His finger slipped in and out, pressing up against my g-spot and receding, circling the entrance of my vagina, tracing the length of my labia and then plunging back inside. He was driving me wild; my hips were pulsing backward and forward and I wanted nothing more than to feel his hard cock inside me.
I raised myself up further on my knees and used my hand to guide his cock. The end of it glistened with pre-cum and I rubbed it gently against my engorged clit. Sensation seared through me and it was all I could do not to cry out. Then, with a grinding pressure, I pushed the end of his cock down between my labia until it was positioned at the entrance to my cunt.
His hands grasped my hips and he pushed me down onto him. I felt his cock powering up into me, stretching me wide, but I was so slick and wet that it glided easily and deeply on. I gasped and he caught my upper lip with his teeth, biting with just enough pressure to cause me pain. At the same time he pinched one nipple between finger and thumb. Electricity jolted through me, a trail of fire from my cunt to my nipple, from my clit and up through my chest, making me lightheaded. I threw my head back and he buried his face between my breasts.
The train rattled over the tracks and our hips moved together in unison; but I was oblivious to our location now. Our combined musks filled my nostrils and I could feel the pressure building up deep within me. His tight grasp round my waist kept me sliding up and down his shaft, each plunge deeper than the last one, each coursing through me with a sharper frisson.
Beneath my buttocks I felt his balls tightening with every thrust; his skin was burning mine and every touch felt like a branding. Deep within me the reaction reached a critical point and an explosion tore through me, shock waves billowing through every muscle and nerve fibre, a trail of searing pleasure ripping my body apart. At the same moment I felt his hot cum firing up into me as his hips spasmed against mine and he arched his back in the seat. A long, low groan was muffled between my breasts, even as my own whimper was drowned out by the noise of the train.
The moment stretched as time stood still for me, the waves of pleasure crushing and enveloping me, carrying me to another place. He hugged me tight to his chest, kissing my forehead, running a hand through my hair as the fury subsided, and I slumped against him, all my energy spent.
The train slowed down and stopped, and I looked around the carriage. The two teenagers had moved closer to one another and were staring at us with huge, surprised eyes. I winked at them as the carriage doors opened and they scurried out. A gaggle of girls clambered in, unsteady on their high heels and giggling drunkenly. They looked at us, raised a few eyebrows and made their way down to the far end of the carriage.
I turned my attention back to the boy. His hot cock had gone soft inside me and I could feel it slipping out, followed by a surge of his cum. He grimaced and I giggled. And I couldn’t resist kissing him, long and deep, like a drink of clear water after a storm.
“Now tell me your name,” he said.
“Lexie,” I whispered, smiling.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Tom.”
And then we did it again.
In fact, we did it plenty of times again. And not just on the Circle Line. I ended up going out with the guy for nearly three months before things went awry. And during all that time, we never did it in a bed. Only on the Underground. And it still makes me smile whenever I go on the Tube. And when the trains vibrate over the tracks, I get a special warm sensation deep within. Try it one day, and you’ll know what I mean.
A Long, Hot Hammer
By Sommer Marsden
The city is hotter than a motherfucker. No one told me that would be the case when they invited me out to work at the bakery. No one told me that my clothes would feel two sizes too small and my feet would sweat in my shoes and no amount of fanning myself would help.
I pushed through the swinging door of Nina’s Nibbles. “Hello?” It came out rough and scratchy. I had no idea I’d sound like I’d been lost in the desert for weeks. I cleared my throat, wished for a bottle of water and tried again. “Hello?”
“Hello? Coming!”
A startling deep male baritone. I had expected Nina. Not some…man. I pushed the stray hairs that had stuck to my sweaty cheeks back and tried to smooth it. After a moment of rogue curls springing back, I gave up. Who was I kidding? It was about 99 degrees out there and the city trapped the heat in a way nothing in the country did. It sat coiled and ready to spring at you in the concrete, the black macadam and the chrome on cars and buildings and public art. Art was not meant to fry you, but July in Baltimore would do that to a girl.
