Canadian Love (a JeffXClaudette story) ch2

previous: Canadian love (a JeffXClaudette DBD story)

One kiss led to, well, nothing.

And it was entirely my fault.

Claudette cupped my face, her smile inches from my lips. She giggled sweetly blinking her eyes, as she moved her fingers through my facial hair. I could feel her fingernails against my skin; cold, soft, sharp. My eyes drifted closed, and for a moment I was back with Susie.“Jeff, what are you thinking about?”

I forced my eyes open before answering. “Just wondering what a girl like you could possibly see in someone like me.”

She shrugged, poking her tongue to the inside of her cheek. “I think you remind me of one of my professors.”

“I do? Did you go to school at Hogwarts school of wizardry?”

That got a laugh. “No, but college in Southern Quebec is pretty magical. The guy was a math teacher of all things, but he spoke with the soul of an artist. You have the same spirit,” Claudette said with a sweet genuine truth. She placed her finger to my lips as if to hush me. Instead, she stuck out her tongue, smiling nervously, searching for the right words. “He was a kind man, someone who always believed in people.”She brushed her lips to mine. It was a soft, delicate touch, not more than a breath.

The action barely qualified as a kiss. And yet I still recoiled. My expression scrunched as if I was face to face with Susie all over again. If Susie’s featureless mask wasn’t creepy enough, there were times she kissed me. Her mouth was abnormally large, with red leathery lips covering a long serpent tongue. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not.” Never before had I wanted so badly to die a violent final death. “You don’t deserve this.”

Instead of leaving, Claudette stayed by my side, placing her hand upon mine. “Neither do you. A beautiful soul like yours doesn’t deserve to feel like this.” She gently kissed my fingers, looking like a princess out of a Disney movie. She then took out her handmade pencils and started to draw on a flat piece of wood. “I’m going to help you learn to love yourself, again. That’s a promise.” Her kindness was endearing, a true blessing in my otherwise pathetic existence.

Somehow, I became comfortable enough to sleep. The moment I closed my eyes, I felt my body go limp, and I awoke in yet another trial. Worse, it was one of the maps with a crap ton of trash everywhere. I could get lost in the best of situations but surrounded by the yellow haze of a rotten barn and an overgrown, long dead field, it was difficult to know my head from a hole in the ground.

Still emotionally punching myself, I proceeded to trip on a rock and break my ankle. Not twist or sprain I could feel a complete break. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” Could you be any more of a screwup?

“Jesus ain’t gonna help you, boy!” That was the familiar voice of a certain sharpshooting demonic inventor. The creature known as Deathslinger was a cowboy armed with a harpoon gun that had the firepower of a rifle. This was actually a good thing since it took him a few seconds to call back his weapon before attempting to fire again. So, I had time to find cover (or at least make it a challenge for him to nail my fat ass.)

I forced myself to my feet, attempting to walk towards the sound of human voices. One step at a time, placing weight on my leg. The pain somehow seemed worse than anything I’d previously endured. Worse than being impaled, burned, poisoned. I collapsed behind a pallet, hoping that the demon would at least choose a new target.

“I see Caleb Quinn got to you!” shouted a familiar female voice. It was Meg. As usual, the former champion track athlete played the game without fear. “Make yourself useful and fix a generator.” She pointed in the direction I was headed anyway, but just to screw with her I stopped in my tracks. Meg rolled her eyes and groaned. “Whatever, Jeff, I’ll see you back in the hub world.”

I nodded politely, hopeful that she would be the monster’s next target. I suddenly felt a hand grab my upper arm.

“This way,” said a whisper. “I have a healing kit.” It wasn’t Claudette but rather Nea, a graffiti artist from Sweden. She was about the same age as my friend with a similar youthful, creative spirit, but Nea was known to be one of the bolder souls trapped in this realm. “Here, take a seat,” she said motioning to a clear space on the otherwise gravel covered floor. “We should be safe here.”

I took a seat, resting my back. She had found a place relatively hidden in the shadows of a nearby wall. there was still a chance we’d be discovered but hopefully, she’d have enough time.

“Let me see your leg.” she opened the box releasing its power. she was not as skilled as Claudette but the process of controlling the negative energy was fairly self-explanatory. “Wow, Deathslinger really did some damage.

“Nah, just me being my usual giant, clumsy self.”

Nea shook her head with a kind, compassionate smile. “You know, not everyone considers you the weakest link.”

“Thanks, I guess.” That was a backhanded compliment at best, but those were the kindest words I heard in a while. “Sometimes I feel like a less useful version of that one Harry Potter character.”

“Hagrid,” Nea said, her hands remained focused. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“That’s what I feel like, being stuck here with all you talented youngsters.”

“Youngsters?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “First, I’m not a child and second you’re aware that you’re at best the 4th oldest prisoner on the team. Right?”

“You’re right, I apologize.”

Nea giggled. “Claudette was right, you do have a beautiful smile. You’re like a sexy biker, Hagrid, with the soul of a 1960’s flowerchild.”

