“Ready?” I asked as I put a little pressure against her pussy with the tip of my cock.
She inhaled, nodded her head, and closed her eyes.
I began to fuck her savagely. Without reservation, I forced myself in and out of her soaking wet pussy as I bit her nipples and neck. My hips slapping against her inner thighs, and my cock sliding as far into her as our positioning would allow, she moaned as I did my work.
“Oh God, Mike. Oh God...” she moaned.
“Fuck yes that is some good pussy. You’ve got that good pussy baby,” I bellowed.
“Oh God, fuck me Mike. Holy…” she whimpered.
“Fuck!” she screamed as I worked my swollen cock in and out of her pussy.
My hips pressing further and further between her thighs, I attempted to get deeper into her. Slowly, I pulled my cock out. Almost immediately, I forced it back in and repeated the procedure over and over - slowly withdrawing it, and forcing it into her quickly and deeply.
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Fuck…me…hard,” she said between breaths.
“I only fuck one way,” I assured her as I pounded myself in and out of her wet pussy.
“And that’s hard,” I smiled as I pinched her nipples between my thumb and index finger.
Her eyes opened and closed repeatedly.
“Mike…” she said my name slowly, dragging it out for a few seconds.
“Yeah, baby?” I asked as I continued to pound away.
“I’m going to…” she opened her eyes and hesitated.
“Do it,” I shouted.
“Cum,” she sighed as she closed her eyes.
Her pussy began to go through a series of contractions as I slowly fucked her deeply and methodically. Satisfied I was finding my happy place and about to cum myself, I closed my eyes and maintained my rhythm as my cock began to swell.
Oh fuck yes, this feels so fucking good.
A voice from outside the car window startled me and caused Liv to scream. Having someone standing outside the car in this particular location wasn’t something I never would have expected, but I certainly wasn’t ready for it.
“Get out of the car,” a deep voice demanded in a stern tone.
“Oh my God, he’s got a gun,” Liv screamed.
I glanced over my left shoulder to find a man outside the driver’s side of the car, nervously holding a pistol as he glanced around the empty parking lot.
“I said get out of the car,” he demanded.
“Let me get dressed,” I responded.
I’ve always believed I was probably as big, mean and naturally tough as any man who ever existed. There was absolutely nothing, however, about a guy holding a pistol and making demands that made me comfortable challenging him. A gun is one thing that can make even the toughest of men become weak.
And dead.
Slowly, I reached to the passenger seat and grabbed my shorts. Maintaining eye contact with the gun, I began to get dressed. As I pulled the shorts over my feet, he shouted into the car window again.
“Hurry the fuck up,” he barked as he leaned into the window.
His voice cracked as he spoke. He was either wacked out on dope, extremely nervous, or both. As I buttoned my shorts I realized Liv was crying and trying to talk. I had heard absolutely nothing she said.
“Baby, get dressed and stay right here,” I said as I handed her shorts, bra and shirt to her which were draped over the back of the seat.
“Let me climb over the seat,” I said softly as I started to lift my arm over the seat.
As I climbed over the seat and into the front of the car, my eyes stayed fixed on him. Once in the front, I sat up in the seat and watched as he backed away from the car a few steps. Quietly, I pulled the keys from the ignition and pushed them deeply into my pocket.
“You big son-of-a-bitch, move slow. Get out, and tell her to get out too, I’m taking this car,” he said as he stepped back away from the car, his pistol shaking as he spoke.
I’ve got some news for ya, buddy. You ain’t takin’ this car anywhere.
“I’m going to open the door,” I said softly as I opened the car door slowly.
I stepped out of the car and stood. I was at least six inches taller and a good eighty pounds heavier than he was. Dressed in jeans, sneakers, a canvas jacket, and a NY Yankees baseball hat, he clearly wasn’t a native Texan. No one here liked the Yankees. If they did, they’d damned sure never admit it.
“Tell your bitch to get out,” he demanded as he waved the gun toward the car.
“Mike? Oh my God. Mike?” Liv sobbed from the rear seat.
He had the gun and he was clearly the one making the rules. Currently, he stood six or eight feet in front of me, too far away for me to reach. As accurately as I could guess, if I were to step in his direction, he would shoot me. After that, nothing would matter. Not one thing within me thought I could win a gun fight when I didn’t even have one, but this guy was not going to do two things with my knowledge or assistance.
Take my car.
Or.
Harm the girl.
“We’re gonna need to talk about this, brother,” I said softly as I held my hands out in front of me with my palms down.
“I ain’t your brother, you Dwayne The Rock Johnson lookin’ mother fucker. Get the bitch out of the car and step to the side. I’m taking it,” he demanded as he waved the pistol toward the car again.
I’ve never tried to steal a car or force someone to do anything at gunpoint. If I were, especially in public, I would guess time would be of the essence. He seemed all too eager to wave the pistol around and make demands, and not very willing to just shoot someone and make something happen. I was not, by any stretch of the imagination, willing to be shot. Something in my mind convinced me this guy might shoot, but it wasn’t his immediate or first choice.
“Stay in the car, Liv,” I said dryly.
“Mike?” she cried.
