HOT as F*CK
Page 268
We walked to the door side by side, and Vince pulled against the handle. The door rattled, but didn’t open. He pulled against it again, rattling the windows of the storefront.
We both gazed through the tinted glass into the restaurant. Everything was in place, but it was obviously closed. It seemed odd on a Friday night that the restaurant would be closed, but that sure seemed to be the case.
I studied the sign positioned above the door, grabbed my phone, and Googled the name of the restaurant.
“Closed. Says it right here. All of his restaurants are closed, this one was the last, it closed just yesterday,” I said, pointing to the screen of my phone.
“Motherfucker!” he shouted as he kicked the frame of the door.
From the force of his kick, the glass door flexed inward terribly. As it bowed back outward, it opened.
“Oh my god,” I said as I glanced over each shoulder. “Did you break it?”
“No,” he said as he kicked it again playfully. “These aluminum framed doors are pieces of shit.”
He gripped the door frame in his hand and pointed to the latch, which was still in place. “The slightest flex in the frame and they open, it’s a bad design.”
“Oh,” I said, as I studied the door.
I turned to face him and shrugged my shoulders. “So now what?”
He pulled the door open and peered inside. A quick glance over his shoulders later, he stepped inside the vacant restaurant. “Come on.”
I gazed the length of the parking lot. The half a dozen or so shops, which included a nail salon, a gaming store, and a frozen yogurt shop, all had very little business. A few passing cars were in the street, but no one was actually in the parking lot, only a few parked cars and Vince’s bike.
Not wanting to say no, and rather intrigued by the abandoned restaurant, I followed him through the door. With my heart beat steadily increasing with each step; I gazed around the empty establishment, staying a few steps behind him. The restaurant consisted of one large room, filled with eight booths, eight tables, and a small kitchen which was exposed and open for the patrons of the restaurant to view while dining. It was more upscale than I suspected it would be, considering its location. As I turned and looked at the artwork still hanging on the walls, I couldn’t help but wonder if the location was part of the reason it closed. Such a nice place in a small town outside of the city, and in a rundown shopping mall, it seemed a strange choice for the location. I glanced toward a few of the tables, their chairs askew, wondering if people left in a hurry or were ushered out after a grand closing complete with wine, live music, and streamers dangling from the ceiling. It seemed strange having full access to the place, knowing at one point it was a thriving business filled with lovers, businessmen, and the occasional debt collecting biker.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Vince said, causing me to shift my focus daydreaming to him.
He pointed to a single bottle of wine below the wine rack, sitting in a wine cooler. “There’s one bottle…”
“What is it?” I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders, opened the door of the small cooler, and handed it to me.
“It’s a 2006 Schiopetto Pinot Grigio,” I said. “Most wine connoisseurs wouldn’t admit to loving this, but it’s a great wine.”
He pulled two glasses from the overhead rack, blew away what little dust may have been inside, and began to hunt for a corkscrew. After a short search, he found one and uncorked the bottle.
After pouring the wine, he lifted a glass and gazed into it. “Want a taste”
As I chuckled at his question, my mouth began to water. “Really? You’re asking me if I want some wine?”
Dressed in his cut, a snow white tee shirt, jeans, and his leather boots, he seemed out of place standing in the end of the kitchen with a glass of wine in his hand. Truth be told, we both seemed out of place in the closed restaurant. We seemed like criminals.
After sip of the wine, it really didn’t seem to matter much. The wine was chilled perfectly, and was quite tasty. Somewhat disappointed we didn’t at least have an appetizer or something to nibble on while we drank it, I fixed my eyes on the small stainless steel refrigerator a few feet to Vince’s right.
“What’s in the fridge?” I asked. “Anything?”
He took a sip of wine, walked to the refrigerator, and opened the door. “Looks like some white cheese, some leafy shit, a bag of tomatoes and that’s about it. Maybe something left over from an appetizer or something.”
He slammed the door of the refrigerator and turned to face me.
“Let me see it,” I said as I stepped around him.
I opened the refrigerator. Fresh Basil, Roma tomatoes, and a few pounds of fresh mozzarella were on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, just as Vince said. No doubt left over from the previous nights closing, it appeared fresh and seemed like a great idea.
A few seconds later, and I had found appetizer plates, a sharp knife, and balsamic vinegar. While I sipped my wine, I prepared two plates and walked to where Vince still stood.
“Viola!” I said as I handed him a plate.
“Does this shit even go together?” he asked.
“Try it,” I said as I picked up a piece of the appetizer I had prepared.
“All together?” he asked.
“Just like they’re layered,” I said as I lifted mine in the air.
I ate the cheese, tomato, and basil leaf in one bite and after swallowing it, took a drink of wine.
“Heaven,” I sighed.
Vince did the same. “Damn, pretty good stuff. You’re handy as fuck.”
“Blind luck they left that stuff there,” I said.
We carried our plates, the bottle of wine, and the glasses to one of the many empty tables. Although it might not have appealed to just any woman, having wine and an appetizer with Vince in a restaurant we had broken into was romantic.
