Down & Dirty

by Ashley Johnson

My mouth waters when I see Nixon’s beautiful cock standing at attention before me. He puts his hands behind his head and studies me while I look on with rapt attention at his member.

  “You gonna get on with it, or are you going to look at my dick all day baby?” he jokes.

  I take the hint and wrap one hand around his thick length, giving it a few pumps before moving my face closer and sticking my tongue out. I give him one long lick up his length and then tease the sensitive slit a few times before taking him fully into my mouth.

  Nixon moans long and loud when my lips wrap around him above my hand and I savor the sound. I hollow out my cheeks and give him one long, slow suck down, then back up.

  As soon as his hands dive into my hair and try to grab hold, I decide he’s worked up well and good, and needs to be taught a lesson in waiting.

  I lean back, away from his grabby hands and push myself off my knees.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Get back down here and finish what you started, woman,” he grumbles.

  I smile and start walking toward the door. “Give me just a second. I thought of something that will make me sucking you off even better,” I tell him with a sly smile and a wink.

  “Yeah, thinking outside the box. That’s what I like to hear.”

  Before I can walk out of my office, I grab his shorts, along with the black boxer briefs tucked inside of them, and pretend I’m walking toward my kitchen. Instead I throw is underwear and shorts on and call Otis to me, acting as if I just passed by him and was giving him a little puppy love.

  Then, I put his leash on and walk out the front door, deciding that Otis looks like he needs a long walk.

  When I’ve walked Otis around the block, which takes us quite a while because the houses on my block are spread at least a mile and a half long, I am trying so hard not to laugh knowing that Nixon has no boxers or shorts in the house, so he has to wait for me to get back before he can do anything.

  He could probably find a pair of Collin’s shorts and take off, but I know that he’ll wait around to find out what’s going on.

  I wonder if he’s still lying on the ground in my office waiting for me or if he got up and went searching around the house for me, the thought makes me smile.

  When I open my door I burst out laughing at what I find.

  Nixon is sitting in my living room, elbows on his knees, in his white t-shirt and what used to be a pair of my black boy shorts that are now stretched to their maximum capacity.

  “What the hell was that?” he grits out, sounding pretty pissed with my disappearing act.

  I’m trying to keep myself from laughing uncontrollably so I shut my eyes as tight as I can and think of something the opposite of Nixon in my panties funny.

  Watching paint dry.

  Child birth.

  The Shawshank Redemption.

  When I get myself under control I turn my attention back to him.

  “That,” I tell him trying to quell the humor in my tone, “was me showing you what the word ‘wait’ means.”

  “Wait?”

  “Yes, wait. I gave you the ‘wait just a minute’ finger when you showed up in my office. If you could have waited just a few minutes until I finished my meeting with one of my sponsors we both could have enjoyed that a lot more.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t think you could have enjoyed that any more than you did, seeing as you were fucking dripping on my hand from the second I touched you,” he says, anger lacing his cocky tone.

  “Yeah, but if you could have just waited a few more minutes I would have enjoyed it a lot more than I did and then I wouldn’t have left you hanging either,” I explain and point at the way too tight panties he’s still wearing.

  “Yeah, about that, there is still a situation that you need to take care of, but now you get to start from the very beginning.” He points to his crotch that isn’t hard anymore, telling me that I now have to get him worked up. “And you can bet your ass that you’re going to take care of it. You owe me,” he says, pointing a finger at me.

  “Okay, I’ll get on it.” I drop his shorts I’m wearing to the ground along with his boxers, and then strip off my tank and sports bra before walking toward him, adding as much sway to my hips as I can.

  I pull up on the hem of his shirt and, with his assistance, get it over his head. Then taking a page out of the Book of Nixon, I grab the hem of my barely held together panties and pull as hard as I can, proud when the stitching gives and the fabric falls to the floor.

  As soon as that happens, Nixon goes hard.

  After that, I make him feel good and just before he can come he makes us both feel good.

  Chapter 11

  Tonight is a promo party for some sports corporation that made a motocross movie that I was in. I didn’t know anything about it because Collin hadn’t mentioned it to me until yesterday, but it was being held at some botanical garden and I couldn’t turn down the invitation.

  My mom was in love with flowers and it showed around our house while she was alive. We had flowers in every corner of the yard, floral furniture, and even floral wallpaper in my parents’ bathroom.

  My dad still has that wallpaper up to this day. I asked him once why he didn’t remove it and put up something more masculine since mom was gone. He just told me “mama will always be in this house. She would be heartbroken if I got rid of her flowers.”

  She would make a monthly date day for the two of us where she would check me out of school for ‘a day of fun’, her words on my check out slip, and take me with her to see the flowers.

  She is the reason I have tattoos of different flowers on my right arm. It is covered in roses, daisies, poppies, orchids and pansies in many different colors in memory of my beautiful mother and the colorful life she lived.

  So, in honor of my mom and her debutant upbringing that she had also tried to instill in me before she got sick, I put on my most classy tea length dress to attend this party.

  The dress is light blue and frilly, looking like something straight out of the show Mad Men. My simple black high heels go perfectly with the dress and work wonders on my calves.