“Flowerchild?”

“That wasn’t an age joke, I swear!” She put down her hands, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry. Are we good?”

“Yes, thank you. I owe you one.”

“You’re going to owe me a lot more.” Nea stood up fishing a long metal object from inside her jeans.

“Is that a skeleton key?”

“I’m impressed you recognized it,” she said as she twirled the item. These haven’t been seen in ages.”

“Since the redesign,” I added. As of late, human survivors would find keys with a crown-like shape on the top. These could be used to open secret exits. No one knew who allowed us to have them or where they even appeared from. But as of late, the skeleton key had been replaced by dull, or even broken items (no doubt, to fuck with any hope we had left.) “Where did you get one?”

“Let’s just say I wished for it in my dreams.” Nea held the key in her mouth, like a piece of candy. (The image was odd, to say the least.)

“Ok, sure.” I followed her to the escape hatch. Again, this was a logically impossible feat as the hatch was meant to appear only to one person and only if that person was the last individual standing. Yet here it was, ready and available for both of us, despite the round having just started.

“Come on, Hagrid, let’s get out of here.”

“Funny.”

We slipped down the hole, into the darkness. As usual, I could not see or feel my body climb or even move but somehow, we emerged back in the hub world resting inside the remains of a hollow tree.

“Hi, guys.” Claudette was seated nearby, pressing pieces of wood using a device similar to something one would use to preserve flowers. “I was just making some drawing paper.”

“Wow,” Nea said with a sweet smirk. She put her arms around Claudette’s back, embracing her in a playful hug. “You are just so creative. Let’s all draw together. just whatever comes to mind.”

“Sure,” Claudette said cheerfully handing out her handmade pencils and papers.

“Thanks.” I started to doodle, making a series of circles that seemed to form a shape.

Nea took notice. “Are you drawing Claudette? That’s so sweet.”

Claudette looked up from her work, her eyes fluttering like a doll. “Are you?”

I looked down at my work. I could see how the shapes were coming together to form a human female with curly hair. “I guess I am.”

Claudette leaned her shoulders back, posing like an art class model. She looked down at her own artwork, letting the sleeve of her open, loose pink button-down shirt fall off her shoulder.

I was temporarily distracted by Nea sketching a rather detailed flower. Just as she finished, Nea closed her eyes, stroking her fingers through a nearby area of grass. The grass was dead, but somehow, on the lonely patch of earth grew the exact flower she had just drawn.

“Cute,” Nea muttered as she picked the flower. She twirled it between two fingers as if it was a party trick, before slipping the stem into Claudette’s hair.

“Thanks,” she replied, offering a flirty smile.

“It matches your shirt perfectly.” She glided her hands down Claudette’s shoulders revealing more of her perfect skin. Nea looked at me for a reaction. “Jeff, sweetie you seem uncomfortable. Let me take a look at your leg.”

It was only then, Claudette glanced up from her drawing. “You hurt your leg?”

“My leg is fine,” I muttered, perhaps a bit too harshly.

Nea shrugged. “Ok, whatever, if you don’t want to be touched, I’ll just touch Claudette.” She was already undressing Claudette right in front of me. “I have been told I have a talent for giving massages.”

Claudette rolled her shoulder, leaning into Nea’s affectionate touch. “Wow, that does feel nice.”

“I’m glad.” Nea’s hands lovingly caressed Claudette’s neck, down her collarbone to her chest, giving her soft, perfect breasts a tender squeeze.

Claudette continued to draw as she giggled and moaned. “Mm…what are you doing?”

“We need to show Jeff how beautiful and freeing it can be to truly relax.” She leaned in close, kissing Claudette’s ear. “And how good it can feel to be touched by someone who only desires to give pleasure.”

My dick was already hard. Nea was undressing Claudette, revealing more of her body. The women were posing for me like erotic art class models, each move was calculated to offer me the best possible view.

Nea latched on to her lover’s dark erect, nipple gliding her tongue down Claudette’s slender stomach, to her underwear. “You’re so wet. I bet you taste as good as you look.”

I watched as Nea fingered Claudette’s pussy while kissing her neck. They were fucking and I was frozen in place like a cuckhold. Even when I was finished with my sketch, having captured the intensity of their actions, their bodies, their curves, I couldn’t find the courage to make a move.

Nea seemed to find this entertaining. “Claudette, what do you think? Do you want Jeff to come and play with us?” Nea glanced at me, her green eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity as she bit her lower lip.

“Of course.” Claudette sensually removed her pants, letting the lavender moonlight of the hub world shimmer off her skin. She looked downright angelic. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

“Keep your legs spread,” Nea said as she finger fucked Claudette’s innocence. “You’re so tight.” The women kissed again, with Claudette sinking her nails into Nea’s fair skin.

Nea leaned back, savoring the intensity. “So, tell me, Jeff, how good are you at eating pussy?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m decent.” I always loved eating pussy. The offer was a rare occurrence since groupies assumed the roadies and other security would prefer to get their dicks sucked.

