PUGILIST

by Peter Hallett

  I turned back to the diner as the car exited the parking lot. The customers were returning to their seats. The waitress was walking toward me. She had her arms folded, trying to shield her flesh from the cold. I noticed my hands were still fists, so I slowly let my fingers unfold.

  The waitress held one of her hands out for me to take. She smiled and I placed my bloodied knuckles in her palm. She embraced my injury with her youthful flesh, her dainty fingers shaking as she did.

  She led me back inside the diner. The customers gave me a round of applause. All I can remember from that moment, until I was back in the kitchen, is the room blurring and the sound of their clapping hands becoming muffled and distorted as my brow furrowed and a drop of sweat ran from my right temple, over my cheek and to my lips, forcing me to sample salt...

  The metal of the Humvee had warped, bent and split. Flames from the automobile-bonfire were licking upward in biting jolts. Smoke was clouding into the sky and blocking out the diminutive light the full moon gave.

  The vehicle door opened a little, then fully. More flames leaked free from inside and curled over the roof to join the others in an embrace of earthy consuming hell.

  My fellow soldier, my brother in arms, my brother by blood, fell onto the road. The inferno had engulfed him and the blast had removed one of his arms from the elbow down. His skin was charred black, red and syrupy. His hair was gone and his whole body was smoking black swirls of toxic.

  Tears fell from my stinging and white-blotched eyes as the medic dragged me from the carnage as more soldiers ran into my blurred vision, their boots impacting with the sand, muffled silence to my ringing ears and pounding skull...

  “Thank you.”

  The sound of her voice was a saintly blade that cut through the madness in my mind and returned me to the real world. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and took a deep breath.

  “Thank you, from both of us.” That was the chef. He was back at the grill, flipping a burger that had begun to burn.

  I let myself find tranquility in the jade of the waitress’s eyes. “Don’t mention it, ma’am.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked as she raised her little hand to my face and brushed the back of her silk-like fingers over my cheek, her flesh shaking against mine.

  “I’m okay.” I swallowed and took a moment to let my breathing return to normal and enjoy the sensation of her hand gracing my flesh with her innocent touch. It was a miraculous feeling to have her skin caressing mine with her anxious movement. Fate was embracing my flesh... and it felt beautiful. “Are you okay, you’re shaking?”

  She moved her hand from me and I instantly yearned for her touch again, for an extension of my fulfillment. She held the hand she’d had on me in her other, to try and settle her shakes. I noticed my blood had stained her.

  “I’m a little shook up,” she said as she tried to force a smile.

  I grabbed a towel that was on the countertop next to me. “You have blood on your hands. Wash them.”

  “You do too.” She motioned with her chin at my knuckles. Her lips were slightly parted; her chest was slowly rising and falling.

  I placed my hand on her waist and guided her toward a faucet. I had to let a slow, long breath out as silently as possible while I fought off my need to moan from the fact I’d been able to hold her slight figure.

  I turned the faucet and water began to pour. I placed the towel on the edge of the sink and took hold of her petite and bloodied hands, my soul smiling with delight from having her skin back on mine. I moved her hands under the water with mine and washed the blood from her, our flesh adorning each other’s with lust as I caressed her clean.

  Our eyes met and our fingers instinctively locked together under the stream of water. “You’re pure again,” I said.

  I saw her swallow and felt her little finger begin to stroke my hand. “Thank you.” Her chest was rising and falling faster. The tip of her tongue snuck from inside her mouth and slowly and gently licked her lips, causing the pink they were painted to glisten in the florescent light.

  It pained me, made my heart knot, as I let go of her hands and turned off the water. I picked up the towel and nodded. She placed her hands in mine and I wrapped them in the material and dried them.

  “Come with me, to the office,” she said as she moved the towel from me and dropped it back onto the edge of the sink, her eyes never leaving mine, her chest rising and falling still, mine doing the same, our breathing synchronizing, our existence fusing, our souls coalescing.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I walked with her down a hall. She opened a wooden door and stepped inside the darkness. I followed her into the blackness and she turned on the light. It was a small room, a cheap desk, two wood chairs at one side, and a ripped leather chair on the other, the boss’s seat. There was a rusted safe and filing cabinet, and a terrible framed painting of some fishing boats on the wall above the leather chair, but that was it. No frills.

