Rock Bottom Girl

by Score, Lucy

  “Why?” I asked. I sounded like I’d just run up the practice field steps sixteen times.

  “I gotta do something, baby. I’ve been dying to.”

  The vagueness of his statement should have resulted in a color guard of red flags. But the lust zinging through my blood like a drug made me stupid.

  I did what he said. Before I could worry about what he was seeing up close, he was yanking my simple cotton briefs down and then—

  “Did you just bite me?” I yelped.

  His teeth were definitely on my ass.

  He groaned without releasing my flesh from his mouth. I felt him suck and lick hard enough that I cried out. It felt good. Wrong and delicious and wonderful.

  Then he was kissing the abused inch of flesh. “I’ve been thinking about doing that since I threw you over my shoulder. I wanted it to be my knee,” he rasped.

  Could I orgasm just from his voice? Low, guttural, dirty. Okay. No. But still.

  He licked over the spot he’d bitten and, at the same time, shoved two fingers into me without warning. “Oh, fuck me, Mars,” he breathed, pumping his fingers into me. “Jesus, baby. You are so fucking ready.”

  I would have answered, but I’d smashed my face against the window. Letting it cool my skin. I bucked against him. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that my body had the capacity to feel all this. I’d held on to a library of rote fantasies that I dutifully used to orgasm during sex. But this? With Jake? I couldn’t hold a thought in my head other than, “Oh, God, yes!”

  He worked me mercilessly, and I heard him lower his zipper.

  Masterful womanizer that he was, Jake released his cock from the confines of his jeans one handed while his other hand busily destroyed me. He levered up on the seat situating himself behind me. And then I felt the drag of the smooth head of his dick on my ass cheek. It was wet.

  He was grunting softly, and I imagined him stroking himself with one big, hard hand while using his other to drive me fucking insane.

  I needed to see. I needed to watch him jerk himself off to me. That would be the new permanent installation in the Marley Cicero Spank Bank Hall of Fame.

  My muscles quivered around his talented digits, and I realized I was seconds away from death by orgasm. I was on my hands and knees. Nothing had so much as grazed my clitoris. My boobs were still covered. He was a maestro of the female orgasm. And he was using his powers for good tonight.

  “Baby, you’re so close,” he groaned. “Don’t you fucking come.”

  “What?” Oh my God. He wasn’t one of those alpha asshole orgasm withholders, was he? I was not into that.

  “I need to see you. I need to be in you when you come.”

  I thought about swooning and decided against it. I wanted this orgasm more than I wanted to live into my eighties.

  “Jake, hurry the fuck up, or one of us will die.”

  He laughed and slapped at my hip. “Roll, baby.”

  “Condom, Weston.”

  I rolled onto my back as Jake dug through his console. He pulled out an entire strip of condoms as if his console was a safe sex dispenser. I rolled my eyes as he used his teeth on the first one.

  He looked so dirty. His chest was bare, the veins in his tattooed arms stood out. And that cock. That magnificent, long, thick cock jutted out of his jeans proudly. I felt lightheaded. And desperate. He rolled the condom on, and I hit myself in the jaw with my knee while I wrestled my underwear off of one leg.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Marley?” he asked, shards of glittering glass in his voice. I would have rolled over those shards if it made him touch me.

  “If it’s half of what you’re doing to me, I’d say you’re in deep shit,” I guessed.

  His green eyes softened for a beat, and then he was leaning over me and pressing a kiss to my mouth. It wasn’t hurried or frantic, but it still had the same effect. His erection prodded at my entrance while his lips gently ravaged my mouth.

  He pulled back, still hovering over me. His expression soft, affectionate. He looked like he was going to tell me something I’d treasure for the rest of my life. Something about my under-the-radar beauty or my womanly charms. How I’d hypnotized him with my wit.

  “Lose the sweater,” he said gruffly.