A very stupid girl from a lake town. Who was currently melting.
“Hey, there, I—whoa. Can I get you a water, sweetheart?”
He was big. Really big. Tall and broad with coal coloured hair and startling gray eyes. It all rushed through my mind as I risked a single glance at him. I couldn’t read his nametag and I shrugged it off, bristling at the word sweetheart but then realised my crankiness was due to the fact that I was partially cooked from the sun.
“Thank you, God, yes. Water,” I said.
I must have looked worse than expected. (My kingdom for a mirror!) The hulking man came around the counter and put the cool bottle in my hand. He took my elbow and led me rather chivalrously to a small wrought iron table and helped me sit.
“Hot out there, huh?”
I snorted, twisting off the cap of the bottle. “Like Satan’s assho - um, yes,” I finished weakly. I was blushing and the added heat in my cheeks wasn’t welcome.
“Satan’s what now?” he laughed. He was teasing me.
“Sorry for a moment I forgot I wasn’t on the farm cleaning lake trout.” I rolled my eyes. I feared I’d hear them dry and dusty in my eye sockets because all my moisture was gone.
He touched my shoulder. His hand was huge. “That’s right. You’re Jones. The girl from…”
“From Walter’s Lake. That’s me. Here to bake your pies and cakes and cookies. If I don’t expire first.”
“Doesn’t get this hot in the country?”
I shrugged again, downing more water. “It does but there’s less concrete and stone to hold it. Water to cool off in and trees to eat lunch under. More places to cool off and escape.”
“We have air conditioning,” he said, sitting in the other seat.
“Thank God.” I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and held my hand out. “Jones Monroe,” I said. “Formally and whatnot.”
His fingers curled around mine and I could feel his strength. The potential in those hands. There was a quicksilver flash of arousal that shimmered inside of me and then a short rush of fluid between my legs. I had been wrong….not all my moisture had dissipated.
“Clint Hammer,” he said.
“Hammer?” I cocked my head. “That can’t be real. That’s a wrestler name.”
He laughed and then he blushed. When he blushed, that small rush of fluid suddenly became a bit larger. I had to let go of his hand because my heart was beating too fast. I had to get a grip. I was here to work for the summer, not flirt with giant men who worked in the bakery.
“It’s true. I can’t run from my true name.”
“You know, in some cultures, me knowing your true name would give me great power over you.” I was teasing but he stopped and stared at me. Cocking his head gave him the appearance of a curious grizzly bear. The man really was huge.
“Did you want to have power over me?”
I froze, feeling very deer in the headlights. Dear God, what the fuck was I supposed to say to that? My body was telling me to go, go, go, my mind, the one that was here in the city to be cleared, was telling me to run.
I did neither. I cleared my throat, slugged back a huge gulp of water and managed to say, “So…Nina?”
He sat back, looking amused. “She turned her ankle pretty bad. So she asked me to work today but to bring you by when you showed up.”
“By? Um…where?”
“To her house. Whi
ch is by my house. When Donna gets here for the evening shift, I can clock out and take you home. To Nina, I mean.”
“I see. And I was supposed to stay in a local place but there was water damage from some fire.”
“Ah, The Anderson hotel. Yeah, that fire was pretty bad. Nina said you could stay with her, is that okay?” He stood and pointed back to the kitchen. “Dishes. Sorry…”
I stood, feeling a bit cooler now but also pretty fucking captivated by those blue eyes. They were pretty surreal.
You’re off men, Jones, stay away…My last boyfriend had given the word rat a new name. Todd had been the name and making me miserable had been the game.
“Hey, can I help you? My nerves are shot from the bus ride up. I’d love to…” I swirled my hands around, sure I looked deranged, but not caring. My attraction to him was creating some heavy duty anxiety. “Help.”
He waved me back behind the counter and I took a moment to eye up the pretty cupcakes, elephant ears, delicate lace cookies and croissants that appeared as big as my head. I touched the counter and felt the warmth from the in-case lights.
“So why are you here in the stifling city instead of sitting under one of the bucolic trees you mentioned?”
