Sex Symbol

by Tracey H. Kitts

  “That’s sweet of you. But I’m gonna finish my beer and head on out. I should be able to catch the last of the game on TV.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I picked up my coat and glass while Chase took the pitcher and brought it to the corner booth. The bar had started to fill up by now and I wanted to get to the jukebox before it already had three days’ worth of country songs selected. I hated country music, aside from a few slow classics. It was all too damn sad for my taste and especially too sad for my mood. “My wife shot my dog so I had to shoot my wife before she ran off with the mobile home” was not my idea of entertainment. Actually, it hit a little too close to home sometimes.

  Chase took a wad of quarters out of his apron and slapped them onto the table in front of me. “Knock yourself out. Dance, drink and have fun.” He turned to leave, and then looked back over his shoulder. “And babe, put a little umph in it.”

  With a smile I took his quarters and started selecting every R&B song on the list.

  Alcohol had never made me so horny before. Ever. It just did not have that effect on me. Normally I just got relaxed and if I drank enough I’d pass out. Although that had only happened twice in my life. I wasn’t a heavy drinker. At least, not on a regular basis. Every now and then, like tonight, I’d get good and liquored up. Rarely was this done in public either. I should have stopped after one pitcher, I really should. But I didn’t.

  Chase had just delivered a second pitcher of key lime margaritas to my booth as I started a particularly nasty little dance routine. I loved to dance, but I saved the really raunchy, crotch grabbing, breast cupping stuff for when I was alone. Except for tonight. I had no qualms about running my hands up and down my legs as I bent over and rested my ass against the jukebox. I flipped my hair back with a violent sort of motion, running my hands down my breasts and over my slowly rotating hips.

  I stroked the seam of my pants and could feel the lusty grin spreading across my face. My makeup was probably running, but I didn’t give a damn. Up until then I had tuned out the crowd, but when I looked up I saw Ozzy coming my way. He was not quite six feet tall. His short red hair was darker than mine, so dark that it almost looked brown. Ozzy is short for Oswald. All I really knew about his past was that his family used to be rich, but they weren’t anymore. Despite that fact he’d come to town six years ago with lots of money. I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer to tell. He did say that paying for my shop to get started might help to change his karma.

  Ozzy always looked like he’d escaped from a dinner party somewhere and just started to loosen up. No matter where he went he wore black slacks and a white dress shirt. In six years I had never seen him in jeans and now I found the thought of seeing him in nothing at all very appealing. I had a weakness for redheaded men. Not the kind with freckles all over, but the kind who had a normal complexion and just happened to have red hair. It did something for me.

  Aside from the hair I liked so much, Ozzy had deep brown eyes and a nice body. Oh, and let’s not forget his lips. They weren’t particularly large or full or anything you hear about in romance novels. They were just sexy and right now they looked fun to touch.

  He approached me slowly and his smile matched mine. When he was close enough to touch I pressed my body against his and reached down to cup his balls in my hand. To my surprise his expression didn’t change. A low, anguished whistle could be heard somewhere in the crowd as I said, “Hello, Ozzy.”

  Chapter Four

  Unfriendly ideas

  I squeezed gently and his expression still remained the same. Damn it felt good to touch him like this. His pants were soft and to my delight, his cock was growing hard.

  “Have I ever told you how much I like your lips?”

  I leaned forward as if to kiss him and Oz pulled back, but not enough to remove my hand.

  “You really have been drinking a lot tonight.”

  He put his arm around me and with his hand against the small of my back, led me to my booth.

  “How did you know where I was sitting?”

  He smiled. “Because your coat is here.”

  I refreshed my drink and took a sip. “Have one with me?”

  He dangled my keys over the table. “I’m your designated driver, but I’ll watch you drink all you like and if I have to, I’ll carry you out of here over my shoulder.”

  Oz could have said that to me any other time and I’d have thought nothing of it. But tonight it sounded more sexual somehow…and I liked it. He reached across the table and took my hand. Where I normally found comfort I now found an almost painful state of arousal. Why had his touch never done this to me before?

  “What’s gotten you so worked up?” he asked softly.

  “The touch of your hand for one thing.”

  “You know what I mean. You don’t usually drink like this.”

  “Chase called you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  We sat there in silence for almost a full minute, Ozzy quietly waiting for my answer while I continued to drink. I couldn’t tell Chase or Justina what had happened, but I could tell Oz. He had joked with me before that he must look like a priest because I had no trouble confessing my sins to him. I’m not sure why, but I could tell him things sometimes that I couldn’t tell anybody else. Like how I felt right now.

  “I saw James a few days ago and he didn’t even acknowledge me.” I blurted it out before I had time to really think. Here I was thinking that what Jackie Morrison had said was the worst of it, but apparently that wasn’t so.

  “I smiled at him and everything, Oz, and he just turned away like I wasn’t there at all.”

  I could feel the tears burning my eyes and knew that the instant they fell my mascara would run if it wasn’t already. Ozzy put his hand back over mine and I looked down as big droplets of tears hit the table.

  “Mrs. Morrison said that he was thinking of starting a family.”

  “Fuck Jackie Morrison.”

