by Jaden Wilkes
“Well, maybe not every single time,” I mumble and look at the menu. Now it’s going to be really obvious if I don’t order it. God I hate this social interaction shit. I should have fucked him in the bathroom, then I could be dancing my face off at some after hours warehouse on the east side by now.
“Name one time you ordered something else,” Eva kept on. “I dare you.”
“Uh, that time we were here twice in one night, I ordered a piece of pie the second time,” I reply in my lame defense.
“Ha, that doesn’t count. That was like dessert for the first meal,” Eva says, triumphant and obviously the clear winner in our own version of the ‘argue just to argue’ game.
“Well, I think it’s kinda cool that we like the same things,” Hush says. He winks and adds, “that just means there are a few things we both like, right?”
I blush and lock eyes with him. I fucking blush because I have the flash of his fingers deep inside of me where it felt natural and right. My pussy throbs, out here in the glaring bright lights of the Denny’s. I feel exposed in my lust but I don’t fucking care. I would drag him to the bathroom to feel those fingers again if I wasn’t so fucking hungry.
“Ok, I’m getting a waitress before these two start fucking on the table,” Diesel says, waving at a tired looking older woman bursting out of her brown Denny’s uniform. She sighs and shuffles over. She must hate the likes of us, but I admire her tenacity.
“Whaddayawant?” she asks, flipping open a notebook. She is a caricature of a bored waitress, but I didn’t want to offend her by telling her this. I wish I sketched so I could draw her right now, but even that artistic homage would be taken badly I’m sure.
“I’ll have the Everything Omelet with a-” I start to order but I’m cut off as I feel Hush’s fingers creeping over my thigh. Stay cool, come on, I need to force myself to finish. I clear my throat and continued, “a cup of tea.”
“Orange Pekoe or English Breakfast?” she asks as his fingers find the top of my thong and move it aside. My God his fingers are long and agile, and I can feel that rough callous on the tips, the little extra patch that sends my brain packing and lets my clit take over.
“Um, Uh,” I manage to get out. She sighs and closes her eyes as if praying for the strength to not smack me. “Orange Pekoe!” I say at last as his fingers find my wet folds.
“And you?” the waitress looks at Hush. He is sitting in the booth closest to her and he looks up with his flashy smile. She warms slightly when she sees his beautiful eyes and classic good looks, all-Canadian in spite of the mohawk.
“I’ll have the same as her,” he says and nods towards me, then passes her our menus with his free hand. I don’t know how Eva and Diesel are talking quietly to each other, or how the waitress isn’t asking us to leave; it feels like it should be completely obvious to everyone that I am being fingered under the table right now. I can’t concentrate, his fingers have found my clit and I can feel my pussy getting hotter and wetter by the second. I should have put a napkin on the seat before I sat down; he’s got me oozing as he flicks my clit.
The waitress takes the other two orders and leaves, luckily Eva and Diesel have gone back to nuzzling each other’s necks and don’t notice when I lean forward, my face flushed. I pick up the spoon and hold it in my fingers, rubbing the smooth curve with my thumb, matching his relentless rhythm.
“You are a magnificent little slut, aren’t you?” Hush leans over and whispers in my ear, I can feel his hot breath on my neck. I can’t reply, I’m about to gush on him for the second time that night and it feels like sacrilege to speak at the moment. I rub the spoon and stare at it intently, concentrating on his fingers, my clit. My vision narrows and that’s all that’s left of the world.
“Look at me,” he demands in my ear, and I do, I turn my head to obey him.
His piercing eyes lock on mine and I cannot look away. I am the deer, he is the headlight and we’re about to collide. I hit him hard, but I go completely still. On the outside I look like I’m staring into my lover’s eyes, I’m positively serene, on the inside I am a raving lunatic, tearing at my hair, frothing at the mouth and screaming his name at the top of my lungs. My performance is fucking Oscar worthy, and I want to drop dramatically into a bow and exit stage left when I finish with the smallest of shudders.
He slowly removes his fingers from my slit and pushes my thong back in place. He traces his wet fingers along my upper thigh, down to my knee, then brings his hand back to the top of the table and cups my face.
