by Alison Tyler
“Yes, ma’am.” I hung up to the sound of This is Jeopardy!
“Everything okay with Grandma?” the gigantic man said and leaned in. He grinned at me when I frowned. His teeth were white and even and, in the low light of the bar, looked wickedly sharp for some reason.
“My grandmother could kick your ass with one foot tied behind her back,” I snorted. I sucked down the rest of the martini and he replaced it with a fresh one, like a magic trick. The best magic trick ever. “But she just had a hip replacement and since I recently lost my job, I am going to go play nursemaid and possibly some pinochle.”
Hmm. Apparently the alcohol had loosened my lips.
“Is that so?” Mr. Humongous ran his fingernail down the modest but visible seam of my cleavage. Instinct said to ram him upside the head with my empty, but instead I made a soft needy sound in the back of my throat.
“Yes. She could. Kick your ass,” I stammered. “Phone. Where is that phone? I need to call a tow.”
The bartender pointed to the phone still on the bar. He had never taken it back. My scrambled brain and overactive nether regions had done a number on my perception. I squeezed my thighs tight and my pussy flexed. I could feel a hot line along the tender skin of my breasts where his finger had been. I wanted him to put it back. I wanted to feel him touch me again. Instead, I said, “The owner would have your head if he knew you’d done that.”
I gave him my best evil eye and completely ignored the vivid mental flash of wrapping my thighs around his waist while he fucked me.
“I am the owner,” he said, and grinned. “Wolff. Ryan Wolff, at your service. What can I do you for?”
I blew out a long, exhausted sigh. Then I gave in and said, “Tow truck. I need a tow.”
“I could drive you to Grandma’s when the bar closes. Wouldn’t that be easier?”
“And be alone with you?” And beg you to do things to me. And do things to you. We could do things together. I wonder what you taste like. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “That’s okay. Thanks ever so much but I’ll stick with a pro.”
“Fine by me,” he said, and handed me a business card. Then he disappeared. His big wide shoulders, his fine chiseled jaw, his hot fingers.
I punched in the number on the card and it was answered by a gruff and rude man. “Yeah?”
“I need a tow.”
“No kidding. What a surprise. Since we are a towing company.”
I frowned. Jerk. It also said “mechanics” on the card, but I wasn’t going to argue. “I am at Wolff’s Tavern. How soon can you be here?”
“About two.”
“Two!”
“Did I stutter?”
“Fine. I’ll just call another tow company,” I threatened. I sipped my cold martini and thought it might be a good idea to get some food. Food would be brilliant.
Quiet laughter snaked into my ear through the phone cord. Forget the fact that I could not remember the last time I had held a phone that actually had a cord. “Good luck with that. The closest one besides us is about four hours away. That would put you at about four in the morning.”
Very bad words fluttered to my lips and I swallowed them. “Fine,” I said between gritted teeth. “I will wait for you. It’s a sixty-six-and-a-half Mustang.”
“Good for you. You riding with me?”
“I have to.”
“Right. See you at two. What’s your name?”
“Ruby Brunner.”
He sang a bar of the old Drifters song, Ruby Baby, softly. And then he hung up.
“Weirdo.”
Wolff came back wiping his hands on a bar rag. “Who’s a weirdo?”
“Where do I start?” I sighed and finished martini number two. “I need slumfwood,” I said. I blinked and tried again. “I meet some food.”
“You need some food, babe,” he said, and leaned in and kissed me. Hard. Like the cretin he was, he forced his lips against mine almost angrily. I felt my lips plump up from the rough pressure and before disengaging, he bit my bottom lip so that I hissed in pain. In direct contrast my pussy went wet for him. I felt warm fluid pleasure and wanted to tell him to forget the food. Let’s go in the back room.
I didn’t. Instead, I said, “Got any hot dogs?”
“Boy, you like to eat,” he said. He was watching my lips as I finished my fourth dog. I licked my lips just to mess with him and he clenched his big stubbly jaw. “Careful, Red, don’t think I don’t know you did that on purpose. Be careful how you taunt me. I’m a bit of an animal.”
I rolled my eyes and finished my Coke. I was ready for another drink. “Ooh, I’m so scared, Wolff. What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch. The watchband was a leather cuff. Battered and busted brown leather that somehow turned me on to the point of panting. “It’s a quarter to two.”
