The Size Anthology

by KT Morrison

  “I got it, baby,” she yelled.

  She had the gun, and Jamie had her hand, and she was trying to get away from him. He was pulling her back, desperately going for his pistol. It looked like a three-fifty-seven, a short barrel. It was trouble.

  Emma clutched it then to her chest pulling it to her with both hands and getting on top of it, this other guy’s hand underneath her now.

  Troy was panicked, gripped with fear, he could feel the tears come through his eyes, the terror. He screamed her name again, and every millisecond got heavier and heavier with the dread of an anticipated gunshot going off underneath her, piercing her little heart.

  He grabbed the guy’s ankle and pulled him a bit, just let him know he was there. He wanted to throw him up against the wall, smash him against it til his head fell off but if he pulled too hard the gun could go off and it would be his fault.

  Emma was face down flat on the floor and she had the gun underneath her, Jamie was on all fours his balls hanging down, he had one hand under her on the gun and his leg pulled straight out behind him. Troy was yelling, his voice frantic and high.

  Jamie twisted unexpectedly and he was on his back. He had the gun now and Emma had her hands wrapped around his forearm.

  “I’m sorry, Troy—he got it from me!”

  The muzzle swung towards him and he put his hands up in front of him like that would stop a bullet. Emma snaked up his arm and her hands wrapped around the pistol.

  “No, no—” Troy managed to say before the gun went off.

  Everyone stopped. Troy looked down to Emma to see if she’d been hurt. She looked fine, her face was crazed with fear but her eyes were open and he could see her breathing. Craig was in shock, he stared wildly at both of them, back and forth. He was gulping air.

  Emma watched Troy pat himself down, feeling if he’d been hit.

  “Up there, baby,” Emma said and she wrenched the pistol from Jamie. He was too stunned to stop her.

  Troy looked up behind him and saw a perfect circle punched through the hardboard wall, two feet to his side and at head height.

  He put his hand on his heart and looked at Emma. His face was wide with shock, That was so close, baby. He looked down at them, Jamie naked sitting on the floor his legs apart, still hard. Emma was behind him her long white legs spread out on either side of Jamie. She had both hands on the pistol.

  “Troy? Get him, baby,” she hollered at him.

  Troy shook his head and lunged at Jamie who just put his hands up. Troy grabbed him by both ankles and helicoptered him across the room, scattering him across the junk on the coffee table.

  “He might have guns everywhere, baby,” Emma said behind him as he stalked over to Jamie for a follow-up. Jamie was pulling himself out of the mess, crawling over the turned over table, but Troy was right there. He pulled him into a headlock, locked it tight around his neck. Jamie kicked and bucked, and he coughed and spit but the more he did it the tighter it got. He was out in fifteen seconds and Troy dropped him to the floor and he fell onto his back, one leg crossed over the other and both arms splayed out straight.

  “He looks like Jesus on the cross,” Troy said, panting. He wasn’t winded from the action, he was struggling with the adrenalin from almost dying. “With a big dick,” he added.

  She crossed the room to him running, doing it in three steps, launched herself to him wrapping her legs around his hips and she locked her mouth over his, kissing him wetly. She had her arms around him, the pistol still in her hand.

  She pulled away, said, “Baby, I thought you might never come.”

  “You didn’t leave me much to go on.”

  “You woulda if you hadn't smashed my phone.”

  “That felt good doing it,” he said.

  “We can’t afford another one right now, baby,”

  He kissed her, out of his mind with passion, his hands covered her back, feeling every bit of her. She squeezed him tight with her thighs.

  “Mm—we’ll...figure it out,” he said as he undid his pants while she kissed him again.

  “We gotta get outta here, baby—don't we, I mean the gunshot—”

  “We’ll be quick, Emma, c’mon baby, I’ve been looking for you for hours I’ve been going out of my mind.”