I can smell my scent on him, heady and organic. It turns me on again. I don’t stop throbbing. He leans his forehead against mine, our eyes are comically huge this close and at this perspective. I laugh and turn away, sucking his fingers into my mouth. I taste myself now, tangy and sweet, I slide my tongue along them and hear him groan. He leans towards my ear again and says, “I need to fuck you tonight,” in a low voice that reflects my own urgency.
I melt into him, practically swooning, and finally close my eyes. Hush kisses the top of my head and strokes my hair. I reach up and feel the fuzz of his shaved head, the wall of his mohawk still standing mostly on end this late night. It’s a painfully sweet intimate moment and somewhere inside of me I am on alert level red. Pull away, draw back, batten the hatches and shut the drawbridge. My body won’t react though, and I stay there pressed against him, feeling him breathe and pet my hair with fingers that smell like me.
“Oh look at the lovebirds, I told you they’d hit it off,” Eva interrupts at last. I didn’t know how I could have pulled myself away from the intoxicating closeness we had been sharing, so I thank her silently when we pull apart. I'm not used to this level of connection, especially with somebody I just met, and even more so with somebody that seemingly ticks all the boxes on my list outlining the "perfect guy." More than that, perfect guy by society’s standards, mohawk and all.
“You’ve got the soul of a matchmaker,” Diesel replies, kissing Eva’s hand. “You knew we were meant to be together, right?”
“Of course, and I couldn’t leave my poor girl out in the cold, right Jade?” she sticks her tongue out at me. “I wasn’t sure she was going to like you though, she’s been avoiding me ever since I mentioned it.”
“Oh, same with Hush here, he’s the virgin of our little group.” Diesel laughs. “He’s been with us a couple of months and we haven’t seen him use his rock God powers for good at all. I mean come on, what’s the point of having adoring fans lined up if you’re just going to go home alone?”
“Oh I think we were destined to find each other,” Hush smiles and looks at me, “she hunted me down all on her own, didn’t you babe?”
“I confess, I followed your fine ass all the way to the men’s room,” I say. It was weird, this feeling like we were doing something totally conventional, like double dating. “I couldn’t help myself...can’t help myself.” I hate how smug the three of them look so I add “It must be the X I took earlier,” just to dampen their moods. It doesn’t work and I feel like I’ve been sold in some auction I had no awareness of.
The tea shows up, then the food and we make quick work of it. I know I’m eating fast because I want to get home and fuck, I’m not sure about the others, but we’re probably all on the same page.
After Hush picks up the tab, we head into the street and walk a couple of blocks over to catch a cab. Eva and I occupy the second floor of a three-story heritage conversion off Main Street. It’s a really nice house, I could never afford it without Eva’s parent’s money, but I’ve learned to swallow my pride years ago. Without her I’d be taking the train in from Surrey to my shitty job instead of taking a fifteen-minute bus ride to get downtown.
The four of us pile into the back of the taxi that stops, we give the driver our address and settle in. It’s crowded and it’s going to take twice as long to make it home, we make small talk with the driver until Eva and Diesel fall into each other’s arms and start making out
next to me. Us girls are in the middle, the guys on the outside. I can feel Eva wiggling her ass next to mine as she grinds against Diesel. I lean away from her, to the right, and end up pressing myself even harder against Hush. God I love this man, his hard body fits mine so perfectly, there’s none of the awkward crashing of limbs or the painful cramping that often comes with embracing a new person. We are maybe meant to be together, at least for a little while.
He leans over me and kisses the top of my head, I tilt up to face him and he catches my breath as he pushes down on me, kissing me hard. He bites my lower lip and holds the back of my head with his hand, the other arm envelopes me as his tongue finds mine. I go limp, pretty much swooning again, what the fuck? Most of my sex occurs with the Pretty Woman rule in mind, no kissing, and I’m like a sexual stage director, I am always in charge of where things go. Here I am letting him kiss me, hold me, caress me like I’m his fucking girlfriend.