“And you are bare-ass empty in here,” I said. “So, you should lock up.” I coughed softly. He was staring at my breasts. The sensation I felt from his gaze was similar to having his hand on my throat. Gently squeezing my breath into submission.
“I guess I’ll lock up in a minute.” He disappeared again and I dug in my hobo bag for my wallet. Four hot dogs, two martinis, two Cokes. Christ, I hoped I had enough cash to pay him.
Maybe you could barter with him if you don’t. Maybe you could offer him a service for his hospitality.
Before I could even consider the voice in my head, I heard a blaring air horn and hopped off the stool. Part of me was thrilled to be headed to Grandma’s, part of me was bummed that nothing had come of the animal attraction between me and Wolff.
“Wolff! The tow truck is here! Come out and let me pay you.”
Nothing.
Another long blast of the horn and my head felt like someone was ringing the Liberty Bell in there. “Christ. How does that guy not go deaf?” I pushed the heavy door open. I would just tell the driver to hold on while I found Ryan and paid him. Maybe get just one more kiss—
“Come on, Red,” he said, leaning out the driver’s side of the huge tow truck. Father Bill was still in the parking lot, and he was grinning like a predator who smelled good vittles. His sharp white teeth glowing in the sodium streetlamps.
Wolff was the tow-truck driver. The door read AW Mechanics and Towing. Was this a one-man town? Tavern owner, mechanic, tow-truck service. Was he the mayor and the sheriff, too? I caught the keys he tossed my way a split second before they could smack me in the forehead. I locked the door and made my way to him. This should be interesting.
“I brought that out of the car.” He nodded toward the floorboard. His big hand settled on my thigh. I jumped. I felt my body jolt. There was no hiding it. But on the inside, oh dear, on the inside I felt like I was being shocked with the most decadent electricity. My body was humming with attraction and excitement. His big mitt traveled farther up until his pinkie stretched out and for the briefest of moments traced the slit of my pussy. I sighed and shifted in my seat.
“Thank you. And why isn’t my car on the truck?” I squawked. I noticed my lone suitcase was shoved behind the bench seat.
“It needs work, babe. I’ll fix it for you. What’s in the basket?” He was clearly changing the subject.
I regarded the basket covered in red gingham fabric and tried to recall. It was for Grandma. A bunch of things to make her feel better and cheer her up. That much I recalled. Beyond that, I was drawing a blank because now he had spread his entire palm over my mound and his middle finger was rhythmically flexing against me. Stroke, stroke, stroke it went against my swollen clit. “Uh—”
“Food? Dirty magazines? Metamucil?” he asked, and laughed softly. It was an entirely sinister sound. “Come on, Red, surely you know what’s in your own present.”
His gruff, deep voice set the hair on the back of my neck on edge. I sucked in a great breath of air and recited. “Her favorites. Cinnamon thins, almond cookies, butter creams. A nice bottle of wine, which she shouldn’t have. A book of crosswords and a bott
le of her favorite shower gel.”
“Good girl,” he said, and reached down. He slid my long black skirt up. The calluses on his palm made a hissing sound on my skin. Heat trails bloomed under his firm touch and I slid lower in the seat. He wormed his finger under my blue silk panties and stroked me firmly until I moaned.
“You’re afraid of me,” he said. “I can smell it.”
I nodded. Sinking a bit lower, letting his big brutal fingers invade me as the truck rumbled and swayed under my bottom.
“And you like that. You’re wet, Red.” He flexed his fingers deep in my pussy. Stroked the greediest parts of me with a come-hither motion until I squirmed on the red pleather seat like a whore.
I nodded again. Verbal communication skills had deserted me.
The white-yellow headlights split the black night, and that storm I had felt coming lit up the sky with sickly yellow flashes of lighting. Booming filled my ears as Wolff propelled the truck with one big hand. The other big hand fondled me roughly between the thighs as I arched up to welcome more. Another harsh crack of thunder and I jumped.
“Red?”
“I don’t like storms,” I managed to say. I spread my legs wider to give him better access. I was willing to take the hit morally. I mean, I wasn’t supposed to be spread out before him and practically begging him to make me come, but in my defense, he knew what he was doing. And my body was already flirting with orgasm. And I wanted one. I really, really wanted a nice mind-numbing orgasm to take the bite out of a really bad day.
