by Bijou Hunter
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the trailer door open. The big, sexy, shirtless asshole steps outside, and I wait to see if a woman appears from behind him. Instead, he just crosses his thick arms and frowns at the sight of me rocking out in my SUV.
Turning off the engine, I exit the vehicle and saunter toward him. “I got your romantic gesture,” I say as if my heart isn’t pounding like a jackhammer.
“What makes you think I’m alone?”
Hesitating, I lose my smile. “You’re such a whore.”
“Don’t hurt yourself with that pout. I just asked a question.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yomp.”
“Have you had the chance to catch any diseases since your tests?”
“Nomp.”
“Can I come inside and ride your dick?”
“Maybe.”
Fighting annoyance, I ask, “Why, maybe?”
“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for your drama right now. Still sore about you talking to my mom.”
I stroll up to Goliath and size him up. “Why are you such a tease?”
“Fuck off, Campbell.”
Losing my confidence, I’m struck by panic. “I need to get out of here,” I say and back away toward my car. “You’ve got an attitude problem.”
I glance back to find Goliath coming for me. Maybe it’s his size or that we’re in an oppressive slice of woods or that I’ve seen way too many horror movies. Whatever the reason, I take off running. When I realize I can’t get my keys out of my pocket before he reaches me, I curve around my SUV and try to escape him.
“Stop running,” Goliath growls at me.
“Stop chasing me!” I cry over my shoulder.
Then I morph into the first girl to die in a horror movie by tripping over literally nothing and ending up on my ass. Catching up, Goliath stares down at me as I remain on the ground.
“I’m too tired to run anymore.”
“Pathetic,” he says as his gaze locks on my boobs rising and falling with my rapid breathing.
“When I got here, I wanted you naked. Now I’m ready to go home and watch TV.”
“I’m tired of your mouth.”
“You’re hurting my feelings. Is that what your goal is here?”
Rolling his eyes, Goliath takes my hands and tugs me to my feet. “More drama.”
“Are you walking me to my car?” I ask once he wraps his huge hand around my bicep and pulls me back toward his trailer.
“You want my dick. I’ll give you my dick.”
“I don’t know. I’m mean, whoa,” I babble as the edible kicks into my system and makes the leaves on my ass decorative rather than embarrassing.
Goliath tugs me into his trailer, which isn’t nearly as “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” as I worried. While he isn’t a big believer in hanging up his clothes, the dishes are done, and the place smells of burgers rather than armpits.
Shutting his door, he leers at me. “Are you stoned?”
“More like feeling groovy, baby.”
“You need drugs to fuck me?”
“Let me put it this way, whiner,” I say, tugging free of my jacket and kicking off my boots. “If it was my giant dick about to pound your virgin pussy, would you want to be relaxed? This is about survival, motherfucker.”
Goliath allows a tiny smile. “Fair enough. Does that mean I don’t have to be careful?”
Gulping down too much air, I beg, “Please, don’t kill me with your dick.”
“Why do you assume my dick is huge? Can’t it be small or regular-sized while the rest of me is supersized?”
“Sure, but is it?”
Goliath’s smirk is the only answer I get before he tugs me against him and runs his hands through my hair. His lips are on mine before I can demand romantic pandering. Where is the stuff about me being so sexy and special and shit? Then again, if I wanted poetry, I shouldn’t be in a biker’s trailer.
I decide Goliath’s rough neediness isn’t that he’s a rough, needy lover. No, fuck that! He’s just super into me. How could he not be? I’ve got big tits and lots of fun curves. I’m not too much for him. No, he nearly tears off my shirt because he’s dying to press his face between my tits. How could he not be all about my hot body?
Goliath forces my bra to submit to his thick fingers. I don’t know if he actually undoes the clasps or rips the fabric. Then he plants his face between my boobs and inhales deeply as if he’s Dennis Hopper in “Blue Velvet.” His gray eyes flash up to my face and study me. Then he lifts his lips and covers mine. Goliath doesn’t kiss as much as demand my submission. He steals my breath. His heat slams into me, filling my body with arousal that shorts out my common sense.
