Riding Lil' Red Hard: A Modern Day Fairy Tale (Fairy Tale Series Book 3)

by Eddie Cleveland

  I kick the fabric from my foot and Connor digs his fingers into my ass again, but this time, he circles my round cheeks, pushing into my flesh, into my crack, and pulls me toward his mouth. I open my stance and my eyes roll back into my head as his tongue delves into my pussy. He takes a long lick of my slit from my center to my sensitive nub and back, like he’s savoring me.

  I thread my fingers through his hair and Connor pulls me onto his mouth, so I’m straddling his face, and begins to tease my clit with slow circles of tantalizing torture.

  My moans fill the air and I grind my hips forward, toward him, pushing my pussy into his mouth, chasing my pleasure.

  “Fuck you taste so good Charlotte. I wanna taste your cum on my tongue. Be a good girl and cum for me,” he whispers and before I can answer his wet, warm tongue is thrashing against my clit sending pulsing shockwaves through me. The summer storm between us has broken, the clouds have opened and the lightening is flashing as my orgasm tears through me. The thunder is booming in my desperate moans of bliss. The downpour of my juices is flooding my pussy and spilling onto Connor’s flicking tongue and he’s only too happy to lick up every last drop.

  My body begins to relax as the waves pass and the shudders stop. Muscles I didn’t realize were tensed start to unwind and I open the eyes that I never realized I had squeezed shut.

  I slide down him like a drunk stripper on a pole and pant against him. “That was amazing, so fucking good,” my voice is hoarse.

  “We’ve only just gotten started,” he pulls his shirt off and I can’t help but trace the edges of his defined pecs. It was true what I said earlier, I would recognize Connor anywhere. I feel like I could run into him fifty years from now and my soul would still know his. But, I’d be lying if I said nothing has changed about him. These cut abs I want to lick, this hard chest, those biceps that look like he could curl a car, that’s all new. I never thought you could improve on perfection, but here we are.

  I pull his pants open and wrap my hand around the large present inside, my eyes growing wide even though I know what to expect. I still can’t help it, when you’ve got a gift this good waiting for you, you get excited.

  “I’m gonna grab a condom,” Connor grabs my chin and gives me a quick kiss and starts to stand up.

  “No!” I push him back down and grind my pussy over the tip of his exposed cock. “Just pull out again. I don’t want to feel a rubber,” my voice is almost wheezy, like a junkie who needs a fix. “I need to feel you,” I plead.

  Connor furrows his eyebrows and runs his hand over his beard thoughtfully. For a second my gut twists. Is he going to tell me no? Maybe feeling so close, so intimate, isn’t something he cares about. Is this all something I’ve built up in my head?

  “I’ll pull out,” he licks my earlobe and lifts his hips at the same time, quickly sliding his jeans and boxer briefs over his ass in one fluid motion. In a second they’re pooled on the floor at his feet and his thick cock is leaning against his belly, probably too heavy to stand without support.

  I can’t help but stare, and the lip licking isn’t helping anything, but I can’t stop. Damn. You’d think if you’ve already seen it once then you’d be over the whole giant cock on a white guy thing, but nope. I circle my fingers around it and marvel at how small it makes my hands look in comparison.

  Connor grabs his thick cock by the base and pulls it from his stomach and I hover over the tip. He holds it at my entrance and I press down onto it, sighing as he slides inside me. Every inch makes me feel fuller, more stretched, almost like I’m being taken for the first time.

  I hold his shoulders and slide up and down him, the ache between my thighs finally subsiding as he claims me.

  “Charlotte, turn around. I want to watch that sweet ass bounce on me as I fuck you,” he growls in my ear and nips on my nipple, making me yelp.

  I twist away from him and grip his thighs right above his knees and begin to ride him like a bull at one of those rodeo bars where you’ve got to grab the reins and try to stay on.

  Connor bucks his hips, pounding his cock into me and I look over my shoulder at him as he pulls his thumb from his mouth and slides it up between my ass cheeks. I gasp as he pushes it all the way up against my asshole, pressing into it until he passes my body's resistance and buries it inside me.

