by Selena Kitt
She wasn’t disappointed. Ralph gave a low grunt, gripping her hips and shoving in so hard she had to put her hands up to the wall to keep from falling forward. His cock was deliciously big, spreading her wide as he began to fuck her. Lindsey caught his rhythm, closing her eyes and leaning into the wall, resting her cheek there. The tiled surface was cooler than the air around them, and she moaned against it, meeting his thrusts with her own.
“Harder!” she gasped, going up on her tiptoes, looking for a deeper angle. He groaned, reaching forward to grasp one of her breasts, squeezing her nipple and then twisting it hard. That made her squeal, the sensation sending a hot fire of pain that turned to pleasure in an instant spreading down toward her pussy.
“Goddamnit, I said harder!” Lindsey reached between her legs, finding his balls and rubbing them against her clit. He gasped, grabbing her hair and shoving her sideways onto the bench, using all of his weight to press her down. She couldn’t breathe and she didn’t want to as he laid her out, driving his cock into her from behind. He was fully on her now and using all of his strength to fuck her wide open.
“Oh fuck!” He groaned, slowing a little, and she knew he was close. Her whole pussy felt swollen and slick with the fuck, and she reached behind her to feel him as he knelt up between her thighs, digging for a deeper angle. His hands grabbed her hips and he found it, shoving into her hard.
“Come on!” Lindsey taunted, reaching back and spreading her ass with both hands as he fucked her, lifting her hips. “If you really want that cunt, then use it!” He grabbed her wrists, both of them, pulling her back as he pressed forward into her, his cock twitching fast. He was really close.
“Come all over my slutty little cunt!” She moaned the words, rocking her hips, squeezing her pussy hard around his shaft. “Do it! Now!”
He did as she asked, pulling out of her with a low groan and flooding her pussy with his cum. She felt a thick spurt of it land across her thigh like a brand, and the next fat shot swelled over her lips, easing down her slit in a hot gush. She felt him shuddering behind her as he pumped his cock in his fist, rubbing the head of it over her flesh as he came.
Lindsey wiggled away, rolling over onto her back and threw an arm over her eyes. Her panting breath began to slow just a little, but she still felt like she was going to pass out, between the level of her arousal and the incredible heat of the steam room. She heard the door open and didn’t look up. He was going, and that was just fine.
Her fingers moved between her legs, finding the sticky wet heat of his cum, and rubbing it in. Alone now, her memory returned to the moment, the grab and push and pull of it, the resistance and the taking. Her pussy burned, and her sticky fingers moved faster over her clit, her lungs pulling in thick steam in huge, gasping gulps.
“Oh god!” she whispered, circling her clit. “Please, oh god.” And she found that it wasn’t Ralph fucking her, using her, that pushed her over. It was the image of Zach, his face buried between her legs, and the deafening sound of the planes above their heads. It was Zach’s hands, his tongue, his eyes, and she was coming in his mouth, her hips bucking up to meet him as he held her in his grip.
She heard herself call his name and opened her eyes in surprise in the white mist, her body still shivering from her climax. She was, indeed, alone. Glancing down at her discarded red suit on the floor, she felt something turn over in her belly. Zach was coming to pick her up tonight.
Standing, she felt Ralph’s cum sliding down her thigh, and grimaced. When she opened the door to the steam room, she gratefully gulped the cool air and headed naked for a shower stall with her suit balled up in her fist. She had never felt a greater need in her life to get clean than she did in that moment.
Chapter Six
“Lindsey Renee Anderson!”
She knew she was in trouble when her mother used her full name. The pounding on the bathroom door just wouldn’t stop. I don’t have time for this. Zach was due to pick her up any minute.
“What!?” She opened her eyes wide as she leaned over the sink, applying mascara, her mouth a perfectly round “O.”
“Your father and I need to talk to you.”
She stopped mid-stroke with her mascara brush, her eyes narrowing, and she gave an evil look toward the door. Her mouth formed the words, but no sound came out: “He’s not my father!” There was the pounding again, and this time, her stepfather’s voice.
