Long Schlong Silver

by Kade, Teagan

  I’m not entirely sure why I brought her here. Putting a downer on the morning wasn’t my plan, not that she seems perturbed. I turn the ignition over, the truck rumbling back to life. “We’ll see.”

  I steer back onto the road and head towards town, new thought forming at a place in my head that has long been dormant.

  *

  We swing by the diner quickly. Given it’s close to lunch, I convince Gisele to try the Ratburger. She exclaims, with a dot of mayo on her upper lip, it’s like the lovechild of a Whopper and Big Mac, and that the ‘rat’ is “pretty damn delicious.”

  I wipe the mayo away and keep on smiling, try to snapshot this moment in my head for later.

  Outside, we bump into a nerdy guy by the name of Randell Coulsen I used to go to school with.

  “Bobby,” he says reaching to shake my hand, “how’s the bachelor life treating you?”

  Ol’ Randell’s got six kids and another on the way, a real menagerie of incoming molars and a messy-as-fuck minivan. Poor bastard probably thinks I’m living the life, particularly given the way he can’t seem to keep his eyes off Gisele.

  There’s a whip-hot flare of jealously that rises up when I catch him checking out her cleavage, but I let it simmer back down and reply, “It’s not so grand.”

  He smiles, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Really? ’Cause it seems to me like sitting on the river there with a whole line of ladies ain’t a bad way to live a life.”

  “Well, I guess you’ve got to learn to appreciate what you have before, you know, time makes you appreciate what you had.”

  I think it largely goes over his head, but he smiles all the same. “Huh,” he says simply.

  I take Gisele’s hand and walk us away, giving him a quick salute goodbye. “Say hi to the fam, Randell.”

  Gisele takes my arm. “My, my, if it isn’t Bobby the Wise.”

  “The quote?” I laugh. “Think I saw it on a bumper sticker somewhere.”

  “So you don’t believe it?”

  We stop at the roadside, waiting to cross. A truck with a giant confederate flag whipping out the back blasts by, Justin Bieber’s Bad Guy remix a strange choice of music to be cranking. “I believe it,” I tell Gisele, “but I don’t really think I’m practicing what I preach, so to speak.”

  She pulls me closer. “But you’d like to?”

  I almost spill the full daydream, picket fence, piña coladas and all, but I hold my tongue. “With the right woman by my side.”

  She points to herself. “Yours truly?”

  I scrunch up my face. “Mmm, I was thinking someone taller, maybe?”

  She slaps me in the chest. “Stop it, you, otherwise I’ll walk.”

  “Where?” I laugh.

  She reaches down and squeezes my balls, hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “Right over these bad boys, pop them like plump little grapes.”

  “They’re… not… little,” I wince out. She lets go, an elderly couple walking on the other side of the road looking a touch bemused by it all.

  “It’s fine,” I call out, raising my hand. “I keep a spare set in my back pocket.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  GISELE

  Perhaps the ball-squeezing was a bit much given the way Bobby’s hobbling beside me, but it was also piss-your-panties funny given the way he went from burly man to choir boy in the space of seconds.

  It’s a beautiful day to be out in town, a clear sky above so seamless it’s like you could pull it down and wrap it around your shoulders.

  “God, what a day,” I announce.

  Bobby sniffs the air. “Going to storm, though.”

  I look up at the sky again. “Bullshit. It’s crystal clear.”

  He taps the side of his nose. “Trust me.”

  We walk slowly, an old married couple more or less. “You’re sure you’re not into sadomasochism?” Bobby asks. “I’ve seen those heels of yours. If you’re thinking about putting them anywhere near my boys, you b—”

  I place my finger on his lips. “I’ll admit doing it rough is a bit of a fantasy of mine, really being ‘taken,’ you know?”

  He stops, stepping in front of me, his face all shadow. “Are you being serious?”

  “Deadly.” I shrug. “Why? Do you want to oblige?”

