Mister Prick

by Scott Hildreth

  I pushed half the length inside of her.

  The breath shot from her lungs. “Oh God.”

  I glanced between her legs. “That’s half of it.”

  “Half?”

  “Half.”

  “Give me the rest,” she said. “Slow.”

  I did as she asked. As the tip bottomed out, she arched her back and let out a wail. “Holy crap that feels good.”

  I’d told her I was going to get ahold of her hips and fuck her senseless. I hated to lie to her, but keeping my hands off her butt was going to be impossible. After gripping the cheeks of her ass in each of my hands, I spread it as wide as I could and began to fuck her for all I was worth.

  The sound of my hips slapping against her ass echoed throughout the interior of the vehicle. The feeling of being inside a woman was overwhelming, much more so than I ever would have imagined.

  For me, sex wasn’t something I was able to enjoy on a whim. There were simply too many risks involved. I had no idea what convinced me to take the risk with Jess, but at that moment, I was pleased I’d done so.

  I leaned over and pressed my chest against her back as I continued to slide in and out of her tight hole methodically.

  “Fuck this feels good,” I breathed.

  “Uh huh,” she grunted. “I’m uhhm. I’m going to…”

  Her pussy clenched my cock like a vise. The feeling was magical. I’d told myself I was going to fuck Jess and that was it. It would be the beginning and the end of our sexual relationship. Now that I was balls deep in glorious twat, had no idea how I could ever walk away from her.

  It had been years since I’d been in a relationship – or had sex – but I had my reasons for refraining from both. Mentally committing to fuck her was a huge step for me. Giving any more of myself than that was a risk I hadn’t been willing to take since my placement in the program.

  Yet. At that moment, I could think of nothing else.

  She arched her back and yanked against the cargo cover as an orgasm took control of her. The two or three strokes I took while she was lost in sexual ecstasy were all that I could handle. With reluctance, but to keep my word, I retracted my hips, crouched behind her, and buried my face between her legs.

  “Holy shit, Vince. I can’t…” she pleaded.

  I pressed my thumbs against the inside of her ass cheeks, spreading her pussy open wide enough for me to tongue-fuck her into oblivion.

  I flicked my tongue against her clit a few times, and then buried it deep inside of her. Lost in the thought of satisfying her to no end, I continued to tongue bang her until her legs went weak.

  As she howled her satisfaction out into the afternoon’s silence, I pulled her ass against my face firm, forcing my tongue deeper into her. The click click sound of her repositioning her heels on the asphalt gave warning of her spreading her legs a little wider. With her wider stance, my face went deeper yet, bringing with it a new measure of satisfaction.

  For me, bringing a woman to climax by licking her pussy was better than having an orgasm.

  She continued to wail as she had repeated orgasms, each one a few seconds from the other. When her knees gave out, I stopped, and lifted her into the back of the SUV.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I can’t…I can’t stand up,” she stammered. “My legs went all wonky.”

  “That’s what I wanted.”

  She looked at me like she had no idea who I was. “Where did you come from?”’

  “Huh?

  “Jesus, Mister. You’re like a dream come true. I just. Holy crap. You can lick a pussy, can’t you?”

  Standing behind the car with my jeans around my knees, I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. “I like it.”

  Curled into a ball in the cargo area of the SUV, she looked me over. “Take off your shirt.”

  I did as she asked.

  She stretched herself lengthwise, and rolled onto her back. With her head hanging out of the back of the vehicle, she looked up and me and smiled. “My turn,” She licked her lips. “Fuck my mouth. Hard.”

  I exhaled heavily. “Seriously?”

  “Just. If I tap your leg, let me take a breath,” she said with a laugh. “Other than that, I’m good to go.”

  “Just remember,” I said as I guided my cock into her mouth. “You asked for it.”

  She wrapped her lips around the shaft, and then winked.

  Seeing that level of attitude from a woman wasn’t something I was used to, and I liked it. Her confidence, playful nature, and ability to be herself in my presence was reassuring. Jess was different, there was no doubt about it. She’d already proven it when we encountered Marty, and she was further reassuring me with each passing moment.

  I began to slowly work my shaft in and out of her mouth. It felt heavenly having her lips wrapped around my cock, and whatever she was doing with her tongue was driving me crazy. After a few strokes, my breathing became labored, warning me that the end was near.

  I don’t know if she realized I was on the verge of climax, or if she simply got bored with the predictable movement of my hips, but she stretched her arms out, grabbed my ass in her hands, and pulled my hips against her face. I gasped at the sight of my entire length disappearing into her throat.

  “Holy shit.” I gazed down at her cock-filled mouth. “That feels so fucking good.”

  She held my cock deep in her throat for several seconds, and then tapped her hand against my leg playfully.

  I pulled myself from her mouth and gazed down at her in amazement.

  She sucked a breath and grinned. “Again.”

  Then, she repeated the magnificent act.

  I arched my back.

  My scrotum tightened. My jaw clenched. Two years of tension, sexual frustration, and work-related agony balled up inside of me, expanded, and then exploded.

  While the cum drained from the tip of my throbbing cock, her eyes smiled.