  “All right, sugar, let’s be quick,” she said and jumped down. She felt funny when she landed, wobbly and dizzy, she said, “Oh baby, you make me so weak in the knees.” She pulled his boxers right down and his little dick was hard as steel pointing right up to the sky.

  “Quick, baby,” she said and she got down on her hands and knees.

  “You want it like that?” he said.

  “C’mon, sugar, I need it.” She got herself on all fours on the carpet and wagged her ass at her husband.

  He got down behind her and slid right inside and she gasped. She was wet and stretched but she still felt tight on him. He pounded into her, he was so close it wouldn’t be long. He put his hand around her, across her belly, and then between her legs, and he ran his fingers on her.

  “Oh gravy, Troy,” she squealed.

  He slipped his finger inside her and could feel his little thing stroking against it.

  Emma fell to her elbows weak with pleasure, she had the pistol in both hands and she could feel the heat from the muzzle under her fingers. “That was so crazy, daddy. We went too far, didn’t we?”

  “We sure...we sure did, Emma...ah...”

  “How bad am I, daddy?”

  “I ought to have brought your mom and dad with me. I could have kicked that door down and they would have seen you havin sex with that man.”

  “What would theya seen?”

  “They would have seen their little baby’s beautiful bare body, your perfect little titties jiggling, your face turned up showing so much pleasure from his...big...uh, cock...”

  “They’d be so ashamed—”

  “I coulda brought the Pastor too. We all would have seen you.”

  “She knows I’m wicked”

  “She can see right through you, baby.”

  “I had a stranger in my bad place, daddy...ah, it...oh, it hurt Troy...he has a real humdinger on him.”

  “Gosh, Emma, you can’t get any badder.”

  “See his balls, baby?”

  “He’s got some big ones, don’t he?”

  She put the pistol under his big pecker and flipped it over, then lifted up his sack with it. “Should I blow his balls off, sweet pea?”

  “You’re already safe, baby. I got him for you. He can’t hurt you with that thing now.”

  He took himself out and flipped her over, threw her on her back. She lay spread eagle on the floor in front of him with the pistol in her hand. He put his hands around her throat and squeezed her, she tilted her neck for him, let him do it. He squeezed and released while he slid himself back inside her.

  He drove into her, hammering like a piston, stabbing her with his pecker and squeezing her neck. Her hand clutched at his big wrists and she fucked him back, bucking against him when he drove forward. She tapped at his hands and he let her go. She looked like he might have done it to her, she arched her back and her chin pointed straight up.

  “Oh Golly, Troy, it’s gonna happen baby,” she was squeaking with each thrust, her face troubled and contorted, her eyebrows struck up in the middle as she struggled for relief. Her mouth was open, bent in a crying shape, her white teeth clenched in urgency. “Ah, baby,” she hissed through them, “I hear sirens—”

  “They’re coming to get us, baby.”

  “Oh, Troy, it’s comin, don’t stop, don’t stop...”

  The story made the San Marco paper. Nothing major, just a few paragraphs in the back with the other local misdemeanours. Very few details, and Troy and Emma’s names were left out of it. Paper said there was a shooting with no one injured during a domestic dispute. Barely a sliver of the real story, not even a hint of a thing that had brought them to that point. No mention of their depravity, of how low they woul
d go to get each other off. Just sounded like one of a million domestic disputes in Texas that year.

  Four police officers surrounded Troy on the scene and corralled him. They anticipated a struggle getting the cuffs on this big boy, but in the end he just put his hands behind his back and let them get the cuffs around his wrists. Emma lay face down on the light blue shag and a policeman put his knee on her back as he cuffed her. Someone put a blanket over her shoulders and walked her out into the grass. When they separated them they put her in the back of a cruiser and she’d never tell anyone but she got herself one more orgasm from it. A little one that made her shiver and throw her head back briefly with her eyes rolled right up. It was the cuffs, the rough handling, and the dirty cop vinyl she could feel on her bare wet sex as she squirmed in the back seat while all the neighbours watched her from their lawns.

