I've always heard that women choose female partners because they are afraid of men, due to a childhood run-in with a bad man, but who do you turn to when that crashes down. A roommate?
I take a deep drag of my cigarette, letting the minty sensations flow down my throat to linger in my lungs. A vain attempt to fight against the pain surging from my possibly broken fingers.
“I’m so sorry Geoff,” Laura says as she hurriedly places a large bag of ice onto my purpling protruding pointables.
I hold back a screaming “FUCK!” by gritting my teeth and stamping my right leg sharply against the porch deck.
“Sorry, sorry.” Laura continues to chant, “I know Sheila didn’t mean to drop that toolbox on your hand.”
Laura always seems to want to defend Sheila, Laura’s “Boyfriend,” “Girlfriend," “Whatever Person.”
I take another deep drag from my cigarette. “Y'all are trying to kill me,” I reply with a mocking chuckle. Actually, the combination of the cold ice pack and chilling nicotine begins to soothe my throbbing digits.
“I’m sorry,” Laura says again.
“Its okay,” I reply.
At Least I got Sheila’s car fixed, and she can get that mythical job we’ve been hearing so much about for the last year.”
Sheila and Laura moved in with me a few years ago, and they seemed to be at the time good roommates. Since I lost my high paying factory job, I was forced to work at a local diner or lose my house, I became in need for financial help. So in exchange for living free, I took them in as roommates...it was a good tradeoff...at the time.
“I’m sure she will,” Laura says with a bit more optimism in her voice, than in her expression.
“I sure do hope so,” I say releasing a breath full of smoke, through clench teeth as Laura lifts up the ice pack to examine the swelling, placing it under my palm.
I try and clamp my injured hand down on the ice pack and find it unresponsive, so I pull the pack from Laura’s protesting hand.
“Where are you going?” Laura asks as I turn away from her walk to the front screen door.
“Alcohol,” I say, carefully pulling at the little u-shaped handle with my pinky while trying not to drop or butt out my cigarette.
“You know she can’t stand the smell of cigarettes in the house,” Laura calls after me as walk into the kitchen and lay my smoking stick on the rock countertop.
I scoff.
To be honest I could care less what Shelia can’t stand at the moment.
I walk into the kitchen and grab a near-empty bottle of Fireball. I try to unscrew the top. one-handed by pressing it against my stomach.
And sure as hell is hot
It slips across my side and shatters on the tile floor. I curse as the precious liquid spills out onto the floor, and my nostrils fill with that savory cinnamon scent.
“Dammit,” I say closing my eyes resting my head against the cool cabinet door, my head beginning to throb.
I hear the screen door creak as Laura opens it, and two thumps from the utility door as she pulls out a broom and dustpan.
“Thank you,” I say rolling my hips across the edge of the cabinet, shifting out of the way of the approaching bristles of the broom.
“It's okay, Geoff,” Laura says kneeling down before me to sweep up the glass into the dustpan. Pain shot into me again, but this time not from my hand...but a bit further south.
Laura has on a loose button up shirt which is a few sizes too big, so when she bends over her plump tits display themselves in full view.
She often doesn't wear a bra around the house, much to my cocks discomfort.
The hungry pull of my groin travels up my neck causing it to tickle. I writhe my neck to fight the sensation and turn away from her to hide my growing arousal.
“You need to put on a bra.” I blurt out, not thinking, and I instantly hear the brushing sounds stop as my ears begin to burn in embarrassment.
“I didn’t realize I was showing so much, I’m sorry,” Laura says buttoning up the rest of her shirt.
I replace the cigarette back into my mouth. “Don’t be...it's my fault for looking,” I say as I try and open the fridge for a beer. I find my new twelve pack of beer empty. A twinge of anger shoots through me as the fridge door bumps my bad hand, and in a fit of rage, I grab the empty box and violently toss it across the room.
“I just!” I growl, but I stop myself and try and calm down.
“I didn’t realize those were yours... Sheila drank that pack last night.” Laura says defensively a little taken aback at my outburst.
“I NEED!” I roar stop myself again and began to tear up as my fingers throb. I fight it, and turn away from her, before saying more quietly. “Something… to drink.”
I hear the tight material between Laura’s thighs rustle and I have to stretch out the sensations in my neck again.
“I have some Apple pie moonshine...if that will help,” Laura says stepping on the trash can opener and dumping the contents of the dustpan inside.
“That...that would be wonderful,” I say tossing down a kitchen towel onto the remnants of moisture on the floor.