  I blinked, then laughed. To Jake, that probably was romantic. And I’d take it. With his help, I pulled Mom’s sweater over my head. He threw it into the front seat and then made quick work of my bra.

  My usually sensitive nipples were already on high alert, and when the cold night air hit them, I felt them pebble into tight buds.

  “Oh my God,” he breathed.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Were they lopsided? Did I have weird underwire marks on them?

  “I’ve been thinking about your tits since I dumped you in the locker room shower.”

  Reverently, he cupped them both. I couldn’t think of anything in this world that could compete with the feel of Jake’s palms on my boobs. Not a litter of golden retriever puppies. Not world peace. Not even triple chocolate fudge brownies with ice cream.

  “You’re going to kill me,” he murmured.

  I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or my tits. But we were all good with it.

  “Can I?” he asked, still staring at them. I could feel the hair on his hard thighs against mine. Yeah, he could pretty much have his way with any body part right now.

  “Yes,” I hissed.

  And then his mouth was closing over one pert nipple. I nearly launched myself off the seat. Yeah, sensitive nipples. I mentioned that before. But sensitive nipples with a man who knew what he was doing and wasn’t afraid of really enjoying himself? GAH! Sweet baby cheeses, I wasn’t going to live through this, and I didn’t even care.

  “Jake, if you want to be in me when I come, then you better get moving now,” I said desperately. He wasn’t even fucking me with his fingers, and I was still ready to explode.

  He pulled back from my breast, leaned in, gave the other one a lick, and growled his approval. “Just so you know. Once isn’t enough. I’m just getting started, pretty girl.”

  “Less talking. More orgasms,” I begged.

  I watched him fist his cock in one hand. Even wrapped in latex, it was a sight. The Eighth Wonder of the World: Jake Weston’s Erect Penis.

  And then he was lining himself up with my entrance. “You sure?”

  I nodded. There were a lot of things in life I wasn’t sure about. Should I register independent or choose a political party? Would I have better luck landing a dream job in a big city or a smaller suburb? How did the remote start on my car work?

  But wanting Jake inside me. That was as clear of a yes as I ever had.

  “Hold on to me,” he said, and then he was easing into me inch by spectacular inch.

  47

  Jake

  So this was what Heaven felt like.

  I was buried inside Marley Cicero and trying my hardest not to explode. I thought about Homer and my grandma. Homer eating my grandma’s broccoli casserole at Thanksgiving. I thought about the gas bill I’d left laying on a flat surface somewhere in the house.

  Anything but the woman under me, around me.

  Damn it. I was thinking about her again. I could feel my pulse in the tip of my dick and knew I was one jerky thrust away from coming so hard my fillings would pop out.

  “Are we good?” she panted under me.

  “Baby, don’t take this the wrong way. But if you say another word or move a muscle, this is going to be really embarrassing for me and really disappointing for you.”

  She gave the tiniest laugh, and it almost put me over the edge.

  Homer. Grandma. Broccoli. Gas. Did the Steelers have a shot at the Super Bowl this year? John Quincy Adams.

  The old white guy did it. I felt the biological need to hose Mars down with my ejaculation dull just enough that I could start moving again.

  I pulled out slowly, reveling at the drag of her flesh gripping me. She was
n’t just tight. She was holding me like she’d been specially made for me. And her muscle strength down there was impressive.

  “Fuck. Mars. You feel amazing,” I said, sliding back into her.

  “Jake, I think I’m going to…” She interrupted herself with a long low moan, and I felt it echoed in the eager quivering around my dick.

  “Yeah, baby. Let me have it. Give it up for me,” I said, lowering myself onto her. Her breasts smashed against my chest, and I wished I had a few days just to suck on those perky, rosy nipples. I wished I had months to make love to her. Years to explore her body until there were no secrets left.

  She was there. I could feel it even through the layer of latex that I was currently cursing. I wanted to feel her climax up close and in person.

  “Come with me,” she breathed.