I shrugged. “Nina came up for her vacation and stopped in my mother’s bake shop, she found me. Asked me to come work here as sort of a life experience when my sophomore year let out for summer.”
“College right?” he asked, looking suddenly mortified.
I felt more heat in my cheeks and looked around the kitchen. “Yep. College. Don’t worry.” I chewed my lip. Why had I said that last bit?
He smiled at me and my knees felt like they might buckle. When he took three big steps up to me and pushed a lock of hair out of my face, I thought I saw a few spots in my vision. “Good, I want to be sure the things I’m thinking about you are legal.”
I licked my lips. Me? But yes, of course he meant me. He was talking to me. He was pushing another sweaty lock out of my face and the parts of me he wasn’t touching were singing grand opera.
“I’m legal,” I stammered.
Clint Hammer leaned in and I held my breath. “Good, Jones, that gives me great relief.”
I wasn’t thinking. I blame heat stroke. I grabbed the back of his head and threaded my finger in his thick coal coloured hair. I pressed my lips to his. He went rigid with surprise for an instant and then he pressed himself up against me. We stumbled back three steps and my ass hit the stainless steel sink. Clint’s fingers gripped my hips and his lips worked over mine. I felt the searing touch of his tongue and parted my lips fully so he could kiss me more deeply.
I had a fried brain. I was dehydrated! Something was wrong with me. And yet, I just kept kissing him, feeling the solid press of his thick cock to my leg where he was smashed flat against me. I wanted him. I wanted that. I wanted to part my thighs and have him take me up against the big shiny sink like a dirty movie. Instead, I pulled back to catch my breath.
“Dishes?”
“Yeah, right! Dishes.” He pushed his hands through his dense hair and grinned at me. The heat in my pelvis grew brighter when he did that. His teeth were white but slightly crooked, just imperfect enough to be sexy.
“Yes, dishes. We need to clean,” I sighed. But my hands were shaking and my body trembling as I washed the big bread sheet pans and the butter dishes. Finally, we were almost done, the smell of soap and baking bread filled my head.
I couldn’t shake the arousal. I couldn’t clear my thoughts of the kiss or the lust it had sparked. I could feel my heartbeat in my stomach and my pussy and my temples, the thick beat of blood and desire.
“Bathroom?” I gasped, desperate.
“Oh, shit. Right, I should have offered you that from the get-go. Jesus,” Clint said, shaking his head. “What an idiot I am.” He pointed and I took that sacred moment to admire his stellar biceps. “Down that short hall. It’s the door not marked Office.” Then he winked at me and I practically ran down the hall.
I pushed my hands to the stucco on either side of the tiny mirror and stared myself down. “Jones, you lunatic, you will not fuck around with the pretty coworker. You are heat stroked or possibly brain damaged, but you will not do this.”
I splashed cold water on my face and pulled my hair free of its tether. Running water-cooled fingers through the mess of curls, I got it back under control and created a loose knot at my nape. My own reflection showed a red-cheeked, wide-eyed, nervous girl. I smiled at her. “Fake it ‘til you make it, Jones,” I sighed.
Back in the kitchen, Clint had his back to me. His broad shoulders bunched and danced beneath his white bakery shirt. He had a single tattoo on the back of his arm and it was half hidden by the sleeve of his shirt. I couldn’t make it out despite standing there for what felt like hours to try and make it out.
“Everything okay?” he asked, making me jump.
“Lord! How did you know I was there?”
He turned, giving me a look that set my blood pressure to high and made the rest of my body flex greedily. I’d had no idea I was so sex starved until I got a gander at Clint.
“When you mainly work alone, you get the feel for when someone else enters your space.”
“Oh, so you’re all Obi Wan and whatnot?” I laughed.
He looked at me over his shoulder and my legs felt wobbly, except for what was between them. That part of me was eager to find out what was going on under those black and white work pants.
No fraternising with the other help. You’re here to bake! Bake! Not make time with tall dark and yummy.
“Star Wars? Really? Awesome.”