I take one last puff as the flames lick into the filter and I put it out on the edge of the sink. Laura falls to her knees and reaches under the sink searching for something. After a quick hunt, she pulls out an unopened bottle of Arkansas Apple Pie Lightning. My mouth waters and my body growls for the taste of the painkiller. Laura raises up off the floor, her ass pops as she straightens out her back, and pulls out two glasses. One shot glass and a very tall glass.
For me I assume.
“Sit down, and try this,” Laura says pointing to the couch as she began pouring liquid relaxation into the cup.
I sit down with a grimace as I replace the ice bag to the top of my hand. Laura waits until I settle into the couch comfortably before handing me the liquor. She hands me the large cup and I drain it in two guzzles.
“Shit, hurting that bad?” Laura says filling the cup up again.
I nod and drain it again, but this time my mouth burns a bit, and I have to blow out some air to cool the sides of my mouth. My eyes begin to feel heavy as the warming sensations quickly fill my gut.
“That's some good stuff,” I say through closed eyes. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Laura replies tipping the glass again into my cup. “My mother bought it for my birthday last month.”
“Shit, I shouldn’t be drinking this,” I say now feeling bad for drinking up her present. “I’ll buy you another.”
“It's okay,” Laura says pouring herself another shot. “You needed this more than I probably ever would.”
I drain another, and she again fills it up to the top this time, but I find my body isn't willing to consume it all at once this time.
“You seemed sad today,” Laura says observing my usual defensive coating melting away with the alcohol.
“Well...I hurt my hand.” I manage to bumble out.
“No, not your hand, your heart,” she says pressing me again.
I laugh. “What are you getting at?”
“What happened with Paige?” She asks. Laura asks just the right question to cause my chest to tighten.
“Who?” I ask trying to play coy, which doesn't seem to hide much when your drunk.
“Paige… your girlfriend.” Laura continues.
“I don’t know, haven’t…” I hiccup. “Haven't talked with her in almost a year or so.”
The room was silent, for some reason and it began to stretch on too long.
“Little more?” I ask tipping my empty glass her way. She smiles and pours a bit more into my glass until it caresses the bottom of the bottle, and she stops to pours herself one last shot.
“When's the last time you…?” Laura began to ask but stops short.
“Hmm?” I ask my eyes now closed my mind starting to drift.
“The last time you’ve been on a date?” Laura asks finally.
My eyes remain closed and I shrug. “Maybe a year or so ago.”
“What!” she says sounding amazed. “Why?”
“I don’t know, most women feel threatened I guess,” I mumble out.
“You don't seem threatening, you’ve always been sweet to us,” she replies.
I down the last of the lightning and drop the empty glass into my lap. “Not of me, of y’all.”
Laura laughs for a second then falls quiet. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m a man...with no car, working at a dinner for chump change while living with two women.” I laugh. “People probably think I’m a bum or a drug dealer since Sheila doesn’t work and you have a part-time gig as an entertainer...I guess they think I’m…”
“Fucking us.” She says her vocal sounding emotions unreadable.
I shrug again.
“Perhaps.” I laugh studying the empty glass my eyesight blurring more dangerously. “I'm not that kind of man.”
“I know,” Laura says.
“Maybe I should be… be a different person.” I say rotating the glass in my right hand.
“No, you are a good guy.” laura protests. standing up to hand me another cigarette and placing it in my mouth.
“Thank you,” I say through the gap of my lips as she lights it up.
I take another deep drag and the couch seems to swell up around me, cradling me.
“I… would... love to take you to bed…” I say eyes closing sleep threatening to take me. “perhaps… if she comes back without a job… you could pay… some other way.”
There is a silence.
“With some head?” I hear a distant voice ask.
“Hmm.”
“With some pussy?”
I groan, as my cock stirs.
I drift in the void for a few seconds and feel lips against my ear say. “Maybe I will.”
I wake up.
It’s dark outside.
Loud voices itch my ears, stirring me further from sleep’s embrace.
I try and lift myself from the bed, but find I’m much too heavy. so I just lay back and try to listen. I begin to make out Sheila’s voice, and she seems to be shouting as per usual. Only this time Laura is screaming back at her; making Sheila’s voice reach even higher decibels.
Then I hear something that wakes me up instantly, I hear Shelia’s meaty fist strike Laura. My blood pressure rises, the pain in my hand causes my eyes to go squishy, as I try with all my might to lift my dead drunk lunk off the mattress. I hear more flesh to flesh contact, and a shattering glass followed by a thud that shakes the floor.
I raise completely off the mattress, and open my bedside table and pull out my grandfather's revolver. I hear Laura sobs fall silent. I wobble to the door and pull it open with the sole of my foot.
