by Various
“Damn it,” I grumbled. “Jerks.”
“I didn’t know you needed your posse all night. Or are they your body guards?”
The thought of Alan trying to guard anything more than a plate of toast made me laugh.
“No. They were my ride home.”
When he leaned in a little closer, the earthy-sweet smell of David’s cologne just barely cut through the stink of alcohol on his breath.
“Well you’re in luck. Now I’m your ride home.”
He didn’t need to say what his intentions were--they were perfectly clear. Taken a little off guard, I fumbled for the nicest way to turn him down. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go somewhere with him, but my feet seemed to grow awfully cold in a short amount of time. I was afraid, to some degree, of allowing a man to come to my home, even if he didn’t try to follow me in. The apartment wasn’t much to brag about.
At the same time, I was terrified of David. He was tall, handsome and tough. His eyes pierced like bullets without allowing anyone to reciprocate and his general disposition was one of hard confidence. What did a man like him want with someone like me? What did I have to offer? Was there more to the story that I didn’t understand?
I stared at the stained, mottled mirror that sat behind the bar and watched the scattered crowd move about the room. My last boyfriend, Earl, was kind enough to leave me with a wasted nine months and a fat lip. It was almost three years before, but that didn’t stop the apprehension from sneaking into my thoughts. I didn’t have the time to get attached to someone when, at the end of the day, I didn’t know whether or not David’s intentions were honest.
From the back of my mind, a small voice asked a very big question: Who says you have to get attached?
When I mustered the courage to meet eyes with him again, he was closer than I remembered. Before a brief pause that dripped with tension, he came close and tickled my ear with the coarse hairs of his moustache.
“I’m not gonna let you walk by yourself. Where do you live?”
“Fine,” I eventually relented. “My apartment’s over on Silver Street. Just promise you’re not a bad guy.”
He placed a small, almost imperceptible kiss on the skin just below my ear and whispered, “I can be if you want me to.”
That was all I needed. I motioned toward the door with my head, dropped most of the cash that I had onto the bar for my tab and guided both of us out of the warm, smoky bar. Outside, the cool air of night blasted my glistening skin.
“Over here,” David said and pulled me to his bike. Its shiny pipes and rich, dark leather upholstering made it stand out well under the light of the full moon overhead. He pulled a smaller helmet off of the handlebars and gave it to me. “You’re in luck tonight.”
“It sure seems like it, doesn’t it?”
We exchanged knowing smirks as we strapped in and climbed on. With my hands wrapped tightly around David’s waist, he kicked the engine to life and illuminated the single headlight. I couldn’t help but hold him tight from behind. Even though I knew what was about to happen, I needed to feel closer to him. I didn’t want to wait.
As we backed up and then rolled out of the parking lot, I noticed that Alan’s car was still parked where we left it. Sticking out of its open windows were two pairs of dirty sneakers, making it obvious that I wasn’t so much abandoned as I was left out of a slumber party. I chuckled to myself and flipped down the helmet’s visor just in time.
David guided the rumbling motorcycle onto the small, two-lane road that ran through town and started toward my apartment. The ride wasn’t long, but it was just long enough. Around the half-way point, my tightly-clamped hands wriggled loose and my fingers spread out over his firm stomach. I knew that David could feel me. He shifted back a little and sat up straighter, like he was inviting me to do my worst.
I placed my head against his back and inched my hands down lower, eventually coming to rest over the growing bulge that was in his pants. The entire time, the powerful engine’s growl rattled between my thighs. It was then, as my fingers circled the erection in his jeans, that I noticed it wasn’t cologne that I smelled earlier. It was perfume.
---
Walking ahead of David on the creaky steps that led to my front door, a wave of apprehension took hold of me for a few reasons. First and foremost, I wondered about the fragrance that permeated his clothes with a subtle, constant scent. Did he have a girlfriend? What if he had a wife? On the other hand, I reasoned, maybe he just got around. I wasn’t sure that I cared too much for any of those options, but any sense of what I should have done was blocked out by all the things that I wanted to do. The way that his hands delicately caressed my ass between steps made me weak in the knees. Half way up, I debated whether or not I would even make it when he grabbed a handful and squeezed. When he did, the edge of his thumb pressed down against where the inside of my thigh and pussy met. Even through my thick work pants, I felt him try to press against where my slit was. In an instant, my foot was like lead. It caught against one of the stairs and I fell forward.
In a way, the few seconds of pause that the tumble afforded me were welcome. More than the nagging sense of guilt that the sweet, floral smell on David left me with, knowing that he would soon see my sad, tiny, sparsely-decorated apartment weighed heavy on my mind. As he grabbed my waist just in time to keep my knee from slamming into the corner of the step, I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath of the crisp, cool air that surrounded us. What would he say when he saw the fold-out couch that I slept on or the bras that were hanging up to dry on the crooked lamp near my ancient TV? Everything was probably dusty--I knew that for sure--and I couldn’t recall the last time that I broke out the vacuum. While it afforded me a living, working at Hungry Pete’s didn’t exactly leave time (or money) for interior decoration. I made do with what I had, but sometimes I wondered if what I had wasn’t good enough for the rest of the world.
