by Tina Pollick
“James.” He was in his twenties and devastatingly gorgeous, with a hard, lean body, showcased in a tight white tank top and low slung dark jeans. His blonde, messy hair and blue eyes were perfect for her plans. She felt herself throbbing. He was definitely her “type”.
“I'm Tamara,” she whispered.
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You're fucking gorgeous, Tamara.”
Her eyes went wide and her nipples tightened. “Am I?” She whispered back.
“Hell yes. I go on break in about fifteen minutes. Could I convince you to go on break with me?” He looked into her face and stroked his fingertip against her hand.
She paused for a split second, warring with herself. “Yes.”
“Awesome,” James smiled wickedly. “Let me finish up a few things. Want another drink, Tamara?”
She realized she'd drained her first and it was delicious. “Yeah, James, I want another.” She wiggled her eyebrows, clenching her quivering thighs. She found herself getting wet just from his stare. He made her another drink and slid it to her before taking care of a few other patrons. The drum of the sexy music playing in the bar coincided with the drum between her thighs. She knew damn well that she and James weren't going to make pleasantries on his break. This was it; she was going to have sex.
He kept stealing glances in her direction and she felt the alcohol flooding her senses, heightening her wanton desire. She licked her lips slowly and his eyes went wide, watching her little pink tongue. She shifted on the seat. I wouldn't be surprised if I leave a wet spot, she thought. Another bartender came behind the bar; a young girl in her twenties, hair in dreads and plenty of tattoos. James handed her his towel. “Thanks, Jessie. See you in an hour.”
Tamara throbbed. A whole hour. Oh God. James wiggled his brows and came up beside her, the rasp of his 5 o'clock shadow brushing her bare shoulder.
“You ready?”
“Almost,” she choked out.
“Come with me, then.” She bit her bottom lip at his double meaning. She took his tanned hand and he wove through the crowd, taking her to the back of the bar. He pulled her into a room and locked the door. She didn't have time to register where they were, because he pushed her up against the door roughly and kissed her, his firm lips claiming hers. He teased her mouth with his tongue and she opened for him. He swept in, tangling his tongue with hers. “Tamara,” he growled against her neck, pressing hot kisses to the tender skin there. She closed her eyes and focused on his wicked tongue fluttering against her skin. He was gripping her hips and she opened her legs as wide as the tight dress would let her. He stepped in between them and she felt his erection pressing against her lower belly. She throbbed harder.
She reached down and stroked his dick through his jeans. He hissed. “Do you like that?” She found herself whispering.
He ran his palms up her sides and caught her full breasts. “Do you like that?” He murmured back.
Her head fell back and she groaned. “Yes.” He stepped back and a rush of cool air made her look at him curiously. “What's wrong?”
He smiled and she realized they were in a break room. “Nothing, Beautiful. Take that dress off for me.”
She turned around and leaned against the door. Her ass stuck out and her skirt rode high. “Unzip me.” She bit her bottom lip as he came up behind her and pressed his cock into her almost bare ass, his jeans and a tiny scrap of black lace all that separated them. He slid the zipper down slowly and she peeled the dress off her shoulders, turning back around and letting it pool around her feet. She stepped out of the gown and leaned back against the door, the cold metal against her ass making her shiver.
“God damn, you are beautiful,” he growled as he peeled his tank top off. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't breathe, Tamara. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, unable to form words. Her pussy was throbbing to a wicked beat. “Are we going to get caught?”
He shrugged, unbuttoning his jeans. “Isn't that part of the fun, Beautiful?” He slid the zipper down and she found herself salivating as his long, hard cock sprang free.
“No boxers?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Nope. I don't need any.” He kicked his shoes off, the thud of them hitting the wall driving her crazy. He pulled some condoms from his back pocket before he peeled his jeans off and left them in a pile on the floor. She raised an eyebrow.
“Always keep them handy?” Her heart thudded.
He shrugged before sitting on the lone couch in the room. He looked incredible leaned back against the old plaid couch. Hell, he could be leaned back against anything and it would look good. “Get over here, Tamara.”
