by Twist,Tommy
Hopefully, if all went well, they’d come in on the fellow sleeping, and he’d listen to reason. Having the weapon in his hand meant that right away, Manus would be on the defensive.
Noah couldn’t tell how many people he’d seen run from the police simply because the cops were chasing. Then things would get violent; backed into a corner, someone would get hurt, when all that truly needed to happen was for a group of adults to sit down and have a conversation. On the other hand, things could go badly. Then the gun would need to be ready if Noah hoped to get out alive.
The place was empty. Noah had a bad feeling since they left and it flared up worse still now. He briefly considered turning back, telling Jane that something wasn’t right and they needed to leave. In the back of his mind, though, a voice whispered that this was it.
He may fail here, but things couldn’t stay. Something had to get straightened out, and it would have to get straightened today. If they ran, they would need to keep running, because this was the first and only time they were on even footing. It was a leap of faith or a slow descent, but the fall, he thought, was inevitable.
“That’s the one.”
Jane gestured at a door, and Noah put his hand in his pocket. The gun fit into his hand like it was made for him in particular, and then he nodded. Jane touched the door and he heard a soft “click” of the deadbolt sliding open. The doorknob turned in her hand easily, silently. Perhaps, he thought, they’d get out of this easily.
The main room was empty, and they moved in silently. Though he had briefly considered that Manus might be there, ready for them, or that he might have fled, the room seemed undisturbed. It was as if they had come in while their quarry was out of the house getting coffee. He gestured toward the only closed door in the small apartment, at the end of the hall. It had to be the bedroom; the bathroom and kitchen were both open.
They stood outside the door, crouched, waiting for the right moment. Jane touched the knob, then turned it slowly, silently. Then she started to open it and all hell broke loose.
Noah woke, a moment later. The room was hot, and he could tell there was fire behind him, though he didn’t turn to look. He needed to get out, to get Jane out. That was the only answer. Whatever they needed to do, the first step would be getting out of here alive. But when he touched the knob it didn’t turn.
Noah put his shoulder into it, but it didn’t budge. A second time, and then a third, but to no avail. The door was reinforced, and somehow, someone had locked it. It wasn’t the handle lock or the deadbolt, at least not that he had access to. But try as he might, the door would not open.
He didn’t hear Jane come up behind him, but she put her hand on the door. He knew what she was trying to do, and when he saw the expression that crossed her face he knew, even if she didn’t, that it would not work.
“You’re empty, kid.”
Her face screwed up in confusion.
“No, that doesn’t make sense. I don’t remember…”
Noah looked at the scorched remains of what might have once been a bedroom doorway. There was no way that they’d have been blown back from it safely. Jane followed his gaze and the look on her face said it all. Perhaps she’d never been that scared after all. Not scared enough to do anything about it, anyways.
She’d shielded them. Noah supposed it had happened reflexively, and she hadn’t even realized it.
“What do we do, Noah?”
The bodyguard looked at her. There weren’t many options. The windows were barred. He could see the pin was welded to the door. She could unlock it, he knew. It wouldn’t be hard. It would be just like the time before, no struggle at all. But she needed power, and there wasn’t an alternative.
Noah grabbed her head and pulled her lips to his. He could see the panic setting in, and he’d have to use that. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, and finally she started kissing back. Her body pressed into his, arms entwining around his waist, her feet straining to bring her lips closer to his, to bring her closer.
The air in the room seemed to sense the panic turning to arousal, and it buzzed softly, driving both of them further and further into arousal.
Noah’s hand slipped around the back of Jane’s neck, pulling her in as his other pressed against her through her jeans. He had made love to a great many clients, but this was an emergency—this was going to be fucking, plain and simple. The difference played out on his face, as his lips started to tighten against his teeth, his expression lustful, almost angry.
Jane pulled away.
“Are you sure?” Her voice said she didn’t want to stop.
“No,” Noah answered.
And then he was pulling her blouse open. He fumbled with the buttons, more than one popping off into the room. Her breasts bounced eagerly out when he pulled her bra up. He sucked a nipple hungrily, tugging at the button of her jeans with one hand.
She reached down to help him. She pulled her jeans down over her hips. Losing her balance, she hopped across the room, bumping into the table.
Noah watched a glass of water start to tip, as if it were in slow-motion. Time, it seems, was slowing down. He followed Jane across the room and steadied the glass. He picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as their lips met once more. He laid her down on the couch, kneeling between her thighs and pulling her panties to the side.
He didn’t go for her pussy right away, though. He breathed on it, so close that Jane could almost imagine what it would feel like for him to bury his tongue in her folds. And then he kissed her thigh, his lips softly touching her skin. His thumb started to rub her lips softly, never quite venturing all the way into them. Jane moaned in frustration, tangling her fingers into her bodyguard’s hair.
The energy was moving through both of them, now. Like licking a battery, only through their entire body. She pulled his face into her. She wanted it now, and he would give it to her. His tongue moved, and with it his hands, rubbing and spreading and thrusting. Jane squirmed under him. She was so close now. At any second she would cum. And then she did. Moaning, pulling her lover’s hair, she pressed his face into her mound. He pulled her clit between his lips, sucking as she rode out the orgasm.
