Hot Rocket

by Stowe, Dani

  She gasps as I fist her hair and push my whole body against her, cramming her between me and the hard wall and my cock upright between her ass cheeks. Her skin on my skin—it makes me hot. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Foskett or any other dickhead when I’m about to fuck you hard. Because you want it hard, don’t you?”

  “Jet—”

  “Shut. Up.”

  “But I—”

  I fist her hair tighter. I’m so fucking furious with her wishy-washy bullshit. “Captain Keiko Matsuura, do you want to stay and take this or do you want to leave?”

  She bites her lip. I know she wants it. She wants the Badass but she’s so fucking hesitant. Maybe she’s scared. Maybe I just need to prep her better for what’s coming.

  I pull her ass towards me and push her head towards the wall where she leans the side of her face against it. I rub her round little ass with an open hand and I smack it!

  “Nnn, Jet,” she whines. I smack it again and she yelps. I keep smacking it until I feel like she’s near crying and its hot red, as fucking red rosy as I’m sure my facial cheeks are.

  I bend over to the side to inspect the prints I’ve made. Her ass cheek is so bright red it looks like it’s on fire and I notice the folds at her center. The lips are a dark pink. A darker pink than I remember and I check out her slit.

  “Huh.” I knew she wanted me—the Badass. She’s about to drip.

  I squat placing my knees outside of her ankles on the floor so I can ogle her pussy—shaved. Her lips are pressed tight together. I swear to God, the damn thing looks like it wants to speak. Those pussy lips want to say something to me like they’re hiding something and I pull her skinny jeans down a little lower on her thighs.

  “Jet, what are you doing?”

  “Will you shut up? I’m trying to have a conversation here.” I scold.

  She huffs and puts her forehead to the wall.

  I use my thumbs to spread her lips open and her pussy drools on the floor. My cock is so fucking hard. It’s as hard as the little nub that pops out from between her folds.

  Her clit is begging to talk dirty with my tongue.

  I lick it.

  The stroke of my tongue on her clit makes her hips buck and I smack her ass again.

  “Hey!” I grip her thighs, slide one hand between them, then grip her pants and pull her pussy back to my face. “Don’t fucking move.”

  “Jet,” she groans. “I have to talk to you.”

  Talk. We did all that talking for days a few months back and that didn’t do anything for me.

  “Baby,” I tell her as I grip my dick with one hand, “I have a long line of conversations I need to have before I can get to you.”

  “Hmph,” she grunts in frustration.

  I yank her pants at her thighs again and plunge my tongue between her folds. She moans as I slide my tongue around between her lips until I find her clit and I manage to munch down on it with my front teeth then grind it with my tongue.

  “Oh fuck,” she groans and I pump myself. I fist my length and eat her pussy until I feel her nub contract.

  I pull my face away, wet and dripping. “You gonna come for me, Captain?”

  “Don’t stop, Jet,” she begs.

  “Who’s your superior now?”

  “Jet, please.”

  I put my face back and continue to lap. God, she tastes so fucking good.

  I fist my length and grind her clit until her ass starts jiggling over my cheeks. Her whole body starts shaking and boom! She wails like a siren as she squirts on my face.

  Keiko is yelping as she drenches my cheeks, my nose, my mouth with the outpour of her orgasm and fuck me! I can’t hold back. I come in my palm.

  A stream of cum surges. It spritzes all over her pants and on the wall and floor.

  I lick up her slit before she pulls away to stand upright and pulls up her pants. I look up at her staring down at me. She looks disappointed.

  Shit!

  “I’m sorry.” I stand up tucking my length back into my pants and I attempt to caress her face and kiss her lips. She’s reluctant to kiss me back. “Did you not like that? Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to keep spanking you or not. I wasn’t sure if you wanted it—rough and hard, although I got the feeling you did and I couldn’t help myself.”

  “I did,” she gulps and rubs her hands over my chest. “I do want to try it rough and maybe harder but I miss the nice guy. I kinda need the nice guy in my life right now.”