“HEY BITCH!” I shout down the hall at Sheila. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Sheila does exactly what I thought she would, and storms down the hall towards me ready for a fight, but stops dead as she sees the revolver pointing at her.
I cock the hammer. “What did I say, cunt!” I state more than ask, sounding much calmer and soberer than I felt.
She slowly retreats back out of the house, and I hear the slam of the screen door as she left. I uncock the hammer, slide it onto my pants pocket, and stumble down the hall toward Laura’s room.
As I round the corner I see her, she seems to have fallen into the center of her glass coffee table. The left side of her face is as purple as my hand, and her shirt which I had found sexy, is now completely torn revealing her bruised breasts. They don’t seem to be as arousing now since they have glass all over them, and blood streaks from her lip and eye covering them.
“Shit,” I swear as I stumble into the room. “What the fuck Laura?”
She didn’t respond...the hell. I wobble over to her with my head swimming, I begin to search her body for puncture wounds. After a quick search, thankfully I find only find surface scratches.
I gently start clearing the broken glass out from around her, and once done, I pull a blanket from her lounge chair. I tuck it around her the best I could, and with my buggered up hand, I begin to pull her free.
I wrap my bad hand around her neck and fight back cascading nausea. Even in my drunkenness, I am somehow able to lift her hundred forty pounds. I manage to lay her down as easily as my drunk self could muster. I slowly make my way to the front door using my shoulder against the wall as support, my wobbly legs needing extra support.
Once there, I see Sheila left her keys on the counter. I pick them up and struggle with the clip, in an attempt to remove the house key. I wrestle it free before I deposit it into the drawer with the knives, and stumble to the front door; that Sheila left hanging wide open.
I open the screen door and toss out Sheila’s keys. I watch them as they soar out into the darkness.
I shut the door and lock it. I also take the time to secure the door, further its stability with a metal door brace. I turn back to the kitchen, my vision swims again uncontrollably, and I fall to my knees. I bend over clutching my bad hand to my chest and using my other to hold myself up.
In a moment or two, I gather the strength to climb up onto my feet. I reach the sink and hold onto it for dear life as I began to ride another wave. I look up at the mirrored backsplash and see my eyes rolling in my head.
I decide to put a couple fingers down my throat, to force out some of the liquor from my stomach. My stomach convulses a few times, refusing to relinquish the lightning, but I continue to push my persuasive fingers. After a few thunderous lurches, the lightning zaps the bottom of the sink, striking the same spot more than twice.
A few painful seconds of being a human faucet, and then relief. I kick on the water to wash away the sick, and shovel some of the water from the flow into my mouth to rinse out any remnant of foul flavor.
I wash my hands, wring them off on my clothes. I open the cabinet above the sink, to retrieve some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and Bactine spray.
I walk to Laura's room and see her eye and lip still bleeding. I grab a couple of cotton balls and cover the head of the bottle, before tossing it to the side and then back to soak the cotton.
I dab at the wounds and it slowly washes the blood away. The more I dab the wound the less the blood flow would erupt until It finally stops altogether. I re-dip the fresh cotton and clean the rest of her face.
Once I finish cleaning, I spray the cotton with the Bactine and apply it to the gashes above her eye and her lip. Now satisfied with the cleaning I stood up and position myself on the opposite side the bed. I roll the blankets ends a few times and grip the blanket, and use it as a makeshift stretcher.
Once she is laying in the middle of the bed I roll her off the blanket and unbutton her blouse, blood had now soaked through the shirt and her pants. I start to wriggle her out of her blouse, causing her tits to shake and bounce, stirring up my hunger again until her shoulders gave up the fight. I am able to pull the shirt free.
Now that her shirt is off I can work on extracting her from her pants. I grab the lip of cotton just above her pants button and give it a quick pull. It easily comes free but exposes her tangles underneath. I tug at the feet of her pants until her vagina is showing.
Its light pink, lighter than her olive skin and is sporting a rather large clit...I mean it is the size of my thumb big. I wait for a few seconds to clear my head, the temptation to touch her becoming harder. once it passes I pull the pants the rest of the way until they’re completely free of her.
My mind shot out a thought, across the bow about taking her clit into my mouth and then fucking her. I allow the disgusting thought to splash and sink in the sea.
I drop the clothes in the waste paper basket and go into her bathroom, in search of a rag to wet and some bandages. I rummage around the rat’s nest of haircare and beauty items until I find a clean rag and some small bandaids. I return, and she has curled up into a ball. I roll her over returning her to her previous position and she groans in protest.