She wasn’t sure when she closed her eyes, but when she opened them Noah had taken his cock out. He rubbed it against her entrance.
“Ready?”
Jane let her eyes shut again, nodding slowly. He pushed against her, sliding in easily. Her pussy stretched to accommodate him, buried deep inside. For a moment, he held himself still here. He drew her breast back into his mouth, grazing the nipple with his teeth.
Then the moment was broken, and he thrust into her. He used her hips as a handle, riding as hard and as fast as he could.
“Right there,” Jane cried out.
She was close, Noah knew. It would only be another moment for him, as well. After days of wanting, of looking without touching, it was a matter of time. With the situation around them, it was not the time for luxurious, slow lovemaking.
She squeezed around him, and he let go. His cum shot out in ropey strands, hot and thick. He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. He could hear Jane gasp when his cock, still half-hard, twitched inside her.
“Noah?” Jane’s breath was ragged, and her forehead gleamed with sweat.
“Yes?” He rolled a nipple between his fingers, watching it pucker and swell.
“Can we, ah… do that again?” Noah stifled a laugh.
“If you insist. But” He looked pointedly around the room, a grin wide across his face. Still in an awful slow-motion, flames licked the far wall, and they watched as the white wallpaper yellowed and then burnt. “Not now.”
It didn’t occur to Noah that it might not work until he let his breath out, hearing the heavy metal sound of the lock opening. He pulled the gun out of his coat pocket. The time for tactful negotiation had passed.
They walked out of the room, and the sound of everything around him came back forcefully. The he
at of the flame behind them washed over him suddenly and he felt a little bit sick. But he had a job to do, still, and he forced himself to wear the mask of professionalism that he wore with all of his other clients.
The sounds of footsteps echoed through the stair well, from above. Noah knew that the door had to have been locked manually, somehow; someone would be nearby who knew how to get to the bottom of this. Someone was running from the scene of a crime, running away from the only exit. There would only be two types of innocent bystander: The gawkers and the runners. And the runners would be making a beeline for the lobby now. Noah pocketed the pistol again and he ran.
Jane’s shoes slapped the cement flooring behind him, and for a moment Noah considered telling her to wait. But at the same time, he thought, there’s not going likely to be a happy ending. She should come, if for no reason other than to say goodbye to her brother.
They rounded the corner shoulder-to-shoulder. For his concerns, Noah noted, she was running as fast as he was, if not faster. She put her shoulder down into the cross-bar on the roof access door, flinging it open. Noah came through nary a second later.
A young man, hardly old enough to drink, stood on the roof. His figure was rail-thin, and if they’d passed on the street Noah might have felt bad for him. He had the face of a man who was down on his luck, creased with agitation and adrenaline.
He held Jane in a headlock. His free hand was behind his back. Noah knew he was going for a gun. He made the decision to shoot then. It was just a matter of time. He waited for a clear enough shot that it didn’t risk shooting Jane instead.
Then something unexpected happened. Jane lifted her knee high and brought her heel down on her brother’s foot hard. A sickly pop rang out and Manus’s grip loosened just enough that she pulled free. The young wiry man screamed out in pain, stumbling across the roof. Seeing that his plan had failed, and without recourse, Manus reached once more for the gun.
Noah waited just a half-second. Long enough to be sure that he wasn’t shooting an unarmed man. Then he pulled the gun from his coat and fired. Jane’s breath came in fast, ragged spurts. Noah put his arm around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace.
“Come on, miss Everett. I’ll take you home.”
Rock Star's Curvy Lover
BBW Rocker Erotica
Dalia Daudelin
My two loves in this world are food and rock music, and nothing is ever going to change that. Sure, I've tried dieting, tried losing a few pounds in order to get back to the tiny weight I had when I was young and in ballet, but I love food and I don't look too bad like this.
I'm 25 now, and I'm used to my body. It doesn't hurt that I'm surrounded by the sort of people who will tell me I'm beautiful at any size. Ah, college. So full of feminist thought.
Still, in the back of my mind, I know I'm fat and it does make me insecure. I work out, and I try to eat healthfully. I have a ton of energy, but I still know it'll be hard for me to find someone interested in getting to know me in spite of the extra rolls on my belly.
I haven't had a boyfriend since graduating high school. It's rough, watching all of my friends have one night stands and enjoy the party life that is so rampant at my college. Meanwhile I'm at home alone every weekend, watching reality TV. It's not fair at all.
I want to feel beautiful, but my size seems to make the rest of me look worse. And college kids, especially those in the Ivy League, are vain. I am sort of resigned now to not having anyone until I graduate and get a career where I'm surrounded by older men. Boring older men. I do sometimes get the attention of my teachers, but I avoid them. I don't need some sort of scandal during my last year before I graduate.
The day my whole life changed seemed normal enough. There was a concert scheduled to take place on campus, a free one that our school puts on after finals to help us relax a bit. This is a pretty normal occurrence and I usually go to them with my group of friends.