  Mentally weakened by an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced, I smiled in return. “You’re fucking amazing.”

  At that moment, I knew very little. One thing that was crystal clear, however, was that I needed to find a way to include Jess in my life without jeopardizing who I created and what I built.

  Finding a way to do so, however, would require a miracle.

  9

  Jessica

  With legs incapable of doing much more than holding me up, I stumbled toward the front of the car while Vince walked around the other side.

  “I feel like your cock is still in my chest.”

  “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

  “Good.” I braced myself against the side of the vehicle. “I mean. It beats the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  “You having a little dick.”

  “I was cursed, that’s for sure.”

  I reached for the door handle. “Blessed is more like it.”

  I heard his door open and then close. After letting out a long breath, I opened the door and climbed inside. “I might have to take the rest of the day off.”

  “Why’s that?”

  I looked at my shaking knees and chuckled. “I can’t fucking walk for starters.”

  “Is it that bad? The size?”

  His cock was huge, no doubt. But, it was perfect. So much so that I feared he ruined me from ever enjoying being fucked by anyone other than him. I’d undoubtedly compare every other cock in my life to his. Never having him fuck me again wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

  “No. It’s good. I just. I’m out of practice.” I pulled the door closed and then looked at him. “If we could keep doing this, I’m sure my pussy would be in great shape in no time.”

  “I might agree to that.”

  “I think I could manage to make time for a few more sessions,” I said with a laugh. “Just a few, though.”

  “It might be that your pussy is too damned tight. Did you ever consider that you’ve got a small twat?”

  “I
hate that word.”

  “Twat?”

  “Yes. That and the c-word.”

  “C-word?”

  I sighed. “Cunt.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I hate that one, too.”

  “Did you like it, though? My twat. It wasn’t uncomfortable, was it?”

  “A tight pussy is a good pussy,” he said. “Yours is fabulous.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  He looked at his watch. “We’ve got eleven minutes. What do you want to do?”

  “Take a nap?”

  “Coffee? Taco? Back to work?”

  “I might call it a day.”

  “Can you do that?”

  I could barely walk, but I expected that would change in a short time. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep from daydreaming for the rest of the afternoon. My mind was wherever it typically drifted to after a really good fucking, and I doubted I’d be back to normal for a few hours.

  “I doubt I’ll be much good,” I said. “Let’s get a coffee, and I’ll call in sick.”

  He started the car. “Sick?”

  “My mind’s out in space somewhere. I can’t work.”

  “So’s mine,” he said with a laugh. “I think you sucked my brains out the tip of my dick.”

  “I heard when a man comes that his IQ drops like 100 points. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but that’s what someone told me.”

  He laughed as he reached for the gear shifter. “I don’t know about that, but when you sucked my cock my mind went blank.”

  I giggled. “I sucked you stupid.”

  He backed up, turned around, and then started driving toward the parking lot’s exit. “You sure did.”

  I gazed out the side window. Much to my surprise, the area didn’t look familiar at all. “Where are we?”

  “A couple blocks from your dealership. On Don Lee Place.”

  “Oh. I had no idea.”

  As he drove toward the coffee shop, I reclined the seat and relaxed. “How many vehicles do you have, anyway?”

  “Several,” he said. “I normally use this for other things. I was going to take it to be serviced this afternoon.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Business.”

  “Oh. In one of the industries you work in?” I asked in a sarcastic tone.

  “One of them, yes,” he said flatly.

  I decided whatever he used it for was none of my business, and decided to take the conversation somewhere friendly. “How many is several?” I asked. “You said you had several vehicles.”

  “Maybe ten. Give or take.”

  “You have ten cars? Where do you keep them?”

  “I’ve got three homes. There’s three or four at each house, excluding the motorcycles. Maybe twelve, total. I’d really have to think about it.”

  “Twelve cars?”

  He shrugged. “They each serve a purpose.”

  I was fascinated. “Like what?”

  “There’s a coffee shop up here, but it’s not a Starbucks. It’s got the best cold brew in the world. Mind trying it?”

  “Okay by me.”

  I glanced out the window. I was completely unfamiliar with the area, and found it unbelievable that we were a matter of blocks from my dealership. By the looks of the graffiti painted on the sides of the buildings, my guess was that I had no business ever trying to get acquainted with the neighborhood.

  We pulled into a place called Kettle Coffee and Tea, and walked inside. The mouth-watering aroma of fresh brewed coffee hit me like a freight train as soon as the door opened. I enjoyed the scenery of the quaint shop while he ordered, wondering the entire time why they weren’t located elsewhere. In a matter of seconds, we were both enjoying a cup of the best cold brewed coffee I’d ever tasted.

  “Oh my God,” I said. “This is heaven.”

  “Good, isn’t it?”

  “It’s spectacular. How’d you find this place?”

  “A customer introduced me to it.”

  “Tell him or her thank you.”

  “If I ever see him again, I will.”

  He held the front door for me, and stared at my ass as I walked past. My opinion of him had changed drastically in the past two days, and I wondered with a nickname like Mister Prick, how many people truly knew much about him. It seemed the more I learned about him, the easier it was to like him.