I laugh off my stress for her well being. I slowly wash off her battered body, the clean skin slowly reveals small chill bumps which began to arouse me but I shake my head to toss away those thoughts. I clean her hips, belly, and her breasts. When I clean the specks of glass and blood free of them, her nipples slowly stand to attention and she moans groggily.
“God...help me,” I mumble as I wipe the last of the crimson free of her flesh. I grab the Bactine bottle again and spritz her chest and belly before covering her up with an extra blanket from the window seat. As soon as the material lay upon her, she snuggles it and turns again to her side. I place a pillow against her back to keep her warm before I walk out of her room.
I spot myself in her mirror on the way out. I notice all the blood covering my arms, face, clothes, the bulge from the 38...and the other gun. I look like I am a survivor from a horror movie.
I make my way to the bathroom and pull off my shirt, dropping it on the floor, and then shaking off my pants. I leave them against the bathroom wall. I start a bath, feeling as though my body would be too exhausted to stand for a shower. I cup my hand under the faucet, waiting for the cold water to grow warm. I drop in the stopper and slide myself into its warm loving embrace.
I watch the water lap around my nakedness. The crimson liquid slowly leaches into the clean pure water threatening to taint it. My hips fall below the waterline, I turn the water off, and close my eyes.
A knock at the door startles me, and I shiver in cold water.
“Geoff, you okay?” Laura asks from the other side of the door.
I make a move to sit up, my body now sore and shriveled from the water, and grab for a towel but can't seem to reach it.
“Yeah...I fell asleep in the tub.” I reply as she opens the door. “Wait I'm not decent.”
she continues through the door despite my protests and walks in completely nude.
“Its okay,” she says. “I can’t see your pruney dick anyway.”
She doesn’t seem to be lying either, both her eyes are swollen up like a Kingyo fish, and her upper lip looks like she took way too many shots of collagen.
“Damn Laura,” I say concern etchings my words. “You need me to take you to the hospital?”
She stumbles around looking for the toilet and then finds it and sits down before letting out a vast amount of piss and a sigh. She leans against the wall while the last remnant of liquid leaves her body. “No.”
“I did the best I could,” I say apologetically. “I was just too drunk to do much else.”
“I know you did Geoff.” Laura sobs tears somehow squeezing their way from her swollen eyes.
“What...what happened?” I ask resting my good hand on her knee, she takes it into her hand and grips it.
“Sheila... wasn’t going to get a job.” Laura chokes out. “She was going to see someone else.”
“Wow, that's mind-blowing Laura,” I say incredulously. Even now, she is all beaten and bruised she looks sexy as hell...why would anyone cheat on her.
“Why?” Is the only thing I could think to say or ask.
Laura shrugs, removes her hand from mine, and gently wipes her swollen eyes free of tears.
“You are kind, smart, and… sexy.” I say and she scoffs at the last statement. “No really I know that...and can see the latter.”
“Oh get out of the tub and go dry off you perv.” She laughs. I shakily get out of the cold water. A shiver bites me as the air assaults my wet skin.
I go to grab a towel near the end of the counter and go into the hall. Letting the bathroom door close behind me. I use the towel to shew away the cold with an armada of dry cotton.
Once I'm dry I open the closet and pull out a shirt. As I do, I hear Laura get up from the toilet. The seat has a tendency to stick to the users bum if you sit on it too long, and hear it drop down loudly.
I grab one of her shirts and a pair of her pajamas. The toilet flushes and I hear her fumbling with the shower curtain.
“You need help,” I ask. Not sure if I am welcome to come back into the room to see her nakedness.
There is a pause.
“Yes… I need help.”
I reopen the door, and I see her on her knees. Her tits sway, as she blindly reaches for the water drain, which still holds back all the water.
I forgot to let out.
I place our clothes on the counter and rest my good hand on her hip to indicate.
That I’ll get it.
She slowly shifts her butt until it rests onto the floor.
I tug the stopper out with my bad hand, I listen to the drain gurgle as it sucks out the pink water.
I feel fingers trespass my inner thigh, sending a throb into my groin, gaining my instant attention.
I quickly grab it.
“What are you doing.” I huff as my dick begins to fill with blood.
“Sorry I didn't think you were that close…” She says innocently. Making gestures with her hands that she needs help getting up. My body tingles as my good hand grapples her under her arm and I pull her to her feet. Her skin feeling like velvet under my fingers.
She stumbles a bit and I wrap my hands around her waist. I inhale sharply as there is a loud pop from my bad hand, and fresh pain erupts from within it.
“Shit Geoff, was that your hand?” she asks, stabilizing herself against the wall.
“Yeah, but it's feeling better now,” I say as the pain begins to subside, and I do indeed begin to feel better.
