S is for SEX

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S is for SEX Page 51

by Scott Hildreth


  I stood from my chair and removed my wallet. “As a matter of fact, I do. Get your ass in the bathroom. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Seriously? The bathroom?” she squeaked as she pointed her finger over her shoulder and to the rear of the restaurant.

  I cleared my throat and pointed to the bathroom. “Now, Karter. Go!”

  She lowered her head, stood, and walked toward the bathroom. I dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the table and covered it with my glass. I looked up and watched as Karter walked toward the hallway that led to the bathroom. As she walked with her shoulders slumped, I felt bad for acting stern. Surely she realized I was joking. As she entered the hallway, and was away from the view of the restaurant, she turned to face me and removed her shirt and bra. Now twirling them above her head, she took off in a dead run to the bathroom.

  I shook my head and walked toward the bathroom. As I knocked on the door, she answered from the other side.

  “Who is it?”

  “Let me in,” I said softly.

  “Sorry, it’s occupied.”

  I scanned the empty hallway. I beat my hand against the door sharply. “Open the door.”

  “Sorry, it’s occupied,” she said in an elevated tone.

  I beat against the door with my clenched fist. “Karter, open the damned door.”

  She opened the door slightly. Naked, except for her sneakers, she stood on the other side of the door.

  “Oh, I thought you were someone else. Well, hurry up before someone sees me,” she said as she waved her hand toward the large bathroom.

  I stepped inside the door and locked it behind me. Her clothes were neatly folded on the sink. I reached toward the towel dispenser and smacked it sharply with the back of my fist. The hinged cover immediately fell open. I removed the towels, looked at Karter, and dropped them into the toilet.

  “What the fuck was that about?” she whispered.

  I flushed the toilet three times. Finally, the towels disappeared into the swirling water.

  “Get on your knees,” I demanded.

  She smiled and lowered herself to her knees. “Oh, you going to face fuck me? Utter torture.”

  She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Seeing her naked with her sneakers on was a huge turn on. I unzipped my jeans and pushed them to mid-thigh. As I positioned my cock onto her lips, she eagerly began to lick the shaft and suck the tip.

  As she slurped and sucked, I pushed her to the wall between the sink and the trash receptacle. She opened her eyes and looked upward. As she watched the expression on my face, I began to push myself in and out of her throat forcefully. As I watched my cock disappear into her mouth I moaned loudly.

  After several seconds of face-fucking as Karter described it, I was far too excited to continue. I wasn’t done toying with her yet, and needed to change to something different to keep myself from reaching climax too quickly.

  “Get up,” I demanded as I pulled my saliva covered cock from her mouth.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she stood. “Oh, do you want this pussy?”

  I looked around the bathroom. I had very few options. “Bend over the sink.”

  She saluted as she spoke. “Yes, Sir.”

  As she bent over the sink, she arched her back and raised her ass into the air. I looked down at the floor. She was on her tip-toes. Without a doubt, I wouldn’t last long in this position. I waddled to the sink and gripped her waist in my hands. As I released her right side, I guided the head of my cock past her pussy lips and stood still. As I slapped her on the ass, I thrust myself deep into her in one forceful motion.

  She grunted and buried her face in her folded clothes.

  “Jesus, Jak. Thanks for the warning,” she said.

  I pounded away without reservation. As I eagerly watched myself disappear into her wet swollen mound repeatedly, she gripped the edge of the sink in her hands.

  “Fuck me Jak,” she grunted over her shoulder.

  I worked my hips back and forth aggressively. As my upper thighs slapped against her ass, the sound of flesh on flesh echoed throughout the room. I released her waist and twisted my hand through her hair. After collecting most of it in my hand, I pulled rearward, forcing her to arch her back even more. The angle of her body combined with my deep savage strokes was more than I was prepared for. After a short time, she began to groan.

  “Harder…Jak…fuck me harder.”