  My insides burn. I can hear my heart pounding as I wipe my wet face with my forearm and zip up my fly then watch her pretty ass in tight jeans with no shirt climb into my bed.

  I could totally fuck her and come again.

  But. She just said she needs the nice guy right now.

  “Which nice guy are we talking about? Captain Foskett? Or the lowly airman who’s a liar and a spanker?” I cough. “Me?”

  “You.”

  I feel like I have wings as I fly to the bed and get on top of her, scooping her into my arms and nuzzling her neck. She laughs; she still does like the nice guy. I pull her body tight into me and hook my leg around her, too. “I missed you so much.”

  I’m afraid I sound like a whiny bitch, but I can’t help it. Every thought I’ve had about her just reveals itself. It’s like my soul has climaxed and I just can’t cease to stop the residual outpour. My eyes even start to water as I confess. “There’s not a day that has gone by that I didn’t think about you. I’ve been wondering where you were—if you were safe. I tried to stalk you online. I had no idea you were so close this whole time and I feel stupid for not even knowing who you are—smart, a pilot, and crazy beautiful, especially when everyone else does.”

  She pushes me off. “Jet,” she says my name again with what sounds like hesitation and it worries me as our eyes lock. “I have to take off.”

  It’s my turn to sigh and I feel sick. She sees it on my face.

  “Jet,” she smiles, “I mean I have to go work. Do you want to come with me? Hangout at the hangar?”

  Oh, thank God. I can’t help but exhale with utter relief. “Yes,” I say as I give her another squeeze and she squeezes me back with a genuine warm hug.

  In truth, I liked being the nice guy. I still want to be the nice guy for her when we’re not in bed and maybe I can get rough with her later. “Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?”

  “No,” she says sternly.

  “No?” I’m perplexed. “Since when did you stop drinking coffee? That’s unlike the girl I knew.”

  “Hmm,” she ponders, “since about a week ago.”

  “A week?”

  I get off the bed to pick up her clothes and hand them to her. “I would think you’d be pulling out your hair by now. If I recall, you said you’d ‘never’ give it up. Did you stop with the coffee cold turkey or—”

  “Cold turkey. Too much caffeine. And why are you so concerned?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I guess I’m going to miss our coffee dates.”

  “You know, Jet, the girl you knew—that was not the whole me.” Keiko reaches to pull her dog tags out of her skinny jeans pockets and puts the chain over her neck. The tags fall and jingle between her tits and Goddamn! I want to pounce on her right now but I bite a knuckle. I know I should be listening.

  “In all honesty,” she continues, “I think I’ve changed in just the few months we’ve been apart. Do you think you can handle that? Can you handle all of this? The whole me? The real me? Do you think you’ll be able to handle the parts you don’t know yet and maybe some changes that are still to come?”

  I walk into the kitchen and grab the handle to one mug because I still want a cup of coffee.

  “Baby, I already know the whole you. You’re a big dreamer. You think big and you like big things, so just wait until I handle you after I’ve had my fix of caffeine.”

  Chapter 8

  I don’t know why I came. We get to the hangar and I’m not even allowed to
hang out with Keiko. I call Vollmer and Bleau to pick me up because the girl, my girl, has a coordination brief, which lasts an hour, a suit-up with preflight check-in, another hour, and flight checks plus a taxi to the runway, which takes another half an hour, all before Keiko can even take off.

  But I did learn why Foskett referred to her as Mounds on the night of the ball. It’s her aviator call sign and fitting for a female in a flight suit—Almond Joy’s got nuts; Mounds don’t. When I was young I used to debate on what my own aviator call sign should be and it hits me. It really hits me...

  My girl is a fighter pilot.

  It’s strange. I don’t even want to say it out loud. It’s only been a weekend since I’ve gotten to know who Captain Keiko Matsuura really is. I should be happy, but when we finally watch her jet take off—the sound of the engines filling me with an immeasurable amount of excitement and pride, I notice I’m also a little uneasy about it. I’m not afraid that Keiko is up there in the sky in a warplane willing and ready to go to war for our country’s sake; it’s something else. It makes my cheeks hot.