  He takes my arm again, walking us past a barber shop that looks like something out of a Stephen King novel. “I don’t think you could handle it, to be honest. You put on this tough-girl persona, but that kind of thing? It takes a special kind of crazy.”

  I laugh aloud. “I wasn’t asking for a palm reading. Could you do it? If I wanted you to?” I add.

  I can see his interest has been aroused. “How rough are we talking? The full fifty shades or just the first twenty or so?”

  I mull it over, licking my lips at the thought of being restrained and completely at the mercy of Long Schlong Silver himself, free to be used and fucked and taken time and time again to orgasm. It’s a delicious thought.

  We pass an alleyway and I suppress the urge to pull him in there and go at it right then and there. “You decide.”

  We stop in front of a toy store window. There’s a fine layer of dust over the motley collection of toys gathered there. I see our reflection in the window and it’s true: We really look like an old married couple, but more than that we look happy, genuinely happy, to be in each other’s company.

  I can’t remember the last time I felt like this, if ever. I’m so comfortable around Bobby, so myself and not the robo-woman I’ve become doing this job for so long. It’s built a layer of thick skin around me, a sort of leather I’ve worn for far too long. The client’s calling and I’m ignoring, because fuck him, and the stupid job, I’m busy. Besides, bringing in that team, going over my head, was a step too far.

  I laugh a little at the thought, Bobby raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

  “You have many toys as a kid?” he asks.

  “Like I said, we were sort of scant on money back then,” I reply. “But I made do, as industrious kids can.”

  “You still consider yourself industrious?”

  “Of course, though my wants and needs have changed somewhat over the years. And yours?”

  “They seem to have come full circle.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I wanted a do-over,” he explains, “to live my life again, but now, I simply want to live.”

  I shake my head, staring at him. “Seriously, are you the same guy I met a couple of days ago, that pretentious kind of cock-swinging asshole who didn’t give a damn about anyone? Because he seems to have left the building and been replaced by,” I gesture at his body in full, “wise Gerard Butler here.”

  “Gerard Butler? The guy from the movie about the terrorists storming the White House?”

  I’m smiling with smug satisfaction. “He attended the Glasgow School of Law, you know, was actually president of the university law society. Of course, his father passed away in his final year, leading to a wild turn of lifestyle that saw him dismissed before qualifying to practice.”

  “Should I be worried about this guy? You got him on speed-dial?”

  I run my hands up his chest, my breath hot on his neck. “I’m saying you can’t judge a book by its cover. I did, and I’m sorry.”

  He holds me, allowing me to enjoy the dual warmth of the sun and his body against mine. “It sounds like you’re trying to say a whole lot more here.”

  “Only that you’re full of surprises.”

  I look at the shops over his shoulder, breaking away and pointing across the street. “What’s that over there, near the thrift shop?”

  Bobby has to squint against the sun. “The old arcade?”

  “Arcade?”

  “You know, video games and stuff, pinball. Used to burn a lot of quarters there back in the day, but the kids these days don’t use it. Too busy vaping and vlogging to care about classic gaming.”

  I squeeze his side, steering us over. “Sh
all we?”

  “Play?” he asks.

  “It is the highest form of research,” I reply. “Come on. You haven’t had your ass kicked enough for one day.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  BOBBY

  I pull inside. The place is deserted, the front windows blacked out, basically pitch black except for a lonely lightbulb hanging from the roof and the lights from the machines.

  Gisele runs her fingers through her hair, drawing it into a quasi-ponytail and laying it on her shoulder. “Wow, talk about a time warp.”

  I stop in the middle of the arcade with my hands on my hips, looking around. “This place used to be twice this size, completely packed after school. I should know. I probably dropped thousands into this place in those days.” I point to a row of machines running along the back wall. “You ever played pinball?”

  She raises an eyebrow and dips her head. “Seriously? I wager I’ve got more pinball skill in my pinky than you could muster in your entire life.”