  An hour into the party I decide that I want to split away from a group of guys I knew through motocross and walk around the grounds to get a look at the flowers that were still alive, which weren’t many since it was late October.

  Half way through my wandering I felt an arm at my elbow, but before I could turn to see who that hand belonged to I was being pushed toward a large grouping of cherry blossom trees.

  I thought about screaming and letting anyone within a ten mile radius know that I was around, but before I could open my mouth to let out an ear piercing shriek I heard him whisper in my ear.

  “Thanks for wearing a dress tonight, sugar. It makes fucking you against this tree much easier on me.”

  As soon as my body relaxes Nixon wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my back into his chest as he leads me off the cement path through the uneven ground to the center of the small forest of trees.

  When he feels that we’re out of everyone’s line of sight he turns me and leans closer. I scoot back and press my back into the rough trunk of the beautiful tree and tilt my head up so I can see him.

  “Okay, you got me here, what do you plan to do to me?” I tease in what I hope is a seductive tone.

  “Oh sugar, I’m going to do so many things to you in the time we’re together that you won’t be able to think of things you’ve done with other men. I’ll be the only one on your mind for years to come.”

  He leans in and bites down on my lower lip then soothes it with his tongue before attaching his mouth to mine in an earth shattering kiss.

  There is nothing sweet and gentle about this kiss. Nixon gives new meaning to the word ravaging. While his mouth devours mine his hands move to the middle of my outer thighs and I can feel him bunching my dress up in his hands in an effort to lift it.

  When he finally reaches the end of t
he fabric, his fingers run across and then up the insides of my thighs and make swift contact with my bare pussy. When he realizes I’m not wearing any underwear he groans and pulls away from my mouth.

  “Going commando tonight? You saucy little minx. I always knew you were a bad girl,” he whispers and then moves his mouth to the side of my neck, sucking and biting as my hands reach for the button on his jeans.

  “Well I was hoping that I would get fondled under a tree while hundreds of people walked around us tonight,” I tease, but then shift my attention to getting Nixon’s pants down.

  There are lots of people at this party and, even though there weren’t that many when I was on the path, more could have come up from the reception center a few yards away to enjoy the trees and flowers now.

  Too bad for those people becuase I’m super turned on and I need Nixon to fuck me now.

  I get his jeans unbuttoned and shoved down enough for his thick cock to spring free and grab onto his hips to pull him closer to me.

  He inserts two fingers inside me, probably to make sure I am ready for him, then removes them and grabs my left thigh tightly before hiking it up in the air.

  I remove one hand from his hip and grasp his thickness then guide it into me.

  We both let out a small sigh when he’s firmly planted inside me but Nixon didn’t hesitate before pounding into me with fervor.

  He works hard and fast to build me up and within minutes I am tipping over the edge, and pulling his face to mine so I could release my moan in his mouth.

  I don’t want the entire party knowing that Emmie Black had just come fast and hard after being drilled against the trunk of a tree.

  A few thrusts later Nixon is coming, his own groan drown out by the fusion of our mouths.

  He stays seated in me for a few seconds, his mouth lightly kissing my shoulder while we both catch our breaths, and then slowly pulls out of me.

  I right my dress, noting that I need to get to a bathroom and clean up quickly since I didn’t have any underwear on, and push my fingers through my loose hair, attempting to get rid of any tangles that may have accumulated during that little romp.

  Nixon pulls back slightly and through the setting sun I can see just the whites of his teeth as he smiles at me.

  “Thanks sugar. Enjoy the party,” he tells me in a hushed tone before he swats my ass.

  “Right back atcha,” I smile at him. He backs up and walks out of the cluster of trees, looking around for anyone who could be standing near us.

  I smile and walk in the opposite direction, hoping no one knew why I just came out of the middle of the garden, and move toward the restrooms.

  After cleaning myself up I walk back into the reception center to grab a drink before they begin watching the movie.

  I spot Nixon across the room, standing with a group of guys. He is also looking at me and shoots me a small wink before turning back to the conversation.

  “Hey Emmie, glad you came tonight,” I hear behind me. I swivel around to find Brett, one of the film makers that I’ve met a handful of times smiling at me.

  “Hey Brett, yeah I wouldn’t miss this,” I grin. Then Brett’s eyes move from my face to my neck and he squints.

  “Hey what happened to your shoulder? It looks like you have a few bruises there.” He points to the top of my shoulder and I furrow my brow before I turn to walk a few steps toward a mirror mounted on the wall.

  That asshole gave me hickeys! And not just one, there are about four there. How in the hell did he leave so many when we weren’t going at it that long? And how did I miss them when I was in the bathroom?

  I look across the room, spotting Nixon once again and noticing his head is bent down and his body is shaking in what seems like uncontrollable laughter.

  At first I think it might be something that one of the guys he’s standing around said, but then his head comes up and his eyes lock onto mine and he laughs harder.

  I narrow my eyes at him, thinking this little arrangement might just be over before it gets really good, but then I realize that I absolutely loved what we just did and couldn’t give it up just yet.

