Candid Confessions – Bundle #2
(Episodes #5-8 of Candid Confessions)
By Daniella Divine
This story includes explicit sexual content, and is suitable for readers aged over 18 only. All characters in the story practice safe sex at all times, even if the details are not explicitly mentioned in specific scenes. This work of fiction is for adult readers who love red-hot romance books with sensual and exciting storylines. Enjoy!
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This work of fiction is an original romance by Daniella Divine. Smashwords Edition.
Copyright © Daniella Divine 2013. Published by Red-Hot Romance Books.
Table of Contents
1. Making Out With Marines
2. Riding With The Cowboy
3. Fun With a Fireman
4. Parting With The Pool Boys
Making Out With Marines
The atmosphere was hot, dark and sweaty. The music was loud, rhythmic and raw. And the mass of writing bodies that pressed together in a primal ritual of dance was fuelled by adrenaline, alcohol and a youthful love of life.
In other words, it was another good night at the club. I had been going there with my friends since I started college in Texas nearly a year earlier, and we always had an enjoyable time there. Thursday nights were good. Friday nights were great. And Saturday nights were fantastic. This was a Saturday night, and the club was hotter and more frantic than usual. I had hit the dance floor with my friends, but we got separated in the crush. I stood on tip-toe, trying to see where they had got to, but the crowd was too thick. And in any case, I needed to pee. The drinks I had knocked back earlier were having their natural effect. I headed off towards the restrooms, pushing my way through the heaving throng. It was difficult to find a way through, and I must have annoyed someone as I pushed past, because I felt a sudden shove in the back. I fell forward and was propelled directly into the person in front of me.
A guy.
He was knocked off balance for a moment, but he soon recovered and helped me back on my feet.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, raising his voice to be heard above the noise.
‘Yeah. Sorry about that. Someone pushed me.’
‘No problem. Hey, tell you what…you want to dance?’
Of course, there were lots of guys in the club, but this one seemed a bit special. He looked like he was descended from a Viking warrior, with bright blue eyes and long, flowing blonde hair. He noticed me ogling him and grinned back. Now, I know the correct thing for a nice girl to do in such circumstances is to look away and pretend I wasn’t really looking.
But I’m not a nice girl. I’m naughty. You see, my name is Angel deVries, and I’m a shameless sexaholic. So I gave him a smile in return.
‘Sure. I’d love to dance.’
See…who said picking up hot guys is hard? All you have to do is wear a low-cut top and jiggle your tits about. How hard can that be? As it turned out, this guy couldn’t dance any more than I could, but we all know that dancing in a club has little do with choreography, but a lot to do with sexual gyrations. Well, I gyrated as sexually as I could, and I could see that my new buddy was enjoying the view. He gave me as good as he got, with a few pelvic thrusts to spell out exactly what he had in mind.
‘I’m Chuck,’ he shouted in my ear during a slight lull in the thumping rhythm. ‘Good to meet you.’
‘Angel,’ I yelled back. ‘Good to meet you, too.’
The volume of the music cranked up again, making any further conversation pretty much impossible. But there is more than one way to communicate, and we were getting our messages across very nicely thank you by way of body language. We were pretty much dancing our way through the Karma Sutra and when our bodies touched, I felt a real buzz. Chuck was a real pro at the seduction routine, gradually getting closer and allowing our bodies to touch more and more. He kissed me – just a quick peck on the cheek to test the water first. And when I didn’t complain about that, he followed up with a proper smack on the lips. His hands were on my buttocks now, copping a quick feel – but that was just fine by me. I pressed myself against him and felt his erection pushing against my tummy. I ground my body against his, and he gave me a gentle thrust in return, making it very clear where he wanted to take things from here.
After a while, Chuck started backing out through the crowd, beckoning me to follow him. I thought he was taking me to the bar, but I soon found myself outside the club in the hot and humid summer air. It was late, nearly midnight, but the street lights and full moon made it lighter outside the club than inside. The fresh air hit my lungs, and it was good to breathe oxygen that wasn’t polluted by smoke and alcohol.
‘Too noisy and crowded in there,’ Chuck said. ‘It’s easier to talk out here. Anyway, I’ve got something I want to show you. Come and take a look…I think you’ll like it.’
He took me by the hand and we hurried along the street away from the club. I wondered if this was a good idea. There was no telling what kind of thugs we might bump into. I had six hundred dollars in my purse that I had drawn out earlier to pay for repairs to my car. I had meant to leave the cash in my room, but in the rush to get ready to go out, I had forgotten all about it. So now I felt like a walking ATM. I had a sudden fear that we would turn the corner and find a gang of thieves with knives waiting to rob us. But it turned out OK. This part of the city seemed to be relatively quiet. A couple of streets away, we turned into a well-lit parking lot. Chuck reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of keys. He pressed a key fob and there was a flash of lights and a thunk as his car responded.
‘Like it?’ Chuck asked. He strolled over to his car and opened the driver’s door. ‘This is my pride and joy.’