“Stay in the fucking car no matter what this prick says,” I growled over my shoulder as I maintained eye contact with the walking turd.
“I’m taking the car, and if I have to I’ll shoot your big ass,” he said as he waved the gun in my direction.
You’re not takin’ the car.
I stood and stared quietly.
“I’m taking the car one way or another. You can either live or you can die,” he said as he raised the pistol to my chest.
And that is when things changed. I was sure of it. Because…
My cock twitched.
Naturally a person wants to live as long as possible. One would expect in any similar situation, they’d step aside and let the man take the car, collect an insurance check for the loss, and go on with living life. The longer I stood and looked at the gun wielding fuck bubble, the more certain I was he wasn’t going to take my car anywhere. I had to figure out a way to get him close enough to beat on him, or we’d be standing and talking all night.
Or I’d be shot.
“She ain’t getting out so you can kill us both. Take the car with her in it,” I offered.
“Mike?” Liv’s voice sobbed.
“It’s okay baby. I got this,” I assured her as I maintained eye contact with him.
“Fuck you, that’s kidnapping,” he responded.
Well, maybe this isn’t his first time doing this.
“That’s your only option. You want the car, take it. Keys are in it,” I lied.
I figured I would make him walk past me to get in the car, and some way or another he would get close enough to allow me to beat on him. If not, when he got into the car, I’d beat him through the window as he attempted to start it without the keys.
I maintained eye contact with him as I watched his every movement. Nervously, he glanced around the empty lot again. As he looked to his left, he became startled. As he turned to face the street, I realized it would probably be my only opportunity. It was all I needed - a split second wit
h him facing away from me.
Quickly, I stepped left foot first, toward where he stood. As soon as I followed with my right foot, I swung a right hook with everything I owned, aimed for the side of his head - his temple to be more specific. In what seemed as a slow motion scene from an old black and white movie, several things came into play.
His body continued to rotate to his right, as if he were going to run away. Naturally, I tucked my chin as I threw the punch, and did not look straight ahead. Had I, I would have noticed what later became apparent that he had noticed out of the corner of his eye.
My fist slammed against his right ear, immediately dropping him where he stood. Before he hit the pavement, and immediately upon my fist contacting his head, he instinctively pulled the trigger on the pistol. The sound echoed throughout the empty lot. And it was then I looked up and made note of what had startled him.
The police car as it pulled into the restaurant entrance.
And the other one as it followed directly behind the first.
And the two other police cars parked in the street blocking traffic.
“Drop the weapon,” an officer screamed from the corner of the building.
“He did,” I screamed as I looked down at the pistol a few feet from his body.
“Drop the weapon,” the officer screamed again.
Holy shit, this dude thinks I’m the thief.
“Look, this guy was robbing me, trying to steal my car,” I screamed as I pointed down at the worthless heap of shit lying on the asphalt.
“Sir! Place your hands behind your head. Interlock your fingers and turn to face the car! After you lock your hands behind your head, take two steps back,” the officer demanded, his pistol pointing at me as he shouted commands.
Liv got out of the car and ran toward the officers screaming the entire way. What she was screaming made minimal sense to me, so I’m sure the officers understood nothing. Slowly, I raised my hands over my head, interlocked my fingers and started to turn around. As I rotated, the ass hat car thief began to move. Looking down at him and up at the officers made all of their screaming at me make sense. From their location, they were incapable of seeing him, as there was decorative shrubbery between him and them. The fact he was lying flat on the asphalt made their seeing him impossible. As he began to groan, I raised my foot from the pavement and kicked him in the head as hard as I could.
“What the fuck? Kleitz, there’s another one here on the ground. Big boy here just kicked him. Keep your goddamned hands where we can see them,” the officer screamed.
“They’re behind my head, just like you said,” I responded as I rolled my eyes.
Police officers in Texas will shoot first and ask questions later. The entire state, citizens included, is as gun friendly, gun happy and gun toting of a society as has ever existed. I’ve never had a tremendous affection for police officers, and I’m sure I never will. As the officer placed his hand cuffs on my right wrist, he yelled at one of the other officers.
“He’s too god damned big, Kleitz. I need another pair of cuffs. I can’t get him cuffed with one pair,” the officer screamed.
As the second officer approached, he screamed, “Parker! Weapon at your feet!”
I had no idea why he felt the need to announce it - screaming and making the other officers nervous, but he did. The remaining police, who were now climbing over the bushes, coming through the parking lot and walking in from the street, all stopped. As he screamed, they uniformly pulled their weapons.
What ended up being a huge misunderstanding of a clusterfuck began to come to an end as Liv and officer whistle-dick started walking toward where I stood. As an officer was handcuffing the real thief, Liv walked our direction. She was now capable of speaking slowly and legibly.
“Kleitz, Parker, listen up,” whistle-dick said as he walked closer to where we stood.
“The big guy without a shirt. He’s the victim. The fella on the ground, he’s who we want. He was trying to jack the Chevy,” he said as Liv stood at his side pointing toward the thief.
The officer helped the thief to his feet. He stood beside me, rubber legged and handcuffed, still somewhat uncertain of what had actually happened. As he moaned and wiggled his jaw, the officer began to explain his Miranda rights.