“No reason to be scared,” he murmurs once his lips leave mine, and I realize I’m trembling.
I can’t explain my fears. Words feel dumb right now. I just kiss him and run my fingers through his wild hair. His lips leave mine and suck at my throat. He makes animalistic growls as his mouth feasts on my overheated flesh. I’m a little afraid of him going wild on my nipples. What if this bear of a man doesn’t return them in one piece?
Then his tongue bathes my right nipple, and I go weak in the knees. Between the pot and my intense lust, there is no world outside of this trailer. No past or future. It’s just this huge man and me. We need to feel good. That’s all I know. Nothing else matters.
His fingers tug down my sweatpants and underwear until I’m buck naked against him. I reach for his jeans, but he pushes away my hands and yanks them off himself. I don’t dare look at his cock. I can’t let myself fear what’s about to happen. If I get logical and consider how big he is, then I might shut down this sexy adventure. I’m sober enough to know I don’t want this to stop.
Not that I don’t take charge too. I maneuver Goliath into a sitting position on the bed. I straddle him before he can bitch. There is no way I want my first time under this giant man, where I’ll spend far too much time wondering if I’m about to die.
Then I lose the battle against his strong will. He leans me back and returns his lips to my nipples. His feverish sucking makes my pussy go wild. I grind my wet slit against his hard bulge and shiver at the pressure. Goliath’s big hands control my position, tugging me back upright, where he sucks at my tongue. I moan into his mouth and grip his softer-than-I-expect hair. His left hand holds my hip while his right one grips his dick angrily. I don’t know why he’s so rough with the poor thing. No reason to punish it for wanting my lucky charms. Yet even from the corner of my eye, I see how he manhandles his meat.
“You want this,” he demands in his bear voice.
“For so long,” I babble as his thick cock slides against my wet pussy. “I want you.”
Goliath doesn’t shove himself inside me, only giving me a small taste of his dick. His gray eyes watch me like a wary animal offered food by a sketchy human. I’m a threat, even though he could hurt me without even trying.
I press my lips to his, needing another taste before his hesitation kills my buzzed horniness.
“Shelby,” he says when my lips leave his.
I don’t say his name in response since I don’t know if he wants his club name or his legal one. Trying to keep things sexy rather than confusing, I just mumble, “Yeah, baby?”
His face doesn’t reveal a damn thing except for his eyes. They warm, and he finally offers me another inch of his mini-goliath.
Kissing him again, I groan approvingly. His arms wrap around me, making clear how there’s no escape from this ride.
Once my body has taken as much cock as it can fit, I inhale deeply and roll my hips faster.
And that’s how at the age of twenty-seven, I finally lost my virginity to a giant man in the woods.
THE GOLIATH
I never thought I’d see the day when Shelby Campbell was naked in my bed. I only sent the test results because I thought she was full of shit about fucking me. She claimed she feared a disease. I called her bluff. Well, fuck, if she did
n’t call mine right back.
Then she ran away. Then she got naked. Then she was shaking like a fucking leaf. I don’t get Shelby Campbell, and I don’t know if I ever will.
But she’s hotter than I imagined in my many dirty fantasies about this woman. When she kisses me, she releases a storm of emotions. I have no doubt she wants me right this second. There’s no con there. She’s too wild and unruly to be faking a fucking thing.
Shelby doesn’t want to be on her back under me. Not surprised to learn she’s a control freak. I still lean her forward until she’s spread out on the ridiculous blanket I was gifted by the Reapers days after I returned to Shasta. Apparently, one of Cooper Johansson’s daughters has an obsessive need to create the grandma blankets. Since he’s the head honcho in Ellsberg, I need to have this red-and-blue patriotic fucking quilt in my home. I guess I could toss it out, but what if they check up on that shit? I’m not getting killed over a damn blanket.
