Dirty Cowboy

by Alycia Taylor

  I was already on the verge of orgasm, I could feel it building. I didn’t want to come against his hand. I wanted his cock inside of me. I groaned and reached up to grasp his biceps and pull him down on top of me. He removed his fingers out of me and then he put his hands underneath my arms and pushed me up farther on the bed. He used one of his legs to push mine farther open and then I felt the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. I reached down and grasped it in my hand. I felt him shudder as I guided him inside me. Once the head had slid in he closed his eyes and just held it there for a moment. I wished I knew what he was thinking. I knew what I was thinking…it felt like a perfect fit. He opened his eyes and looked at me before slowly advancing the rest of himself until I was completely full. Then he slid back until it was right on the verge of falling out before plunging back in and hitting bottom. It was my turn to grab a handful of ass and as he moved his hips skillfully in and out, I held on. It was less than a minute before the orgasm that had been building tore through me. I cried out and I thought I may have dug my fingernails into his ass.

  He moved slowly, then, until my body stopped shaking and when it did I felt his pace quickening again. He leaned down and kissed me and sucked on my lips and tongue as his cock drove into me faster and more urgently. I could tell he was getting close so I arched my back and held my hips up off the bed to allow him better access. He took it a step further by lifting first one of my legs and then the other and laying them on his shoulders. He pounded into me, then, so deeply that the sound of our flesh slapping together was the loudest thing in the room. I felt like my pussy was on fire when his cock stiffened and his muscles tensed and then he let out a deep groan and all at once his body fell limply on top of mine.

  After a few seconds he said, “Can you breathe?”

  “No,” I whispered. “But I don’t care.” He laughed and rolled over.

  I felt him fall out of me and then watched as he rolled off the full condom and leaned off the side of the bed, tossing it into a can near the nightstand. He rolled back toward me and collapsed back on the bed once again. We lay there quietly for a while, getting our breathing under control and listening to the beating of our own hearts. After some time I felt him reach over and drape his arm across my belly and around my waist. I thought he was pulling me to him for a cuddle, but boy was I wrong. He flipped me over with one hand and then wiggled himself down so that his face was underneath me. He stuck out his tongue and pressed it flat against my clit. I pulled my knees up against my sides so that he could reach it better. He played with my clit and it felt so good that I wanted to scream. He was moving his tongue in circles but not lifting it up off me at all. The entire time that he wiggled it back and forth, he was pressing down on it as well. He had me driven into a state of frenzy, one where nothing else mattered besides pure pleasure. I was so excited that he had to hold on to my hips to keep me from pulling away. It was the kind of pleasure that was so intense it was almost too much to stand.

  He did that for a few minutes before at last releasing the pressure on my clit and sliding his tongue all the way down my slit from top to bottom. His face was buried up against me and he shoved his tongue up inside me and that time I did scream, and my body experienced the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. While I was still limp and shaking, he rolled me off him and then wiggled us around so that he had my writhing, sweaty body wrapped up in his arms.

  When I could finally speak again I said, “That was…Oh my God! I have no words for it!”

  I felt his body give a little shake. His face was buried in my hair and I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. I was so satiated and comfortable I had to physically shake myself to keep from falling asleep.

  He pulled his face back, then, and laughed. “What was that?” he said.

  “I don’t want to fall asleep and be here naked and make a bad impression if your sister comes home.” He laughed again and pulled me tighter up against him. After a while his breathing was so deep and so even that I was afraid he had fallen asleep. “Paul?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you asleep?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  “I should put my clothes in the dryer before someone comes home.” I felt him nod against me but he didn’t loosen his grip at all. Another five or ten minutes passed and I said, “Paul?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you going to let me up so I can put my clothes in the dryer?” I felt him push against the back of my leg, then, his cock was hard as a rock again.

  “I’d rather not,” he said. Then he rolled back and rolled me over so I was facing him. He kissed me again, but this one was different. It wasn’t passionate or hungry, it was soft and sweet and I loved it. “Go put your clothes in the dryer,” he said.

  I slid my lips from his down to his neck and kissed him. He groaned as I found a sweet little spot to nibble on. I sucked a piece of it into my mouth and as I held it softly between my teeth I flicked my tongue quickly back and forth against it. After a minute or two of that, I slid my lips down a little farther and dragged them across his chest, pausing to flick each nipple with my tongue. His nipples were as erect as mine were and when I licked them, he shivered and groaned. Then as I made my way down to his hard abs he said in a deep, husky voice,

  “I thought you were going to put your clothes in the dryer.”

  “In a minute…or two…” I told him just before my lips reached his cock.