  I snapped my head back up and couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t that Oz never used bad language, he just didn’t normally use the f-word when talking about old women.

  “I’d rather not,” I said with a laugh.

  “No one would, and that’s part of her problem. She never thinks before she opens her mouth. I bet that old bat hasn’t had anything nice to say in thirty years.”

  I laughed harder and it felt really good.

  “Don’t listen to what she has to say and don’t let yourself get worked up over a moron like James.”

  Ozzy had remained quiet on the subject of James and our breakup. He had refrained from offering an opinion of any kind before now. I wasn’t sure how to take his comment.

  “You think James is a moron?” I giggled just a little bit, further evidence that I’d had too much to drink.

  “He left a smoking hot redhead with a beautiful body and ended up with a mediocre blonde with no tits. Are you kidding me? The man is obviously brain dead.”

  To my surprise I could feel myself blushing at his words. Grabbing my crotch in front of a room full of people hadn’t made me blush, but Ozzy’s compliment did. Imagine that.

  “You think I’m hot?”

  “I think you’re gorgeous, but that’s not news.”

  When he spoke his smile reached his eyes and I wanted very much for him to hold me.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked.

  “Dance with me.” He didn’t hesitate. Ozzy rose to his feet and took my hand, leading me back in front of the jukebox. “One of these days all this crap with James is gonna be like water under the troll.”

  Oz busted out laughing. “You mean under the bridge, honey. Not the troll.”

  “Shit, there’s trolls under bridges.”

  He continued to laugh softly as he pulled me to him. “Well, I suppose it would have to go under them too then.”

  The song playing was slow and every beat seemed to make my heart thump along with it. I pressed myself against Ozzy and c
ould feel my nipples grow hard with the contact.

  “Touch me, Oz. Put your hands on me.”

  He moved his hands to my waist and pulled me harder against him. One leg slipped between mine and I ground my crotch against his thigh.

  “You sure you want to do this in public?” he asked.

  “Everyone in town already thinks we’re fucking. Let’s not disappoint them.”

  Oz started to move with me then to the unapologetically naughty song. His hips moved and I gasped, imagining so many other things. I put my hands on his waist so that I could feel him flex as he moved and I could feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I was so wet now that grinding against his leg made my panties slip just a little and the slight friction almost made me come.

  I could feel everyone’s eyes on us, but I was more concerned with Ozzy’s hands.

  “You know,” he whispered against my face, “this sort of dancing doesn’t go over well in the Bible Belt.” I knew he was teasing me. Ozzy hated the puritanical notions that still ruled the South just as much as I did.

  “Well, I think that belt needs to be unbuckled every now and then.” I ran my hands underneath his belt, just inside his pants. “Maybe you could even take it off and spank me with it.”

  “I think I should take you home, honey. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Yes, I do. And I want you to take me home. Do you know what I’d like you to do next?”

  His eyes had darkened with desire until they appeared black. I knew he wanted me, but I also knew that Oz would never sleep with me if he thought it was just the alcohol talking.

  “What did he put in those margaritas?” he teased.

  “Oz, I want to tell you something. I know that we’re friends and I want to continue to be friends. I cherish our relationship, I really do. But right now I’ve got some very unfriendly things I’d like for you to do to me and I really think I’ll be all right with that in the morning.” He hesitated and I added, “I’m not saying this because I’m drunk. I want you, but if it weren’t for the alcohol, I probably wouldn’t have the courage to tell you.”

  “So, you’d just like to fuck me and go back to living your life?” He said it so matter-of-factly, yet it didn’t sound harsh at all. “Why didn’t you say so before now?”

  Well, that was not the response I had expected.

  “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I love you, Oz. You’re my oldest friend besides Chase.”

  His smile was the most wicked thing I’d seen in a long time. “Darling, I’m a sociopath. I don’t think you can hurt my feelings.” He ran his hands down my back, but stopped just short of grabbing my ass. I had no such inhibitions about touching him. “Tell me what unfriendly things you’d like for me to do to you.”

  I leaned in close enough to appreciate the soft smell of his cologne. “I’d like for you to take me home and then I want you to take your cock and put it inside me. I want you to give it to me hard and rough until my screams rattle the floorboards. I want it until I tell you to stop. I want you to remember all the times we talked about sex and I want you to do all the things you know I like. Because we both know you paid attention.”

  “Yes, I did. When would you like to do this?”

  “Right now.”

  *

  The ride home was a mixture of hands and lips and tongue. It’s a wonder I didn’t run us off the road.

  “I don’t know what’s come over me,” I panted.

  “Well, in just about a minute it can come over me, we’re almost there,” Ozzy said.

  He parked in front of the garage and I almost got out. But then I remembered that he always opened my door. As he walked around the car, the thunderclouds overhead finally burst and he was soaked by the time he opened the door. My first thought as I saw him standing in the rain was that I didn’t have any other neighbors for miles. There was no trace of the mystery man next door when we drove up and I really didn’t give a rat’s ass about any traffic. I was far enough off the beaten path that we shouldn’t see anyone.

  “Hand me the umbrella, I’ll keep you from getting wet,” he said.

  “Too late.”