We were alone, the place was only lighted by the indirect sunlight, and it was quiet. As we sat and talked, drinking our wine and sharing cheese, a few cars came and went in the parking lot, but as far as I was concerned, we were alone in a perfect sense.
As the bottle of wine produced its last drop, I glanced at my watch, well aware we would need to leave soon. Three hours had passed since we had left my house, further proof of my belief that time with Vince passed at a drastically rapid rate.
“I’ve got to pee,” I said as I glanced around dining area.
“The hallway in the rear,” he said as he tossed his head to the side.
I walked to the rear of the restaurant and into the hallway. The first door I reached was the men’s restroom, and although I fully realized I never would have considered doing it in any other circumstance, I always wanted to see what the inside of the men’s bathroom looked like.
Fully expecting to have to hover over the dirty toilet, but far too curious not to go inside, I pushed the door open, knowing no one was going to come inside.
Surprised at the cleanliness of the restroom, I peed, washed my hands, and pulled out a towel from the dispenser. I tossed it toward the trash can receptacle, missed, and walked toward the corner to pick it up.
A small brown bag lay on the floor beside the trash can with my wadded paper beside it. I picked up both, tossed the tissue in, and began to wad the bag into a ball. As I smashed the brown paper sack, a receipt fell out onto the floor.
Naturally, I picked it up, and even more naturally – at least for me – I looked at it. The receipt was date and time stamped, and from a local upscale grocery store close to Vince’s mother’s home. I stared down at the receipt and did the math for military time, which never quite came natural for me.
16:44 5.8.2015
The receipt was for the bottle of wine, basil, tomatoes, and cheese. And the items were purchased at 4:44 pm, roughly a half hour before Vince showed up to pick me up.
The entire night wasn’t happenstance, he had planned it.
I folded the receipt, shove
d it into the pocket of my shorts, and looked at myself in the mirror. The woman who looked back was happy, beautiful, and very much in love. I grinned at her, opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
Still sitting at the table, holding his half-full glass of wine under his nose, Vince didn’t look the part of a romantic, at least not in the big picture. He looked like he wanted the world to see him.
Like the bad ass, take no shit, don’t fucking look at me or I’ll rip your head off, tattooed biker that he was.
He was those things, but he was so much more.
He was kind, sincere, and filled with devotion to the woman he loved.
And that woman just so happened to be me.
Chapter Two Hundred Twenty-One
VINCE
May 8th, 2015
I watched as she walked down the hallway toward where I was seated. A firm believer that she was without a doubt the most beautiful creature God had ever created, I sat and admired her without trying to bring attention to the fact I was doing so. Watching her simply meander from point “A” to point “B”, for me, had to be comparable to what most men experienced watching a Victoria’s Secret runway show.
“I love you,” she said as she stepped to my side.
I leaned forward, kissed her lightly, and gazed at her admiringly as I pulled my lips from hers.
“I love you,” she said. “Very much.”
“So, you ready to get out of here?” I asked as I picked up the glasses and plates from the table.
She placed her hands on her hips and arched her back slightly. “I don’t think so,” she said.
“Oh no?” I asked as I walked toward the kitchen.
I placed the dirty dishes in the sink, turned to face her, and shrugged my shoulders. “I think it was a great evening here. Kind of romantic, if you ask me.”
“It was,” she said. “It was very romantic.”
“What are we going to do now?” I asked as I motioned around the room. “Here?”
She twisted back and forth on the balls of her feet, her hands still pressed against her hips. “Well, I’m going to suck that big cock of yours. I don’t care what you do.”
“Oh are you?” I asked.
She nodded her head, reached behind her head with both hands, and tightened her ponytail.
“Yep. Sure am,” she said as she lowered her hands.
With her eyes fixed on mine, she began to walk in my direction. The entire twenty or so feet, she maintained eye contact, walking slowly and gracefully. She stopped mere inches from where I was standing, still gazing into my eyes, and lowered herself onto her knees, her eyes locked on mine the entire time.
By the time she reached me, my dick was fighting against the fabric of the denim jeans, aching to be released.
Without speaking, I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and pulled out my cock, gazing into her eyes as I did so.
She took me in her hand, and while still looking up at me intently, licked the pre-cum from the tip of my dick, leaving a small strand of it connecting her tongue to the head for a long second before it finally fell, only to be caught by her hand and lifted to her mouth.
As she licked her hand, it was over for me. I couldn’t take it any longer. Seeing her doing what she was doing was far too much for me, and on this particular night, although I wasn’t drunk, I was well aware I wouldn’t make it a matter of minutes.
Sienna was much too sexy of a woman.
I bent my knees slightly, reached down and slipped my hands under her armpits, and as she began to encompass the swollen head in with her lips, I lifted her from her knees and to her feet.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“Don’t even start,” I said. “You know what. You do that shit on purpose, you sexy little bitch.”
She pressed the tip of her index finger to her lips, doing her best to look innocent, but appeared to be as guilty as she truly was. “I just love that big cock of yours, that’s all,” she said.
“And I love that tight little pussy of yours,” I said as I lifted her in the air.