She pushed herself off the door and walked slowly to the couch, hoping she looked as sexy as she felt. He groaned, watching her incredible curves undulate toward him. “How do you want to do this?”
“However makes you come.” He slid a hand over her hip and squeezed her ass. “You tell me, Tamara.”
She pursed her lips and leaned forward, her pale hand circling his cock. He jerked. “I've never come,” she whispered.
“No? Then it's time you do. Keep touching me.” He caught the side of her thong and pulled it down, revealing her pussy for his eyes. “Mmm,” he murmured. “You are beautiful.” He slid one long tan finger between her lips and she shivered, her hand stalling on his cock. “Don't you stop, Beautiful.” He flickered her clit and her knees buckled.
He stood smoothly, easing her back to the door. “Keep your hand on my cock,” he groaned against her collarbone. His fingers stroked her hot pussy and she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. He slipped two fingers deep inside her and she nearly came undone. He slipped his fingers back to her clit and stroked her with her own honey until she could barely stand. She gripped his dick and held on for dear life, stroking him faster and faster as his fingers played on her heated slit. “Do you like this, Tamara?”
She couldn't find the words to answer, so she nodded. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, her breasts spilling out to his eyes. He caught one of her nipples in his mouth and worked her clit harder, swirling his fingers harder and harder over her nub until she saw stars. He slipped his fingers into her sheath and worked her fast as she rode the wave of her orgasm. As he slipped his fingers higher and pressed a secret spot deep inside, she found herself coming all over his hand.
She cried out and quivered all over. He pulled his hand from her pussy and smiled. “How was that?” He caught her nipple in his mouth again. She grabbed his head and held him to her, feeling the drumming building in her core again.
“Oh my God,” she cried out.
He released her nipple with a pop. “Take your panties all the way off, Tamara.” He stepped back and she ogled his incredible body, the muscles flexing as he fought for control. She bit her lip and looked at the glistening drop of pre-cum on the end of his cock.
“You want me.” She groaned.
“Hell yes I do. Panties off. Now,” he ground out.
“No.” She knelt, her legs going wide as she caught his cock in her hand. “Get that condom, James.” He gasped in shock as she stroked him. He reached behind him, finding the strip of condoms and pulled one off. “Give it here.” She ripped the package open and placed it on the tip of his cock. She put her lips over the latex and used her mouth to roll the condom down his dick. She'd always wanted to suck her ex husband's dick, but he'd never let her. She moved her mouth up and down his length, sucking for all she was worth. James tangled his hands in her hair and guided her. The condom tasted like shit, but she didn't care. He pulled at her hair gently.
“You need to stop.” She sucked him into her mouth one last time, then let him go. Her red lipstick was smeared all over the condom. He peeled it off and threw it to the floor, grabbing another condom from the pack and sliding it over his swollen head and down his length. She rose from the floor, teetering on her black heels. He caught the edge of her panties and pulled her to him, the delicate lac
e ripping. He growled. “These need to go anyway. I want to see your wet pussy, Tamara.” She gasped as he snatched the lace the rest of the way off and threw it on the floor. He slipped a finger between her lips and found her soaked sheath. He fingered her slowly. “Bend over the arm of the couch, Tamara,” he ordered.
She found herself eagerly bending over the arm of the old plaid couch, the side of her face buried in the material. He came behind her and pushed her legs open wide. “James, please,” she begged. He slipped his cock between her glistening lips and she arched back to take him in.
“Tamara,” he growled, grabbing her hips and pushing deep into her. She was completely filled to bursting by him. He drilled into her hard and fast, grunting as her walls tightened around him. She gave into the sensation, the feel of him pounding her slick heat more than she could take. She wantonly grasped her breasts and pulled her nipples, needing more. He pulled out quickly and she cried out.
“James!” She stood up and reached for him. He smiled wickedly and sat down on the couch, patting his sinewy thighs.