  All three of them were arrested. Jamie went to jail, and Troy and Emma were released and were able to go home that night. No charges were pressed against them. They’d been questioned and the police were satisfied. Emma was cheating on her husband. Husband catches her in the act and her boyfriend tried to shoot him. They were a young married couple, he had a good job. Jamie had priors and his gun was unregistered. He had three more they found in the apartment that were also unregistered. They found a bag of weed and a bag of Oxy without a prescription.

  Jamie got himself thrown out of U of T. He served thirty days of a hundred and eighty, got out on good behaviour to house arrest and they never saw him again.

  Maybe they got their fill and maybe they didn’t. Maybe they’d do this thing again some crazy time in the future. They had something else on their minds now...

  Epilogue

  Troy and Emma slept in on Saturday morning after being up until eleven unpacking boxes. He sat up and looked over at his wife, so pretty, sleeping in her nest of ginger hair. He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose.

  He started work on Monday at G&S Architectural. Not a lot different than what he was doing in Austin. He was lucky to get the job. They were lucky to be away from Texas.

  The little suburb outside Raleigh, North Carolina, was a better proposition even than Tyler was. Triple the population, triple the amenities, and the small detached three-bedroom cost them the same. They broke even on the move, and the pay in Raleigh was a few thousand more a year.

  Emma had her night dress on, buttoned to the neck, and a little cuff sleeve that covered her upper arms. She couldn’t have meant more to him. He watched her breathe.

  He lifted the sheets and looked down there. Her legs were bare. He had a sudden wooziness, a carnal desire. He pushed it away.

  They had a new church here and the first thing they did was get themselves a marriage mentor. Twice a week they would meet and they could call anytime things felt like they might get a little crazy. They couldn’t explain what they needed, couldn’t dare utter who they had been this past year. But they were following The Path. He pulled the sheets down to the tops of her thighs and then raised her night dress up slowly trying not to disturb her. He slid the hem gently up to her chest.

  Troy put his hand over her tight belly, he could see it now; the slightest bulge, a hillock. Perfectly smooth and tight, the beginning of her baby bump. He put his big hand over her. She was so flawless, so white and pure. They could get it back. They’d work on it. They could do it.

  He longed right now to put his head down between her legs, feel her skin like silk against his cauliflower ears. Taste her, smell the parts of her that made her a woman. He would pick her up, hold her against a wall and push himself inside her. Nope. It would be nighttime only when they made love and they would do it face to face with him between her legs like it was meant to be. It troubled him to resist it, but they needed to be good to one another.

  Emma felt his hand down there, over their beautiful baby. She kept her eyes closed and pretended to sleep. Dreamed of the times when he would slide it down between her legs and put one of his big, thick fingers in her. She let her mind drift. She couldn’t sin, but she could think of the things for which she needed to repent.

  “Good morning,” she said to him.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I couldn’t think of a better way to be woken, Troy.” She put her hand on top of his. Both of them loving the life they’d created inside her.

  He kissed her and she pulled his lower lip into her mouth and bit it. She caught herself. They looked in each other’s eyes and struggled. He lay his head next to hers and they touched their foreheads together. Emma trembled. She thought how much she wanted him to lift her up right now. Lift her and slam her face down on the bed and go in her from behind. He could wrap his strong hands around her pretty neck and squeeze her til she lost it. She thought of those abs of his, hard as stone, heaving as he shot his seed inside her.

  She needed to make a call. Call their marriage mentor. She thought he might have a big one and she was dying to find a way to tell Troy.

  THE END

  Well, I hope you enjoyed reading these oddball characters as much as I enjoyed writing them. Even though it came during a troubling time, there was a lot of goodness in writing this. I could write a few more books with these two—they make me laugh—but I know their story is done...