“You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. In the event…”
“But big boy here assaulted the fella on the ground. Kicked him in the face as I was walking up,” The officer unsuccessfully in charge of handcuffing me announced as he pointed back and forth between ass hat and I.
“Seriously?” I asked, one handcuff still dangling from my right wrist.
“Quiet,” he demanded.
“He was trying to jack my fucking car. He had a gun. I was unarmed,” I explained as I nodded my head toward the thief who stood beside me in handcuffs.
“I said quiet,” he demanded, “he was unconscious and unarmed when you kicked him. As a matter of law, that’s assault. Right Stone?”
“Well, I suppose it is, Parker. But we don’t necessarily need to write it in the report, now do we?” the officer standing with Liv responded.
“Yeah Parker,” I sighed.
“I said be quiet. I’ll cite you for resisting arrest,” Parker snapped.
“I didn’t do anything. What the fuck. I hate fucking cops,” I growled.
They were really starting to piss me off. I had to stand beside the guy who tried to steal my car like I was a criminal. The emotion of the fucktard trying to steal my car, devising a way in my mind to overpower him, the arrival of the cops and me smacking his stupid ass was a little more than I had hoped for - especially as I was getting ready to pump Liv full of my cum.
“Oh, you hate cops, huh? Well, we saved your ass,” Parker announced.
“No, I knocked that piece of shit out before you arrived,” I bragged.
“I said quiet,” Parker bellowed.
“Stone?” Parker whined.
The officer standing with Liv looked up from his note pad, blinked a few times and walked closer to where we stood.
“Do I know you?” he asked as he approached.
I shook my head slowly, “I’m afraid not, officer.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Quite. Never been arrested. Not that I shouldn’t have been, but it’s never happened,” I smiled.
“I know you from somewhere,” he said as he studied my face.
“Nope,” I shook my head.
“Where you from?” he asked.
“724 All Hallows, right around the corner,” I responded.
“I know you from somewhere. Where do you work?” Stone asked.
“Ain’t got a job,” I responded.
“You drive a car like that, and you ain’t got a job,” he mimicked, “The car’s got to be worth forty grand.”
“More like sixty,” I corrected him.
“I box. I’m a boxer. I don’t look at it as a job.”
“That’s it!” he shouted.
“Television. The uhhm. Yeah. The fight with Dekkar and Mc Claskey. You were standing beside Dekkar for the interview with a little blonde-headed girl. Think it was Dekkar’s wife,” Stone said as he waved his finger at me.
“Yup. Dekk and I are best friends.” I nodded.
“You and Shame on Dekkar? Best friends?” he asked.
“Yep.” I nodded.
“No shit. Hear that Parker? Kleitz? Shane Dekkar’s best friend right here. Probably hit this guy with a three piece before he knew it. Think you can get him to give me an autograph?” Stone asked.
“I can have him come up here in ten minutes and sign the hood of your goddamned cop car if you’ll have Parker take this cuff of my wrist,” I laughed.
“God damn it Parker. Get the cuffs off of him,” Stone demanded.
“Probably good thing your girl here called 911. You’d have beaten that guy to death if we hadn’t showed up, huh?” he asked.
And now it all b
egan to make sense. Liv called the cops from the car while I was talking to shit-for-brains. Frantic, she probably explained there was a guy with a gun, something about a tattooed bald guy and a carjacking. In perfect cop fashion, the police came screaming onto the scene to the rescue.
I hate cops.
“That’d be my guess, yeah,” I agreed as Parker took off the cuffs.
“So, I’m going to need to fill out a report and get statements. We’ll take him to the station. I can get most of the information here, but you’ll need to stop at the station and fill out a report of everything that happened here tonight. Hell, maybe even tomorrow would be fine,” Stone said flatly as he motioned toward the shit-head thief.
“And if I get Dekk to sign the hood of your cruiser, you’ll forget the assault?” I chuckled.
“Assault? What assault?” Stone laughed.
“He hit me. And kicked my face,” the shit-head said.
I turned and looked at Stone. Stone nodded his head sharply toward shit-head and smiled.
Parker looked at me.
I smiled.
Kleitz looked at me and smiled. I smiled in return.
Kleitz let go of the thief and stepped aside.
The thief looked at me.
I smiled.
The thief didn’t.
And I did what Mike Ripton does best. Well, short of fucking bitches.
I knocked that motherfucker out.
Cold.
RIPP. Knock out one guy for being a douchebag, and the girl by your side decides you’re not suitable for her to continue any form of a relationship with, including casual sex. Knock out another douchebag in front of some random unknown girl, and she is so turned on she wants to fuck you almost immediately.
Trying to predict women’s likes, dislikes, desires, turn-ons or turn-offs was impossible. I decided I was just going to try and fuck them all, and the ones who agreed would be in for a nice little session of pierced cock heaven. Fuck trying to figure them all out. That would be impossible.
I’ll leave that up to Shane.
“If we knock this motherfucker over, I’m gonna be mad as hell,” naked, I stood and stared at her as she lay sprawled out over the back of my motorcycle.
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t tip over,” she smiled.
S is for SEX Page 63