  The waitress pulled out the two wooden chairs and angled them so they were facing each other. She sat down, crossed her legs, and offered me the other chair by patting it with her hand.

  When I was seated she removed her hair from the bun and ruffled it with her fingers into a messy waterfall of silky beauty. It was as if her actions were in slow-motion, like when the love interest is introduced to the hero for the first time in a cheesy movie, or like in a commercial for shampoo, soft focus camera work and all.

  “Are your knuckles okay?” she asked me as she placed one of her small hands on my leg. My heart instantly sped up and I had to take a controlled breath to make sure my voice wouldn’t be shaking when I answered her.

  “They’re fine. Thank you for the concern, ma’am.” I moved my hand to hers, wrapped her daintiness in my large size and locked her flesh in my fingers. She looked at the hands, her chest rose and fell, and then she locked her green eyes to mine again.

  “Thank you for what you did. It really means a lot.”

  “You don’t have to thank me.” I brushed my thumb over her smooth skin. Electricity coursed through my body and the sparks that crackled from our touch ignited a passion I’d never felt for anyone.

  “It was nice having you look out for me. I’d like to repay you. You said you needed a job; well I have an opening for a dishwasher. It’s not much money, and long hours, but it’s yours, if you’d like it?”

  “I would. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “You can start tomorrow, if you’d like? The opening times are on the door, just show up thirty minutes before we open... And before you ask, I don’t have to clear this with my boss. I’m the boss, as strange as it might seem for an eighteen-year-old waitress to be the boss of a diner... My daddy owns the place. It was a gift.

  “It’s a strange gift, isn’t it? He owns a hell of a lot of businesses around here, he figured I should work, even if I don’t really need to because of his cash, but he thought it would afford me the chance to understand the real value of money, if I had the experience of having to work for it. You met my daddy, he was the guy in the suit, in the car outside earlier.”

  She was speaking at speed, rambling almost. Her foot was tapping on the floor. The hand I was holding was shaking, she was still shook up pretty bad from what had happened.

  I moved my other hand to her face. I placed my finger over her tiny lips. “Hush. Slow your breathing. You need to calm down.” Her warm breath caressed my finger as her soft lips lightly brushed against it. “It’s all over. You’re safe with me.”

  She kissed my finger, blithely pressed her lips to it. I let out a quick, breathy gasp of satisfaction. She moved her free hand and drew my finger down her lips, her soft flesh petting my older skin with warmth.

  When the fingertip touched her bottom lip she slowly parted her pink-painted flesh and gently slipped the tip into her mouth. She softly sucked the tip of my finger as a little moan escaped my lips and my cock hardened and throbbed. She swirled her tongue over the f
ingertip, once, and then pulled my finger from her mouth. She kept hold of my hand and placed it on her leg.

  My heart was pounding. I was having trouble breathing, and so was she. She just stared at me for a moment. I prolonged the silence just as she was about to speak by leaning into her and kissing her.

  Our kiss was slow, passionate, full of fire and want as we each tried to consume the essence of the other, not wanting to just taste each other’s flavors, but needing to inject a portion of each other’s soul into our own, to merge our inner beings into one entity.

  Suddenly she stopped the kiss, and turned her head from me to look at the floor. “I’m sorry. We can’t do this.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I can’t say. It’s too... dangerous, for both of us.” She slowly raised her head back to me. A tear appeared in the corner of her eye. As she forced a smile the tear ran down her cheek. She moved her hand to wipe it from her face. I stopped her and moved my lips to her flesh once more, kissing the tear, removing her pain and the salty wetness with my lips.

  “I don’t know why you’re crying, but I’d like you to know this; as long as I’m in your life, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you. No one will hurt you.”

  “Do something for me.”