I release her and guide her into the shower towards the back of the tub, so when I release the water from the showerhead, the cold water doesn’t give her a quick shock. As soon as the water begins to warm, she automatically traverses into the falling water.
My dick roars, as I watch the water bounce off her skin. Her breasts shake as she runs her fingers into the grains of her scalp.
I begin to close the curtain and make to leave, but she stops me. “I need you to get in here, I'm feeling dizzy.” She says grabbing ahold of shower brace and rests her body against the wall.
“I’m not so sure this is a good idea,” I say feeling my cocks becoming more erect by the second.
“Please, I'm not feeling good.” She whines sounding pitiful and innocent.
“Fine,” I say going against my better judgment...and the painful pulse from my manhood.
I grab a towel, to wrap it around myself to keep “IT” from grazing onto her, and hopefully keep me in control.
I step into the tub, take up a defensive stance behind her, so I can grab her if she falls. She turns toward me, resting her head on my chest and wraps her arms around my back. I feel like I may start to hyperventilate.
My starved body now being held for the first time in almost a year... her tits... squishing themselves against me... isn’t helping much.
“Calm down Geoff.” Laura says, patting my back. “relax.”
“Sorry.” I croak out trying to relax and I find, after a few minutes, that my all muscles are clenching up so much they are beginning to become sore.
I have to force them to loosen, and after a few moments, I feel like a burden is lifting free from my shoulders.
I take a deep breath and sigh, absorbing the warm water while being held by a beautiful woman. I rest my chin atop of her head and close my eyes.
I feel her kneading her fingers into my back sending pulses to my dick enthralling it further. she massages a little stronger, pushing them in deeper causing a groan to escape my throat.
“Feel better?” she asks while reaching up behind my back with her hands, gripping my shoulder muscles, before rubbing all the way down my back. Settling them near the edge of my towel. My cock protests against the cloth cage that is holding it at bay.
“We are injured…” I say the muscles in my stomach and chest growing tighter.
“We are,” she says in agreement before kissing along my chest, stopping to put my nipple into her mouth, and biting it softly. I have grown and step back a little bit.
“We shouldn't be doing this now,” I say my body shaking. Not only from need but from the cold air but because I’m retreating away from the warm flow of water.
“You aren’t thinking clearly,” I say. “I...I don’t want to be…”
“What?” she asks crossing her arms under her breasts.
“I like you, but you're going through something and I don’t want to be used...or use you,” I say.
“I...don’t mean this to be like that,” she says reaching out and pulls me back into the warm water.
Laura resets her head against my chest, re-embracing me, her hands return to my hips and their venture down. My member slams aggressively against the cloth wall.
Her hands stop at the brim of my covering. She kisses my chest and sends probing fingers under the material while using her thumbs to grip my hip muscles. In a short few seconds, the material breaks loose and falls away. Springing forth all my desire, freeing its meaty prisoner.
She stays quiet for a few minutes, exploring my cocks curves and veins, like others have before… but she seems hesitant.
She silently rubs the head, sending shivers across my body, her hand begins its trip down the bottom side of my shaft. I feel it...travel up the top of her wrist, then up her forearm stopping at the bend in her arm...and with a twist to the side, it ventures slightly past her elbow.
“What's wrong?” I ask. She hesitates, I become unnerved waiting for her answer.
“It's...a bit too much.” she breathes.
“What do you mean?” I say nervously. Her tone shifting into like that of someone unsure of their decision.
“I don’t know,” she says a sounding a little disappointed. “I...don’t think this is gonna work…”
My guts feel like they’ve begun to tie themselves into knots, and my throat felt as dry as ash. I step back, away from the cascading water, before turning and leaving the shower. She didn’t say anything as I begin to shoo away the water on my body with a towel, and once dry I grab my clothes, before leaving the bathroom with her now leaning against the shower wall.
My hunger now turning bitter in my stomach, I need to get out of the house; my legs feel restless. I retrieve my pants from Laura's room and slide into them, securing my 38 in my right pocket before I climb into my shirt.
I return to my room and pull on my boots, belt, and my grandfather's shoulder holster in which I deposit the pistol into. Before leaving the house, I decide to grab my camo jacket seeing frost on the windows. My smokes still lay on the coffee table, the lighter safely snuggling up in the plastic sleeve like a little marsupial. I light one up before walking out the door. I look and check to see Sheila’s car is gone, and am delighted that it is, I lock the door and leave to clear my mind.
I walk back to the house about two and a half hours later, my body feeling sore and my good hand lugging a bag filled with the bare necessities. Cigarettes, wrist brace, Bactine, and pain pills.