David caught me and abruptly slipped his hand down the front of my pants. With found fingers, he cradled the already damp exterior of my panties. I dug my nails into the crumbling wood of the handrail and tried to keep my knees from folding. Whatever doubt I had, whether it was the smell of another woman or the messy stacks of books that rested on the floor near the crooked lamp, was erased by the feeling of his fingers as he started to press them down and rock back and forth ever so slightly.
“At least get me inside first,” I groaned and leaned back against his strong chest.
By the time that my eyes fluttered back open again, David had guided me up the stairs. I was able to watch as the screen door slammed shut behind us, but not much else. Enveloped in almost total darkness, the only light that fell over us was the soft, orange glow of a streetlight just a few yards from where we entered. The door its self was still wide open, leaving only the screen between our sinful display of pure lust and the rest of the outside world.
David stopped in his tracks and jerked my body against his. With one hand still buried in my pants, he snaked the other up my shirt and freed one of my breasts. Two of his rough, thick fingers massaged my nipple without hesitation.
“Oh god,” I said through heaving breaths. When I inhaled, the distant scent of jasmine and vanilla tickled the inside of my nose. It was so subtle that, after a while, it only toyed with my senses like a playful ghost. Sometimes it was there and then it was gone again, leaving behind the decidedly more appropriate fragrance of liquor and cigarettes.
In a flash, David spun me around and stripped off both of our shirts. I was surprised by how hot the naked skin on his chest felt against mine as he peeled away my bra and pulled me in close, but that was only a shadow of things to come. With our bodies backed out of the leaning rectangle of light that spilled through the creaky screen door, he leaned down so that we could meet stares and he kissed me.
My eyes fell shut again as I sank into his tight embrace and our tongues danced over one another. Every once in a while, he backed off just long enough to nibble at
my bottom lip while he grabbed my ass and pressed his stiff erection into my stomach. Though it was still trapped in his worn denim, I already had more than enough of a preview to know that he was bigger than any man I’d ever been with.
In one smooth motion, David pushed down my work slacks and panties and went to work on himself. He quickly undressed, which allowed his warm, throbbing package to finally emerge. It was almost too dark for me to see as my eyes snapped back open again, but a quick stroke with one of my hands confirmed what I already knew: he needed me as badly as I needed him. In that moment, there was nothing else, just me, him and the sins that we were about to commit.
We moved backward again but never separated. After a few steps, my back slammed against the cool, smooth wooden paneling that ran the length of most of the walls in my apartment. Pinned between it and David, I felt my body release a violent, pleasurable shudder.
“Are you cold?”
I was a little surprised by the question. Why did he care if I was cold? And even if he really did, cold was probably one of the last words I would’ve used to describe myself at the time. I was far from it.
“If I said I was,” I whispered and brushed my fingertips through the short stubble on the top of his head, “what would you do about it?”
He kissed me again, this time with both hands on my naked rear. Soon after, my heels left the ground, followed eventually by my toes. Once David had picked me up and pinned me between his rock-hard body and the wall, I looked down in time to see the silhouette of his cock as he guided it into my wet, aching pussy.
David sank into me with a groan and I wrapped my legs around his waist, inviting him to go even deeper. With every inch, I felt him push through and spread me open wide. It had been so long that every ridge and bump on his member caressed me in a way that made me want to scream. By the time that he thrust the last bit of it in and his lips found their way to one of my nipples, that’s exactly what I did.
“Fuck me,” I cried without regard for the wide-open front door. “Please.”
He growled with approval, lightly clamped his teeth down onto my point and started to pound into me. Without waiting for time to build up, he ruthlessly forced his way in and out of my slit, slamming against me so hard that I had to gasp for air between thrusts.
It was exactly what I was hoping for.
With wet pops that only got louder, David fucked me up against the wall for a few minutes before he paused with his dick still inside me. He leaned back a little to open up some space between us and, using just one of his huge thumbs, started to circle my clit.
Slowly, he built back up to his original pace, his steady finger’s movements in perfect harmony with every thrust. Even through all of the alcohol, which I didn’t even think was possible, the warm threat of orgasm started at where he stroked me and quickly spread through the rest of my body. Pinned helplessly between my new lover and the wall, all that I could do was lean my head back and dig my nails into his arms while he pushed me over the edge.
“Yes,” I screamed and rocked my dripping pussy over his shaft, making sure that he could feel it every time the muscles deep inside me tightened and throbbed.
When he was sure I was done, David withdrew his hand and leaned back in to kiss me again. This time, our damp, sticky bodies stayed together as he pounded into me and bit down onto my neck. He grabbed onto my ass with both hands and started to make slower, harder, more deliberate movements.
“I’m coming,” he said in what was almost a whimper. “Oh fuck.”
He jerked out of me just in time. In the seconds after I managed to wrap a hand around his slick pole, a hot eruption of cum flooded out. It spilled out over my fingers and dripped onto the flesh surrounding my navel. Squeezing out every last drop, even as his arms started to tremble, David rocked his meat through my curled fingers a few more times.