I nodded enthusiastically. I don’t know much about cars. As far as I’m concerned, the only important specification in a car is the amount of room in the back seat, but I kept that information to myself for the moment. Didn’t want to get him too excited. I could tell it was a Camaro – not new, but well looked after. The kind of car that guys think will impress a girl, but which we don’t really give a shit about. He had obviously spent a lot of money on it – you know, boy racer go-faster stripes and all that stuff. I pretended to be impressed.
‘Yeah, it’s cool! Can we go for a ride?’
Chuck was grinning like a Cheshire cat who has seen a big pot of cream in the fridge and thinks he might get his paws in it. ‘Of course. I’ll take you for a spin.’
He opened the passenger door and I got in. Chuck started up the engine and revved it excessively, just to show off. Honestly, do guys really think we give a crap about how much noise their engine makes? I guess it’s kind of a macho thing – you know, the size of your engine indicates the size of your dick. (In case you’re wondering, girls, my experience tells me they rarely match up. So if you get picked up by some bloke with a six-litre V8 engine, be prepared to be disappointed. I have been.)
After scaring the crap out of the birds roosting in the nearby trees, Chuck put the car into gear and screeched out of the parking lot. I put my purse on the dash, double checked that my seatbelt was fastened tight, and hung on for grim life. Chuck headed out of town, revving like crazy at the stop lights, and generally being a young hoodlum. I was amazed that we didn’t get pulled over by the cops, but somehow we made it out of town. It was a fun ride. The night was dry and warm, and it was great to be alone with a good-looking guy.
I wasn’t particularly surprised when he pulled up at a beauty spot just a few
miles out of town. Of course, we couldn’t see much of the beauty, what with it being dark and everything. But we did get a good view of the city lights sparkling below us. Not that either of us gave a crap about the city lights. I knew perfectly well that Chuck had chosen this quiet spot for its privacy, not for the views. People who came here late at night generally got an eyeful of something more interesting than trees and grass. I slipped my seat belt off, and before I had a chance to say ‘isn’t it lovely here?’ I found Chuck’s tongue was half way down my throat.
Whoa! Fast was one thing, but this guy was like greased lightning. But seeing as I’m not exactly a virgin (hey, no laughing please – it’s not nice), I wasn’t about to complain. I gave him as good as he got, and we traded tongues while he made a grab for my boobs. Now if you’re the kind of girl who likes to be wined, dined and then seduced, Chuck is not your man. But if you’re OK with the ‘wham, bam, thank you Ma’am’ approach, then he is very suitable. At least you know where you stand with guys like him – or rather, where you lie down. At that moment I was leaning back in the passenger seat, but it was obvious that there would be a lot more room to lie down in the back, even in a Camaro. I thought we should try it out.
When Chuck stopped to draw breath, I slipped from under him and slid over the passenger seat into the back. It was a very smooth action because, well…I may have done it once or twice before. My man was right behind me, taking a swipe at my panties as I rolled over. Well, if he was that keen to get on with things, who was I to stop him? I sat on the back seat and stripped off until I was butt naked. Chuck was doing his Cheshire cat impression again.
‘Fuck, you look hot,’ he said. ‘You’ve got the best tits I’ve ever seen. I really want to fuck you.’
Like I said, Chuck was nothing if not direct. But I could see that his plan had potential, so I leaned over and pulled the zipper on his pants. I felt inside and pulled out a plum. Well, alright, not exactly a plum – but certainly a plum specimen of manhood. Well, there’s only one thing to do with a plum and that’s pop it in your mouth and enjoy it, so that’s exactly what I did.
Hmmm…nice. Very tasty. They say it’s important to have fresh fruit in your diet, so I would recommend you trying this kind of plum. It was even purple around the top, just like it should be, and it had a lovely texture. I rolled it around and explored all the angles. I took as much of it into my mouth as I could, and then I spat it out. And then I sucked it all in again. Chuck seemed to be enjoying the treatment as much as I was.
‘Angel, that’s good. I’m glad I met you at the club. You’re awesome.’
Awesome? We were just warming up. He had no idea what was about to happen to him. But I wasn’t going to let him get away without trying at least a little foreplay. I mean, a girl is entitled, isn’t she?’
‘Gmour tghhdd,’ I said. Then I remembered it’s rude to talk with your mouth full. I took his dick out of my mouth and tried again.
‘Your turn,’ I said. ‘I want you to lick my pussy.’
I couldn’t have got a better response if I’d told him I was going to give him a million dollars. Even in the half-darkness I could see him grinning like the Cheshire cat who was just about to plunge his tongue into that big pot of cream and lick it all out. Jeez, guys are so predictable. Cars, sport and pussy. It’s all they seem to care about. And not necessarily in that order. Chuck was on top of me before I even had a chance to get myself comfortably on my back. I spread my legs so that one foot was resting on the rear parcel shelf, and the other was hanging over the back of the drivers’ seat. There was no warm up. Chuck went straight for the heart of the action, sticking his head between my legs and ramming his face into my pussy. Well, it was a little rough, but raw and exciting, too. I loved the fact that he found me so irresistible, so desirable.
I could feel myself juicing up as his tongue licked along my cleft, exploring inside my labia and obviously liking what he found. The sensation was exciting, hormones pumping around my body like there was no tomorrow. And when he found my clit, I tipped right to the point of orgasm. It was almost too much, feeling his tongue stimulating me with surprisingly gentle licks. But after just a couple of minutes, Chuck pushed back on his knees and unbuckled his belt.