No stores seem to carry a brace for the whole hand, a serious marketing hole I think. I round the corner of my street and see two cop cars and Sheila in my driveway.
“What the fuck,” I mumble annoyance grasping me firmly. I look over to my neighbor's house and see his light is on. Paul is an old guy and has been my friend since I was a teen, so I crossed the block toward his place; praying not to be spotted.
Once across I thank God, I walk behind Paul’s fenced off backyard, concealing me further. I round the gate and hear Wishes come out and bark a few times before scratching and bumping up against the fence door.
“That you Geoff?” I hear Paul ask before I can get to the main door unlatched.
I laugh. That old man doesn't miss a beat. “Yeah, it's me, Paul.”
I open the gate, I'm under the immediate barrage of doggie kisses and full body tackles. I take some time to give Wishes love before slowly making my way to Paul while trying not to be toppled by her.
“What's with the Law at your place?” Paul asks sipping from his iconic “Stud Muffin” coffee mug.
“Not sure, could be multiple things,” I say. “Probably one.”
I free myself from my jacket and unclip my shoulder holster, and give it to Paul.
“Good thinking,” Paul says taking the bundle from me and depositing it in his soup cabinet. “Them cops likely to shoot ya for wearing that, whether you’re certified or not.”
“Yeah, I figure,” I reply.
“So, what's this about kid?” Paul asks sitting in the armchair next to the window and switching off the lamp. I take a seat next to him so I can just see the show without worry of being seen, and begin telling him everything...except the sexual encounter stuff.
“I reckon she is trying to spin this as you attacking Laura instead of her.” He says sounding a little grumpy. “Perhaps you should stay here till they leave.”
I shake my head. “They will be back one way or another, best just go talk to ‘em. I'm not armed and you have my gun so it won't be stolen if I get arrested for some bull shit charge.”
“Which will probably happen.” He says taking another sip of coffee as we watch the fiasco. Laura comes out of the house now still bruised up, in her pajamas and a thick blanket draped around her shoulders. She began to argue with Shelia in front of the police. The officers move to split them up and question Laura, a female officer examining her wounds.
“You know that hand isn't going to go in your favor,” Paul says pointing out my braced hand and the purple knuckles.
“Yeah, I know...but I’m right handed officer,” I say in a mocking tone.
Paul rolls his eyes and smirks.
...and that's pretty much how it went for the first ten minutes or so, Sheila’s story about my handgun fell flat after some searching. Not until Laura’s and my statements corroborated one another. Thankfully now the one sitting in the back of a cop car... wasn’t me, but Sheila. Ironic really, I stood there for a bit watching a bit stunned I wasn't going to jail for a nutty charge.
I wear an ear to ear grin at the curb as Sheila's “cab" turns left at the end of the street and out of site. I turn to look at Laura, she’s observing me through her squinting eyes, which glint in the humming street light. Noticing me, she clutches her blanket tighter around herself and walks into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her.
I fish into my bag and retrieve something to smoke, but as soon as it touches my lips I find I'm just too damn tired to smoke it. I cross the yard and mount the steps. Once inside, I lock up once again and head to my room passing near Laura's room. Her light is still on and I stop. My dick grumbles but my stomach still feels sick for being rejected. I decide to let my desire fade and return to my room.
I open the door and close it behind me. The bed looks so alluring I just crawl on top of it; my clothes and boots still on. I reach over and flick on my heating pad since my room tends to get frigid at night… It does wonders, though it's not as good as a woman.
I lay watching the shadows of the trees dance across my ceiling, and drift slowly to sleep.
I begin to dream, one of those dreams that seem almost too real for words.
I get the sensation of hands running up and down my legs gently tugging my boots free of my body. I hear the clattering of something metal and then feel a soft grip on my wrists. My arms then get a means of transport to my barred headboard, coupling with tight grips of metal upon them. My arms protest against the binding for a moment until they become comfortable.
Then comes the excruciatingly slow unzipping of my jacket, hands massage my chest and shoulders. I groan as the hands grip my sore trapezius muscles. The sensations stay there for a while longer, until they become restless, and venture forth exploring further. I feel my shirt lift just enough for them to saunter through my tufts of hair, and gently clasp at my muscles.
This, in turn, causes my hips to shift uncomfortably due to my erection being constrained behind my ever-tightening pants. The hands seem to notice this because I feel the button atop my pants pop free, and the zipper sliding down thereafter, just enough to ease some of my discomforts before it wanders yet again across my hips, fluctuating its grip on my skin, all while sliding down my pants. My cock pulsates wildly, dragging across the hairs on my stomach.