  I sipped my coffee as we walked across the lot, taking an admiring glance at him every few steps. Just as we reached the back of the car, he looked to the left, and then stopped in his tracks.

  “Get in the car, Jess,” he said in a demanding tone. “Don’t unlock the door for anyone but me. No matter what happens out here, you’ll be safe. The vehicle’s armored, and the glass is bullet proof.”

  Bullet proof?

  I spun around. “What’s going on?”

  Instead of responding, he tossed the key fob in my direction.

  I caught the keys and scanned the lot, trying to figure out what was wrong. Nothing looked out of place. But, something was wrong. Bad wrong. I wondered if Marty was coming for revenge.

  “Vince, what’s going on?” I stammered.

  He set his cup of coffee on the back bumper. “Now,” he said, his tone stern. “Lock the doors and keep the windows rolled up.”

  I fumbled with the key fob, and eventually got the door unlocked. Two Hispanic men got out of a Cadillac that was parked a few stalls over just as I hopped inside.

  Dressed in khaki colored slacks and short-sleeved button-down shirts, they looked like businessmen.

  Angry businessmen.

  I locked the doors. My heart raced. With no idea of what was going on, why I was locked inside a bullet proof Mercedes, or what was going to happen to Vince, fear washed over me as they approached.

  Vince adjusted his stance, spreading his feet apart slightly. His hands slowly raised half the distance to his chest, and his fingers curled toward his palms.

  I hadn’t realized it before, but being locked inside the vehicle with Vince outside, it was apparent just how soundproof the vehicle was. One of the two men was talking, and I couldn’t hear a single word.

  After what appeared to be a heated argument, the second man pulled a gun from the waist of his pants and pointed it at Vince.

  Oh my God.

  A wad of fear got tangled in my throat, all but blocking me from breathing. As I struggled to take a breath, Vince’s hands became a blur.

  Somehow, he snatched the gun from the man’s hands. Then, he planted his right foot against the man’s chest, kicking him to the ground.

  Holy shit!

  It happened in an instant, but the finesse of Vince’s movements told me it wasn’t the first time he’d done something of that nature.

  He then pointed the gun at the second man. The man’s eyes thinned. With the gun pointed at his head, he had no alternative but to lower himself to the parking lot beside his defeated friend.

  Facing away from me, Vince walked backward toward the SUV. Upon reaching it, he tapped his left hand against the glass while he pointed the gun at the two men with his right.

  I crawled into the driver’s seat and opened the door slightly.

  “Open the center console,” he said over his shoulder. “Hand me two pairs of handcuffs.”

  I opened the console.

  Inside, two pistols were secured to the sides of the compartment, each in a plastic holster. At the bottom of the console, there were bundles of hundred-dollar bills, a flashlight, a flip phone, and several pairs of handcuffs.

  I grabbed two pairs of handcuffs and placed them in his palm.

  “Anything else?”

  “This ought to do it.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Just a little hiccup.”

  It may have been a hiccup to him, but as far as I was concerned, it was a big deal. I wasn’t accustomed to being robbed at gunpoint while getting a cup of coffee. I’d been out with Vince twice, and both times included gun
s, money, and handcuffs.

  After handcuffing the men’s hands behind their backs, he positioned them alongside the Cadillac. He then searched their car, the trunk, and under the hood. He returned to the SUV with two canvas gym bags.

  I opened the door. “Is everything still okay?”

  He hopped inside, tossed the bags into the back seat, and opened the console. “I’ve got to make a quick call,” he said calmly. “I’ll need you to be quiet.”

  “Okay.”

  He grabbed the flip-phone, opened it, and pressed a few buttons. Then, he raised the phone to his ear.

  “This is Black. Thirty-four, twenty-two, nine, seven, nine. 119 E Grand. I’ve got two HM. I need them transported ASAP. I’m naked.”

  He glanced at the men, and then peered through the windshield. “Aside a late model Cadillac, silver in color. Latter thirties, tan slacks, short-sleeved shirts, one salmon, the other light blue. Be advised, Luis and Diego Ortiz. Repeat, Ortiz.”

  “Affirmative. ETA?”

  “Roger ten minutes. Black out.”

  He closed the phone and dropped it into the console.

  I guess I should have been mortified, but I wasn’t. I was a little scared, a little shocked, and a whole bunch of intrigued.

  “What in the fuck is going on?” I whispered.

  He exhaled a long breath and then looked at me. “Can I trust you?”

  “I let you in the car, didn’t I?”

  He cleared his throat. “Can I trust you?”

  “One hundred percent,” I said.

  His hazel eyes stared into mine for what seemed like an eternity. “I work for the government.”

  “Who’s government?”

  “Ours. The United States.”

  “Are you a police officer?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I coughed out a laugh. “What does that mean?”

  “I work for a faction of the CIA.”

  “Is your name Black?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Is your name Vince?”

  “Yes.”

  As my mind reeled to process what had happened, what was happening, and just who Vince might be, one of the men stood.

  “One of them’s getting up,” I shouted.