  I pounded away as I looked down between the cheeks of her ass. My cock magically disappeared into her wet pussy with each thrust. I pulled her hair firmly as I pushed myself against her. I felt my cock beginning to swell. Within a few seconds, I knew this was going to end

  As I felt her begin to climax, I pulled my cock from inside her.

  “On your knees,” I demanded.

  After a split-second hesitation, she turned and dropped to her knees.

  “Fuck yes, cum in my mouth. I want to taste you,” she said as she opened her mouth.

  I stroked my swollen cock until I felt the pressure building. As I lowered the tip to her mouth, I felt myself begin to explode. As I began to spurt cum into her mouth, I moved the tip of my cock and sprayed her face with cum. The excitement of being in the bathroom, Karter’s eagerness to fuck in public, and the fact I had not reached climax in four days was apparent by the amount of cum covering her face. The last spurt landed directly in her falsely colored blue eyes.

  As she looked up at me in a face of somewhat disgust, I gazed down and smiled.

  “Jesus. What the fuck? Are you a porn star? You fucking covered me in that shit,” she gasped.

  I turned, shuffled to the toilet and removed the roll of toilet paper. I tossed it into the toilet and flushed repeatedly until it disappeared. I turned to face her. Cum dripped from her chin and onto her breasts as she attempted to wipe it from her eyes. I pulled my jeans from my thighs to my waist and stuffed my flaccid cock into them. As I buckled my belt, she turned toward me. She was still covered in cum with her eyes closed.

  She held her hands in the air with squinted eyes. “Will you hand me something to clean this shit off?”

  I reached for the door handle and smiled, knowing there was nothing but her clothes to wipe off with.

  “You’ll figure something out. My old eyes can’t see too well.”

  I opened the door to the bathroom and walked to my bike.

  And with each and every step I felt more and more like a biker.

  SNATCH

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  NINE. Elena stood over Meghan, who was seated beside Shellie on the bench.

  “So, what the fuck are we gonna do little miss know it all?” Elena asked.

  Meghan had spent the majority of the previous night comforting and preparing Dana for her departure. Describing it as a departure made it more reasonable, more realistic, and less permanent than calling it anything else. Meghan now dressed in sweats and a tank top like the other women, sat with Shellie, hoping that nothing bad had actually happened to Dana. Although she had no basis for this belief, her considering it made everything Ryan was doing seem plausible.

  “I don’t fucking know. To tell you the truth, I really didn’t think he’d take Dana. I felt like it would never come down to that. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know,” Meghan complained.

  Elena sat down on the bench beside Shellie and leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thighs. “Well, if we don’t have a plan, this is gonna get really shitty really quick.”

  Meghan stood from the bench and placed her hands on her hips. “Like it’s not already shitty.”

  Shellie rotated her hand and looked at what little was left of her fingernails. “Dana’s gone. It’s bad already.”

  Elena stood from the bench and faced Meghan. “This crazy fuck. We have to try to kill him when he comes back. We have to. We don’t have an option.”

  “How?” Meghan asked.

  “Well, fuck. I don’t know. Let’s talk about it,” Elena said.
“When he had me in the basement talking to me, he had a Taser. He didn’t have a gun. He had it and handcuffs. He’s strong, but he can’t overpower three of us.”

  Elena motioned toward Shellie who continued to nibble at her fingernails as the two women spoke. “Well, two. Two of us. She ain’t got much to offer.”

  Meghan’s eyes shifted toward the door. “Ok, so when he opens the door, what do we do?”

  “The door pushes into the room. There’s a handle outside, in the basement, not an inside handle. We can’t grab it and pull it. We have to just try to overpower him, or we all rush the door? What are you thinking?” Meghan asked.

  “Well, when he opens it, when we hear it click, two of us could be right there, and be ready for his ass. And just take off running. Fuck I don’t know,” Elena said.

  “If we do that, what could go wrong?” Meghan asked.

  No one responded.

  “I guess, if he pulls it open and sees us - he just pulls it shut and leaves us here forever to die. That’s what his crazy ass would do. So, we have to be on the side of the door that he can’t see,” Meghan reasoned.