“Lindsey! If you intend to leave this house at all tonight, I suggest you come out and talk to us!”
I’ll leave if I want to, asshole. She shoved the mascara brush violently back into the container, screwing on the lid and throwing it into her make-up bag. She adjusted the long peasant skirt she was wearing, glancing in the mirror to make sure the white satin shorts she wore underneath didn’t show.
“I’m coming!” She made a kissing face at her own reflection, tilting her head first left, then right. The pink tank-tee she was wearing wasn’t made to be see-through, but without a bra, her dark nipples were clearly visible. Grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder, she pulled the door open and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Jeez! Can’t a girl even take a pee without it turning into some committee meeting?”
They all stood there, arms crossed, glaring for a moment, before Lindsey’s mother broke the silence. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” Lindsey snapped her gum. “So what’s up? Zach’ll be here any minute.” Her parent’s exchanged looks and she knew, then, what they were up to and rolled her eyes. “Oh good god, don’t tell me this is the ‘you can’t date a nee-gro’ lecture again?’” She brushed past them both and headed toward the kitchen.
“It’s not that.” Her mother’s voice followed her, and so did her stepfather’s footsteps. The whole kitchen still smelled like stuffed green peppers, which Lindsey hadn’t touched. She hated green stuff. “It’s just… well, Zach is a little old for you, don’t you think?”
Lindsey snagged a Diet Coke, popping the lid open with a pink-painted fingernail. “Twenty-two is too old?” She downed half the can in four big swallows and then burped loudly. “Christ, it could be so much worse. He could be fifty-two—lay off already!”
Her mother sat at the kitchen table and sighed, glancing up at her stepfather. He just shrugged, shaking his head. Lindsey hid a smile behind her Coke can, swallowing the rest of it. It thrilled her to know that she had backed them into a corner. They were too P.C. to say any more about the fact that he was black, and they couldn’t really soundly object to their four-year age difference.
“Four years isn’t a big deal if you’re, say, thirty, and he’s thirty-four…” Her stepfather was clearly trying to salvage his argument. “But there’s a big difference when you’re eighteen and he’s twenty-two.”
“Really?” Lindsey rolled her eyes, tossing the can into the recycling bin. “Is that the new math? Did I miss that day in school?”
“Honey…” Her mother sighed again, folding her hands on the marred surface of the table. It was the one piece of furniture they’d had since she was a baby, and she suddenly had a memory of her father—her real father—sitting her on the edge of that table, putting a band-aid on her knee after she’d fallen down and skinned it. That can’t be a real memory. I was too young. I must have seen a picture of it or something… But she knew it was. She had only a few memories of him at all, but that was one.
“Wait!” Lindsey held up her hand. She’d heard Zach’s Camaro pull up in the driveway. “Let me save you some breath. You’re worried about me… concerned about my welfare, that’s all. You wouldn’t even be having this conversation with me if you didn’t love me so much. Right?”
“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm.” Her stepfather’s jaw was working in that way it did before he really got mad, and she was glad she was minutes from heading out the door.
“And I don’t appreciate you trying to tell me who I can or can’t see.” Lindsey heard Zach’s footsteps on the stairs. “I’m not going
to tell this guy to come back in the year 2020 because you’re afraid of the age difference. That’s just wack!”
The doorbell rang. That was her cue. “So tell me, mom… which do you hate most? The fact that he’s black? Or the fact that he’s twenty-two?”
“Which attracts you most?” her stepfather asked, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
Her mother shook her head, waving her hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. Just go, Lindsey. You’re going to do whatever you want to do. You always have, and you always will.”
“You got that one right.” She edged by her stepfather, heading for the front door and the promise of another night with Zach.
“Lindsey!” Her stepfather’s voice was a warning, but she didn’t stop. When she opened the door, there was Zach, waiting in the dusky light, whistling some tune. He smiled when he saw her, glancing down at her long, flowing skirt, his eyes widening in surprise.