  Women have no idea the turn-on and stress statements like that bring. First of all, it’s really fucking hard to time your own orgasm with a woman. But when you do it right, hot sex turns into a spiritual experience. And for Marley, I was willing to minister or preach or whatever the fuck the right metaphor was.

  I pulled out again, but this time I slammed into her and growled when I felt her grip me like a glove. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I thrust again, harder and faster this time.

  “Yes, Jake! Yes!” She was yelling now, and I fucking loved it.

  She had one foot on the window behind me and one hand on the one above us. Condensation coated the glass as I pistoned into her like a machine. And there it was, boiling up in my balls, working its way to the base of my spine.

  She was coming. I felt the first wave. The clench and release, and that was all it took. My orgasm exploded up my cock and burst free.

  I made some kind of unintelligible grunting groan. Half wild animal, half desperate man. It abraded my throat coming out. I pumped into her, wishing that I was coming into her depths, mixing with her release. I wanted to paint her from the inside out as she wrung me dry with each heaving sob of her own orgasm. Her muscles choked me, making sure I’d lost every single drop of come to her. I was wrung dry, and it still wasn’t enough.

  I collapsed on her, loving the feel of Marley trembling under me.

  “Wow. Wow. Wow,” she whispered, her lips moving against my neck.

  I grunted my agreement.

  My pants were still on. My cock was still in her. And we’d just fucked in a field like a couple of stupid teenagers. I was beyond happy. Beyond satisfied. Beyond wanting to do it again.

  “Wow,” she said again.

  My lips curved. “Am I crushing you?”

  “You’re holding me on the surface of the planet because what we just did destroyed gravity,” she said.

  “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” I asked, nuzzling her hair. It smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. And I wondered if I’d ever be able to smell those scents again without going porn-star hard.

  “Words are just bubbling up like lava. I have no control. Lipstick. Penalty kick. Casserole,” she said. Her hands found my hips, and she squeezed me there. I liked that, too. I wanted to fold her up in my arms, hold her tight against me. But we were crammed into my back seat. And I didn’t do shit like that.

  “Do you usually have this effect on women?” she asked, giving a little laugh.

  The laugh had her tightening around me again, and my cock stirred. It was a little too soon for Round Two, especially after that orgasm that had ripped through me and flayed me.

  “Are you still hard?” she asked on a gasp.

  “Getting there. Like I said, Mars. I don’t think one time is gonna be enough. And I really hope you’re cool with that.”

  I could feel her thinking, so I picked my head up to stare down at her. She was chewing her lip, considering.

  I dropped a kiss on her mouth. It was supposed to be sweet and soft, but she opened her damn mouth for me, and my tongue was plundering like it was his job. Marley brought her knees up around my hips, drawing me in deeper.

  “Baby, I need more. I want you in a bed. My bed.”

  “Jake?” she whispered, tracing a finger over my jaw and then pressing it to my lips.

  She was going to tell me I was a stallion. The best lover she’d ever had. That she’d fallen in love with me and was going to spend most of her waking hours naked with me. “Yeah, Mars?”

  “Will you help me find my pants?”

  I laughed at my own stupidity, and she grinned up at me.

  God, she was beautiful. Her brown eyes were warm and heavy. Her hair was a freaking mess. And the smile that played on her swollen, abused lips was angelic. I so wasn’t done with her. With us.

  “If I help you find your pants, will you come home with me?”

  She nodded, and that sweet smile did something weird to my chest region. It felt warm. Like heartburn, only nice.

  We fumbled for clothes in the dark.

  “I can’t believe we had sex in a back seat in a field,” Marley scoffed as she worked her way back into her jeans.

  “I’ll make it up to you on a nice king-size,” I promised.

  “Oh, are you talking about your dick?” she teased.

  Well, fuck me sideways. I was in love.