The hands leave my body for a while, I feel my dick spring up several times off my stomach, as though beckoning the hands back. Lips, out of nowhere, gently brush my balls near the shaft. My Throbbing flesh raises up quickly, making contact with the side of someone's face.
The hand returns with a giggle, and forces down my greedy member, before continuing the teasing nips and pulls against my skin. It stops again, and I wait impatiently, automatically forcing my penis to spasm against the hand, testing its restraints it has over me. The lips seem to grow annoyed because they part and fangs protrude out of them and bite into one of my balls. I let out a deep groan, one that hasn't escaped my lips in years, and I almost wake up from my slumber.
The lips and hands disappear, as I swim in and out of consciousness. I fall back into sleep and the bed sinks under a weight. I feel the dastardly hand return thighs wrap themselves around me, and then breasts pressing against my shirt.
A hand slides down between our bodies and angles me into a warm wet hole. It's so damn heavenly and tight I have to hold back a scream of pleasure, strong enough that it would surely have rocked me out of this blissful slumber. I feel it sink in, and become lodged against a shallow wall. My hips react, perhaps too savagely, and thrust upwards in a vain attempt to swallow itself up inside the pocket further.
Two hands this time react, pressing firmly against my stomach. The legs constrict around me and the hand grips my flesh harder as though in anger or annoyance. The hole stays still, unmoving as a silent protest to my earlier assault. the fingers gripping me loosen and the legs unlock their clamp. I feel the weight shift again and breasts move up my shirt as the woman relaxes. Her arms wrap themselves under my shoulder blades. The breasts rest just shy of my chin, and soon after her head rests beside my own.
Once acclimated upon me, her hips gently churning against my pain. My head swims, and the motion sends my thoughts back in time, of a little stream I visited as a boy. A beautiful little river called the Cossatot. Its peacefully crisp waters glide over the river rocks that dwells just beneath its surface. Her soothing groans and breathing resemble the cheerful burbling river.
In my mind, I stand at the water's edge. Remembering my youth, of trying to toss rocks across to the other side… I’d pick up a few stones and contemplate tossing the stones into the water. I decide I will skip one of them swiftly across the crystal clear surface. I feel a pull from my loins as I wind up a good solid throw.
I whip it out across the river. The first toss skips twice before sinking below its surface. The second drop just short of the other. I grab my last rock, look at the other side of the bank and then I haul back and toss it as hard as I can muster. It goes farther, and I watch it shatter against the rocky hillside with a pop that I felt more than heard.
I feel my body tip as I overthrow and stumble towards the warm waters, I try and brace myself against the fast approaching ground but my hands seem locked above my head, an “Oh shit.” erupts from the fog, but not from my mouth.
I blink my cloudy eyes in the near blackness and make out a shape of a woman atop me. I try to raise up from the bed, but my wrists reply with a painful bite. I test the restraints them unmoving, also I find I have a bar gag in my mouth, I begin to feel panic well up within me. I feel warm liquid rolling down my balls and the tightness of a condom around its circumference.
Someone is lying flat against my chest, out of breathtaking large gobs of air. once its lungs fill with enough oxygen it raises up and continues to ride me. My dick screams at the over stimulation. The waves of ecstasy leave me replacing themselves with stress.
“HMMM!” I try and scream through the muzzle as the shadow began to rise and fall more violently upon my dick, sending shockwaves of post cum pain through my groin.
The shadow doesn’t seem to hear or care for my cries, it just continues its assault. I writhe against the body and try and shift sideways in hopes of bucking off my attacker. The Shadow reacts swiftly grabbing my chest and pressing it down. I continue to squirm as the shadow forces more of my length into itself letting a cry escape its lips.
A moan mindlessly escapes me when the shadow randomly swoops down, bares its fangs, and gnaws at my collarbone. The rhythm intensifies, as I feel my dick grinding against the back of the shadow’s pussy and my balls get ready to explode. I lock up, my toes curl, and… the shadow stops moving.
I groan against the bar. A barrage guttural noises announce my body's annoyance with the turn of events. I try and buck, but her legs stiffen causing me to not get the friction I need. The edging sensation flees from me leaving me with frustration and an angry dick.
The shadow sensing my coming release having been thwarted begins pistoning my cock in and out of her once again. maddeningly slow at first, then in time she begins gaining momentum, roughly jabbing my dick deep into her cunt. The shadow begins to grunt, as though through clenching teeth, at the impact against its walls. The grunts turn to moans, as liquid begins to flow out more freely down my cock, I can see it glistening in the dim light.