“You look nice.”
She snorted, taking his hand and pulling him down the porch steps. “I’m changing in the car.”
He laughed, shaking his head as he opened the passenger door for her. “Don’t tell me—you’re wearing the ‘come-fuck-me-shorts’ under there?”
“How did you guess?” She was already wiggling the elastic waist of the skirt down over her hips when he slid in, putting the key into the ignition. “Thought I’d give you a great big hint.”
“Damn, girl.” Zach glanced over as she slid the skirt down her slim thighs, kicking it into a ball on the floor next to her sandals and putting her now-bare feet up on the dash. Her toes were painted pink. “You sure do make it hard to say no.”
“I hope so.” She grinned over at him, pushing the button to roll down the window and putting her face up to the breeze. “So where are we going tonight?”
“It’s not far.” He smiled over at her as she turned up the radio, leaning her seat back a little and dangling her arm out the window. Her hand danced in the breeze.
“You’re big on surprises, aren’t you?” The air was warm, even though it was near dark already and she twisted to put her feet out the window, too.
“Do you want me to tell you?”
She contemplated this, chewing her gum. “No.”
“I think you like surprises.” Zach steered the car around a corner.
“Good ones, sure.” Lindsey gave a half-snort, half-laugh. “It’s the bad ones that get me.”
“Like what?” It sounded like a casual question, but she knew better. She could feel herself closing, something in her snapping tight. Telling people about what went on inside Lindsey wasn’t ever part of the deal. The good thing was, it was pretty easy to get most guys to talk about themselves.
“Oh, you know, the usual stuff.” She flipped the radio station. “So have you been overseas yet in this war thing?”
Zach was quiet and for a moment she thought her tactic hadn’t worked. “I’ve been on two tours in Iraq, yes.”
“How was it?”
“Lonely.” He shrugged, and she saw his eyes moving over her thighs and she slid down a little further in her seat. “I spent six months in a submarine, 500 meters under the surface of the Indian Ocean.”
“Six months?” She stared at him, incredulous.
“Actually, eight months on the second tour.”
“But you never saw any action?” She snapped her gum, changing the station again.
Zach reached over and turned off the radio. “I’ll talk about it if you really want me to, but don’t use it to just try and change the subject, okay?”
She flushed, glad for the coming darkness. The next words that came out of her mouth surprised them both. “My father was killed in Iraq.”
“I’m sorry, Lindsey.”
“I was very little.” She shrugged, shocked at herself. There wasn’t one other person in the world she could remember ever speaking those words out loud to. “I don’t remember much about him.”
“It was Desert Storm?”
She nodded, pulling her feet into the car and sitting up. “He was in the army. I guess he got lured in by that whole college education and a free ride spiel.” Zach didn’t say anything, he just drove, but she knew he was listening. “You know, that whole travel to exotic, foreign lands, meet new and interesting people…and kill them?
“I’m familiar with the concept.”
“Except he was the one who got killed.”
Zach shook his head. “There were only about two hundred total U.S. casualties in Desert Storm.”
“Yeah.” She gave him a wry smile. “Talk about bad surprises. But that’s my luck for you…I inherited it from my mother.”
“So it’s been just you and your mom since?”
“My stepdad came into the picture when I was about five or six.”
“You don’t like him very much.”
She turned her face out toward the window. “So, you never said, did you see any action?”
“I was on a fast-attack sub. We had a few hunter-killer missions. That’s what we were there to do.” He glanced over and she felt his eyes on her. “I take it you don’t like talking about your stepfather?”
“Hey, look at that, we’re here.” She leaned forward as he pulled into a parking lot. “Where’s here?”
“Okay, I can take a hint.” Zach opened his door.
She rolled her eyes as she got out, turning her bottom toward him and rubbing the satin seat of her shorts. “Promises, promises!”
