DIRTY READS

by Scott Hildreth

  “Did Duc rove you rong time?” Drake asked jokingly.

  “Fuck you, Drake. It’s in the kitchen. All of it. I’ll bring the car back as soon as I can.”

  “What about the Ferrari?”

  Dick shrugged. “Let me think on that for a bit.”

  Drake patted my shoulder with his cheese hand. “Jess, I must say, the pleasure was mine.”

  “It was nice to meet you,” I said, although he was really gross.

  “You want your $500 back?” I asked as we walked toward the garage.

  “Did you gamble?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “If you gambled and you didn’t lose it, you can keep it.”

  It probably didn’t seem like much to him, but $1030 was life changing for me.

  I shook hands with Drake, but Dick didn’t. After we got in the car I admired him without staring – stealing glances as he drove. He seemed annoyed, and I wondered how the Chinatown delivery went. Obviously not very well, I decided.

  Halfway to my car, I broke the silence. “Something wrong?”

  He seemed to find the question entertaining, coughing out a laugh before he responded. “Typical day in the life of Dick.”

  “Tomorrow’s Friday. When are we going out?”

  He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “How’s your work schedule?”

  I thought of the $1030 in my pocket and realized I could actually afford to take off early. “I’m scheduled to work, but I can get off early either night.”

  “Let’s do it tomorrow.”

  Let’s do it tomorrow. It sounded like a burden. As attracted as I was to him, I didn’t want the date to be an annoyance or something he didn’t think he would enjoy.

  “You don’t have to take me out. We can call it even. I shouldn’t have made you agree to it.”

  He changed lanes, adjusted the rearview mirror, and stared into it for a minute. “It’s been a fucked up day, Jess. Sorry if I’m not jumping up and fucking down about our date.”

  My mouth went dry just a little. The whole thing seemed forced. I wanted him to like me, but my self-pride wouldn’t allow him to treat me like I was an aggravation.

  I stared out the side window. “Just forget it.”

  “Forget what?”

  “The date.”

  “What are you talking about?” he snapped back.

  “Forget it. I don’t want to go out with you again if you don’t want to go.”

  I sounded like such a girl. I didn’t care. I continued to stare out the window, listening to his breathing, which was labored and sounded angry.

  “I want to go out.”

  I turned to face him. I heard him just fine, but I wanted to hear him say it again. “Excuse me?”

  “I want to go out with you.”

  I wanted more. “Why?”

  “You’ve got a nice little pussy.”

  Are you fucking kidding me?

  I glared “Are you fucking…”

  “And you’re fun,” he interrupted.

  It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “You think I’m fun?”

  He shot me his shitty little smirk and nodded.

  I smiled. “I think you’re fun, too.”

  And when Friday gets here, I’m going to rock your world, Dick.

  EIGHT

  Dick

  THERE was no way I was going to let him fuck me on the diamond, regardless of how I got my hands on it. “I don’t give a fuck what your little wholesale chart says. It’s not a wholesale piece. Look at it. My sources tell me it’s 10.22 carats, D color, and IF clarity. It’s a gem, no pun intended.”

  “And there’s no laser inscription,” I added. “An easy piece to move.”

  “Let me make a call to an investor,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Make all the calls you want.”

  He walked to the back of the store and returned in a few minutes. His face was covered in a guilty smirk. Apparently, his call went well. “I need to take the stone to the back. I should just be a moment.”

  “You’re not taking that rock anywhere.”

  He was five-foot tall, bald, and walked like a duck. With his jeweler’s glasses over his eyes and his eyeglasses propped on top of his head, he returned a rather confused look.

  “I’d like to inspect it with a scope. The refraction of--”

  “Bring your scope up here. Or take me back there. Either one.”

  He pressed the switch on the wall, activating the electronic door lock and securing the front door. With the stone cradled in his hand like he was carrying a pressure sensitive bomb, he turned toward the rear of the store. “Follow me.”

  After a rather lengthy inspection under a microscope, he removed the diamond, placed it to the side, and sighed.

  “I’d go $2,500,000.”

  I shook my head. “I’d take $3,000,000.”

  “It’s…I…” he stammered.

  “It’s what? I tell you what it is. It’s fucking huge. It’s flawless. And it’s one of a kind. Wholesale is $2,245,100 at 10 carats. At 10.22, it’s $2,295,000. But, like I said…”

  He picked up the diamond, admired it, and placed it on the folded cloth. “$2,750,000.”

  “Three.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing,” I said. “I’ll toss that motherfucker in the Colorado river before I sell it for anything less.”

  He quickly reached for the stone and covered it with his hand. “You certainly will not. I’ll go three. It’ll take me several days to get the funds. Investors, you know.”

  I fought against the urge to smile at the $2,000,000 profit I would make from the transaction. “Understood.” I tilted my head toward the diamond. “Give me the rock and call me when you’re ready.”

  He set the jeweler’s glasses aside. “I’d rather keep it here. In the safe.”

  “I bet you would.” I pointed to the stone. “Call me when you’re ready.”

  He reluctantly handed me the stone, his eyes glued to it the entire time. He grimaced as I wrapped it in the cloth and shoved it into my pocket.