  “You okay?” Shayna asks, with a mouthful of cheeseburger.

  We made a pit stop at Burger King and are now sitting around in the middle of a huge, dry, dirt field with only a few palm trees in sight near the runway having lunch. As my friends watch jets turn loops in the air, I’m having difficulty watching.

  “I’m okay,” I say, taking a swig of my Coca-Cola. “It’s just hot.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re all hot,” teases Shayna while Alani bounces with a giggle and rocks Bleau in her arms like he’s a damn baby. “You hit the jackpot with Captain Matsuura—sexy and smart,” Shayna continues. “I admit, I’m a little jealous. I kinda wish I was her. Don’t you wish you were her?” Shayna asks of Alani, who nods her head.

  “No way, Alani,” cries Bleau. “I like you just the way you are,” he tells her and gives her a smooch on the cheek.

  “Damn, Shayna,” whines Vollmer. “You have nothing to be jealous about. You’re sexy. You’re smart. If you weren’t, well....you wouldn’t be with me,” he jokes and Shayna punches him. “No, seriously baby,” he tells her, “I know we just met, but I’m so into you. You’re one sexy chick and I already know I’d jump fences for you.”

  Fences! This is why I’m feeling uneasy.

  I get up and start walking.

  “Hey man, where you going?” shouts Vollmer. “Look! They’re coming back.”

  I don’t want to look. I don’t want to see Keiko, who grew up with perfect parents and a perfect life, likely behind a perfectly white picket fence. I’ve been feeling shitty about lying to her in the beginning, but right now, I feel the impact of the truth she kept from me. I can’t believe I can’t put the feelings away. It’s like I’m that dumb kid who wanted a look at the stupid squirrel in the hands of the perfect girl-next-door. I just wanted a look...or maybe a sweet smile...or better yet, a new friend. But the second I knew Peyton didn’t trust me, I hurt her. And I didn’t throw a rock at her just because she didn’t trust me, it was because I was jealous.

  And now I’m damned jealous of my own girlfriend.

  No. Fucking. Fences. For. Me.

  She’s too good for me.

  “Look, man!” Vollmer cries out like a child. “She’s more badass than you!” he laughs as if the universe feels the need to give me confirmation of my epiphany.

  Still, I can’t help but take a look as I see Keiko’s jet is about to land on the runway.

  I never should’ve lied to her, nor should she have held the truth from me. This is the problem with Instalove. You feel so damn connected in the first few days of a romantic relationship, but it all goes to shit when you really get to know each other.

  I still don’t genuinely know her, but being with her has taught me more about myself. Not only do I know I’m not good enough for her, but I’m also fucking jealous of her, which means I’ll probably hurt her one day. There’s just no way I can allow that to happen.

  I keep walking as I watch the wheels of her aircraft touch down when the front of the aircraft takes a nosedive.

  Oh shit!

  My body ignites. “KEIIIIIIIKOOOOOOOOOOO!” I scream with a terrible ache that drills straight through my core, fueling my legs to start running towards Keiko’s aircraft as it starts sliding across the runway—her landing gear has collapsed.

  My blood feels like its boiling, trying to get a grip of what I’m seeing, as the jet continues to slide against the pavement with its nose against the ground and begins to smoke while sparks spurt.

  Ah, fuck!

  I can only hear two things—the scraping of heavy metal against the pavement and my breath cycling heavily in and out of my skull. My legs are trying to keep up with the insatiable need to push my body, which can’t seem to propel itself fast enough towards Keiko in the aircraft that has now slid off the runway, leaving small pieces of it behind, and into a dry, dirt field.

  I see about two dozen people running out of hangars, who I had no idea were even in there, scurrying toward Keiko’s smoking jet and—

  Flames!

  My legs are moving as swiftly as they can, but not fast enough. Dear God, I wish I could fly the way I did when I was a kid. I hear screaming and yelling from all directions as Airmen climb atop the jet, despite the small flame at the nose of the aircraft, and try to pull Keiko out, which thank God! They do.

