dragged my finger across the laptop's touchpad and towards the file logo. Now that I was on the computer itself, I noticed it was the latest in Stark Industries that had been pushed out, probably running the best specs and definitely stolen.
Tapping on the files open, I froze again. In one hand, I had a cat, and in the other, I was using it to work the laptop, so currently, I had no free hands to stop the other cat, this one more woman-shaped, from slowly trailing her tongue across my neck.
As I slowly felt her licking stop, I let out a sigh of relief as shivers travelled down my spine and something in my pants grew. Then she was latched onto the side of my neck, slightly pointed canines digging into my neck as she bit down and sucked. It felt weird, as if it was October again, and she was a vampire, not a cat burglar. Groaning, I gave in only a little, fair after all. Setting Felicia down on the dresser, I watched as she found an open space and lay down. With my now free left hand, I dragged it behind me until I could feel soft, plush leggings-clad thighs in my hand. And I touched her, I felt a soft reverberation flow from her part, moan, part groan, part purr, but all pleasure.
" Do I have your attention now, panther?"
Slowly, she pulled from my neck to speak her words, a slow, sultry thing.
Turning slowly beneath her, I looked up at her, with her hair falling around us like a wedding shroud. Speaking, I kept my tone low, barely audible over the music.
"No, kitten, you'll have to work harder for that, but now you have my time."
At my words, her smile faded a little before coming back sharp. Slowly, she lowered herself to me until her lips met mine. The kiss wasn't something erotic or needy; it was slow and probing. Both of us prodigiously probed the other. It was at this moment that I realized just how small she was. While she had a fit stomach coming down to a small waist before flaring out into wide hips, she was the perfect hourglass shape, and she was blessed with breasts that were more than a grand full and ass twice that, it was all packed on a small, lithe frame. No taller than 5 '11 if that, if it weren't for her leaning off the bed, I would tower over her, thanks to my latest growth spurt putting me in the six-foot region and my wider frame layered with muscle.
I knew if I wanted, I could engulf her, pull her down, and wrap myself around her, but I didn't; instead, I slowly pulled away and turned my back to her.
My actions didn't seem to upset her, as instead she took up her position, resisting her body weight against me, but now she tried a hand down my front, touching my pectorals.
"Do I get to know anything about the cat burglar that managed to steal my first kiss on top of my cat?"
As I spoke, I felt the woman let out a teasing giggle that again did things to my body that would've killed a lesser man.
"Mhhhhhhhhhhh, black cats the name panther, thieves the game"
Her words came out in a sing-song tone as I found my way through the files and to where my hard drive was connected. I let out a throaty laugh when she was done. The thought of the voice being right was scary, but oh, so funny.
"I assumed as much"
I was met with her tilted head as I turned my head just a fraction. This close, I could see her eyes were a dazzling shade of blue, but I could also see green speckles reflecting light at me.
" How about we play a new game, Kitty? For everything real you tell me, I'll leave you a song."
As I spoke, I felt the grin that had been plastered on my face morph into a Cheshire cat-like smile, but to my surprise, I could see her sultry one do the same as we locked eyes.
"Deal pantherrrrrrrr"
And then she was doing it again. Her voice purred the last "pantherrrrrr," and it curled in my head like smoke I couldn't fan away. I smirked, letting my eyes wander over her face — that half-mocking, half-daring grin — and answered without looking away. But inside my mind, fogged with thoughts running a mile a minute.
"Then start small, kitty. Something real, something you"
At my words, she froze, but before I could take pride in having the same effect on her as she did on me, she was speaking again.
"Because you don't play the same game as everyone else. You sing like you're bleeding and laugh like you don't care who hears it. That makes you interesting, shiny, and something new."
She spoke, and I could feel her lips brushing against my ear as I returned to the computer. Her breath was hot, and it felt nice against the cold December air that still slowly permeated the penthouse.
Then I was back, my mind clawing its way back through the fog. Slowly exhaling through my nose, I slowly lowered my hand and dragged a song I had recorded over. At my action, I felt Mer purr against my back. It again did things to my mind that sent me spiraling, but this time, I saw in the back of my leather suit with a low-cut center slit exposing her breast, the edges of the fabric were adorned with white fur.
Then I was back and speaking.
"Shiny, huh? Sorry to burst your bubble, kitten, but I'm not just a diamond you grab; you'll have to dig and work to get me."
Behind me, I felt her shift — just a little weight change. Her breasts slid against my shoulder blades, hardened numbs drawing lines across my back through two layers of fabric, and then her chin brushed my jawline. At that moment, I knew I had her interest. Just like that night, a dare mutely declared, now she sang.
"Mmmm. Panthers like to think they're hard to catch. But all cats play eventually."
I let out a quiet laugh. She loved her cat motif, but I had been playing along this long, and I see no reason to stop.
"And all cats get declawed."
My words earned me another laugh, this one softer, a laugh that melted into a hum then into a low purr. God, the sound. It wasn't even human, couldn't be human. It vibrated through my back, into my spine, into my head. For a second, I froze again, not because I was afraid but because I wasn't sure if I wanted to push her off me… or pull her closer, visions of clays reaching for jewels she was dressed in …., then it was gone.