The quilt sure looks better with Shelby’s sweaty body on top of it. Her thick, brown hair is spread out everywhere. Her thighs shine with our juices. The skin on her perfect round tits is pink from my kisses. Her bright brown eyes watch me lazily. Still stoned, she tries to wiggle free when I crawl over her.
“I’m not done,” I say as she presses her hands against my wide chest. “You’re not either. Simmer down.”
“Say something nice about me.”
I hold her gaze, realizing she’s sober—and stubborn—enough to put the brakes on our fun. Not knowing if she’ll ever end up back in my bed, I relent to her demand.
“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Now relax your thighs,” I say as the palm of my hand cups her pussy. “You know you want to.”
As Shelby’s gaze gets soft, she reaches up to run her hands down my arms. “Naked never looked better than on you.”
Her words do something to me. They get my back up, leaving me on the spot and unsure how to respond.
Instead of talking, I kiss her plump lips. Soft at first. Then I can’t help biting at the fatter lower one. She tastes so fucking good. I feel the way I did on my first day out of prison, desperate for the pleasure that only a woman’s touch can give.
Her hands gently explore my shoulders and back when my lips slide down to her throat. Inhaling, I finally figure out what I’ve been smelling since she walked into the trailer. It’s the same fruity scent she always brings to a room. Only when my face is pressed between her tits, do I realize it’s watermelon. Clean and sweet, that’s how Shelby Campbell smells.
I could spend all day just playing with her magnificent tits. Yet I feel on a timer with Shelby. She’s so close to making a run for it. I catch her glancing at the door more than once. Even stoned, her mind considers escape.
Then her gaze finds mine, and she allows a little smile. She’s not a hundred percent here with me, but she isn’t gone either.
Just in case, I pin her to the bed with my strong body and then stick her with my large dick. Shelby Campbell ain’t going anywhere.
Every thrust into her body makes her perfect tits bounce. Shelby gasps and shivers depending on how fast I move. I like having that kind of control over this woman.
“Fish Fillet,” she groans when her pussy tightens around my cock. “Whopper.”
I don’t know what’s happening in her brain that makes her choose that shit to say rather than normal sex stuff, but I’m not complaining. Especially when her pussy has a death grip on my dick. I swear she’s willing her cunt to break off a piece for later. She even wears a crazy expression when she comes. Hell, I might be the one in trouble here.
Shelby calms down after her orgasm. Then she watches me as if she wants to remember all the details later for when she writes in her diary or creates a police report. I can’t tell where her head is. Never could, but she’s been all kinds of crazy since showing up.
I’m almost relieved when I jizz and can create space between us. Except I get a stab of panic as soon as I’ve shoved my body in the too-small corner of the sleeping area of the trailer. Shelby remains at the other end of the large bed. She doesn’t move or look at me. I’m certain she’ll run. I’ve prepared myself for whatever crazy shit she’ll do next, but I still wish she was next to me instead of out of reach.
Rather than scream and take off naked into the woods, Shelby just rolls over and smiles. “Was that really so bad?” she asks and crawls toward me. “Don’t know what you were so worried about.”
“Are you talking to me or the voices in your head?”
“You, silly. The voices and I communicate psychically,” she says and smiles in the way she does with her friends and brother. Her gaze holds mine as she stretches out next to where I sit. “I can’t believe I just got fucked on top of a Lily Johansson quilt. I should send a text to let her know. I sense she’ll appreciate that knowledge.”
“She’s the top guy’s daughter, right?”
“Yes, Cooper Johansson’s oldest daughter. Lily thinks I’m weird, and I know she’s a square. We’ll never see eye to eye. Still, this is a pretty quilt on your bed.”
I ain’t got nothing to say about her trash-talking a person I’ll probably never know. A better use of my time is focusing on her curvy ass as she rolls to her stomach and admires the stitching on the blanket.
“How come you were a virgin?”
“I told you. Men stink.”
“That’s not a good reason. I stink. You still came here.”
Shelby lifts her gaze and says, “I don’t know. I like you, okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you like me?”