  I know it’s only a thumb, but I’ve never had anyone touch me there before. Not in anyway. I’m overcome by how full I feel. I’m being pounded by his fat cock while his thick thumb presses inside my virgin ass. The sensation is too much. It’s overwhelming. A sudden wave of pleasure crashes over me and I can’t help but yell his name, “Connor! Oh, my, God!” I scream at the ceiling as he fills me more than I’ve ever experienced.

  “Oh fuck, Charlotte! I’m gonna cum!” He pushes me to my knees and jerks his cock. I’ve never done this before, but I open my mouth. I want to taste his cum on my tongue. I want to swallow his seed. Connor’s white streaks pulse across my lips and mouth, and coat my tongue. I hold it out, as he jerks the last spurt of his seed onto my face. I swallow, then lick my lips to get the rest, wiping my hand over my cheeks to get the parts I missed.

  Connor pulls me up onto him, lying down on the couch. I lie my head on his heart and listen to the beats. Are they calling my name the way my heart has been calling his since I was thirteen? Do I mean as much to him? Could I ever? I want to ask what we are. What we could be, but I’m too scared of what his answer might be.

  The only sound between us is our ragged breathing and the crickets making a symphony outside. I feel pressure to say something, but not the crazy thoughts swirling through my head. I need to start the conversation with something less loaded. Less meaningful.

  “So,” I finally catch my breath and struggle to grasp at any clear thought that doesn’t have to do with who or what we are as a couple or non-couple. “What’s the deal with you and my brother?”

  9|Connor

  Her question hangs in the air and my skin breaks out in gooseflesh, like a sudden arctic blast just cooled the room.

  “Well,” her eyes twinkle, like I’m about to tell her the punchline of a joke, “what did you do anyway? I mean, I know Marcus has a temper, but the way he chased you out of the house was pretty crazy, even for him.” She smirks at me, but I can’t return the smile. I can’t even fake it. Instead my gut churns as flashes of the memory that I’d long ago suppressed resurfaces.

  “Let’s not talk about this now,” I kiss her shoulder and try to pull her into me. “I’m pretty tired, how about we head up to my loft and get some rest?” I hope she’ll drop it. I hope she’ll let it go.

  “Oh come on, I’m not letting you off the hook that easily, are you kidding me? My brother practically throws you out of the house naked, threatening to beat you with a bat and I’m supposed to let it drop? No way. Spill it,” she sits up and cocks her head at me, twisting her full lips to the side.

  If you don’t tell her, he will. Who do you want her to hear this from? What side of the story is going to make you sound worse?

  I try to toss my stupid conscience from my head like I was tossed from Charlotte’s house, but I’m not as convincing as Marcus in rage mode. No one I know is.

  Ever since we were kids, his temper had been the stuff of legends, or at least comic books. He might not have turned green and busted through his shirt when he lost his shit on people, but he was still a destructive, blind-with-rage Hulk. I still can’t believe he is a Pastor. Marcus. The guy who once lost a game of marbles and bashed his bag of cat eyes and oilies against the winner’s face. I always thought the people who were doing God’s work here were supposed to be more like Mother Teresa and less like mafia thugs.

  “I’m waiting,” Charlotte presses me and I sit up on the couch, feeling like I’m trying to swim toward the surface under a sheet of ice. Even as I move toward the light, the truth, the confession that’s supposed to make me take that first fresh lungful of air, I can see the cold wall of my past mistakes locking me unde
r, forcing me to drown in a history I thought I’d left behind.

  I run my hand over my beard, scratching my chin through the rough hairs and look up at her. Charlotte’s face has transformed from wide-eyed playful insistence to a serious squint.

  I clear my throat, but it still feels dry, “So, I’m not sure if you remember much about Sandra.”

  “Sandra? His high school sweetheart?” Charlotte frowns like she’s trying to put together a one-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle without looking at the picture on the box first.