‘You are really turning me on,’ he said, at the risk of stating the obvious. ‘I’m going to have to fuck you now.’
Not exactly Casanova style, but I was OK with his approach. I mean, anything which resulted in me getting a good length of Viking inside me couldn’t be all bad, right? In fact, it was very good. Chuck didn’t bother with the time-wasting process of getting undressed. He just dropped his pants down as far as his knees and worked his dick up into an even harder hard-on with his right hand. All the time, his eyes were on me – enjoying seeing me spread-eagled like a teenage slut who knows a protein infusion is good for you. He obviously knew his way around a woman’s private parts, and he was inside me just as soon as his body was as horizontal as mine. And he didn’t bother with that start-slow-and-gradually-build-up-the-pace nonsense. Chuck just went at it like a steam-hammer that had got stuck in the ‘on’ position. All I could do was lie there and take it while he fucked the holy crap out of me.
Not that I was complaining. All that raping and pillaging must have done a lot for his Viking ancestors’ fucking muscles, and Chuck had inherited this very useful trait. He hammered into me so hard I thought I might split in two. But I didn’t. Instead, I relieved the tension by quivering my way to very physical and very enjoyable orgasm. And Chuck wasn’t far behind me. None of the fifteen-different-positions nonsense. He just fucked missionary style until he came like a Norse warrior storming the mainland.
And that was that. No pretense at lovey-dovey kissing and all that stuff. Chuck just climbed off me and pulled his pants up. ‘That was good,’ he said. ‘Wanna fuck again tomorrow?’
And they said chivalry was dead. I didn’t reply as I had other things on my mind. I remembered now that back at the club, I had been on my way to the restrooms when I had fallen (literally) for Chuck.
‘I need to pee,’ I said.
I know that would have killed the romance if there had been any, but there obviously wasn’t. Having got his leg over, Chuck seemed to have lost interest in me. Plain rude, I know, but now that the sexual tension was over, I realized that I was bursting to go. I wouldn’t be able to think straight until I had relieved myself.
‘I really need to pee,’ I said anxiously. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘You can go in the bushes over there. There’s no-one around.’
I peered into the gloom. The bushes didn’t look very inviting, but I was short of options and getting more desperate by the minute. It was either dash into the bushes or wet myself on Chuck’s back seat, and I didn’t think he would like that. So I climbed out of the car and checked to see that no-one was looking. I was stark naked after all, and I didn’t want any spectators. But we had the place to ourselves. I tip-toed across the gravel until I got to the bushes, and squatted down out of sight. And let rip. You know how it feels when you gotta go, but you can’t go for a while…and then when you do it feels so good? Almost as good as sex? Yeah, it was like that…such a relief.
But I didn’t feel so good a few seconds later…when I heard the engine of the Camaro start up.
What the fuck?
I was still in mid-pee, which as you know is an awkward situation to be in. Once you’ve started, it’s hard to stop. But I lost all interest in peeing when the Camaro reversed and did a 90-degree turn. What the hell was Chuck up to?
I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. The Camaro bucked forward and shot out of the parking lot like a rabbit with buckshot up its ass. I was left squatting in the bushes, stark naked.
Chuck was gone. And so were my clothes.
And my purse.
And my six hundred dollars.
Bastard.
***
I was screwed. Well, all right – I had just been screwed, but you know what I
mean.
I jumped up and hop-walked after the Camaro across the parking lot, bits of gravel and sharp stone sticking in my feet. I yelled after Chuck, but it was no use. He was gone, and it was pretty clear he wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. I wondered what the hell all that was about. Why did he take off? Then I figured it out.
While I was heading for the bushes, he must have seen my purse on the dash and taken a peek inside. Then he saw my six hundred bucks, just sitting there saying ‘please, please take me.’ So he did.
Bastard.
Well, I guess I shouldn’t have expected much more from a descendant of the Vikings. Talk about reverting to type. First of all, he almost raped me, and then he pillaged my stuff. (OK, I know that’s not fair on the Viking types. I’m sure most of them are lovely. But I sure was as pissed off as hell with Chuck.)
What the hell was I going to do now? I was out in the middle of nowhere with no money, no cell phone…and no clothes. Talk about a crap situation. But there was only one thing I could do right now.
I started walking.
***
That was not a fun night. If you have ever wondered what it is like to creep through a sleeping suburb wearing nothing but goose pimples, I can assure you it is not a lot of fun. I was convinced I was going to get picked up by the police, or raped by some horny, late-night dog walker. And even though it wasn’t a cold night, I was soon freezing my butt off. How the hell could Chuck do this to me?
Bastard.
To cut a long story short, I got home in the early hours of the morning, wearing a bath towel that I had ‘borrowed’ from someone’s back yard. It had been left out to dry on a chair next to the pool, and I managed to grab it without being arrested or attacked by savage dogs. I made a note of where the house was, so that I could return the towel later. Then I made my way home through the back streets.
Candid Confessions Bundle #2 Page 1