There’s something about her voice when she asks that question that puts me on the spot. Am I supposed to declare my love or devotion or spout some other Valentine’s Day-type shit? I don’t even know this woman. She might be prettier than anyone I’ve ever seen, but that don’t mean I want to be her bitch.
“Sure.”
Frowning, Shelby lifts herself up to her knees. “That much, huh?”
“I’d like you more if you sucked me off.”
“I’m never doing that,” she says, getting cold real fast.
“Don’t be a prude now,” I say and reach over to wrap my hand behind her neck. “You were plenty of fun just a few minutes ago.”
Leaning away from me, Shelby growls, “Fuck your fun.”
I realize she’s finally found her reason to bolt. Reaching over to grab her wrist, I want her to settle down. Shelby gives my hand a dark frown and then, for some reason, tries to bite me. Without thinking, I lift my fist as I would to any threat. I’m not walking through life, letting people bite me.
Shelby catches sight of my fist and goes still. Her eyes stare in horror, and I hear her whisper her brother’s name. For just a second, I see myself through her eyes. I’m a fucking monster.
“You’re not worth all this trouble,” I say, resting my hands on my lap. “Just get your shit and leave.”
Shelby doesn’t move for a few seconds. She’s like one of those spooked deer, thinking they’re invisible as long as they stay real still. Then her face does some kind of sad girl thing, and she scoots away rather than turn her back on me. Sure, I’m the threat. She’s the fucking bitch that can tell her brother to end me over her hurt feelings. But, yeah, I’m the bad guy here.
In such a rush, Shelby doesn’t even put on her shoes or jacket before making a run for her SUV. I don’t look outside to watch her go. If I’m dying tonight because of Shelby Campbell, I might as well sit back and enjoy the feel of her pussy still on my cock.
THE WEIRDO
The edible keeps me from completely panicking. Otherwise, I’d drive straight to Ellsberg and hide at my parents’ house for a few days, or weeks, a month maybe. Mom has kept my room untouched since I moved out. I could just cuddle up in my home with two of my favorite people and forget all about Shasta with its stink, a serial killer, and my bruised heart.
Though I don’t flee to Ellsberg, I do speed away from the ang
ry man’s trailer in the woods. After nearly losing control and killing a tree, I pull over to get myself under control.
“You’re stoned and scared,” I say to the crying chick in the mirror. “You are a menace on the road. What if you run over a squirrel or a mama bunny rabbit? Calm yourself.”
Instead, I cry harder. Why did I let my guard down? I need to remain alert, be smart, strap a gun to my lucky charms. Instead, I got naked and tried to bond with a bully.
I think to call Taylor, but she’ll overreact to my crying and call Shane. He’ll overreact to my tears by killing Goliath. Maybe I’m a prima donna, but I feel as if I’m the only one who should be overreacting about this situation.
Rather than call my best friends or brother, I dial Mom. She answers, sounding worried.
“Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You already called today. Did something bad happen?”
“I had sex, and it wasn’t as rewarding an experience as I hoped,” I say, sniffling like a snotty kid. “Is Dad there?”
“No, he’s at Whiskey Kirk’s with the guys.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. I’m reading.”
“Will you read to me so I can calm down?”
“Where’s Shane?”
“He didn’t come with me to have sex,” I say, and she chuckles. “I don’t want him getting upset and acting like a protective little brother. Will you help me calm down?”
“But I’m reading a historical romance, Shelby. I don’t think you want to hear that.”
“As long as it’s not a sex part, I don’t care.”
I climb out of my SUV, crawl in the back, and curl up under a blanket I always keep for emergencies. I’m relieved my nephews’ car seats aren’t in the way, so I can baby myself. Mom starts to read, and I imagine how bad everyone in the story must stink.
Goliath smelled soapy when I nuzzled his hot skin. Under different circumstances, I could have learned to overlook the natural man-stink for him. Like if he had a different personality. Or liked me. Yeah, under different circumstances, I could focus on his good smells. Just like I focus on the good stuff about Shasta and not all the crap I hate.