Her eyes met mine as I hoisted her above the floor and held her in the air, her feet dangling six inches from the floor.
“What are you going to do to me, you big mean biker?” she asked in another effort to be as innocent as she could in appearance.
“Whatever I want to,” I said as I held her in place.
“Please don’t fuck me,” she whispered. “I just wanted to suck your cock. Please don’t fuck me.”
“You afraid?” I asked.
She gazed down at my cock, feigned a gasp, and covered her mouth quickly. “It’s too big. It won’t fit in my little pussy. I’m scared.”
I lowered her to the floor. As her feet made contact with the concrete, I began to stroke my cock. Her innocent routine had me so worked up I’d be lucky to last a matter of minutes. I unbuttoned my cut, took off my shirt, and draped them over the back of a chair.
“You’re so muscular. Oh no, you’re not going to make me fuck you, are you? Please, don’t make me fuck you. You’re so big and muscular,” she said as she widened her eyes and stared at my chest.
“Get undressed,” I said as I pointed toward her shorts.
“But my pussy, it’s so tight, you’ll hurt me,” she said in a high-pitched whine as she turned away.
“I’ll hurt you if you don’t get undressed,” I growled.
“Yes, Sir,” she said. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
I shook my head at her innocent little girl efforts. “Toss your clothes on the table and bend over,” I said.
“Anything you say, just don’t hurt me,” she said softly as she pushed her shorts down her thighs.
“Leave on the shoes,” I said as I pointed to her sneakers.
“Please let me take them off, I don’t want you to fuck me in my shoes,” she whimpered. “I’m so scared…”
I shook my head, pointed at the table, and cleared my throat. “Bend over.”
“Please, please don’t fuck me from behind. Pleeeaaaaaase, I’m begging you. It’ll go too deep,” she whined as she pulled down her panties and tossed them on the table.
“Bend over,” I said in a demanding tone.
“But you’re too big. You’ll hurt me. You’ll tear my little pussy up,” she said as she bent over and pressed her tits into the top of the table.
My jeans had been around my thighs the entire time. As she turned to face away from me, I kicked off my boots and dropped my jeans to the floor. Now standing naked with the exception of my socks, I was well beyond ready to start fucking.
Without warning, I swept my foot against the inside of each of her feet, spread her legs apart slightly, and guided the head of my stiff cock inside of her at the same time. With the feeling of her tight wet pussy surrounding the shaft, I slowly pushed myself into her until I bottomed out.
“Oh, god,” she gasped. “You’re way too big.”
I pulled my hips back, revealing my glistening cock one inch at a time. As I watched it slide free of her wet folds, I realized I had no business watching. Keeping my eyes open while I fucked Sienna was becoming a huge problem. She was turning me into a twat in more ways than one, the primary being I was far too deeply in love with her, and the secondary was without a doubt the fact she was more beautiful than any other woman on earth. Hell, I couldn’t even give her a good fucking and enjoy seeing it. Frustrated at the thought of me becoming soft, and feeling the need to give her a good hard fucking, I needed her to stop with the “I’m a tight-pussied little girl” routine.
It was just too much.
“Just stop it,” I sighed.
She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Stop what?”
I leaned forward, gazed down toward her ass, and watched my cock disappear into her tight hole.
I should have turned away.
“Oh, god. You’re too big, please, please, Sir. Let me go. Don’t fuck my tight little pussy any more, I’m begging you
,” she pouted.
You really need to stop that.
I grasped her waist in my hands, pulled my hips back, and as soon as I felt the head clear her pussy lips, pushed my hips forward again. As I felt her warmth surround the shaft, I pulled back again.
I can do this. I can do this.
I pushed myself inside her until I felt myself bottom out.
“Please, let me go. Your cock is way too big, you’re going to rip my little pussy to shreds,” she whimpered.
You ornery little bitch…
I reached down, grabbed her ponytail in my hand, and pulled against it tight. As her back arched slightly, I pressed my hips against her ass, held them in place, and began to grind my cock in and out of her. With my free hand, I reached around and cupped my palm against her mouth.
Fucking her deeply with her hair pulled tight, I tightened my grip on her mouth, preventing her from saying a word. Her muffled grunts against my hand, our fucking each other in an abandoned restaurant, the setting sun, and the fact her pussy really was tiny and tight was slowly working against me. I needed to close my eyes.
Fuck it.
I love this woman, what’s it really matter.
“Take that big cock, little girl,” I bellowed as I pounded it deep in her pussy.
She grunted against my hand.
“That’s right. You’re getting that big biker dick now, aren’t you? And there isn’t a god damned thing you can do about is, is there?” I grunted.
I pressed my chest to her back and moved my face beside hers. She turned her head to the side and widened her eyes. I pressed my hand against her mouth, continuing to muffle her voice into nothing but grunts.
“Fuck no there isn’t. You’re fucked. I’m taking that pussy whether you like it or not,” I growled into her ear.
“Because I can,” I whispered.
I began to fuck her hard, fast, and without reservation. The sound of my hips slapping against her ass echoed down the empty corridor. With each stroke in, I pulled her hair back, causing her to arch her back even more.