  “Three days at the most. Maybe two,” he said as he reached for the door switch.

  I caught a reflection in the mirror behind him that looked like a white Nissan GT-R Nismo driving by. My asshole puckered. I spun around and scanned the parking lot.

  Nothing.

  Although I was rarely nervous about anything, I told myself that was the case. I must have been nervous. After all, I had three million reasons to be nervous.

  “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  “Very well,” he said with a smile.

  I turned toward the front door just as the magnetic lock clicked, unlocking it for free passage. I pushed the door open, walked to my car, and reached for the door handle.

  A sharp pain shot down my spine, followed by a blinding light, then everything went black.

  NINE

  Jess

  OUR date was in no way what I expected – or hoped for – but it led me to believe Dick may be seeing me as slightly more than a simple piece of ass.

  He pulled the earmuff away from my right ear. “Squeeze the trigger. Don’t yank it.”

  I nodded. My father was in the military, and growing up on a farm as the only sister to three brothers, a gun wasn’t anything new to me. I’d fired them many times, but never in an indoor range. I steadied the gun, aligned the sights, and squeezed the trigger.

  The recoil from the 9mm wasn’t near as brutal as the .45 caliber my father taught me to shoot with. I stared at the target, slightly disappointed with my performance – the rip in the paper target wasn’t exactly where I’d pointed, but it was close. I fired another. And another. In a matter of seconds, the slide stayed open, a reminder that the 17-round magazine was empty.

  I glanced at Dick.

  “Not bad,” he said with a nod. “Definitely not your first time.”

  “Not at all,” I said. “My father was a Marine. And, I grew up on a farm.”


  He reeled the target in and inspected it. “Impressive.”

  I studied the three-inch long gash on the side of his forehead. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “Just like I told you earlier. Misunderstanding.”

  I knew better than to pry. There was no doubt that Dick was involved in some shady stuff, and as with most people who chose the life of an outlaw, he kept his criminal life private.

  “Okay.”

  He pulled off my target, placed a new one on the clip, and ran the it out to twenty-five feet.

  “Put on your ears,” he said.

  I pulled the earmuffs over my ears and put on my glasses. Seventeen shots were fired as fast as he was able to pull the trigger. He placed the pistol down, reeled the target in, and inspected it.

  All of the rounds were within a few inches of each other. I knew enough about firing a pistol to know he was as good as my father, and he was as good as the US Marine Corps had ever seen.

  I pointed at the shredded paper. “Wow.”

  He shrugged. “Lots of practice.”

  “I guess so.”

  We alternated back and forth, each taking turns shooting at various targets. I appreciated that he wanted to use the same lane, and enjoy the time we spent at the range – instead of getting two lanes and making it a less personal experience.

  After we fired all of the ammunition, he glanced around the empty range. “So, you about ready to eat?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  He was dressed in a V-neck tee shirt, jeans, and dress shoes, which was much different than the other two times I’d seen him. His muscular physique was undeniable in the clothes he was wearing, and staring was something I had to consciously try to keep myself from doing.

  The tee shirt clung to his wide chest as he placed the pistols, glasses, and earmuffs in the padded case. After cleaning up all of the trash, he picked up the gun case and patted me on the shoulder.

  “Ready?”

  “You sure everything’s okay?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You sure whatever hit your head didn’t do some damage?”

  “I’m fine, why?”

  I knew he hadn’t changed – because people never do – but I wondered if the way he looked at me had. Or at least I hoped.

  “Nothing,” I said, not wanting to scare him away.

  I walked slightly behind him, acting preoccupied with everything, although I wasn’t. I liked watching him walk, and imagined what other people thought when they saw him for the first time.

  Seeing him was intimidating, but hearing him talk was just about as bad. He was the type of man who commanded everyone’s attention whether he realized it or not.

  He unlocked the car and put the case in the trunk. “What are you in the mood for?”

  I wanted him to fuck me. I was well aware that sex with me meant nothing to him, and that whatever we were doing wasn’t permanent – but as far as I was concerned it was all the more reason to be fucking and not eating a cheeseburger or talking over a glass of wine.

  “Dick.”

  He shot me a confused look. “What?”

  “No,” I said. “You asked what I was in the mood for. I want some dick, Dick.”

  “I can arrange that,” he responded flatly.

  I lowered myself into the seat and buckled my seatbelt, feeling like something was wrong. I doubted a person like Dick ended up with a three-inch hole in his forehead without there being a story to go along with it.

  I knew better than to ask again, but I couldn’t help but wonder. “Let’s eat something light and go back to your place and bone.”

  My idea bounced around inside the quiet car for some time before he responded.

  “Sounds good,” he said.

  No smart remark. No I’m in charge, you’ll do what I say response. Just a sounds good. I wanted him to get in another high-speed chase with the cops, pull over and fuck me on the hood of the car, or say he had to rob a bank really quick just so I’d feel like he was doing alright. I wondered if any of those possibilities could come to fruition.