  I wondered how it seemed to be raining only around my house. But as he opened the door wider and reached for me, I didn’t really care if frogs fell from the sky and splattered on the pavement. What I did care about was how warm and real his hand felt as it completely covered mine.

  “Are you a criminal, Oz?”

  He seemed surprised. It was the closest I’d ever come to asking how he got his money.

  “Why do you ask?” he replied smoothly.

  “Because I’ve heard that criminals will fuck you like they might go back to jail tomorrow.”

  He only laughed in response.

  I stood up and saw him slip my keys into his pocket, before either of us could forget that we would need them later. It occurred to me then that I hadn’t seen Oz in two weeks. As I stood there, feeling the heat rising from his body, breathing in his familiar scent, I realized how much I had missed him. How much I had longed to run my fingers through his hair, although I never had. But that didn’t stop me from doing so now and enjoying the way his eyes closed almost involuntarily every time that I touched him.

  Some time over the past two weeks he’d cut his hair. It was always short, but now it was back to being a bit more orderly. Still, there was enough length to fall down over his forehead and the stray hairs I brushed back looked black instead of red. Ozzy looked great wet.

  It occurred to me as I deliberately messed up his hair that neither of us had spoken in several minutes. Not a word. I stood on tiptoe to kiss him but he beat me to it, meeting me halfway.

  I have never in all my life been so aroused. I thought I would be finished before he ever really touched me. I moaned as he pressed the front of his body tight against mine, letting me feel the full extent of his erection pressed against my belly. The kiss that had begun so softly was now a deep, penetrating tangle of lips and teeth and tongue. I began to suck on his lower lip and he completely lost it, moaning as he took me in his arms.

  Faster than I would have thought him capable, he picked me up, slamming me against the car. I growled and wrapped myself around him. I thought this would shock him, but it only seemed to provoke him further.

  He pinned me to the car with his hips as he gracefully shrugged out of his wet shirt. I had never seen him without a shirt before. Ozzy is exactly ten years older than me. That would make him thirty-eight if you were wondering, and he was in damn good shape. I ran my fingers up through the back of his wet hair, pulling hard enough to cause his head to tilt, exposing his throat.

  I began biting gently along his neck, barely controlling the urge to bite harder. The thought of leaving teeth marks briefly crossed my mind, but I decided against it. I’ll be honest, I really don’t remember how my shirt and bra got off. I was wearing only a very wet pair of jeans, chewing on Ozzy’s neck in the darkness like a vampire. What had possessed me?

  I’d always thought he was attractive, but never acted on those feelings before. It was like I had suddenly gone wild. Whatever beast I had managed to keep at bay for so many long years came unleashed as I began to unbuckle his belt. I actually snarled, becoming frustrated with the button on his pants.

  He smiled ever so slightly as he lowered me to the ground, unbuttoning them himself. I ran my hands eagerly into his pants and wrapped my fingers around his throbbing cock.

  “Mmm, silk,” I said.

  I’d never been with a man who wore silk underwear before. He pressed me back against the car again, spreading my arms out like he was searching me for weapons. His hands and mouth were warm in contrast to the rain that fell like cold needles against my skin. I tilted my face upward in an attempt to cool the fever burning inside me. His mouth made a warm trail down my body before finally stopping at my jeans.

  He unbuttoned them with practiced ease and slid them off. Being naked in the rain was sweet relief. It
felt wonderful to be out of my clothes. I couldn’t imagine why I’d wanted to wear them in the first place, much too restrictive.

  Oz put his hands on my ass, lifting me against the car again. Only this time he hooked my legs over his shoulders and buried his face in my pussy. I growled and arched against him, my hands losing their grip on the wet metal I tried to use for leverage. He licked and sucked at my clit like a pro while I left angry red nail marks on his shoulders where I clung desperately as if trying to pull myself through him.

  Finally he lowered me to the ground again, and I could barely stand.

  “What was it you wanted me to do again?”

  “I want you to put your cock in me.” My request came out as more of a moan, but that didn’t matter.

  He grabbed me around the waist, lifting and slamming me against the car for the third time. I reached between our bodies as my legs wrapped around him and placed his cock right over my opening.

  “I need you to fuck me good and hard, Oz. You think you can do that for me?”

  He slammed into me full force. My cry of passion sounded more like triumph as I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. Ozzy was not small. It was hard to take at first, but it was exactly what I wanted. I adjusted quickly. The wet slapping noises our bodies made was driving me crazy. It was most likely from the rain, but just imagining my pussy being that wet was enough to get me there.

  I arched against the door, thrusting my hips toward Ozzy, giving back as much as I could of what he was giving.

  “I’m gonna come, Oz. Grind against me, it rubs my clit at the same time and… Oh! That’s it!”

  As my muscles clamped tight around him his voice was strained in my ear. “Should I pull out now? I didn’t bring a condom.”

  “I’m on the Pill. Come inside me, Oz. I want to feel your cum running down me.”

  I felt his muscles go stiff with effort and his labored breathing stop for a split second as he came. It was wickedly sexy to hear him come, even though he didn’t say a thing. To feel the way his body moved against me and the warm spill of his cum between my thighs. When did I become such a nympho?