“Come here. I'm going to make you come everywhere, Tamara.” She climbed on top of him and placed her knees on either side of his legs. The bulbous head of his cock pressed into her heat and she groaned. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down, impaling himself in her tight, wet heat. He caught her nipple in his mouth and she threw her head back.
“Oh my God, James!” She felt the drumming in her pussy get harder and hotter. When he slipped a hand between her lips and pinched her clit between his rough fingers, she came undone, screaming out as she came around him. He moved quickly, never stopping his hard drilling into her core and lay her back against the couch and fucked her hard and fast. Sweat came up on his brow and dripped down on her breasts. She fondled her nipples and bit her lip, watching this gorgeous man fuck her. He came hard, hissing and growling out her name.
She flushed as she came around his hard cock again. He pulled out of her and kissed her mouth. “Baby, that was incredible.” He stepped back and pulled the condom off, tossing it, the one from the floor, and her panties in the trash. He slipped his clothes back on as she lay there processing the best sex she'd ever had. He caught her hand and pulled her to standing before helping her get her bra back on and slipping her dress over her head and zipping her up.
He kissed her mouth again, gently. “Tamara. You are beautiful and desirable. Don't ever let another man make you feel like you're not.” He tapped the pale ring of flesh on her left hand. “I gotta get back to work. Thank you for the fun.” He turned and walked out of the break room.
Her mouth gaped as she watched him leave. She walked back out to her car and drove home, feeling like a new woman, inside and out.
The End.
If you enjoyed this, try: http://www.amazon.com/September-Tango-ebook/dp/B00E2SE71O/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1375286684&sr=1-3&keywords=Scarlett+Jade
Desert Dreams
By
Sophia Jones
"Mama, Kylie let Mr. Quakers in again."
Shaylene Thomas turned, intending to reprimand her youngest for tattling, but was distracted by the sight of a feathered butt disappearing around the corner, and the splattered mess on her just-mopped kitchen floor.
"Kylie Elizabeth Thomas, front and center!" she yelled, then added an ominous, "Now."
Her oldest daughter appeared as if from the mists, Mr. Quakers tucked under one of her elbows, his webbed feet flailing in the air.
"Yes, mama?" Hopeful blue eyes stared up at her.
Shay made herself take a breath, then another until the flare of anger receded and her sense of humor returned. Am I really getting riled up over a little duck shit? But after a challenging day at work, a forty minute commute, preparing dinner for the girls, and then spending another half hour cleaning the kitchen, she was exhausted and her fuse short.
"Kylie, what's our rule about indoor pets?"
"But mama, the coyotes--"
Shay cut her off, having none of it. "What's the rule?"
Kylie dropped her head and stared at the floor, sullen. Finally she mumbled, "If it doesn't have fur, it doesn't come in."
"That's right, sweetheart." Then in a lighter tone, Shay asked, "Does Mr. Quakers have fur?"
Pout forgotten, Kylie giggled. "No, that's silly."
"As silly as a duck in the house, poopin' on my clean kitchen floor?"
Her daughter's baby blues, so much like her ex-husband's, clouded with contrition. "I'm sorry mama, I'll clean it up."
Shay nodded. "Thank you, sweetie. But first, please put Mr. Quakers back outside. He'll be fine. The coyotes can't get past the inner fence, and I doubt they'd come that close to the house anyway."
As Kylie complied, though not before heaving a reluctant sigh, Shay thought back to the incident that led to the fur-only rule. It had involved her tomboy daughters, a six foot long bull snake, and her kitchen sink. "But mama, we just want to see if he can swim!" Good lord, she still had nightmares.
A city gal born and bred, she'd managed to fall for an honest-to-goodness cowboy. Jake Thomas. He'd been a friend of a friend, an out-of-town visitor attending the same cocktail party on the seventeenth floor of a Chicago high-rise. It had been lust at first sight. A year later she was married, pregnant, and setting up house on a five acre spread of land in Arizona's high desert country, twenty miles from the nearest town.
At first she'd been appalled by the sheer distance between her home and ... everything. Forty mile round trip just to pick up a gallon of milk? The closest hospital more than an hour away?