“Come on, sexy.” He smacked her behind on the way past, popping the trunk. “Let’s see if I can top front row seats at Kenny Wayne Shepard followed by an orgasm under the flight pattern of an F-16.”
She raised her eyebrows as he took a guitar case out. “Why…are you planning two orgasms?”
“Could be.” He grinned, slipping his arm around her waist as he led her toward a darkly lit building. She heard music already, a low, steady beat.
She showed her fake I.D. at the door and they went into a little blues bar, smoky and dark inside and packed with people. Zach ordered himself a beer and Lindsey a Coke and she rolled her eyes at that, but drank it thirstily as they searched for a seat near the front of the stage. The band was playing a cover of Stevie Ray Vaughan’s Double Trouble and Zach left his guitar on the edge of the stage, giving a nod to the lead singer.
They gave up on looking for a place to sit and Lindsey wrinkled her nose at Zach as she led him out onto the dance floor, but it was too loud for her to ask what was up.
Besides, the music made her want to take her clothes off, and if she couldn’t do that, at the very least, she wanted to be pressed between the sea of bodies, as close to Zach as she could get.
She got her wish. The dance floor was almost as packed as the tables had been. Wrapping her arms up around Zach’s neck, she rubbed the front of her body against him, shifting her hips into his. His eyes lit up as he watched her, his hands resting at her waist, and she smiled as their bodies moving in easy synch. Most guys she dated did the usual white-boy snap and sway, but her body knew immediately that Zach could really dance.
When the song ended, he dragged her, protesting, off the floor. She flagged a waitress while he was up at the front of the stage, talking to the lead singer during a lull in their set, and ordered three shots of whiskey. Zach turned just as she was about to down the last one, and snatched it from her, making a face.
“Hey!” She protested, grabbing for it.
“No way.” He tossed it back himself, grimacing. “If you want, I’ll get you a beer.”
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms but accepted the beer when the waitress came over with it. Lindsey saw the way the woman looked at Zach, the way she rubbed her ample chest “accidentally” against his arm when she set the beer on the table they’d managed to squeeze in at. The waitress shot her a dirty look when she turned to go, and Lindsey made a face at her back, knowing immediately it was a racial thing.
“Where are you going?�
� Lindsey grasped Zach’s arm as he headed toward the stage.
He grinned and shook her off. “You’ll see.”
Of course, the guitar case should have tipped her off. She actually thought he might just know the lead singer or something and was dropping it off for him. It hadn’t occurred to her that he was going to play—or sing. He strapped the guitar on, giving her a wink as the band started playing behind him. He’d clearly planned this, and she smiled, tipping her beer at him before taking a long swig.
It was after the first stanza of the song, well into the verse, that Lindsey realized he was singing to her—about her. She looked up at him with wide eyes for a moment, blinking fast. She recognized the song well enough—it was the Fabulous Thunderbirds.
“You’re hot, too hot, too hot to handle…
Let me tell you people
I’m only a man
I didn’t realize
what I held in my hands…”
She grinned up at him then, shaking her head, and he winked again, his eyes meeting hers over the microphone. His fingers were long and deft, working the guitar strings effortlessly, and Lindsey watched, a slow burn heating her belly. She’d been attracted to him from the moment she met him, but seeing him up on stage, hearing the low, rough edge to his voice, she wanted nothing more than to find somewhere to get naked with him—fast.
“When she enters the room
Men hide their wedding rings
I know what you’re thinking
You’re thinkin’ about that wild thing.
I know she’s hot, too hot, too hot to handle…”
The music was too hot not to move, and she danced near the front of the stage, her eyes on his. He watched her grind her hips around and around, her arms above her head, her belly undulating with the beat. When the song was over, he thanked the band, and hopped off the stage to join her. She opened her mouth to say something when the waitress sidled in between them, smiling up at Zach.
“You were hot, honey!” The woman’s nails were as long as claws and she trailed one of them down the front of Zach’s shirt like an orange streak, hooking her finger in his belt and tugging slightly. “You can play for me anytime!”
