by S. D. Grady
* * * *
Liam pulled Miss Bernie to his chest when he felt the last of her orgasm dwindle, leaving her a limp bundle of woman in his arms. He remained as hard as a rock, but he could be patient, now that he knew she was his.
Mine, mine, mine, chanted a deep voice. He wondered if anybody else around him could hear.
She sighed; her hot breath tickled his neck.
He sat for a moment and held her, before reality began to sneak its nasty little head back into his life.
Bernie pushed at his chest even before her eyes opened.
“Where can I drop you?”
She frowned, blinked and met his questioning gaze. “Mr. Clarke?”
He pressed her head back onto his shoulder. “Take another minute, sweetie. We’ve all the time in the world.”
But he knew this was a stolen moment, as the woman’s mind was clearly kicking back into gear. She continued to pull away from him and straighten her clothes.
He caught one long curl and tugged. “Seriously, I’d love to continue our…” He nipped at her ear, delighted in yet another sigh. “Our conversation somewhere less…public?”
She rolled her neck. And then rewarded him with a brilliant smile. “I dunno, Mr. Clarke. It seems I liked the place. What other tricks might you have up your sleeve?” Sex sleepy eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Is that a challenge, young lady?” He looked down and savored the sight of her generous cleavage hidden beneath the slippery top. His hands itched to explore more of this surprising and sensuous woman. She batted her eyes for good measure. Unable to avoid the invitation, he stole another kiss, letting it linger until she whimpered and tried to pull back. “Good God, I can’t figure this out.”
She stretched and shimmied. Every movement teased him with a whole new set of wonderful curves to enjoy. “Mr. Clarke, I have never…” She paused. “Felt that in my entire life. Do what you will to me, because I can’t wait to do it again.”
Liam swallowed. “Are you a virgin?”
“No.” She laughed. “But let’s just say you must have the magic…” Her fingers fluttered in an expressive attempt at description. “And I want more.”
“Here?” he offered. Somebody cleared their throat at the next table. Liam glanced over. Yes, time to go. The natives were getting a bit restless. “Can we drive your car?”
She pouted. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I can drive my car…nobody else.”
He flipped over a few scenarios in his mind. With the little lady in the driver’s seat, it changed the whole dynamic.
“Will you drive me?” He hoped.
Again, she let loose that infectious chuckle. “Of course, Mr. Clarke. Anywhere you want to go.”
“Anytime….anything?”
She stood up, pulled at her very short skirt and repeated, “Of course, Mr. Clarke.”
A Movie
Bernie put the pedal down and smiled in contentment as the Camaro’s engine answered the demand with a quiet rumble. City lights sank into the distance, while the white dashes of the highway zipped beneath the nose of the car.
Free, it was the only word she could summon that described her feelings at the moment. She wished for a convertible, where the wind would whip through her unbound hair. She laughed. Energy coursed through her body, a pleasant echo of the thrill she lived at his hands.
Liam sat in the passenger’s seat, silent, rubbing at his upper lip with one of those long, thick fingers that could tease, torment, tickle…her eyes crossed in delicious memory. Focus, Bernie, focus.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. His Adam’s apple bounced. When did he remove his tie? That didn’t much matter, but it did expose a new patch of muscle and skin for her to explore.
“I was thinking somewhere dark…”
She shivered. Yes. “A motel?” Only the Good Lord knew where her common sense had disappeared, but right now her body could only think about one thing, grabbing this guy’s ass and squeezing hard. Bernie waved her hand in front of her face to ease the sudden flash of heat while she conjured images of muscled, naked flesh.
“No. No beds. Just dark.”
“Will it be quiet?”
He leaned back in his seat and twisted so he could face her a bit. “No. And it will be very crowded.”
Bernie moaned and squeezed her legs tight against the sudden rush of warmth between her thighs. What was she doing? “Will they be able to see?”
“Take this exit.” He pointed in the needed direction. “Only if you make enough noise to distract them from the film.”
She swallowed against the excitement thrumming through her veins. “What will you do to me?”
He traced the shell of her ear before he answered, “I haven’t entirely decided, yet. Look at me.”
“I’m driving.”
He laughed, a low raspy chuckle. “Sorry. You know where the theatre is?”
She struggled to keep the car to the limit as she navigated the few short turns into the strip mall where the movie theatre was located. She wanted him. She wanted his cock inside her. Beating, stroking…her heart stuttered with anticipation. Would he make her straddle him in the seats? Her entire body quivered.
She found a spot under a light and threw the shifter into park. The yellow glow from above filled the car. She tucked a curl behind her ear and finally gave him a long look.
“You are one amazing woman.”
His compliment sent shivers all through her body. “Thank you.”