  What originally appealed to me about Dick – besides his very obvious dick – was that he seemed like the ultimate bad boy. Not a punk kid with an attitude, or a man with a desire to simply act like an asshole, but a true bad boy through and through.

  Now, he seemed like an average guy. Well, one who was covered in muscles and was rocking a massive cock.

  The only thing I knew that might bring him out of his slump was a blowjob. A good dick sucking seemed to be a cure-all for whatever was wrong with a man – at least the men I knew. I took my chances and unbuckled my seatbelt.

  The warning buzzer began to ding.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled.

  I felt it would be best that I didn’t respond. Maybe, I thought, it would bring out the asshole in him. Make him revert back to normal. I reached to unbuckle his belt, and he squirmed in his seat and gave me a shitty glare.

  “Answer me.”

  I had yet to wrap my lips around it, and he was already acting like he was feeling better.

  I returned a shitty glare of my own, and pulled his half-stiff cock from his jeans.

  “Just drive,” I said.

  “You might not want to do that,” he warned.

  “Why?”

  “My cock is angry right now.”

  “Feed me every angry inch of it,” I said.

  He let out a sigh. “You asked.”

  With one hand on the steering wheel and one on the back of my head, he forced the tip of his stiff cock past my lips.

  I had always considered myself versed in the art of sucking dick, and I’d never encountered one I couldn’t swallow. Convinced Dick’s wasn’t going to be the first, I tried to start off slow and prepare my throat for what was sure to come.

  Apparently, he didn’t get the memo.

  Immediately, the tip of his dick began banging against the back of my throat. With watering eyes and a convulsing gag reflex I never knew I had, I sucked his cock the best that I was able.

  He was right.

  He was angry.

  Most women would find what he was doing to me to be either repulsive or a disgraceful. Some might even describe it as abusive.

  Me?

  I loved it when a man shoved his cock down my throat. The bigger the better. It brought out the best in me.

  I pulled my mouth off his dick and looked up at him. “Fuck yes. Fuck my mouth.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” he snarled.

  He grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face in his lap.

  With his dick covered in my saliva, and my throat finally prepped for the occasion, I flattened my tongue against the bottom of the shaft, and eagerly swallowed every inch of him.

  His hips worked in unison with me, forcing himself up when my mouth was traveling down. In a matter of minutes, my pussy started to ache. Throbbing and tingling, it was screaming for some cock of its own. I wanted to beg, but I didn’t.

  Instead, I sucked harder. Faster. More aggressively. In response, he pulled against my hair, lifting my head from his lap.

  “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you,” he growled.

  He pulled the car over and all but yanked me from inside. Nervously, I looked around, wondering what well-lit parking lot he’d landed in. I glanced at the building. A red and white circle plastered to the side made me grin.

  Target.

  At 7:00 on a Friday night. Granted, we were parked in the rear of the lot, and behind the building, but we were there in broad daylight.

  Perfect.

  With both of us standing outside of his car, and his cock standing at attention, he lifted my dress to my waist, pulled against my panties, and eventually ripped them in two.

  I’d never been one for public sex, and in fact, wondered if the opportunity ever presented itself if I would be able to perform. When he pushed my head into the seat of his car
and shoved me full of dick, I got my answer.

  I loved it.

  His hips pounded against my ass while he forced inch after inch of his thick cock into me. With each stroke I let out a grunt of satisfaction, imagining random soccer moms and single fathers happening by only to see me getting fucked senseless in the parking lot.

  This is so hot.

  The size of his dick made being fucked an entirely different experience. I was no newcomer to sex, being fucked hard, or being bent over and hate fucked – which was exactly what he was doing.

  Having Dick fuck me redefined everything I thought I knew about sex.

  While filled with his cock, I never wanted it to end. It was painful, erotic, magical, beyond compare, and one hundred fucking percent satisfying.

  I felt him withdraw from my pussy. I wondered what I did wrong? Why he would end such a wonderful thing? Even if we were in the parking lot of a Target Superstore, stopping in the middle of something that felt so good should be criminal.

  Further proof that my suspicions were correct.

  His hand between my legs made me jump. He rubbed his palm against my soaking wet pussy and wiped my juices along the crack of my ass. I felt slight pressure against my anus. And then a little more.

  “Whoa. Whoa.” I begged. “No. There’s…”

  Slowly, he began to slide his cock inside.

  Oh. My. God.

  My entire body began to tingle.

  “Fuck it.” I took a deep breath.

  “Do it,” I growled. “Just. Take. It. Easy.”

  Slowly, he began to fuck me in the ass. Apparently, whoever hit him in the head got away without being punished, and I was paying the price for it. I hated the fact that he got hit, but I was glad to act as the means of relief for his suppressed frustration.

  I bit against my bottom lip.

  As his thick shaft worked in and out of my ass with care, I felt myself begin to reach climax. I buried my face in the seat of his car, reached back with my right hand, and began to rub my clit feverishly.

  I closed my eyes and prayed for him to never stop fucking me. A few seconds later, I burst into an orgasm to end all orgasms, wailing my satisfaction into the small space inside of his car. An instant later, I felt him release his warmth into my ass.

  I collapsed face-first into the seat.