Wind buffeted the truck and the hand disappeared. “Whoa,” Wolff growled and I bit my tongue to keep from balking. It was unreasonable to expect him to maneuver the truck through the sudden deluge with one hand. Unreasonable. Really.
“Oh, it’s flooding,” I said, and then blushed. Yes. My panties were positively soaked, but what I meant was the road. Water gushed over the macadam and swirled around the debris the high winds propelled. Sticks and rocks and debris from the nearby highway. I held my breath. I did not like storms in general. I liked violent storms even less.
“This road is a bitch on wheels,” he said. His voice was like busted glass and gravel and barbed wire all rolled into one. I fought the urge to slither across the seat and put his hand back in my lap. I had clearly lost my mind.
“No, it’s pheromones you’re feeling,” he said as if he was reading the mind I had lost. “I have to pull over. This section is infamous for completely flooding out. More cars and motorists have been lost along this stretch than any other.” He nudged the giant black truck over to the shoulder and we sat. The truck vibrated and grumbled beneath us. I wanted to grumble, too.
“So, we just sit here?” I grumped.
“What else do you suggest?” he asked. When he turned to me his eyes flared white and green in the low light. I told myself it was the dashboard lights illuminating his naturally feral face.
“I—um—I was just—”
Wolff turned to me and shoved both hands up under my skirt. He hiked it up even farther, exposing the tops of my motorcycle boots and the thin scrap of my panties. “I say, snack time.”
I swallowed hard. Somehow I knew I was the snack. “I was just—” What? Was I really going to argue with him?
“Red, you know there’s no fighting me. I’m the Big, Bad Wolff,” he whispered, and my nipples peaked, hard little points in my soft gray sweater. Without thinking, I arched my hips up in his general direction. A silent, shameless plea for him to carry through with his threat.
He fought his way over the gearshift, and pushed his hand under my seat. The seat slid back quickly and I let out a surprised little whoop. He held my skirt back and ate me with his eyes first. “Well, look what we have here. Dessert,” he said, and ran his red, red tongue over his full lips.
Between my thighs, I was hot and wet and ready. Ready beyond comprehension. He tugged my panties roughly and I shimmied to help him along. When his shaggy head lowered, my heart stopped, or so it seemed. When his tongue lapped at me, hot and wet and slick, I fisted my hands in his hair. I tugged. Hard. I didn’t care if I hurt him. “Oh, please,” I said mindlessly.
“Please what? Please don’t, Mr. Wolff? Please do? Please don’t stop? Please go faster?” He pushed his fingers deep inside me and my hips jerked up on their own. I mewed softly, ashamed of my shamelessness.
“All of it,” I said.
He fucked me hard with his fingers but soft with his tongue. For every brutal thrust of his digits, his lips adored me. I felt myself hovering right there on the edge. Right on the cusp of letting go and christening him with my juices. “Do it for me. I’m far from done, sweet thing. We have time for a mating, if you will, and then when the storm passes, we’ll get you to Grandma’s house all safe and sound.”
He thrust higher with his big fingers and sucked my clit firmly between his lips. I came with a plea, but I couldn’t tell you what I was pleading for. Most likely it was for more.
I couldn’t see his hands but I heard his zipper. Even over the pounding rain, my ears picked up that sound. He pushed my thighs wide and muttered, “Open.” I opened as far as I could as the velvety hard head of his cock pushed against me. My body split wide and accepted him. He rocked into me as deep as he could go. Just as I had fantasized at the tavern, I wrapped my legs around his hips as he sank his teeth into the sweetest spot where my neck met my shoulder.
“You are tender, I’ll give you that,” he teased, and bit me again.
I dug my nails into his hips as far as I could and yanked my heels hard against his hips. Maybe I wanted to hurt him a little, too. Maybe I just wanted his cock as deep as it would go. Either way, a brutal flash of lightning flared and his face, darkly stubbled and somewhat lupine, lit up with an eerie light. He grinned at me and those teeth flashed again one more time before sinking into my flesh right above my collarbone. I came with a breathy little cry that evened out his deep animal growl as he emptied into me.