The duet part of the song looped in the background, our voices bleeding together on repeat. That was when it hit me: she'd been listening to us—to me—days on repeat.
I turned my head just enough to catch her eyes, and I saw that dazzling blue with sparks of green hidden like glass in water. Her grin was dangerous, daring me, and just like that night, I couldn't turn down a dare to save my life.
"Why me?"
"You could steal anything you wanted. You could follow anyone. Why come through my window?"
Her lips curled, lazy and wicked, brushing my ear again as she whispered.
"Because you don't hide, Panther. Not really. You think you do, but I see the way you live. You burn. You don't even notice it, but you're always burning. You never stop to wonder or to ponder, not like your skinny friend, no, you live in the moment, and that is rare."
Her words slithered inside my ear and down my spine before my chest tightened. I hated how much she saw and could guess with so little.
I swallowed hard, dragging my eyes back to the laptop before she could see how rattled I was. My music, everything. Stolen, but left intact. I hovered the cursor over one of the folders, and my fingers trembled—not from exhaustion, but from her. I wanted to rake my finger through her hair while I made her scream for more.
"A deal's a deal,"
My voice was dry but low, pulled from a throat that suddenly didn't want to speak. So instead, I turned back to her completely and pulled her down to the sound of us singing. I pulled her to my lips and kissed her, not a probing thing but hungry. I wasn't needy. I didn't need her. I wanted her. The voice in the back of my head hollered and screamed in joy.
Pushing her down to the oversized bed, I watch diamond necklaces, rings, and even solid cash bounce as cats scattered. Slowly, I reached down to my waist to the him of my shirt and pulled it up and over my torso. Exposing my chest, I was fit, far more fit than most would suspect, with my dreads falling free around me, I knew I painted a picture. I was fit dangerously, so my broad shoulders narrowed down to defined pecs that, even without flexing, were visible, while my waist wasn't narrow; all of me came to a sharp V-shape.
Even slower than before, I reached for my pants, basic black sweats I had put on for warmth and comfort. Digging my thumbs into the wait line, I slowly pushed them down as my feet pried themselves free from my boots.
By the time I stood naked in front of her sprawling body, she was purring audibly, something that made the air around her hum. Her eyes traced every inch of my body as if she intended to carve it into marble later.
When her eyes lowered to the part of me that stood at attention, blood pumping through it, causing veins to be visible at the base and along the shaft, her purring had stopped as her eyes widened.
I was well endowed, eight inches long and wide enough to look twice, slowly was the vibe of tonight, so slowly I lowered myself over her, I didn't bother stripping her yet instead i slowly bent my head down to her neck and bit down down, as gently as i could i felt a vein under my teeth and then i began to suckle.
My actions caused her to cry out; it was a low guttural moan. I didn't say they were long, slowly, oh so slowly. I pulled away her skin, which was marked. A print from my teeth left there shunned my red skin that would soon bruise.
Moving down, I trailed a line of kisses down. When I reached her collarbone, I slowly ran my hands up under her loose crop top and pulled it up and over, exposing her soft, full breasts that were topped with pale pink areolas and already hardened nipples.
Moving my head down, I brought one into my mouth and began to suckle again, but this time I slowly trailed my hand down her stomach and into the low-rise leggings she had on. As my hand slipped inside, I could feel that she didn't have any panties on. As I slid my hand further, I started to feel short-course hair atop her mound.
Mentally, as I divided my focus, I wondered if the carpet matched the drapes so slowly, I released her nipple and started my task of leaving kisses and marking down her pale skin, all the while, my fingers slowly found her labia, and I could feel that she was already wet. As I rested my finger against her entrance, I could feel her pressing her hips against my hand. I resisted pressing them; instead, I slowly applied pressure and dragged my fingers through her lower lips.
With each kiss and every pass of my fingers, they came back wetter until I pulled my hand free. She was breathing heavily, but as I looked up towards her, I could see her looking down at me. No words were said, no dare was issued. I knew I could stop here, and she wouldn't chase or beg. So I continued, lowering myself again this time. I reached for the pants line and pulled, slowly I pulled them down, first to greet me was a snow white mound nearly shaven and kept, like everything else about her.
As I pulled further, I revealed glistening red lips already red and swollen; her labia was the tuck kind, hiding her entrance from my sight, but even now I could see a swollen, glistening red nipple poking its head out from between.
Without waiting like a starved man, I latched my lips to it and began to run my tongue along it in slow circling patterns, as her black cat was reaching down into my dreads and running her finger through my scalp as she pushed me further down.
I greedily open my mouth wider as I engulf her. As I did, I tasted her; in her entirety, beyond the salt of sweat, she tasted sweet but tart; she brought to mind a ripe cherry.
By the time I had run my tongue through her fold and pushed it into her entrance proper, she had clamped her legs around me and was letting out long, loud meowling moans. Like any proper man, I looked for the spots that made her body arch and breath quicken.
I spent delicate minutes learning and even more practicing. I didn't bother to count how many times she shook and quivered; instead, I waited until her body fell limp beneath me to stand.