  “Oh fuck!” I felt the muscles in his thighs get hard as I held on to them and engulfed the head of his cock. I ran my tongue all around the rim of it and then I sucked on it…just the head. I could tell by the sounds he was making that he liked it and that made me happy. After a second I began to take the shaft in a little at a time, teasing him still with my tongue as I went along until he couldn’t stand it any longer and he finally grabbed two handfuls of my hair and held my head in place while he thrust his hips up off the bed. As he bucked his hips, I sucked and ran my tongue up and down the length of his cock, feeling the bulging veins along the sides and delighting in the fact that I had done this to him…twice in one day.

  I pushed myself up on my knees so that I was straddling his legs and he was trapped. Then I opened my mouth as wide as I could and I helped myself to all of him, sucking as hard as I could once I felt him hit the back of my throat. His fingers were still tugging at my hair and I could even feel them digging into my scalp. I pulled my head up and lunged down harder and then I did it again…and again until he was crying out, “Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh, baby! I’m coming, Jessie, fuck, baby!” He tried to pull me off him but I felt him grow and swell and I didn’t want to ruin it for him. I’d never done this before, but I’d never been so determined to make a man feel good in my life. I nursed him through it, not taking my lips off until he was completely empty. When he finally relaxed I lifted my head up and looked at him. His blue eyes were wide and he had an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite read. I didn’t need to, though, because a few seconds later he pulled me back up on top of him and kissed me until no words were necessary.

  Chapter Seven

  Paul got in the shower while I put my clothes in the dryer and then I got in when he got out. The easy, playful feeling that had been between us just before and just after we slept together was gone and had been replaced with a somewhat awkward silence. I guess that’s the problem with sleeping with someone you hardly know, you’re left with so many questions. When my clothes were dry I put them on and he said,

  “My nephew will be home in about an hour. Do you want me to drive you home, or back to the gym?”

  I didn’t really want to be seen back at the gym looking like I just took a shower. I loved my friends, but the second they saw me getting out of Paul’s truck in the condition I was in, the rumors would begin to fly. “My apartment is fine. I’ll call one of the girls for a ride to work tomorrow. We’re probably just going to be doing clean-up all day anyways.”

  Once we were in the
truck I told him how to get to my apartment and then we drove in silence again. I sat wondering what that day meant…if anything, and where we were going to go from there…if anywhere. I also wished that I knew what he was thinking. Was he sorry that we’d had sex? Did he regret having sex with me knowing that he’d have to see me nearly every day while he was at the gym working out? I wasn’t as brave as I’d been earlier…I couldn’t bring myself to ask him. Maybe it was because I was worried about what the answer would be. Maybe he was the love ’em and leave ’em type. Maybe he had a lot of sex with a lot of women with no intentions of ever getting into a relationship. Maybe if I asked him if we were in some kind of “relationship”, he was going to think I was desperate and ridiculous. The worst part was that then I’d still have to look at him every day and hope that he didn’t tell anyone else.

  I just couldn’t turn off my head and all of the questions. Why isn’t this gorgeous man in a relationship at twenty-six years old? Wouldn’t that in itself have been an indication to me before I went and slept with him that he either doesn’t believe in relationships or he’s such a wrecked, troubled person that no woman can stand him long enough? I mean, I don’t even know this guy, really. What I do know about him is that he’s angry a lot and he likes to fight. I don’t only know the bad things, though. I know that he takes care of his sister and his nephew too. I wish I only knew the good or the bad at this point. Knowing both only complicated things, for me anyways. A “normal” person might not have all this angst. Relationships were not my strong suit. I’m attracted like a magnet to men who had problems. I honestly don’t go into the relationship thinking I’m going to “fix” him, but once I’m in it and I find out he’s broken, I have a hard time walking away. That would even be okay if I had a history of any luck “fixing them.” We both just end up broken by the time it finally ends.

  Maybe when Yolanda picks me up for work in the morning I should talk to her about it. First of all, I should find out if he’s a player. Has he already slept with all the single women at the gym? Second, I need someone to help me decide whether or not I’m attracted to this guy because he has problems. My last relationship was fraught with enough problems to last a lifetime. I just don’t want to do that again.

  When we got to my apartment I expected him to leave the truck running and let me jump out. Instead, he shut off the truck and got out and walked me to the door. It was things like that that confused me. He hardly talked, yet when he did he was articulate and usually polite. He was a wild man in the cage but in bed that day he’d been sweet and gentle and attentive…

  “Do you need a ride to work tomorrow? I wouldn’t mind picking you up—”

  “No!” Dang it! I said that too fast. It was rude. “I mean, no, thank you. Yolanda and I have some things we need to talk about so I think I’ll just ask her. She won’t mind.”

  “All right, I guess I’ll see you later,” he said. It was awkward and uncomfortable. Was I supposed to kiss him? Was he going to kiss me?

  “Okay, thanks.” For the ride? The sex?

  “Yeah, you too.” Me too what?

  I unlocked my door and turned to watch him leave before going inside. Once I was in I closed the door and leaned up against it. Damn! What did I get myself into?