  “Anything, ma’am.”

  “Tell me how you’d look after me, if I came home in need of care and love.”

  “When you walk into the apartment... the lights are off. The room is lit by dozens of small candles, shadows flicker and dance; an orange hue warms the furnishings and bronzes my skin... I’m naked, stood waiting for you, my... cock already semi-hard from just the anticipation of your arrival alone.”

  I’d spent hours with a notepad when I had some free time during my tour, writing page after page of what I wanted to be waiting for me when I returned home. It was all fantasy though, I didn’t have a girl to call my own. I hadn’t had one for a very long time, but writing gave me some form of comfort, allowed me to escape my surroundings and enter my own head in a safe way, free from the demons that had already started to take hold of my thoughts because of the atrocious sights I’d seen.

  “I greet you with a smile, walk slowly toward you, my long shaft swinging on each step I take. I take hold of your little hand and lead you fully inside, closing the door behind us.

  “I give you a gentle kiss, lightly brushing my lips on yours as I move my hands to the small of your back and press you closer to me, so your breasts are pushed to my muscled chest and my throbbing, fully erect cock is encompassed by our embrace.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was wise to be so graphic with my description, but it was super arousing being in the presence of such a beautiful girl as I told her my dirty thoughts, that was for sure. Getting to watch her, her hastened breathing, her chest rising and falling, her lips parted slightly, as she listened to me just made me want her even more.

  “I move my hands to your butt, my fingertips dancing over the curve of your rump before they find the hem of your skirt and slowly lift the material far enough from your body so I can gently massage your ass.

  “You put your hands on my shoulders and move me back to your mouth. As you kiss me, sliding your tongue into my mouth to swirl wetness, I feel you smiling, your teeth on my lips.

  “You move one of your hands between us, searching for the hardness that’s pressed to you, but I gently stop you by taking hold of your wrist, my hand feeling massive wrapped around your flesh. I stop the kiss, you moan, wanting to taste more man, and I lead you to the sofa.”

  I was shocked I’d been able to memorize what I’d written so well. It just shows how focused I was on what I wanted when on tour, and what I wanted was far from the reality I was faced with at that time.

  “I slip my finger under the waist of your skirt and pull it down. I let it fall naturally to the floor when it reaches your thighs. You step from it, your heels clicking on the wooden floor. You’re wearing black panties, lace. I get a small sample of your arousal as it drifts to my nostrils. I moan from your scent and feel some of my excitement drip from the slit of my hard cock.”

  It was at that moment that the unmistakable scent of perfumed sex drifted to me. I drank and savored the arousal, my heart skipping a beat on each intake of air. I was turning her on; she was getting wet from my words alone. I knew she’d love having my cock in her, if my words had that effect on her. I figured once I’d finished my story I’d be in her wetness, drowning my rigidity with her smooth passion.

  “I pull the cashmere sweater you’re wearing over your head and drop it to the floor. You’re not wearing a bra. Your puffy nipples are hard. The light flickering from the candles embraces your pale skin and turns you into a youthful goddess in front of my eyes.

  “I sit you on the sofa and I kneel on the floor in front of you. I slowly remove your shoes and place them behind me. I gently massage your feet and you let out a long and deep breath. I slide my hands up your legs, massaging your flesh as they travel over your beautiful form.”

  Her butt shifted on her chair slightly, like she wanted to hump the air as some form of alleviation, something to ease the ache she had, before I would quell her yearning for me.

  “I walk my fingertips over your flat stomach, toward your heart. I feel the rhythm of your beating love and enjoy the sight of your chest rising and falling as you lock your eyes to mine, the flames of the candles reflected in the jade-green, a halo for your pupils.

  “I kneel up, move my hands to one of your perky tits and surround the fledging flesh with my own weathered skin as I dip my head to you and take your hard nipple into my mouth. I suck gently, tracing my tongue around your nub, the tip of my wetness reading your goose pimpled areola like braille. A moan escapes your lips so I suck harder and wrestle your nipple with my tongue.”