“Mmmm,” he groaned and licked his lips as the last glistening beads crested the head of his cock and rolled over my knuckles.
When everything was all said and done, my hair was a wild mess, my back was starting to go numb and there was no way in hell that I could walk unassisted. David must’ve known somehow, because he continued to hold me and carried me over to my small, beat-up couch. My eyes were heavy and started to sink like lead weights the second that David lowered me down and finally let go. It didn’t matter that I was still completely naked, nor did I care about the sticky sensation that seemed to cover every inch of my skin. I was spent.
He kissed me once more and said in a deep, raspy voice, “I can let myself out.”
I nodded with one side of my rosy face pressed into a stack of mis-matched throw pillows. Even though I felt consciousness slipping away like grains of sand through an hourglass, there was still something that I needed to ask.
“When can I see you again?”
David stopped buttoning his jeans back up and kneeled down next to my head. For a second, it felt like he was considering something very carefully. Maybe he was. In my mind, however, I just assumed I was so tired that I was descending into insanity.
“What are you doing on Saturday night?”
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t remember my work schedule. I would find someone to cover for me if it meant seeing him again.
“Anything you want,” I whispered from the cusp of sleep.
“I’ll leave the address on the counter. Now get some rest,” he said and brushed away the loose hairs that surrounded my head. “I’ll see you in your dreams.”
Chapter 3
In the late morning hours--probably thirty minutes after my alarm started to beep louder and louder--I rolled over on the couch where David left me. At first, I wondered if all of it had been a dream. Everything that I remembered about our encounter was cocooned in a kind of heavy fog that made me wonder whether or not it was all in my head.
When I finally sat up and slammed my hand onto the screeching alarm clock, a blast of sharp stabbing ripped through my head, sending me back into the two pillows that were still left where my head was. All the others had been strewn about the floor at some point, no doubt from the typically restless sleep that I engaged in.
I was still naked from head to toe and I could feel the knots of tangled curls that were stuck to the back of my head. All of the hair that was closer to my face was whipped up in front of it like cotton candy, making my already unfocused vision even blurrier. When I tried to brush it away, all that I could think about was how hard it was going to be to brush later. Worst of all, every inch of the skin from my scalp to my neck throbbed with heat. A slight, almost waxy layer of sweat clung there and made my own touch feel foreign.
As I sank back into the wedge between the two pillows, I slipped both hands over my naked body slowly, creeping up over every sore muscle. When I got to my stomach, my touch was met by rough, dried patches. It took me a few seconds to realize what it was, but when I did, I yanked my hand away and sighed.
“Ew,” I groaned. “I need a shower.”
Before I dragged myself from the gravitational pull of the couch’s comfort, the reality of everything that happened slammed into me like a ton of bricks. I remembered most of it, though the parts that I could recall came back to be through a fog.
Even though I was behind if I wanted to get to work when I was supposed to, I took my time under the hard torrent of steaming water and washed away the night before. Only then, when the weight of everything started to swirl down the drain, did I begin to recall the darker patches in my memory, like why my back ached and just how many drinks I put down. It wasn’t something that I normally did, but then again, nothing about my encounter was David was what I would call normal.
No matter how long I tried to stretch out my time in the steaming shower, the sound of the old phone mounted in the kitchen ringing made me face the truth: I needed to get my ass to work.
---
I stumbled through the back door of Hungry Pete’s about a half hour late and feeling haggard. It was fo
rtunate that I was only scheduled for prep work, but that didn’t stop me from dreading every minute of it. All that I wanted was to melt back into my couch and take a nap.
No sooner than I had tossed down my keys onto a small break table did Alonso peek around one of several dry goods racks.
“You’re here.”
“Why yes,” I said and rubbed my brow. The headache wasn’t completely gone, but it had faded into a manageable throb just behind my right eye. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering where you went last night. I tried to call your house this morning.”
“Oh. I was home, just in the shower.” Suddenly, I felt like changing the conversation. “How’s business?”
“Slow. Alan didn’t want to come in today so Martin is here instead.”
“Typical.” I nodded and stretched out my spine. “I’d better get to work.”
Alonso cleared his throat. It was a common--if not sometimes annoying--habit that he had when he was about to ask for something. Still, I also wasn’t one to turn down a request from him. The guy worked harder than anyone I’d ever known.
“Yes?”
“Do you think you can give Martin a lunch break? We can’t get in trouble with the Labor Board again.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll go tell him.”
“Thanks,” he replied with a nod and disappeared back to his station at the dead center of the kitchen. Flanking him on one side was a small, two-basket fryer. On the other, an area for assembly and finishing sat just below the wide window where the wait staff sent in and picked up orders, which were still written by hand. As I passed through, I looked to the ticket-holder. It always reminded me of the giant swing rides that I went on at the county fair, though that night it looked rather lonely. A solitary ticket flapped from one of its fifteen clips with a single scribble of blue dashed across its surface. Past the swinging door near the assembly area, a man sat at the middle of the long counter in the dining room, sipping on a glass of water. I looked around for Martin, but didn’t find him right away.