I want to be his girlfriend, and I hate this. I hate this lack of control. But I want him, I want to fuck him, to love him, to submit to him and see where this will all take us.
At our place he pays the driver and we head upstairs. I don’t even remember the walk up, the moment we’re inside we separate, Eva and Diesel off to her room in the back of her house, and Hush and I to mine, at the front off the living room. I know we leave a trail of clothes as we edge towards my door, our lips sealed together like two starving creatures seeking sustenance.
Finally we get there, I kick my door closed with my foot as we pass through and we pull apart. We stand there looking at each other, he’s been inside of me twice now, fingered my pussy in public, made me whine like a bitch in heat, and suddenly I feel shy.
“I want you down,” he says, taking the pressure off me. I’m relieved that he’s taken charge, but I narrow my eyes and look at him. Should I do it immediately, or make him work for it a little.
Fuck, of course I’ll make him work for it. Even with Disney bluebirds flying around my head as I crush on my perfect punk rock God, as much as I crave his cock and want to run my hands over his hard stomach, I have to make him work for it. It’s in my nature.
“What do you mean?” I say and blink rapidly, doing my best impression of a dumb blonde.
He moves towards me and towers over my short frame. I’m so hot for him that I will definitely do anything he wants, but I need to struggle a little, for my last shred of dignity. “You know exactly what I mean,” he replies, his voice low and thick with lust.
“I’m not sure, down where?” I blink again and suppress a giggle.
“So you want it like this, do you?” he replies. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” He grabs my wrists and looks me in the eye. “If you feel like I am overwhelming you at any time, yell fencepost and I’ll stop.”
“You mean our safe word?” I laugh. He’s not kidding though, I see that immediately after.
“Yes, our safe word,” he pushes me to my knees before I can react. I gasp at the speed in which he has me on the floor. His hand still encircles my wrists, I feel tiny in his grasp.
“Fencepost?” he asks me, his eyebrows raised with a sardonic twist to his lips. I think he wants me to back out, but of course I won’t, I can’t.
I look at him from on my knees, I make sure to look up through my eyelashes to enhance my features and deliberately say, “Not even close.”
“Good,” he replies and uses his free hand to unbutton his jeans and lower the zipper deliberately, painfully slow. I am impressed at this skill and realize I am about to finally see his cock. I am almost drooling in anticipation as he wiggles slightly and pulls it out.
In every woman’s mind when she’s about to see a man’s cock for the first time, there’s a point where she starts to worry about it. I know size apparently doesn’t matter, but give me a thick slab of meat any day of the week honestly. It might just be me, but I’m always worried I’ll be stuck with a little dick every time I get naked with somebody new. It’s worse if you like him, you pray to whatever God you are calling out to that night that he’ll have a good one, just in case you end up riding it more than a few nights.
Thank you Jeebus. It is magnificent.
He releases my wrists and I wrap my hands around the throbbing flesh, drinking in the sight of his dick. It’s got to be almost nine inches, and so thick I can barely get a hand around the base. He’s cut, the head is a luscious pink that’s begging to be kissed, and I am dying to wrap my lips around it, to see how much of it I can take. Fuck, I love a challenge.
But I want him to make me. I look up at him, at this angle he is even more delicious, he is commanding and almost intimidating, but I suddenly want him to be forceful.
I know I must look amazing from his point of view, I might look like a lame fucking creeper when I’m trying to flirt, but I know I look incredible when I’m ready to fuck.
“What do you want me to do with it?” I ask him from under my lashes.
Hush laughs. “You really do want to play, don’t you?” He grabs the back of my head and pulls my face to his cock. I can’t help myself, I open my mouth and close my eyes, I want to taste him, to eat him up. He grips my hair and gives me a small shake, I open my eyes and look up questioningly, poised a hair’s width from his cock head. “I want to see your eyes when you suck me like a nasty whore,” he says and caresses my jaw line with his other hand. “I want to see you get so hot that you’re ready to beg me to fuck your pussy, so leave your eyes open, babe.”