  I was solid, my cock as hard as a diamond, pressed painfully to my pants, twitching, dancing, trickling excitement, lubing, ready to slide effortlessly into her heat.

  “I remove one of my hands from your breast, run it down your body until I find your knees. I part them, spread your legs, and move closer to the sofa, to your pussy, feeling your burning heat and smelling the lust you’re producing. I move my hand to your inner thigh, feel you shiver as it works toward your young pussy.

  “I press my palm to your untouched cunt and you wet me with your arousal. It takes every ounce of control I have not to rise up, to penetrate you with my big, hard cock, to fuck you until my prick looks like it’s been dipped in milk, but I have special plans for you so I’m patient and resist.

  “I remove my hand from you; play with your excitement, rubbing your wetness between my fingers. I pull my mouth from your nipple and you gasp. Your breathing is heavy, your loving eyes still locked on mine.

  “I stand and you move your head toward my cock. I stop you by placing my hand under your chin. You snake your tongue out. The tip touches my slit and I moan as I take a step from you. You pull a sad face. I smile and take hold of your hand. I stand you up.”

  She undid another one of her buttons on her uniform, giving me even more of a pleasing view of her fleshy cleavage and the motion of its rise and fall from her excited breathing. Her skin was flushed; she was burning up with desire, letting me glimpse more of her flesh to signal she’d soon be mine.

  “I lead you from the sofa, you walk next to me, wrap your little fingers around my thick shaft, the movement forces your palm to rub over my thick bulbous cock head, dripping my precum to the floor, leaving a trail of lust.

  “I take you into the bathroom. The room is already steamy; the shower has been running awhile. I lead you into the tub and stand behind you. We’re underneath the warm stream jetting from the showerhead. We’re quickly soaked and I enjoy the sight of your wet naked form. I watch the water run down your back, the drops snaking and twisting, gliding effortlessly over your smooth skin.

  “You look over your shoulder at me. ‘Eyes front,’ I tell you as I pick up the shampoo bottle and then lather your hair
, massaging your head, watching the foamy bubbles rush over your flesh as the showerhead blasts them from your jet-black hair.”

  She began to play with a strand of her hair, twirling it in her fingers, her eyes locked to mine, and the tip of her little tongue rested on her bottom lip. When her head tilted slightly I knew she was thinking of my taste, her lips on mine, our tongues entwined in a fiery, lustful heat.

  “I lather my hands with soap and work them over your shoulders, your back, your hips, your ass, and around to the front of your body to sponge your breasts. I move closer to you, my wet, hard cock presses to your back as I continue to wash, to massage, your young breasts as you moan.

  “Then I move my hands further downward, over your stomach then back around to your butt just before they find your pussy. I knead your wet ass cheeks; let a finger slip into the crack. I draw it down. I slide my finger into your pussy once it has run the full length of your ass. You moan, place your hands onto the wall to keep your balance as I kiss your neck.”

  She let out a breathy moan, and had to turn from me for a moment, a shy smile on her face, embarrassment reddening her cheeks slightly, adding to the glorious nature of her complexion.

  “I slowly churn your pussy, working in and out as I do. My whole hand is dripping from the shower so I risk placing another finger in. Your pussy grips both of my fingers as I slowly slide them in and out, the walls of your tightness massaging my flesh.

  “You moan and start to push your ass back toward me, meeting my motions with your own. I hold your breast with my other hand, gently pinch your nipple. You cry out and your body starts to shake. I can tell you’re getting close. I slow the pace of my finger fucking, little by little, and soon they’re not moving at all, but you’re still pressing your butt backward, begging me to continue with your young body.”

  Her hips rocked on the chair, the scent of her need increasing. I longed to taste her flavor, to drink in her cherry’s syrup before I popped it for her and made her never want any other man.

  “I slowly pull my fingers from you and you gasp. Now you beg me with words. I turn you to face me. I lift your leg and place your foot on the side of the tub. You take hold of my cock and stroke my wet hardness as you pull me toward your opening.