  I step back. “Well, lookee here, folks, I’d say someone’s begging to get their ass handed to them today. Care to make it official?”

  “A real wager?”

  “Sure, starting with that sweet little ass of yours.”

  She looks behind herself. “Hmm, so you like my ass, do you? Suppose you want to slip that big bad cock of yours inside it, huh?”

  I swear to god I’m licking my lips at the thought of it. “I was going to suggest twenty dollars, but hell, I’ll take that.”

  She wags her finger, walking right to me. “Ah, but if I win…”

  “Yes?”

  She reaches around and slaps me on the butt. “I get to fuck you in the ass.”

  I jump back in fright. “Now wait just a god-damn minute…”

  She stalks forward, smiling. “What? Not so confident anymore now the stakes have been laid out?”

  I stop, my competitive self shining through. “Well, I have no idea what you’d even fuck my ass with, but it ain’t gonna happen. Not today, not ever. Your ass, though? Oh, that’s mine for the taking.”

  She extends her hand to the row of pinball machines. “Choose your poison. Best of ten wins.”

  “The Twilight Zone. A pinball classic.”

  She spots the machine. “First released in Midway in 1993, currently the top-rated pinball machine of all time according to the PMD.”

  “The what?” I stammer.

  She rolls her eyes. “The Pinball Machine Database.”

  Oh, shit. “What the hell is this? You hustling me here. Your daddy a damn pinball repairman or something?”

  Her smile widens. “Yeah, something like that.”

  Double shit.

  It becomes clear from the very first ball she’s a pro. Five minutes in and she hasn’t lost a single ball yet.

  She looks around at me, the ball still in play, glancing down to her ass. “Still think you have what it takes, or you want to pull out?”

  I hold her hips and grind against said posterior, feel how firm and fucking supple it is. “Baby, I never pull out.”

  The multi-ball siren goes off, Gisele firing the balls back into the playing field with ease. “Your funeral—or should I say your ass’s funeral?”

  And so it continues. It takes me a couple of games to get used to things, to actually remember how the damn thing works, but before long I’m keeping up with her, if still lagging behind overall.

  Three games down and we move to the Addams’ Family, then KISS, my best machine, but even then I can’t put a dent in her winning streak. My asshole starts to itch thinking about what she has in store for it.

  Then she starts to lose, out of nowhere—a sloppy misfire there, a lost ball, too much tilt…

  I can feel my smile returning. “Should I offer you the same olive branch, or you still willing put your anal virginity on the line?”

  The ball she’s playing shoots down straight into the depths of the machine. She turns back smiling. “What makes you think it would be my first time?”

  Touché.

  Still, her form continues to drop until there’s one game left, the decider.

  “Last chance,” I offer, ahead by one point.

  “You can take your chance and shove it.”

  I fire the ball. “Oh, I will… right up that cute, ripe butt of yours.”

  But I fuck up, flipping too early and missing the ball completely. The second and third follow suit fast. I don’t think it’s going to be enough.

  Gisele checks the screen. “Ten thousand. Not exactly a high score.”

  I step aside starting to sweat.

  She gets off to a good start and that sweat becomes a swimming pool.

  One ball gone, she fires up the next, already at eight thousand.

  I’m fucked, I think, literally.

  Nine thousand.

  Nine-and-a-half.

  The flippers go slack and her third ball is lost.

  I’ve done it.

  I press her hard against the machine, hands gripping the side of her ass. “You don’t know how much I’m going to enjoy this.”

  She kicks her butt out, pushing me away and turning around with dignity, leaning until her lips are right against my ear. “You haven’t considered I lost on purpose?”

  She walks away, exaggerating her swagger, those perfect, peachy orbs beckoning me on.

  “God damn,” I laugh to myself. “You are one twisted woman.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  GISELE

  Bobby was right. By the time we make it to the motel, dark, melancholy clouds have gathered from seemingly nowhere. It feels like night.

  He brings my hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it that’s simultaneously sweet and sexy. My arousal level immediately begins to ramp up.