“Ok,” I whisper, lick my lips and let him impale my face on his cock. I choke, I mean I fucking love cock sucking, I’m almost a pro, but he gags me with his girth. This is a totally different level, I’ve never had my lips stretched so wide, and I get a thrill race through my body thinking about him splitting my pussy lips with this bad boy.
I relax and force my throat to open, I almost feel Zen in my calm acceptance of his control, he holds my head still so I am unable to wiggle away or back up off his cock. He is fucking my face, a steady rhythm that I handle like a five-dollar hooker. I look up at him, he is staring at me with his eyes alight, lust burns there. I reach up and tug at his shirt, slide my hands underneath and feel his hard abs; his body is out of this world. I tug his shirt up and he gets the hint.
“You want this off?” he asks and smiles. “How bad? If I strip for you, are you going to strip for me?”
I nod my reply and try to squeeze some words out around him; it’s the best I can do with him filling my mouth with his thickness. With a cock in your mouth, you speak only in vowels and gestures. He slides the tee shirt over his body and tosses it somewhere behind him. I am rewarded with the sight of his incredible body, out of this world, the best I’ve had the pleasure of being attached to. I was right, his tattoos encircle his pecs, beautiful black outlines with some bright colour. A Phoenix from mythology wraps around his ribcage, the fiery feathers edging down along the side of him, and disappear into his pants. I tug at the waistband, slide my mouth off his cock and tease, “Come on, aren’t these getting a little too tight?”
“I like your enthusiasm,” he teases back and pulls them down to kick them off. He’s apparently commando tonight, but if I had a dick that impressive, I don’t think I’d want it caged either. Actually, if I had that between my legs, I’d probably whip it out and show people on a continuous basis...when I wasn’t hiding in my room playing with it that is.
Our intermission is over, his face become fierce with concentration, he puts a hand back behind my head and drags me down onto his shaft. I no longer gag on his huge member when the head hits me deep in my throat. Like a sword swallowing sideshow freak, I am enjoying the theatrics of this performance. I moan and wiggle my ass, I wish I could be filled from both ends, but only want him, if only I could clone him.
He moves his hips faster, pushing himself in and out of me, he grasps a handful of hair, as much as he can get, and pins me against his cock. My mouth is so full I can barely breathe. I manage
to get air through my nostrils as saliva and pre-cum ooze down my chin. I am on fire, electric current travels from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I can almost visualize my body’s response to his domination of me. I am his whore, his slut, his bitch and his Goddess, on my bare knobby knees in my bedroom. He has become the master, taking over my space and my body, and I never want him to go.
And that scares me. How normal this seems, how little I want to struggle and how much I want him to use me, to mess me up and destroy me...then pick me up and pull me back together in his arms. I run my hands up and down the backs of his calves, his legs are solid muscle and I feel them quiver with each movement, he’s keeping his balance as he prepares to shoot his load into me, my first taste of his cum.
I can’t break eye contact. He is breathing heavily, and although it feels like it’s been like this forever, I know it’s only been a few moments. I feel smug at how quickly he’s going to explode, how much he must want me, but a little embarrassed at how much I want him, how desperate I am to taste him.
“Oh fuck Jade, I want to fill you with my cum,” he rasps suddenly. “I want to see you crawling on your hands and knees, wrecked and exhausted, all your holes dripping…” He tenses up and I feel his balls tighten, I grab them in one hand and cradle them gently as he presses himself against my face, I smell sweat and a musky, masculine scent, it turns me on as much as him face fucking me.
He pulls out suddenly, grabs his dick and starts stroking it. I reach up to draw it back in my mouth, but he loosens his grip from the back of my head and knocks my hands away. “Take off your shirt, let me see your tits,” he commands, his breathing ragged. I wiggle slowly out of my tee shirt, a snake-like motion, and slide it over my head. Fuck this is hot. I usually hate this part, the grand reveal of my less than adequate body. The look on his face as he watches me and masturbates is enough to inject me with all kinds of crazy confidence. This punk rock Disney prince wants to fuck me, and he wants it bad. Sexual desire kicks insecurity out the back door and I move like a fucking pole dancer.