Her eyes had gone glazed and her breath heavy and labored as if I had made her work for. Kneeling on the bed, I slowly leaned over her again. I positioned my cock against her lips and pressed. As I did, I watched and waited as life returned to her eyes.
"Slow down, panther. What happened all night? "
Her words came out breathy, each one coming on the end of a long exhale. In return, all I leaned over to reveal what had initially appeared to be a wall, but what was now revealed to be a window covered in layers upon layers of newspapers. Light could not be seen shining through the spots where the newspaper was too thin.
At this sight, she let out a low purr that transitioned to a drawn-out
"fuckkkkkkk"
All black cat's body shuddered as she guided me inside her. Watching it, feeling it made me want to sink into home base, to sheath myself inside her as her walls reshaped around me.
Instead, I slowly pushed deeper as her moans transitioned into screams of pleasure. Halfway inside, vines and the shaft still visible, I slowly pulled free. My actions sent her over the edge all over again as I scraped her walls, as her body shook again and again, but before she could finish, I was pushing inside again, this time deeper.
I repeated my actions again and again, for every inch she took, I would pull out to the tip before slowly pushing in deeper. Slow, deliberate stroke as she creamed again and again, fluids building up around my cock before leaking out. By the end, she had clawed her fingers along my back, leaving long bleeding wounds.
I didn't stop, instead I slowly picked up the pace, thrust coming fast and fast, deeper and deeper, reaching down, I grabbed both her thighs and slowly pushed the open and back as I went deeper and deeper, by the time I could fit all of my girth inside, she was a sopping mess of fluids.
Pulling out once more, I looked down to see my cock coated in her fluids, a creamy mirage of pleasure, then I was slamming home again and releasing everything I had, as I felt her finger dig deeper and the walls spasm.
As I finished, I stepped back and observed my work. Black cat lay there, hair somehow not at all tangled, arms and legs splayed out in an erotic snow angle ever to be seen, all while my cum slowly leaked out from between her lips, now completely red and swollen, with her clit prominently there, pink and sore.
My shaft was still leaking both her fluid and mine onto the ground, smiling mischievously I walked over to the side of the bed and slowly lowered my cock to her face, as i did i watched as life and awareness replaced the fog that had consumed her, as it did she let out a long sigh and a short purr as she reached between her now slowly closing legs.
When she finally noticed me and where my cock was now, she did hesitate, then, taking me into her mouth, she slowly worked her way down, slurping up every drop she could get and occasionally swallowing. When my cock reached the back of her throat i felt it open for me as she literally swallowed me, it was now my turn to get lost in the fog and as i did i felt her let out a slow purr that rumbled through my cock and eventually sent me shooting cum down her throat, I tried to pull away but as i did she slowly bite down, and didnt let up until i pushed myself back to the hilt and down her throat, her face was shoved into crotch until finally i released everything i had.
When I was finally done, I slowly pulled myself free before falling down. I could feel something poking into my wether, it was either jewelry or raw, uncut diamonds. I didn't care. Looking over, I saw a black cat lying there, its eyes already slowly closing, but before I could process a thought, let alone form a sentence, she was speaking.
"You'll have to leave soon, too much foot traffic during the day to leave safely."
Her words came out in a low husky tone. I thought about asking if that was her way of telling me to leave or an invitation to stay, but I honestly needed to leave. Pop and Ma would be pissed if I stayed gone all day, even if it was the weekend.
Rolling over the bed, I scanned the room. While it was a mess, it was the type of mess the breed aesthetic, it wasn't clothes or trash littering the room, but instead money, jewels, and jewelry, looking to the floor I reached down and grabbed my pants and jacket which was a leather piece that i had found at a thrift shop not long ago, looking at my shirt i thought about it but currently it had stains of a very well known origin on it.
Sighing, I walked past it for now and towards the laptop once more. As I crossed the room, I could hear the black cat's slow breath until it eventually became rhythmic and deep. Ignoring it, I reached the laptop and copied all of my finished projects to her laptop before disconnecting my hard drive and picking it up, then Felicia I turned to the door.
Walking towards the room's main door, I slowly put my clothes back on and ensured I had everything before leaving…. Scanning the room once more, I looked for my fantastic four hoodie, but I couldn't see it in her room, so I didn't linger any longer and instead twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Once through, I closed it behind me and began walking towards the stairs and down them. As I did, I noticed far more cats than I did and earlier, scanning the room, I counted maybe twenty cats. All looked healthy and well taken care of, which honestly surprised me, but I supposed it shouldn't have.
At the bottom of the stairs, I was greeted by a ginger tabby cat that looked at me as if I had ruined its life, before running up the stairs behind me and into black cat's room. Through the bathroom doors I had left open.
Chuckling, I kept walking, eventually making my way to the penthouse door. As I approached the door, I noticed my hoodie in a recessed alcove next to it. I mean, it wasn't the only one; there were dozens of coats and jackets, all but mine looking to be sized for women, but it was still my hoodie in front of me.
With a newly found skip in my step, I grabbed my hoodie and threw it over my shoulder. While I could've put it on, and it would've been better than walking around shirtless, I didn't feel like taking off a jacket I had already put on.