“Take off your bra.”
A little bit of fear teased her nerves. “Here?”
“Yes. It’s either that or I remove it in there.” He pointed toward the brilliant neon lit entryway of the theatre. “I have yet had the chance to touch your breasts.”
No control. She had none where this man was concerned. Her nipples tightened into hard nubs at his words. Yes, she needed his rough hands holding the full globes, his tongue placing a damp circle around the sensitive tips, teeth biting down… Somehow, it felt as if the temperature in the car rose another ten degrees.
She reached under her shirt and released the clasp in the back, and then paused. She leaned forward enough for the neckline of the blouse to gape open, reached up one sleeve and pulled the strap of her bra down.
Liam rubbed his lower chin, the rasp of his day old beard mingled with the sound of the slip and slide of silk against skin. Bernie looked down. The length of his cock pressed against the confines of his slacks, an invitation for her to reach out and touch.
“Continue, Miss Bernie.” He gestured at the dangling bra strap.
Oh yes, do what he says, she reminded herself. She licked her lips and grinned when she noticed his eyes widen. She pulled the other bra strap down, reached under the front of her shirt, and pulled the bra free.
He coughed to clear his throat. “How did you do that?”
Bernie twirled the white, lace bit of underwear on the end of her finger. “I lived with three brothers in a small apartment. You learn to get creative…”
“But I didn’t get to see what I wanted.”
She leaned across the car, and placed her right hand on the back of his seat to provide an eye-full. “Is that better, Mr. Clarke?”
He pushed himself back against the door. “Yes, thank you Miss Bernie. That is very nice. Do you like them sucked?”
“Please.”
“Not now. Later.” He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and loosened it with a tug. “I will let you know what I expect.”
Bernie whimpered. Her body wasn’t nearly done playing for the evening. The restraint she needed to wait made her ache, in every limb and crevice. She was fairly certain she could spend hours tasting the firm lips of Mr. Clarke, running her hands through the hair on his chest…a few dark strands appeared at the top of his shirt. She wanted to wrap her legs around his hips. She wanted…
“Just to review, Miss Bernie, if I ask you to d
o something, I expect you to comply. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Clarke. Anything.”
“Good girl. Now, what do you want to see?”
“Your pants off.”
“No, what movie?”
Bernie reached into the back and snagged her pocketbook. “I really don’t care. I don’t expect I’ll be watching.”
He stopped her, grabbed her upper arms, and pulled her to him. Hard lips crashed down. Hot tongues mingled. Bernie sucked in a deep breath. His taste swirled through her senses. A hand grasped her breast through the thin fabric of her blouse. His nail scored across the nipple.
Bernie hissed into his mouth, and pressed into the hand. More. It wasn’t enough. She squirmed against a fresh rush of moisture between her legs. Her womb clenched.
He continued to tease her nipple. His other hand ran down her back, reached under her skirt, and massaged her buttock. One of those long, long fingers ran down her crack, collected a bit of moisture from her pussy and trailed back up. He pulled away.
They sat in the half-light of the parking lot trying to catch their breath.
“You make me forget myself, Miss Bernie.”
She nodded. “You, too.”
“Shall we go?”
Bernie sat up, ran her hand through her curls and nodded. “Mr. Clarke, if you don’t fuck me within the hour, I just might go insane.”
He got out of the car, rested his arms across the roof, and waited for her to appear. “Miss Bernie, I intend to fuck you until you can’t think anymore.”
* * * *
This was a very serious problem, Liam realized. Somehow during the evening, he had stopped worrying about where his interactions with the lovely Miss Bernie might lead. That didn’t matter. All he wanted, no needed, was her body wrapped around his. Her heat searing his cock. Juices making embarrassing noises. Like some ape, he wanted the whole fucking world to hear what he could wring from her lovely mouth. Pants, groans, screams…it wouldn’t be enough. A bed wasn’t needed, such luxury indicated sweet, soft emotions were involved. That simply wasn’t so.
Her boots clicked against the pavement in a hurried tattoo. Eager, teasing, full of abandon. If this was a fantasy, he hoped it would never end. But it would. The sun would rise, and with it the pleasant buzz of constant arousal would vanish in a pop, the bubbles of hunger disappearing with the night. Which meant it remained up to him to build memories for both of them.
She slowed, stopped, and drew his attention back to the present. Bernie stood in line, her arms crossed over her chest, a preoccupied expression tightened her mouth. Such responsive lips… His cock thickened. What would it feel like as she swallowed around his engorged member? He’d dig his hands into her scalp. She’d be naked, those large, peach colored breasts bouncing as she bobbed back and forth, taking him deep. He’d bump the back of her throat. She’d gag.