My best friend, Jess, has been feeling down for the past few weeks because her asshole boyfriend broke up with her. She's thin and pretty, but he left her for a freshman cheerleader. She's pretty broken up about the whole thing, and since I'm a good friend, I made her promise she would go to the concert and then out for drinks after.
The band Jess is most excited to see at the concert is Hidden Guns, a pop-punk band she's been obsessed with ever since I met her. She absolutely idolizes John Grimm, the lead singer. Admittedly, he is a very handsome man, but his lyrics can sometimes be sexist. I'm not a huge fan but like I said, I have to be a good friend.
Jess and I have plans to meet up at the concert, since she has to finish up a test before she can head over. I'm showered and dressed as cute as I can be. I'm wearing a short vinyl skirt and a red top that shows off my large breasts, which is one of my favorite attributes. The skirt rides up a bit, but I don't care. It makes my large thighs look smoking hot, especially when I wear my heels.
I have curled my hair and pin it back a bit so it stays out of my face while we dance. My makeup is louder than I usually wear it: black on the inner corner of my eyelids, fading to red on the outer corners. Cat eye styled eyeliner and red lips finish off my look, and when I stare at my reflection I can't help but smile. I really am beautiful. My stomach may not be flat, but right now I am hot.
I check the clock. I only have a few more minutes before I have to head out. I consider calling Jess but by the time I finish touching up my chipped nail polish I have to run out the door.
The halls are full of people picking up friends to go out. Some will probably skip the concert because they're busy, or they want to avoid getting involved in the drunken fistfights that inevitably get started. I'll be leaving early enough to avoid all of that crap.
The courtyard is already filled with people- hundreds of them, students and friends of students getting drunk and probably smoking pot even though neither of those things are allowed on campus. It tends to get overlooked after finals because we are a very hardworking school. We work very hard to get the best grades possible.
As I get closer, I start to look around for my friends. I spot the curly hair of another of my friends, Andrea, in the distance. Her long blonde hair and thin waist gets her a lot of attention, and of course she's on the arm of a hot frat boy. He's typically muscled and dressed just as you'd expect a jock to dress. She turns just enough to see me out of the corner of her eye, and raises her arm to wave me over.
“Anna, hey! I'm glad you still came!”
I raise my eyebrow and cock my head. “What do you mean, 'still'? I'm just waiting for Jess.”
“Oh, didn't she tell you? She's feeling really sad tonight so she's staying in. But this is great, you and I can hang out!” She pulls me in for a hug. It's overly friendly but I hardly notice because of how irritated I am. Andrea smells like flowers, but the scent isn't strong enough to irritate my nose. When she pulls back, I try to smile at her.
It would be rude to leave now, especially since Andrea seems so excited to have me out here with her. A few more of my friends show up, as well, and I begin to think I might actually have a good time.
Still, I'm seeing a band I have no interest in after being stood up by my best friend. I do my best to keep smiling, and try to ignore any douchebag that looks at me as if to ask why a fat ass like me is anywhere near them. I feel self conscious, so I wrap my arms around myself and huddle close to my group.
A sudden crash of guitar strings makes me jump, and the whole crowd in unison turns away from our beers to see the band members of Hidden Guns walking out onto the stage. The drummer, his long blonde hair getting in the way of his face, is laughing with the lead singer. His muscles are tight, his black hair short but styled in a sort of 50s greaser style. He glances over the audience, his blue eyes flashing in the stage lights.
Looking at him, the breath is knocked out of my lungs. Now I see why Jess likes him so much. John Grimm looks across the audience, and he looks like he's talking but our sound system is old and awful. Andrea le
ts out a high pitched squeal and grabs my hand, pulling me through the crowd to get closer to the front.
I'm sure you can imagine how much this pissed off the people we were pushing past, but Andrea is accustomed to getting what she wants and right now what she wants is to be so close to that lead singer that she could smell his sweat. I never expected someone like her to like this band. Usually she's a pop music kind of girl.
John is even sexier up close. I can see small droplets of sweat forming on his forehead, his ripped jeans slightly dirty from bringing out the sound equipment. You can tell from his build that he's not the kind of guy to shy away from manual labor, no matter how much money he might be worth. The more I watch him, the hotter he looks.
Of course, I couldn't have been prepared for what happened while he was singing. Some people say that it helps, if a performer is nervous, to find one person in the audience you are singing for. John Grimm doesn't look like he's capable of anxiety, and yet all through his first song he was staring right at someone.
Me.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized this was happening. His ice blue eyes pierced through me into my soul as he sang, my body going numb and the world around me going black. Everything faded away until all I could see was John Grimm, singing to me. I swooned. It was a magic moment.
He crouched down at the end of the second song, holding out something. A few others tried to swipe it, but he held it in his grip, beckoning me to come closer and take the pass from him. I looked back at Andrea, her mouth open and eyes wide. I couldn't help but smirk, but that's mean.
And then confusion set in. Why me? Why would I be handed this pass? “Backstage pass,” I mouthed the words. I was going to meet John Grimm! But why?
After Hidden Guns finishes their final song, my knees are wobbly and my heart is beating so hard against my chest that it hurts. Andrea tries to stop me, but I make my way through the crowd and up onto the stage, where I go past some curtains.