  I’m relieved when I see an Airman pick Keiko up and carry her towards an approaching ambulance. I hear a horn blaring behind me and realize I’m in the middle of the runway as a fire truck screams past me. I follow it, still trying to pedal my heavy legs towards Keiko.

  When I get near her, she’s lying flat on the ground with her helmet off. A handful of people surround her as I try to push them aside but instead, I get shoved as the paramedics make their entrance onto the scene with their stretcher.

  “Get out of the way, everybody!” yells Foskett, who’s near Keiko and coaxing her with words of comfort as he strokes her hair.

  Everyone steps back and I figure I should, too, as the paramedics take a moment to question Keiko before quickly putting her on the stretcher.

  She’s not crying or trembling; rather, she looks calm as she reaches out to Foskett.

  Now, I know I don’t deserve her.

  She just got into an accident where she could’ve died, yet I’m more concerned about my own heart as it breaks.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Foskett says, gripping Keiko’s hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”

  “Jet.” She says my name and neither of them have noticed me among the small crowd.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll find him,” Foskett nods as the paramedics load Keiko into the ambulance.

  Once the doors shut and the ambulance takes off, I notice Airmen are gathering to figure out what happened and help with the scene. I should be helping as well but I’m stuck. I can’t move.

  “Jet!” calls Foskett and my eyes gravitate upwards to see his arms crossed and his face—red. “Were you just standing there this whole time?”

  I say nothing. I’m still stuck and he shakes his head in disgust.

  “You really are an asshole.”

  Chapter 9

  I’m an asshole.

  Dad always told me not to be an asshole. But here I am. A day late. And an asshole.

  “I’m sorry, but she’s not taking any visitors.” The nurse, sitting behind the counter in a stark white uniform, looks like something out of a retro comic book. Unlike the other nurses wearing colorful scrub tops and matching pants, her top is buttoned-up to a frilly collar and she carries a huge gray bun pinned to the top of her head that looks like a bird’s nest big enough to hold a pair of pigeons.

  I wave the flowers I’ve brought—a bouquet of island blooms: red Birds of Paradise mixed with mild, but sweetly scented, purple orchids. “Ma’am, is it possible to call her and let her know I’m here.”

  “She’s not taking any phone calls eit
her,” rattles the old woman and turns away to fumble with some papers as she keeps talking. “You see that wall of flowers over there?”

  I turn around and behind me is a long table loaded with vases and bouquets of flowers of all kinds backed by Get Well posters taped crookedly to the wall.

  “Yeah,” I swallow.

  “You can leave your flowers for Captain Matsuura over there.”

  I sigh. “Ma’am, please. Keiko and I have been seeing one another and I’m pretty confident I was about to hit ‘boyfriend’ status before her accident yesterday, so if you could just call and let her know that—”

  “Young man.” The nurse marches with a slight waddle straight towards me and leans over the counter. “The patient does not even want to see her parents. She’s requested peace and quiet between exams and tests. She went through something very traumatic and if you’re her booooyfriend,” the nurse slurs, “then you should’ve been here yesterday with the rest of the huge crowd of caring friends and kin.”

  I don’t know why I didn’t come yesterday. I couldn’t sleep a wink last night knowing Keiko was here at Tripler Army Medical Center.

  Vollmer was nice enough to call me in the middle of the night to let me know her unit reported she was okay. It was obvious Vollmer and Bleau were just as confused with my behavior as I was—not coming sooner to see Keiko. They didn’t look at or talk to me at work all day today and kept their distance.

  After Keiko was loaded into the ambulance, Foskett didn’t just yell at me, he dropped tears. The motherfucker was crying. I wasn’t even crying. Maybe I was in shock. Maybe I was still caught up in my jealousy. I don’t think so, but I had this overwhelming feeling that I should just stay out of the way. I also didn’t want to face Keiko knowing I was thinking about breaking off our relationship for the sake of her own good right before her plane crashed.

  I wish I could tell this nurse I stayed away to be helpful, so Keiko could get the immediate support of friends and family who deserved her. I’m just an envious asshole, covetous of a woman who is perfect in every way. Too perfect for me.