  There’s no waiting around, no lingering tension. He simply pushes me against the motel room wall as soon as we’re inside and kisses me firmly on the mouth.

  It’s dark, his hard body pressed up against me and his firm, warm lips caressing my own.

  There’s little I can do but moan against his mouth, to taste him on my lips and tongue.

  Just enjoy it, I tell myself, doing my best to forget about everything outside, the complete and utter shitstorm my life is about to become if I do decide to stiff this client. I’ve never not come through, never failed getting my client what they want. This would be a first. But it doesn’t matter in the moment.

  The wall behind me is as unyielding as the body grinding against me. I know he’s hard. I can feel it, feel him getting wild and restless to take me completely.

  Soon we’re making out like horny teens trapped under the bleachers, every stroke of his tongue bringing me closer and closer to losing all control.

  Bobby breaks the kiss breathlessly. He cups my jaw and tilts my head towards him. I can’t see him, but I know the features of his face intimately now, can see them in my mind’s eye. “You’re going to make me cream my pants, you know.”

  “You and me both,” I reply.

  He kisses me now with new abandon, a kiss so fucking hot I’m surprised I haven’t turned into a fireball by now. His hands eagerly work at the buttons of my shirt, one pinging free.

  I remind myself to breathe while he continues. I lean forward with my own hand and move it into his shirt, pressing my fingers flat against his chest and fangirling internally at the joy his body is to behold. Because this isn’t just a firm stomach, hard abs that have tortured me for days, but absolute and unparalleled perfection.

  Before I know it he’s tugging down my jeans with strong hands. The mix of excitement and fear bottles up inside me and I have to let it out in a short, punctuated gasp.

  I retaliate, finding his belt and buckle, unzipping his jeans and fishing inside for his beautiful cock. I find it straining against his underwear just as impressive as I remember.

  Hello, again.

  I sort of mew-whimper because I know what’s coming and I’m pretty damn sure it’s going to t
ear the space time continuum in two.

  There’s little time to think on it as I’m scooped up and hustled through, then deposited on the bed, the shift of weight giving some clue as to where Bobby has placed himself. Clothes are shed silently, quickly, a car passing by outside giving me the briefest of views.

  Hands, back on me. Socks, strewn. Laughter. Heat. And then I’m naked.

  I gasp again when I’m rolled onto my back, Bobby on top of me. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze with everything I have, never wanting to let go.

  I reach up and let my nails glide over his bare back, the firm pillows of his ass waiting to work. His skin is so smooth, so warm. I literally shudder with excitement.

  I groan against his lips, his piney, heather scent intoxicating.

  He murmurs in response, his hand moving between my legs and finding the wet, open warmth of my pussy.

  I reach between us and take hold of his cock, lightly tugging at it. It still feels so unnaturally large.

  “You’re scared I’m going to hurt you,” he asks.

  “You do have a telegraph pole for a cock,” I reply.

  He runs two fingers into the slick channel of my sex. “Doesn’t seem to me like it’s going to be a problem.”

  I butt my hips forward against his hand, but he draws his fingers away and starts to slide down my bottom. “But just to be sure…”

  He plants a kiss on my chest, my sternum and then my sex, his entire mouth covering my clit. My spine flexes and I stare up at the darkness. “G-od,” I stammer.

  I run my hands into his hair and draw my feet up to give him better access.

  I want to tell him what a great job he’s doing, but I’m speechless. I shudder and gasp, his lips breaking to skim over my hole, continuing to move south until…

  “What are—”

  But it’s too late. The tip of his tongue is already skirting the perimeter of my taint, a tickle turning into a full blown attack that leaves me breathless.

  I’ve never had anyone go down on me like this, or there. It’s… incredible, so taboo and naughty. But damn it I just can’t get enough.

  He licks back up my pussy in a long, wet stroke before flicking at my clit. His stubble brushes my inner thighs. “Fuck me, you taste amazing.”