  “That’s the one, yep. Well, on prom night, we all went camping. Not just us, but almost our entire class was there. It was a drunken shit show. Lots of high school drama, binge drinking, drugs, sex, the whole nine yards.” I breathe in deep as I can almost smell the campfire and hear the anthem of our year, Crazy In Love by Beyoncé and Jay Z, blasting again. I blink away the memories and try to keep myself calm, steady and present in the here and now. I don’t need to relive it just because I’m explaining. It’s alright to leave that shit behind. Besides, I can’t still be held accountable for fourteen-year-old mistakes, can I?

  “Gotcha so far,” Charlotte interrupts my scattered thoughts, imploring me to continue with her chocolate eyes.

  “Yeah, so, I got wasted pretty early in the night and passed out in my tent. I couldn't hold my liquor back then, so the rum kicked my ass pretty quickly. Anyway, I didn’t know that Marcus and Sandra got into some kind of epic fight. I heard later that he lost his temper at her and made her cry and she told him she was done with it all. She broke up with him in front of everyone and stormed off. Like I said, I learned that all later on.” I scratch the side of my burning cheek and look down at the sofa. I don’t want to see her eyes when I tell her the next part. I can’t face her judgement.

  “So, what does that have to do with you?” She sits a little taller and even though she’s a foot shorter than me, I’ve never felt smaller.

  “Okay, so, like I said, I was hammered and done for the night when my tent zips open and someone comes in. I wasn’t even sure who it was. I was completely out of it, I swear. Anyway, she couldn’t really wake me up by crying and talking so she tried a different approach,” I swallow hard, “she, uh, well, let’s just say the next thing I knew she was on top of me and I was fucking her.”

  “What? Sandra and Marcus were supposed to get married!”

  “I know! I know!” I hold up my hands like I’m trying to fend off an attacker, but I can’t hide from the truth. “Listen, I’m telling you one-hundred-percent the God’s honest truth, I didn’t even know who I fucked that night. It was a blur. She used me to get back at your brother. As soon as we were done I passed out and Sandra found Marcus and made sure he knew what went down. The next thing I know I’m being woken up again, but this time it’s because Marcus jumped on my tent and was choking me through the fabric. No lie, I thought I was gonna die. If the crowd hadn’t pulled him off, and one of the guys hadn’t driven me home, I think he would’ve killed me.” I’m not trying to make Marcus sound like he was in the wrong for his anger, but I don’t want Charlotte getting the idea that I did this on purpose.

  “I can’t believe you’d do that! Marcus and you were best friends since, what? You guys were three?” Charlotte hops off the couch and rushes over to her clothes, tugging them on quickly.

  “Lottie, I didn’t know. I really didn’t. I was probably five times the legal limit and some woman started riding me. It’s not like I tracked her down into some corner and stole her from him. She went out of her way to make this happen,” I plead.

  “That’s no excuse,” she zips up her jeans and throws her shirt back on. “If you didn’t have loyalty to a guy who was pretty much a brother to you, then you’ll never have loyalty to me. People don’t change, Connor, not that much anyway. Marcus was right, I made a mistake getting involved with you,” her voice cracks and she steps into her shoes. As she turns her head away from me, I see her wipe the tears from her face that were forming in her eyes.

  “Charlotte, don’t run off like this! Come on, at least try to see things from my perspective,” I jump up and try to rush over to her.

  “I’m sorry Connor, but I can’t. I never knew what made him give up on love or why he devoted his life to the church, but now I know it’s because you broke his heart.” She opens my front door and quickly makes her way to my car.

  I stand on the front step, buck naked with my head spinning for the second time today.

  “Fuck!” I yell as she backs out of the driveway and I watch her drive out of my life.

  10|Charlotte

  Tears blur my vision and streak down my face as I drive down the dusty, winding road. Connor’s cabin isn’t exactly conveniently located. It’s close enough that he’s still got electricity and running water and all that. However, it’s far enough out in the Willamette National Forest that it’s making this bumpy, dark drive home unbearable.

  I can’t believe I never knew about Sandra. My memories of her and my brother flip through my mind like one of those cartoons you make move by thumbing past the pages. He loved her so much, he was going to marry her once they got out of high school. She was the one person who could calm his stormy temper… or at least that’s what I remembered. Connor made is sound like he wasn’t as nice to her as I’d thought.