  I shake my head softly a few times and then turn my attention back to Brett. “Yeah, they’re bruises. I forgot that I crashed the other day during practice and my shoulder landed on the bars. They’re in that purplish ‘look like a hickey’ phase. I totally forgot about them.”

  Brett seems appeased by my answer because he changes the subject and also introduces me to a few of the other guys that made the film.

  I avoid looking over at Nixon the rest of the night, telling myself that when I get my hands on that cocky, hickey leaving son of a bitch, I might just kill him. Or kiss him.

  I’m not opposed to either.

  Chapter 12

  The property I live on is absolutely awesome. I bought the house and the ten acres around it. My neighbors aren’t close which comes in handy when I ride a noisy dirt bike for a living, and the layout couldn’t be better.

  My immediate backyard is almost a full acre, giving Otis a ton of room to run and play, then behind that my dirt track takes up almost five acres of space. Behind that is my garden that I religiously tend to and behind that is a slightly wooded area that I never figured out what to do with. Instead I left it as it was and just put in some hammocks and a fire pit as a relaxing area.

  Which is where I’m sitting right now.

  I’ve had my monthly visit from that bitch Aunt Flo and I’m in a really bad mood. I’m crampy and agitated; basically you don’t want to fuck with me for about five days.

  Nixon had texted me this morning and asked if I was up for a little ‘sexy time’, his words, but I politely declined.

  I believe my exact words were “Fuck no. There will be no sexy time”.

  Then I grabbed my kindle and hopped on my bike to ride to the sitting area in my field. I didn’t want anyone to find me, and if they did they’d have hell to pay.

  After an hour of relaxing silence I hear Otis’ tags rattling on his collar as he runs toward me. I furrow my brow, distinctly remembering I told him that he didn’t want to be around the wicked bitch of the west right now and closing the back gate so he couldn’t get out of the yard.

  So what the hell is he doing out? Do I have a hole under the fence that I now have to fix?

  The idea immediately pisses me off and I sit up in the hammock, ready to tear a new one into Otis, when I see Nixon jogging behind him.

  Son of a bitch. I told him to leave me alone today. So much for the peace and quiet that I fucking wanted.

  When he reaches my side he bends down slightly and pats Otis on the head. “Thanks for helping me find her boy,” he cheers.

  “Yeah, thanks a lot you dick,” I grumble at my dog, who just tilts his head at my words.

  “Hey what’s the matter? I saw your truck and bike in the garage so I went inside and looked everywhere for you. Otis had to help me find you.”

  My mind instantly regrets giving him the spare key to my house for late night visits. Stupid idea.

  “Maybe I don’t want to be found, ever think of that?” I grit out, knowing I’m being a bitch right now but not being able to stop it. I turn into an bitch when my time of the month comes and just automatically plan on begging people I came in contact with during that time for their forgiveness at the words I said while thousands of pissed off fairies started a fight club in my uterus.

  “Whoa, what the fuck sugar? What’s up your ass?”

  Damn it, I really didn’t want him around this week. I just wanted to avoid him for five days and then get back together and have amazing sex with him like nothing happened. Women don’t like to explain why they turn into a crazy dragon lady for a week because men will never understand what we have to go through. We also might be a little bitter, as well.

  Why couldn’t they be cursed with this problem, too?

  “Nothing is up my ass, Nixon. I just want to be left alone for a while. Consider this my notice
that the Vagina Diner is closed for repairs for the next week. Sorry to have to break it you,” I raise my brows at him and give him a sarcastic smile, then lay down and avert my attention back to my novel about notorious killers. Something I might take a few hints from if he doesn’t leave immediately.

  He chuckles and then steps to the bottom of my hammock and pushes my feet to the edge before plopping himself in the opposite way from me.

  Ugh, why the hell couldn’t he have just taken the obvious hint? I don’t want to have sex with him today, or maybe ever again.

  As soon as his body is settled, he grabs hold of my bare foot and begins rubbing it. What the hell? Even though it feels amazing, I’m confused. Does he think that a little foot rub will change my mind about sleeping with him?

  “What are you doing Nixon? I told you I didn’t want to have sex today.”

  His brow furrows and his eyes get hard as he analyzes me.

  “I know that Emmie. Can’t I just sit here and enjoy hanging out with you without sex involved?”

  Huh, I didn’t know what that sweet feeling flowing through my belly was, but it had never happened before, especially when I was pissed at the world for no reason.

  “Um, it’s never happened before,” I remind him. We agreed that this was only sex, nothing more. So why does it feel so good to have him want to be with me for no other reason than just to be with me?

  “Shut up, Em. I finished riding today with some buddies of mine and was just thinking about you. I wanted to come over and hang out, maybe watch a movie or something. We won’t have sex at all. I promise.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” he repeats me.

  “Yeah, why? For over a month all we’ve done is have sex. We never hang out after, so why now?” I ask.

  He lets out a huff of air and looks up at the tree canopy like it holds the answer he’s looking for.

  “Because I really like being with you and I don’t like to see you as upset as you are right now. If I can help out with your anger, I will. And if I find that you are way too much to handle this week, I’ll know to avoid you this time next month,” he smirks, making me want to kick him in the ribs.