  Elena appearing frustrated, walked over to the far side of the room and stared at the door. As she crossed her arms and stared, she shook her head. “That doesn’t do us any good. Because then we gotta get to the opening, and he’ll just see us whenever we try and move over there.”

  For Elena to allow herself to be taken into the other room, tortured, killed or even released, was going to be a chore for anyone, and Meghan could see and sense it. Elena had become far more tense since Dana had left, and she was outwardly showing it. When the time came for Ryan to come and take Elena from the room, he was certainly going to have his hands full. As Elena started cussing in Spanish and staring at the door, Meghan began to wonder what problems Elena’s demeanor could cause if she irritated Ryan.

  Meghan believed that she had heard a car leave the garage thirty minutes after Ryan had taken Dana out of the room. That would be roughly the amount of time it would have taken Ryan to kill Dana, prepare the body for transportation, load it, and leave the premises from what Meghan could figure. The other women complained at Meghan’s request for confirmation of what she had heard, claiming that they heard nothing.

  Meghan pointed to the benches beside her, behind where the door swung when opened. “What if this. What if, when he takes Shellie to the door, we’re back here.”

  All eyes were on her.

  She walked in the direction that she was pointing. “Where we were before, when he got Dana?”

  “We haven’t decided if I was next,” Shellie said softly without looking up from her fingernail gnawing.

  “Well, when he comes to the door, he will ask her to turn around. She’s slow at everything she does, and she can turn really slow, taking a little extra time. He’ll become frustrated at her, but not at us. As he waits for her, we rush the door, and yank it open. Whoever gets to the door, the other one will, with Shellie’s help, overpower Ryan. How’s that sound?” Meghan asked as she faced Elena, who still stood along the far wall.

  Elena shook her head. “It sounds like we’re trying to plan putting up a volley ball net for a fucking beer party. What if this thing goes to shit? We’re fucked. El Mero Chingon comes in, and we’re just fucked.”

  “You know. We can do all this planning we want, and this fuckers gonna make it impossible to do it just by one little change in how he opens the door or how he does something. Then, we’re sitting here stupid. And dead. Fuck this puto. I want to choke him or dig his eyes out when I’m in the other room. When he takes me to kill me, I’m gonna head butt that fucking pendejo. Maybe, when he takes me, I’ll kick him in his fucking cajones.” Elena said.

  Meghan, began walking through the room and attempting to devise a plan of escape. She considered seducing Ryan if the opportunity presented itself. She was convinced from the moment she sat in the trunk and made eye contact with him that he was attracted to her. Her discussions with the other women, although she had not outwardly spoken of her thoughts and feelings, had invited the other women to discuss their feelings. She had no information volunteered to lead her to believe that any of the other women had either an opportunity or an indication that Ryan was in the least bit attracted to them.

  Meghan stood between the entrance door and where Elena was standing as she thought of Ryan. “Let me just think for a while.”

  Generally speaking, Meghan believed she was a very good judge of a person, their thoughts, and what they were feeling. Ryan may be psychotic, or he may simply be very calculating, planning, and compulsive. She wasn’t able to know for sure. She believed, based on what she knew about people in general, that he was attracted to her. Ultimately, would that mean that she could convince him to act on his feelings? She couldn’t decide. She did know if she didn’t try, she’d never accomplish it. Exhausted from lack of sleep, she leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and thought of Ryan and his very handsome appearance when he opened the trunk of the car. As her eyes closed, and she began to relax, she slumped to the floor.

  As Ryan opened the trunk lid, Meghan sat up in the large open trunk. Sore from the trip, she shrugged her shoulders and looked up into his steel blue eyes. Ryan looked down and smiled a slow smile. Meghan was surprised by his masculine features and soft boyish skin. His average height was overshadowed by his strong muscular appearance. Even though he wore slacks and a dress shirt, his muscular build was apparent through his shirt as it clung to his pectoral muscles.

  Meghan wanted him to remove the tape from her mouth. As he reached into the trunk, she itched for his touch.