I shrugged and found my way to the neighbouring sink. “I have three brothers and they had to do something when they weren’t pitching hay or fixing fence posts. I can kick some serious ass in a light sabre battle too. My preferred colour is green.”
“Good choice,” he said over the hiss of water.
After a few minutes of companionable silence and soap bubbles he said, “If you just give me another minute or two I can take you.”
Goose bumps erupted along my forearms and my nipples pebbled hard in my thin bra. “What?” I whispered, my mouth going dry.
He caught the look and laughed. “Donna just texted. She’ll be here soon, she’s just a few minutes late. So in a minute I can take you…to Nina’s house.”
“Oh,” I chirped, forcing a laugh. “Right.”
Clint ate up the space between us in three big steps. His trainers barely made a sound on the impeccably clean linoleum. “Unless…you had something else in mind, Jones.”
I shook my head no when I really wanted to nod like one of those infernal bobbleheads you see on car dashboards.
“I…no.” I tried not to let him see that I was holding my breath.
“You know, I thought the summer was looking pretty boring. Until now.” He pushed another rogue curl back off my head and kissed my forehead. It was an insanely chaste gesture and yet, it turned me on so much my panties were sopping wet where they touched my opening.
I was a pervert.
Donna was a nice person. She scared me at first. Towering over my five eight frame by a good three inches. Plus she wore lace up sneakers that kissed her kneecaps they were so tall. Her black hair was teased within an inch of its life and her makeup was intense to say the least. She had a pierced lip and a tattoo that said Bad Ass Baby Doll. But when she smiled her entire face and demeanour shifted and she was welcoming.
Her tattoo reminded me that I never had figured out Clint’s ink. Maybe I could…
I shook my head without finishing that thought. I knew it would end with “get him naked and see what it was.”
“Welcome to the ninth circle of hell, Jones,” Donna said. “Hot enough for ya?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “It is a bit warm.”
“Wait till you come in for the early shift and those ovens are going full blast. Jesus wept.” The girl wiped the counter and stocked the
cupcake display.
While I waited, three different families came in for their evening sweets and most seemed to know Donna. Repeat business was good. My mom’s store ran on repeat business and regulars. I’d be getting to know a lot of folks, it seemed. Clint came out with his backpack and grabbed my bags from where we’d stashed them. “Ready, Jones?”
“Yes, I can - ” I reached for my bags and he shook his head.
“I’ve got them.”
“But…”
“Let me be chivalrous, woman. Let me make a good impression.” He winked at me and I nodded dumbly, shouldering my purse.
“Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate - everything.”
He grinned again. “This way.”
In his car, I felt a little calmer. This would be okay. The city was big and it was hot and everywhere I looked I saw concrete or brick or steaming macadam, but it was fine. I’d been in cities before. No need to have a panic attack.
His big hand fell upon my thigh and he patted me. “You okay? You look a little stunned.”
“I am a little stunned,” I admitted, staring at his hand on my leg. I focused and hard and willed him to move it higher and then higher still. I knew that if he fucked me, I’d feel better. But I didn’t want him to think I was using him to get off, because I really liked him. Already.
“Weird.”
He squeezed and I blinked. “What’s weird?”
“Did I say that out loud?”
He chuckled. He fit the key in the ignition but didn’t turn it. “Yes, ma’am. What’s weird?”
“You make me feel…okay,” I said. And then I bit my lip. That almost sounded like an insult.
“Okay?” He leaned in and I saw just a bit of his tattoo peeking from the back of his right arm. When he squeezed my leg again it danced.
“Good,” I whispered.
“I like good. Good is better.” His lips brushed over mine, so soft, so barely there I shivered.
“Good is great,” I sighed.
Then his hand did go higher. Just a bit. Just enough to make me gasp and move my hips invitingly. I wanted to grab his hand and shove it to my sex. I wanted to force his broad fingers and warm palm to cup the swell of my pussy. Ultimately I wanted his fingers fitting into my opening and parting me. And then more of him. The hardest, manliest part of him, pushing into my willing cunt and making me…
Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica) Page 19