  I bite my lip and my eyebrows crunch together at the thought. Did Marcus ever lose it on her like he had with everyone else in his life? As a kid, I never saw anything like that. I always watched as they held hands, laughed, and danced together. I remember thinking my life would be complete if I found a guy who loved me as much as Sandra loved my brother. Now I’m grateful that prayer was never answered.

  I flick on my four-way flashers, even though I know there’s no one on this road, and pull over. I need to get myself under control. Driving through a haze of tears is going to put me in a ditch. Inside me, there’s a storm brewing, part of me is begging me to go back to Connor. To stay regardless of whatever happened with Marcus and his ex, and chase my own happiness.

  I remember how Marcus turned to the church after Sandra left him. When our parents passed away in a car accident a year later, it only cemented his connection. That’s when he decided he was going to become a Pastor. No, Marcus stepped in and raised me when he was only nineteen so I wouldn’t have to go to foster care. He’s the only family I have left. I’m not about to turn this car around, and turn my back on my brother, not for Connor. Not for anyone.

  I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand, take a shaky breath and pull back out onto the dark road. I try not to speed away, but I want to put distance between me and Connor. I feel like the sooner I can put some miles between us, the quicker my heart can move on.

  Because that worked so well when he joined the SEALs, right? Totally over it.

  I click on the radio and try to let my thoughts slip away as the pop songs blend together. Soon the tunnel of darkness lifts and street lights of the city guide my way back to my house. Well, it was my parents’ house, but when they passed they left it to Marcus. I’ve never left. I came home from the hospital to this house and still eat breakfast at the same table that I grew up munching on Fruity Pebbles at.

  I pull into the driveway and hit the lock button on my keychain as I make my way to the front door.

  When I walk in, I almost scream. I stifle the yelp that wants to escape my lips as I jump a little. “Marcus, you scared me. Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

  I look over at my brother, slumped in a living room chair near the window. There are no lights on. No television blaring. He’s just lost in the darkness.

  “Where were you?” He doesn’t answer my question. I can see him look up at me. I can feel his eyes on me, even without any lights on.

  I shut the door and slide my hand over the light switch, flooding the room with a warm glow. “Don’t you worry about what I’ve been doing, you just worry about you. Why are you sitting here like this? It’s creepy.” I kick of
f my shoes and walk into the room.

  Marcus doesn’t move. He just bores into me with his stare. “You went to see him, didn’t you? After I told you not to.” His voice trembles the air around me, like the little shocks you feel before a huge earthquake is about to hit.

  “I said goodbye,” I hold up my hand. “Listen, I didn’t know about what happened with Sandra and him. You never told me about that.”

  Marcus tilts his head and his eyes soften, “He told you?” Confusion flickers on his face like the dancing shadows of a candle.

  “Yeah, and I told him we couldn’t see each other anymore.” I try to swallow the lump in my throat. The one that’s threatening to erupt my emotions like lava from a volcano, spilling from my face until I’m empty inside. I’ve known that I’ve loved Connor McLean since I was thirteen-years-old. I’ve dreamed of him holding me, wanting me, loving me. And now, when I finally got a taste of that fantasy, it’s been ripped from my heart.

  “Good,” Marcus looks out our living room window, but there’s nothing to see in the darkness. All I see is his reflection staring back at us. “You know what they say, a leopard can’t change his spots,” he sighs wearily. Suddenly, his reflection looks a lot older. Like he’s aged thirty years.

  “Marcus, do you want to talk about what happened? I’m sorry about this,” I step towards him, but he quickly jumps up from the chair and walks around me.

  “No need. It sounds like everything is sorted out,” he clears his throat and makes his way to the stairs. “I’m tired, Lottie, I’m going to bed, okay?”

  “Sure, I understand.” I nod and watch him shuffle heavily up the stairs like an eighty-year-old man.

  The tears I’ve been holding back can’t be contained anymore. They prickle at the corners of my eyes and slip down my cheeks as I head downstairs to my bedroom. I can’t stop them from flowing, from mourning a love I’ve always wanted, but could never have. My heart bleeds for a man that can never be mine.