  “I’m going to remove the tape from your mouth. Do you hear me you cute little bitch?” Ryan asked.

  Uncomfortably aroused, she knew nothing more than to nod her head. She was already wet from her thoughts as they had driven, and now – looking at Ryan made it much worse. As she shifted the weight on her hips in the trunk, she felt the depth of her wetness between her legs. Embarrassed, she looked down and then immediately back up at Ryan.

  She nodded.

  He pulled the tape from her mouth quickly. Eagerly, she began to speak.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Meghan cooed.

  “My name’s Ryan Capshaw, and I’ll do whatever I fucking want, Meghan. You know why?” Ryan asked as he rubbed the palms of his hands up and down the length of his thighs.

  “No?” she breathed, wondering how he knew her name.

  “Because you’re mine. I own your little ass from here on out. I took you from your meaningless life, and now you belong to me,” Ryan bragged.

  “Sit up straight,” he demanded.

  She sat up straight in the trunk, pushing her chest toward him as he spoke. He appeared to notice her efforts, and glanced in the direction of her breasts as they heaved forward. As he focused on her chest, she raised her cuffed hands behind her back, straining her shoulders, and forcing her breasts even further toward him.

  He leaned forward and peered down at her. “Your boobs are bigger than the other girls.”

  He was so close that she could feel his breath on her neck as he spoke. She wasn’t familiar of the scent that he wore, but she knew from this day forward, she would never forget it. He placed his right hand on her neck and squeezed lightly.

  “I’m going to lift you out of this trunk, Meghan. I’m not going to have any trouble from you, am I?” he asked as he squeezed her neck with a little more force.

  Her mouth opened, and an almost inaudible ‘no’ escaped as Ryan leaned forward, his waist now within inches of her face.

  She felt his free hand reach to her breast. Naturally, she pulled away from his grasp.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Meghan? Don’t resist me. Do not ever resist me, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He squeezed her breast through her shirt.

  Meghan felt herself become even more aroused as Ryan fondled her breasts. He reached d
own with his right hand and lifted the front of her shirt, exposing her bra. As he tried to lift if further, he became frustrated that her handcuffs prevented the removal of the shirt from her torso. Aggravated, he growled under his breath and removed a knife from the pocket of his slacks.

  “Don’t move. I don’t want to cut you. At least not yet,” he said as he used the knife to slice the shirt that he had bunched into his grasp.

  As he tossed the shirt in the trunk, he folded the knife and placed it back into his slacks pocket. His right hand now reached back to her throat, squeezing it firmly as he pulled her bra up, exposing her breasts.

  He unbuckled his belt and removed his slacks. “Hold still, Meghan.”

  As his slacks fell to the floor of the garage, he removed his shoes and kicked his slacks a few feet beside where he stood. Now standing before her in stark white boxer briefs, the muscles in his legs flared as he repositioned where he stood. The bulge in his briefs provided reassurance that he was very well endowed.

  Sitting upright in the trunk of the car, her shirt cut in two and on the floor of the trunk, Meghan yearned for Ryan to touch her. Five years without a husband, mate, or any form of sexual contact had left Meghan with a burning desire for what she believed that Ryan offered her. As Ryan pressed his briefs with his thumbs, pushing them past his now hard cock, she shifted in the trunk and leaned forward in anticipation.

  “Open your mouth,” Ryan demanded.

  He dropped his briefs in the pile of clothes beside the car. Without hesitation, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, waiting for his cock to be forced deep into her mouth.

  “Open, Meghan. Your eyes will be open,” Ryan demanded.

  She opened her eyes and mouth at the same time. “Yes, Sir.”

  Her hands cuffed behind her back and helpless, Meghan leaned forward with an open mouth. Ryan stood before her, naked from the waist down, stroking his cock slowly. As the anticipation mounted, she watched him stroke himself to a full erection. As he leaned toward the edge of the trunk, she moved closer, hoping to feel his cock throbbing in her mouth. His hands reached for her breasts, pushed up by the bra beneath them, and began to squeeze.

 

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