  I stared at her as she wiggled into her sweater. When her head popped through the hole, her hair was standing up in all directions. Her makeup was smudged, and she was happier than I’d ever seen her. I did the only thing I could do. I tumbled off my bachelor pedestal face-first, hitting every step on the way down. This was going to be a freaking disaster.

  * * *

  I probably should’ve tried to pump the brakes, not maul her on my front porch. But Marley was irresistible, and I was powerless. All I knew was that my cock wanted to be buried inside her again—lasting longer than ten minutes this time, thank you very much—and that I wanted to wake up to that sweet, sleepy smile.

  “Text your mom,” I insisted, raining kisses down her throat. I had to pull back, careful not to leave any marks. I wasn’t a seventeen-year-old hornball with no finesse. No, I was a nearly thirty-nine-year-old hornball with decent skills. And more self-control than I was displaying currently. “Tell her you’re not coming home tonight.”

  “Okay,” she breathed. “Let me find my phone.”

  She dug for it with one hand while cupping my aching hard-on through my jeans with the other.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Multi-tasking.”

  I unlocked my front door and unzipped my jeans in the span of 1.7 seconds before pushing her inside. She was more interested in wrestling my cock out than finding her phone, so I took charge.

  I slammed the door and dumped her purse on the floor and kicked through the contents. She knelt down, and I thought she was going to pick up her phone, but then her mouth was on the crown, and her tongue was doing evil, beautiful things to the very sensitive underside.

  “Mars! You gotta warn a guy before you—oh, fuck.”

  I lost my balance and crashed back against the front door. The thump had Homer hurling himself down the stairs in a lather of barking and growling. From past experience, I knew it was dangerous to wave my wiener around when my dog was stirred up.

  He wasn’t a biter by nature, but I’d had a couple of close calls after Uncle Max had bought Homer a flesh-colored hot dog toy.

  “Marley, baby,” I pulled her to her feet and picked her phone off the floor. “I’m going to let Homer out. Text your parents. You’re not going home tonight.”

  She nodded, looking a little dazed and a lot happy. “Okay.”

  I jogged to the back of the house and sent Homer on his way into the backyard. “It might be a while, buddy,” I warned him.

  Homer trotted outside, tail wagging, not a care in the world.

  And I ran back inside to my lady.

  48

  Marley

  Me: Don’t wait up tonight!

  Mom: Wait up for what?

  Me: Me to come home.

  Mom: Why would
I do that? You’re almost 40.

  Me: I’m just saying I won’t be home tonight, and you shouldn’t worry.

  Mom: Why won’t you be home tonight??? Did something happen??? Are you okay?

  Me: Mom, I just said don’t worry.

  Mom: TELL ME WHAT NOT TO WORRY ABOUT!

  Me: I’m having sex with Jake. Okay? There. You made me say it. It’s your own fault, and now we can never make eye contact again. Don’t tell Dad.

  Mom: Have fun at Bible study, sweetie.

  Me: ???

  Mom: Just kidding! I’m a cool mom. Condoms are fun. Make good choices!

  “Everything all right?”

  I jumped, and my phone and purse slipped out of my grasp and landed on the floor in the pile of tampons, loose change, and other bottom-of-the-purse rubbish. Was that a whole candy bar or just the wrapper?

  Jake was standing at the foot of the stairs looking all kinds of sinful with his jeans still undone. His dark hair was a mess. His sleeves were pushed up, and there was a wild look in his eyes.

  He’d let Homer out into the backyard. It was just the two of us. Alone. Horny.

  The primitive, sexy time part of our brains must have taken over because, instead of picking up my phone or cleaning up the purse debris, I launched myself at him. He caught me in the air and crushed me against his chest, winding my legs around his hips.

  I decided I could cling to him permanently. His hand was in my hair, pulling it just hard enough for sparks to ignite on my scalp.

  “You drive me fucking crazy, Marley,” he said, pelting me with wild kisses. He used teeth and tongue as weapons, and I was only too happy to surrender. “I want to go slower this time,” he said.