  —KT

  Size Curious Brat

  1

  When classes ended near the close of the semester and Matt was heading home for Thanksgiving recess the only thing on his mind was putting his arms around his Chloe Rose. It had been two full months—nine whole weeks—since he’d last felt her touch, smelled her hair ... God, tasted her lips. The whole bus ride home, four Greyhound hours across the snowy November Hampshire, then out past the Berkshires, his heart ached; he longed to be with her, share her warm space.

  Chloe was in her last year of high school—she’d had to repeat grade eight when she was just twelve. It made her seem so much younger to him even though he was only four years older than her. It was tough to leave her. Go to University and leave her at the dumpy little high school in their home town while he was off at Cambridge getting on with it, moving ahead. But he was building a life out there, forging his future, and Chloe was a big part of that. She was the most important player on Team Matt. She was the reason he did it all. It was all he wanted from life—to be successful, gainfully employed, make money, but to do it all for his family. His Chloe and their future babies.

  Chloe would be moving on by herself soon enough. Didn’t know what she’d be doing yet. She wasn’t going to go to college. It wasn’t for her. Next year would be his last and then he’d be free to move on. Free to get on with it. He still didn’t know what he was going to do with his life either, but he knew he was armed, and he knew he had purpose, and he knew he would do it with Chloe.

  And there she was: his purpose. Little five-three, ninety-nine pound knockout standing next to her rusted old Ford Focus. She was waiting for him in the gravel parking lot of the rural Highway Café, standing out, looking so out-of-place in this frigid dump with her thick honey-blonde hair blowing around the collar of her ski jacket.

  “There you are, baby,” she called out and she bounced over to him as he threw his bag over his shoulder and held his arms out, dying to wrap them around her. “I missed you so much,” she said into his ear as she jumped into him and he grabbed her, held her so tight to him he thought he might hurt her. He swayed her side-to-side, her high-top sneakers not even touching the icy ground.

  “God, it’s been so long,” he said.

  “I missed you so much, Matt baby.”

  He set her feet down in the snowy gravel and looked deep into her emerald eyes—they were wet with excitement. He knew his were, too. She was the most beautiful girl he could imagine. Milky skin, big, sleepy eyes under the longest eyelashes. Her mouth was small but her lips were big, almost swollen, and he bent over her and brushed his against them. Felt them soft and plump and full against his s
ensitive lips. He sucked her lower lip between his and he bit it gently. She sighed into his open mouth and he smelled and tasted her little kid bubble gum.

  “Oh, Chloe,” he said, and he ran his hand behind her neck and under her full, thick hair, pulled her lips to press against his and sucked her smooth tongue into his mouth. He held her like that and let his tongue feel her all over, let her remember his taste. His heart felt like it could burst.

  “You gotta get me home, baby,” she said.

  “You have to go home?” he asked her.

  “Your home, Matt, you have to get me to your home. My parents are around.”

  “Oh, you mean—”

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean.” She smiled. “It’s been the longest nine weeks of my life. My little lady is aching for it.”

  Her dirty talk made his knees buckle. “Let’s get going,” he said.

  They got in her old Focus—his heart stopped when it wouldn’t start on the first two tries, but finally she got it going and she worked the manual. He watched her small, perfect hand on the end of the knob as she got them through the gears getting them back to his folks’ place.

  2

  “Ah, shit, will you look at this,” Matt said as they pulled into the driveway of his house. There was a brand new Chevy Silverado parked haphazardly in the long driveway and they had to squeeze past it, almost driving into the piled snow bank to get around and up to the walkway. It had blacked-out windows, black wheels with big fat tires on it, the body lifted right up off the suspension.

  “Wow, whose truck is that?” Chloe asked him, looking up at it through her driver’s side window.

  “It’s Moric’s I guess. My stepbrother. I didn’t know he was going to be here already.”

  “He’s home for Thanksgiving?”

  “Yeah. He doesn’t go to school, though. He’s a welder. Deep sea ... down in the Gulf.”