But bit by bit, the desert seduced her with its quiet beauty. She'd go for walks with her girls and pick the orange and yellow wildflowers that sprang up from the cracked, thirsty ground. They'd sit out and watch the blazing sunsets morph into purple twilight, and then count the brightest stars she'd ever seen. Not that she had much to compare them to. She'd never paid attention to the night sky before, in her other life. She fell in love with the country even as she fell out of love with her husband. His affair didn't help. But Shay, always honest, knew their problems had started long before he put his boots under some other gal's bed.
He'd been a cheating bastard, but at least he had tried to be an honorable cheating bastard. Before disappearing to parts unknown, he deeded over the house and land solely to her. For a half a second, she'd consider selling the place and heading back to Illinois. But no. This was her girls' home, the only one they'd ever known, and it was her home now too.
So five years later here she was, able to handle the occasional field mouse her daughters brought in-- the creatures had fur after all-- but drawing the line at snakes and ducks. And life was good. Sure, she sometimes wished she didn't have to work so many hours, but what parent didn't? And on occasion she might yearn for a warm male body to curl into at bedtime, but not enough to do anything about it. For one thing, there weren't many eligible men around, for another, she'd really have to trust a man before she could let him become a part of her daughters' lives ... and trust, well, that was a tall order these days.
The crunch of gravel in her driveway pulled her from her thoughts, then a car horn blared and she grinned.
Elizabeth.
Her forever impatient sister-in-law. But heaven knew she adored the woman, enough to name her firstborn after her. The day her divorce finalized, Liz had given her a tearful hug and said, "Remember, you divorced him, not us," in reference to the Thomas clan scattered across the countryside.
Her own eyes watery, Shay had replied, "Well, duh," and returned Elizabeth's embrace, her grip fierce.
"Aunt Liz!" her youngest squealed, running across the living room.
"Walk please, Annabelle," Shay instructed automatically.
Her daughter slowed to a fast walk, then threw open the screen door with a bang. "Aunt Liz! I've been waiting for you forever!"
Shay sighed. Her oldest might be Elizabeth's namesake, but her youngest best matched her sister-in-law for temperament
. She followed her daughter out the front door and greeted Liz. "Hey, crazy lady. You still planning to take on my girls for the whole weekend?"
Liz looked up from hugging Annabelle and winked at Shay. "That's the plan and I'm stickin' to it. Tent's already set up in the backyard, and I rounded up every bar of chocolate and bag of marshmallows I could get my hands on. We're ready to rock."
"Ohmygosh, s'mores!" Annabelle screeched and started doing victory jumps around the front yard.
Shay raised her brows at Liz. "Uh huh, you really are nuts. Stealing your nieces and loading them up with sugar? Give me a call if you want me to pick them up early."
A strange look crossed Liz's face. "Um, Shay, about that ..." she trailed off, her gaze moving to Annabelle.
Intrigued but also concerned, Shay turned to her daughter. "Annabelle, you need to make sure the animals are fed before you leave. And while you're in there, nicely remind your sister to clean up the duck poo if she hasn't already. Then double-check that you both have your toothbrushes in your weekend bags."
"Yes, mama." Her daughter was quick to obey with the promise of camping and sweets in the future.
Once the screen door slammed behind her youngest, she turned to Liz. "What's up?"
Liz gave a nervous smile, not quite meeting Shay's eyes, then plopped down on the front porch swing. She patted the spot next to her. "Shay honey, why don't you have a seat, too."
"Ooo-kay," she answered, worry beating out her curiosity. "Liz, what's wrong?"
Her sister-in-law seemed to be struggling to find words, a first in the decade Shay had known her. Just then, a vehicle rumbled in the distance, interrupting them. Someone had turned down her dirt road. Both women watched a moving van amble past her driveway and continue on.
"Huh, someone must have bought the old Fredrickson place," Liz said, her hands wringing in her lap.
At any other moment, a new neighbor would have been big news; people were few and far between out here. But the last of Shay's patience had disappeared. "Damn it, what is it? What's wrong?"