“Oh fuck.” moans the shadow, and I am pleasantly grateful the shape belongs to Laura, as she leans back grabbing my knees as she cums on my dick.
Even with the condom on I can feel the muscles inside her contract and squirm. I shift uncomfortably against the handcuffs my wrist beginning to hurt and my swollen hand begins to throb painfully.
She notices my discomfort and in a few moments of her fumbling in the covers beside us, I see a shimmer of silver. Laura's breasts slap me across the face as she leans down to unclasp the sore hand, but before I can pull my hands free completely, she secures the loosened cuff around my other wrist.
I reach down to remove the gag, but she grabs my hand and tenderly sucks each finger, before turning it over and nibbling each fleshy part of my palm. The sensation makes me grind and buck, and when she sinks her teeth in my wrist I cry out against the gag. She giggles at my pleasure and releases my hand.
I reach up, again try to take off the gag, but she stops all her movement before saying. “Take off that gag and I'll stop fucking you.”
I groan a protest then lay my hand uselessly to the side.
“Good boy.” She laughs, adjusting her legs so she was in a sitting position atop me. The change in position lands me square on her g spot, I can feel my bent dick pushing firmly against the spongy patch of skin. She half grinds, half drops herself against my shaft, sending a bit of pain into me. My dick not being used to such acrobatics, especially when so erect, causes me to groan painfully and bite down on the gag.
“Juss… just hold… on.” She stammers out as she prepares to cum again atop my dick. She shoots out onto my belly and nether regions as she squirts. She rises off my cock, letting it slap down onto my wet belly, and collapses backward on the bed. Her back landing between my legs, and ass squishing my balls.
My dick throbs from the bending and the fury of not releasing yet. I impatiently wait for her to recover from her spasms, hoping she will stop using me like a toy, and just fuck the come out of me.
“That was…” she mumbles out, in wheezing breaths. “Your dick is a nice toy, albeit a bit too big for my tastes.”
She rolls off of me and bounces off the bed. I growl in warning, feeling like I'm about to lose my mind.
“Don't growl at me,” she says strolling into my bathroom, I hear the toilet seat drop with a clatter, as she began to take a piss. “You want me to make you come?”
I grunt in acknowledgment.
“Why should I?” she replies in a cute little voice.
I growl again.
“Oh, what you gonna do,” she says while I hear my shower turn on. “ Maybe I should just take my time in here.”
I jank at the cuffs, causing them to clatter against the bars of the headboard. She replies to my frustration by stepping into the shower. I hear the pellets of water bounce off her smooth, tight body. I turn to my side looking for the key. My thoughts roam, I think about violently shoving my painfully throbbing cock down her fucking throat; it began fueling my search.
“Oh, you looking for these?” Laura calls as keys clatter on the floor. I groan and lay back in defeat.
I'm beginning to feel like I'm at my wit's end waiting, that is until she turns the shower off and she steps out. Light breaks through the window in the bathroom, and I can make out her shape in the dull glow. Her breasts bounce freely, as she stretches to free a dry cloth from the top of my linen rack. They look so thick and full. I bite down and growl to myself.
“Patience horsie” she giggles again. “I’ll take care of you...if you're a good boy.”
I play along, desperate for the need between my legs to be satiated. I whimper like a dog.
She erupts in laughter.
Her hips and legs sparkle with condensation before she rolls it away with a towel. She wets a rag in the sink and returns to me.
The bed bends as she sits on the side cleaning my skin free of her releases with the warm rag. She rounds the base of my shaft and rests the rag on my aching balls, and pinches the condom, then pulling it off.
“You have a really big cock, Geoff.” Laura says complimenting me, I groan as she pulls my sore member towards her.. “You ready to pop?”
I growl showing my teeth jokingly.
She opens her mouth and produces her tongue, She stares at me for a few seconds, and then teasingly slaps the underside of my head against it.
Once, My guts feel like jelly.
Twice, my balls roll up like taffy.
Third, I begin to melt into her as she forces half of me into her mouth.
My body convulses and I try not to come in her mouth, past lovers hated it. She seems to sense my hesitation and moans as she begins sucking it deeper and with more vigor. My toes curl, the long-dormant juices threaten to boil over.
Her mouth loosens as her tongue rhythmically slides back and forth across my cock. Her mischievous hand appears and encircles my meat in a tight grip. Feeling my release seconds away I groan in warning. She releases her lips from its previous embrace. The first few jets get shot into her mouth, but those that follow spray all over her face and breasts. I let out a deep groan as loads of frustration pours out of me. After such a tormenting wait...I admit it...I fell asleep.