My mindless staring caught Nea’s attention. “Are you uncomfortable, Jeff?”

“I’m just not into this.” The angel on my shoulder was screaming in my ear. ‘What the fuck, man?’ That was not what I had meant to say. I was very much into the idea of watching two gorgeous women make love.

“Not in to what?” Nea tilted her head, licking her lips. “The act of being touched by another human being?”

Claudette seemed to agree. Completely nude, she sat on my lap, stroking her fingers through my hair. “Hey,” she said with a mix of sadness, annoyance, and concern, “Have some fun with us.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Not physically or emotionally.

“It’s easy,” she muttered, her voice still rich with compassion. “Just live in the moment, don’t close your eyes.”

I knew she had a valid point. Claudette looked nothing like Susie. Her dark skin looked human, real, unlike Susie’s doll-like body. And her hair; Claudette’s curly hair was a normal human color, a stark contrast to Susie’s neon pink.

And their voices.

Their voices could not be more different. Claudette’s emotions were as real as her kindness and virtue.

“I’ll try.”

“What’s the one thing Susie would never do to you?”

“What would she never do?” I repeated, unsure of an answer.

Claudette softly kissed my forehead down my nose, to my lips. “Let me guess, doggy style? Am I right? I figure she’d never let you have that kind of power.”

I must have been blushing, because try as I might, no words came from my lips.

“Do I look like someone who would ever hurt you?”The very question brought about feelings of shame. “No, of course not.”

“Then let me help you.” she kissed me and this time there was no recoiling out of fear.

I focused on her eyes, her lips, her hands.

“Just relax.”Claudette lifted my t-shirt, and kissed me down my stomach, to my belt. She smiled sweetly, the moonlight shimmering off her glasses. “You can do whatever you want, as long as you’re only thinking of me.” Claudette got on her knees with her ass spread like a buffet.

Nea looked on with the biggest smile on her face. If she was masturbating, I couldn’t tell. It was clear this was about me and Claudette; the one angel capable of saving my soul. Nea just wanted a front row seat.

My cock was so hard, just begging for a release. I was so tempted to fuck her from behind. I rubbed my shaft to her lips, lubing with her juices. She was already moaning like a porn star.

“This doesn’t feel right.”Claudette was as understanding as ever. “How about you lay back, and tell me what you want me to do?” She sat on my lap, rubbing her moist hands to my shaft. “Do you like how that feels?”

I wanted to fuck her, but there was something I wanted more. I leaned back, stretching my shoulders. “I want you to sit on my face.”

Claudette giggled. She removed her glasses, repositioning them on her head like a day at the beach. She lowered her wet naked pussy lips onto my mouth.

I found myself gripping her ass, as I penetrated her with my tongue.

She leaned forward catching herself as her body trembled. Her stomach muscles tightened. “Oh god yes, oh fuck, Jeff.”

I could taste her orgasm, coating my lips, down my throat.

“Wait a second,” she said, shifting her hips. “I want to try something.” She turned her body, giving me a great view of her spread legs.

I was tempted to lick her perfect asshole just to be able to taste every part of her.Claudette leaned forward, taking my cock in her warm, sensual, gifted mouth. She played with my body like a starving animal crawling across the desert for a popsicle. “You taste so good.” She went slow, licking and kissing as she covered my shaft with drool.

I could feel her grip my ass, as she made out with my dick. The way she touched me, she didn’t devour it or pump it like a carnival game. She was loving gentle and kind; worshiping every inch.I savored the taste of her juices, moving my tongue between the folds of her lips, just to get another mouthful. This was more explicit than sex. This was an act of pure trust. We were devouring each other, connected in a circuit of energy, faith, and intense desire.

I could feel myself about to blow my load in her mouth. I’d usually make an effort to warn a girl, but Claudette was no groupie looking for backstage passes. She wanted me, she cared about me. Hopefully, I tasted as good as she did. She deserved only the best.The sweet, sweaty fragrance of her throbbing cunt filled my airway. With renewed strength, I licked her clit, down her labia. I gripped her thighs, drinking the liquid of her juicy orgasm. She was climaxing over and over with every touch.When our bodies could take no more, I reclined on the cold ground, more comfortable than I’d been in a while.

Claudette wiped her lips, then rested her head on my chest, her beautiful curls caressing my skin. I was at peace, happy and free, perhaps even cured of my PTSD.Claudette reached to the side, looking for her glasses. “Note to self, do not throw your only pair of glasses.”

I held up my hand studying my fingers, my tattoos, my rings. “Was that even true?”

“What?”

“If we lost something in this realm, would it be replaced or is it lost forever?”

“I guess that all depends on the entity.”

“I couldn’t help but laugh. “Kind of like the world’s cruelest religion.”

“I think the entity could give some of those characters a run for their money,” Claudette yawned, stretching her back.

Nea was long gone, but left behind was a sketch of two figures in a loving embrace; a male with a beard and a female with curly hair and glasses. ‘What kind of power did Nea wield?’

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