Just like that, the rain went from downpour to mist. He took a deep breath of me and I listened to his panting. He smelled like sweat and smoke and earth. My cunt flickered lazily around his cock. When he pulled free of me, he licked my lower lip before kissing me.
“Jesus,” I said.
“Ryan.” He laughed softly. “But thanks for the compliment.”
“We’d better go. My grandmother will be worried. I don’t know what I’ll tell her.”
“Tell her the Big, Bad Wolff stopped you on your way.”
“And?”
He shrugged and raised an eyebrow. I felt my body go soft and ready for him again. “And it was good?” he said. He got himself back behind the wheel.
I nodded. “Fair enough.” Good didn’t even begin to cover it. “How long will you be visiting Grandma?” He took a right and I recognized my grandmother’s street. She would have waited up. She would want to make sure I was safe and sound.
“Until she’s healed.”
“Does she have a car?”
“No,” I said slowly, not understanding.
“And the Mustang is your only car?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a real piece of shit, you know that?”
I felt a smile come to my face and his hand was back on my thigh. His finger traced the still-slick seam of my pussy and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. “I know,” I breathed.
“You’ll need lots of help with that. With patience and regular trips to town, we can get her running good again in no time.”
“She’s a him,” I said.
“Of course he is,” Wolff said, and pulled in front of Grandma’s cottage.
“I hear the local mechanic serves free hot dogs,” I teased as he slid a finger into me and flexed. Pleasure unfurled in my pelvis and I sighed.
The front door opened and Wolff withdrew his finger. I smoothed my skirt. “Only if you provide dessert, Red,” he said against my ear. He nipped my lobe hard enough to make spots bloom before my eyes. My cunt went
fluid, aching for him all over again. Grandma waved. I waved back. “I can do that,” I said. “No problem.”
Slutty Cinderella
Jacqueline Applebee
Kazimir was still undressed when I called round that night. He answered the door with a small white bath towel draped around his hips that drew my eyes to his groin. I’d never known a man to be so unconcerned about his appearance, but still manage to be effortlessly handsome. He moved a lock of damp hair from his hazel eyes and winked.
“You’re early, Lisa,” he drawled. “What’s the hurry?”
I went to check my watch, and then remembered that I didn’t have it tonight. Instead, I wore a pretty silver timepiece that dangled from a chain in my waistcoat. The watch was the finishing touch to my outfit. This was the first time I’d dressed completely in men’s clothing; a fetish charity ball was the perfect opportunity for me to explore cross-dressing. I wore a formal pinstripe suit, complete with bowler hat and umbrella—a throwback to the old Avengers TV show. I’d discovered the alternative scene rather late in the day; I’d married very young, and had spent twenty years as an obedient little housewife. One divorce later, I was a free woman, determined to make up for lost time—that’s where Kazimir came in.
“We’ve only got fifteen minutes before the ball starts,” I complained as Kazimir ushered me inside. “Don’t you think you should get dressed?”
I stepped over strewn clothes that lay on the floor of his apartment, making my way to his bedroom. Once there, he pressed me against a wall. He gyrated against me, and the towel slipped away. He removed my bowler hat and flung it on the bed. I felt his hot cock growing harder with every movement he made against me. His hands went to my breasts, but I captured his wrists, and held them at his sides.
“I thought you said I had to get dressed?” Kazimir asked with a smile. “But we could always stay here and have some fun of our own.”
I released him, patted his bare backside and stepped away. It’s not that I don’t like the idea of restraint, but I knew where it would lead. If we started doing that now, we’d never get to the ball. On our second date, Kazimir had tied me to his bed; it was just supposed to be a little naughty fun, but it soon evolved into more when he refused to release me until I’d admitted my secret desires. After so many years bottling things up in a stale marriage, I was only too ready to spill. One of my wishes was that I could be more forceful during sex. My admission had only served to arouse my new man—we swapped places, I cuffed him to the bed and then proceeded to screw him through the mattress. I’m not usually that bold, but now that I was dressed like a man, I could feel some of my hidden power start to rise to the surface. I idly wondered where I had last seen the leather wrist cuffs, just in case things got interesting, but it was impossible to locate anything in Kazimir’s untidy room.