He wanted to see her nipples—red, hard, hungry for his mouth.
“Bernie,” he whispered.
Her shiver almost brought him to his knees each time.
“What?”
“Drop your arms.”
Her head snapped to the side, her eyes full of angry flame. “No.”
He let the moment stretch as they sidled forward with the line waiting to purchase tickets. “You said anything, anywhere.”
Her cheeks flushed, looked back down at the sidewalk and then finally let her arms fall to her sides.
Liam’s balls tickled with pleasure. Her nipples poked through the thin blouse, pointed and proud. Nobody could possibly miss the two examples of her arousal if they gave this tall, striking woman so much as a glance. Pride and hunger swirled through his veins. He lured that reaction from her body. What else could he do? The challenge spurred his pulse on.
He asked for a pair of tickets to some action flick, giving the choice only enough thought that the sound effects might hide some of his planned activities.
Once inside, he placed his hand around her hip and pulled her close to his side. The Friday night crowd made it easy to keep her near, rub his thigh against hers and maintain her awareness of his body. At the concession stand, he ordered popcorn and a large Icee. Bernie remained silent. Was she looking forward to the close, dark confines of their seats or afraid of what he might ask of her? It made little difference.
At the door to the auditorium, she paused.
“What is it?”
“I need to visit the ladies.”
Liam nodded, noticed the location and replied, “Of course. I’ll grab our seats. I’ll be at the top.”
* * * *
Bernie leaned against the counter in the restroom and stared at the ceiling. The air from the A/C unit cooled her flesh and calmed her nerves. In here, away from all the people, she could think—almost. Her pulse still hammered in her ears. Her skin rose in bumps all across her body. Between her thighs, slick, hot evidence of her need reminded her this was not over. Did she want it to be?
All the films must have started, she realized, as the restroom remained deserted. A few minutes ago somebody came in to clean, smiling at the lady who stood frozen by the sinks. That’s me, Bernie thought. Like a deer in the headlights, unable to conceive of what might happen next. She wanted to find out, and yet knew that following Mr. Clarke in this sexual escapade, she was giving up some part of herself she never realized she possessed.
Was control over her body something she would miss?
In the restaurant, with his fingers planted inside her body, all she could think about were the sensations he could draw from her. Nothing else. She felt…
Bernie turned to look at the bank of mirrors. For that moment she had felt desired, wanted, a man hungered for…her. It made her feel beautiful.
Too tall, too fat, too loud, too bold Bernie Watkins had never been the belle of the ball. She looked down at her hands. Her nails shone under the bright, white light. She spent time taking care of her hands. Unlike the rest of her body, her fingers remained slim, long and shapely. The weekly manicures left her pleased with at least one small part of her…
“Hey.” His deep voice echoed in among the white tiles.
“Hey,” Bernie answered.
He stood by the entrance, his hands in his pockets and his eyebrows gathered in a frown. “What happened?”
She shook her head a bit. “I guess I lost my nerve. Can we go?”
“No. Not yet.”
Her knees wobbled. God, she wanted this man. She didn’t understand this electric response.
“You said you wanted me to fuck you.” He allowed the door to the restroom to swing shut and walked toward her. “Didn’t you?” Green eyes speared into her soul, demanding an answer.
“Yes, I did.”
“Hands flat on the counter. Face the mirrors.”
Unable to resist, like a soldier she slapped her palms on the cold, white surface. She stared at his face, perhaps for the first time really studied it, even as her breathing felt trapped. Passing him on the street, Bernie figured he would appear almost pretty, with those soft, round cheeks and smile lines around his eyes. His mouth, however, told a different story.
Firm, strong lips flattened with concentration. A grin threatened to break the expression, tugging at his right cheek. He rose up on his toes…in anticipation, perhaps?
“Spread your legs.”
She shuffled her feet apart, the heels of her boots clacked on the tile.
“Wider.” He kicked at her ankles.
Her womb clenched. The stance left her unbalanced. She’d fall right over. Or…
His hand raised her skirt up to her hips. Cool air washed over her exposed ass.
The tink of a drop of water threatened to shatter her focus. She wanted his flesh on hers…hard.
He raised his left hand. She watched him stare at her ass in the mirror. Any trace of grin had vanished, replaced with sharp, graven angles of stress. What was he going to do?
The hand came down. She hissed at the sting of the slap. Her ch
eek burned, and then the sensation slid into her pussy. Hungry for more, her arms began to give way. What would it feel like—cold counters against her breasts, pressing against nipples that required attention.
“Push yourself back up, Miss Bernie. I am not done.”
She started a silent chant in her head. Please, please, please…for what she didn’t know. Oh ,yes she did.