  I went over and took out my laptop. I signed into my You Tube account and typed in MMA and Paul Delport. There were a lot of videos going back to 2009. I clicked on one of the most recent ones and watched it. He was incredible. He was so fast that his opponent needed a lot of luck just to be able to catch up with him and connect a punch. I watched another one and found myself in awe of the power behind his punches and his kicks. There was no throwing it here and there and hoping it landed. Every punch and every kick was perfectly timed and infused with power and control. I was completely surprised at myself for finding it so sexy. Truth be told, so far I hadn’t found anything about him that I didn’t find sexy.

  I shut off the videos and sat there thinking about our afternoon together. Maybe we only had sex because I’d basically thrown myself at him. “Go with your impulses,” I had said. Could I really blame our time together that day on him being a player? It didn’t seem like he’d been trying to lure me back to his place for sex. When he had gone with his impulses like I’d told him to, his touches had been so far removed from what I watched him do in the cages last night and what I’d seen him do in these videos. He was still great at it and experienced without a doubt, but there was no hint of anger or aggression or control there. He was a true enigma and I hated to admit it, but that made me want him even more.

  I forced myself to try and think about something else. I finally had a day off and my paycheck should have gone into the bank that day. I picked up my phone and googled “washing machine repair.” I got like two million hits in the city. I blindly picked one and called him.

  “Hal’s appliance repair.”

  “Hi, I have a washing machine that I need to have fixed.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” the guy on the other end asked me.

  I laughed and said, “Well, I was hoping you could tell me.”

  He laughed too and said, “Yeah, you would think, right?” He laughed again and said, “I meant to ask what is it doing, or not doing?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry. It doesn’t agitate or spin at all. It just fills up with water and then just sits there. I had to bail the water out with a pot because it was just sitting there and starting to smell.”

  “Okay, I have a few ideas,” he said. I hoped they were inexpensive ideas. “I can come by around three today if someone is going to be there.”

  “Three is good. Thanks!”

  I hung up after giving him my address and my thoughts instantly returned to Paul. I was sure he had problems…he had to. He told me about his sister and how she’d done some of what she did just because she was rebellious. He told me himself…at least he hinted at the fact that he didn’t have a good relationship with his dad. That’s usually a good clue, the parental relationship. My last boyfriend hated his mother. I found out late it was because she was a religious fanatic and she used to constantly tell him that he was going to hell every time he did something wrong. I felt bad for him when I found that out and I realized that was probably the source of his problem. He was an alcoholic. He was twenty-seven years old and had health problems like a fifty-year-old because of it. He was in and out of trouble because of it and I had to drive us everywhere we went toward the end because he had so many DUIs that they took his license away.

  I’d done everything I could think of to get him into a program. I’d researched alcoholism and I’d shared my knowledge with him. I’d researched programs and I’d shared that knowledge with him as well. He wasn’t open to hearing any of it and once I finally decided that if he wasn’t going to go into a program or even AA, I wasn’t going to continue to do all the things I was doing for him, the fight was on. He didn’t go away, that would have been too easy. He was on my doorstep, at my work, on my phone…crying and begging and then accusing and cussing and then crying and begging again. It nearly drove me to drink before he finally got arrested for driving his sister’s car drunk and getting into a fender bender. Thank God he didn’t hurt or kill anyone, but since his blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit and he was driving on a suspended license with three prior offenses, he’d gotten jail time. The phone calls finally stopped only after I called the jail and told them he was harassing me. I don’t think I have the strength or resolve to handle another relationship like that.

  I headed into the kitchen to fix some lunch. I’d all but decided that I needed to end it with Paul now before we got to the point where I found out what was wrong with him and resolved to fix it. I knew myself too well to let it go that far. Before I made it into the kitchen, there was a knock on my door. I looked at the time. It was way too early to be the washing machine guy. I wondered if it was Paul. He’d only left ten or fifteen minutes ago. Maybe he was doing as much thinking as me and coming
back to tell me what conclusion he’d come to.

  I went out to answer the door telling myself that I was going to end it that day, once and for all. I pulled open the door and felt my heart drop into my stomach. It wasn’t Paul on my doorstep. It was Mitch.

  PULSE TWO

  Chapter One

  I stood there for a few seconds trying to recover from expecting Paul but finding Mitch on my doorstep. He was so damned big that he actually blocked out the sunlight. I finally recovered but it was a few seconds too long I found out. I didn’t even speak; I just tried to close the door. Mitch outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds so it was no contest. I pushed, he pushed back…I was lucky I didn’t end up on my ass. He ended up in my living room.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I went to grab my phone and he said, “Wait!” I already had the nine and the first one pressed in before he ripped the phone from my hand. My next plan of action was going to be screaming…which I’ve never done before, but what else was I going to do? This man was obviously a maniac judging by the way he’d barged in here. I started to scream for help. “Wait!” he yelled again in his deep, booming voice. “I’m a cop. Just calm down for a second and I’ll show you my ID.”