Oscar’s eyes drank the words, and thoughts of the many ways he’d love to convince Sarah flooded his mind, fattened his cock, and pushed against the denim of his jeans.
He would love to describe what he wanted to do in vivid detail, get her wet as she lay beside her husband. But Oscar had just one chance, one opportunity to get things right.
Meet me.
She texted back immediately: Why?
Because I need to see you.
Oscar waited as silence swallowed night. He sighed, took another swig of beer and willed the phone to reveal her reply. More silence.
Come on….
Ping!
When?
Triumph vibrated through his body as he typed: Now, just give me 5 minutes.
Now if she would only bite he might stand a chance.
Fine. 5 minutes, but I’m timing you!
In that case give me six.
Oscar grinned as he hit send, imagining her gorgeous green eyes rolling.
He popped up from the boards, energized by her response, then ran his hand through his hair and sprinted, case of beer in tow, to his truck, racing toward their usual meeting spot just up the road from her five room house.
*****
What the hell is wrong with you?!
Sarah chastised herself for agreeing to meet him. Groaning, she turned from Clayton to face the wall. He turned in his sleep, laying a warm hand on her sweating leg, adding to her rapidly rising guilt.
She had only agreed to five minutes.
Nothing could happen in five minutes.
Sarah slipped from under the covers, then pulled her nightie over her head and slipped on a pair of gray shorts and a tank top. She tucked her feet into a pair of walking shoes then crept out the door, starting up the hill from her house without looking back.
*****
Oscar saw Sarah surface at the top of the hill. A moment later she was hopping into his open door and slamming it shut behind her. She looked at her watch, then said, “Ready, go.”
He laughed. “I’ve missed you,” he said, leaning over the center seat, landing a long hard kiss on her lips. She melted beneath it. He released the pressure and pulled back, hovering just inches from her face.
“God, could you please not do that?” she pleaded, her eyes holding his. Her breathing accelerated and he could feel the heat of her breath on his lips.
“Do what?” he said, lowering his head to plant a series of soft kisses along her lips and down her chin, the trail ending at the start of her perky tits. His hands took over where his lips had stopped, massaging her small tits through her thin tank top, feeling her nipples rising in response to his touch.
Sarah’s back arched, increasing the pressure of his hand against her.
She groaned, then desire swallowed them both as they spiraled out of control into a fury of kisses, hands stripping clothes from passion-heated bodies. She put a firm hand on Oscar’s hand, stopping him from rubbing her already swollen pussy beneath her shorts.
“Please,” she panted, “please, don’t.”
“I won’t do anything you tell me you don’t want me to do,” he said, his voice in a dare. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
Sarah groaned as he continued rubbing the quickly soaking crotch of her shorts further into her fur box and sending her into uncontrollable twitching fits. Her back arched against the seat of his truck as Oscar slid over, pinning her between his body and the door. His treacherous hand kept working wicked circles around her clit through the shorts. He moved swiftly from the outside, snaking his hand to touch the smooth shaved pussy beneath.
With one hand in place and the other steadying himself on the headrest of the seat, Oscar penetrated her hole, working his fingers inside her the way he knew would make her cum quickest.
As anticipated, Sarah shoved her hips into his hand as a scream flew from her lips. The dim light of the dash lit her face just enough for Oscar to see the same wild in her eyes she always got while at the edge of no control.
Sarah stripped her shorts and in one furiously fluid motion, swung a leg over Oscar, and was straddling his lap in seconds, swapping roles and pinning him hard against the seat. She pressed her hips down on him and ground herself into his bulge.
Oscar winced with pain, as Sarah wickedly laughed, tearing at the button and zipper on his jeans, caging what she graved. Pulling them down, along with his boxers, around his ankles, Sarah’s mouth suddenly mounted his dick, claiming it with her tongue, working in an almost vicious circular motion.
Oscar arched against the seat as her wicked mouth claimed every weakness in his body. She sucked hard for several strokes, then kissed him tenderly along his hip bones. Her fingers clawed at his bare thighs as she moved from dick to hips, working in a cycle that sent him ever nearer to the edge.
Oscar fought to hang on to his last bit of control, pulling her up to straddle him again. She guided his dick inside her and rode.
God, did she ride.
She intimately knew the length of his dick and rocked back and forth from tip to base in her favorite perfected motion. The slippery sop of her pussy paired perfectly with the tightening of her hole as she slid closer and closer to the wall of his base.
Oscar tried to concentrate on something, anything other than her perfectly formed ass spread beneath his hands.
Oscar looked out the window and saw headlights.
Only trouble could come from that direction.
Sarah caught his look and followed his glance, still moving her pussy along the length of his dick, slightly slower. “Do you think it’s him?” he said, more out of concern for her than himself.
“Do you care?” she answered in the hardened voice she used when hurt. He’d heard it before, like when he said they couldn’t be together. She’d answered with a halfhearted smile, claiming that she wasn’t really concerned about what they’d had – it was good while it lasted, but never meant to last forever.
Oscar quietly cursed himself, along with the memory.
Sarah went from rocking on his cock to pounding his dick with a force she had never used. Tears from her eyes fell on his stomach as he met her hurt with thrusts from his body. They pushed into one another with a passion fueled by the pain he had brought to them both.
Sarah sobbed on his bare chest as he loudly groaned, splaying his fingers into the flesh of her back as he shot his cum inside her, curling his fingers into her hair as the vibrations of his volcanic release passed through his body.
“I really have missed you,” he said, caressing her wavy hair.
Sarah slid from his dick, then turned her burning eyes toward him and said, “You need to go. I’ll not expect your call.”
She slid into her shorts and was out the door before he could gather his thoughts. She slipped into the black, racing down the hill as he whispered, “I love you,” at her figure fading into darkness.
XXX
Happy Halloween
Claire smoothed the front of her sexy female pirate garb, and admired her tanned muscular thighs, courtesy of the three day a week spinning class. A smile crept across her face, displaying her freshly whitened teeth.
Claire felt damn sexy, and sexy made her wet.
She could hear the kids clambering around downstairs, screaming in voices so excited it sounded as though they’d already swallowed a full swinging sack of sugar, when she knew for a fact that Doug had only given them each one bite-sized Almond Joy.
Claire heard Doug downstairs, in the smooth yet authoritative daddy’s voice she loved. “A half hour, then you can leave. Until then, you’re helping hand out the candy.”
She took one long last look in the mirror, smiling even wider, then lifted her long flowing skirt, slipped her fingers into her panties, and swished them around inside her. Claire brought the three digits to her nose and inhaled, making herself wetter, then washed her hands and went downstairs to her family.
“Holy crap, Mom,” her oldest daughter said. “You look HOT.�
�
Claire laughed, “Well thanks, Taylor. Aren’t you two heading out with Cynthia and her brothers?” Claire stared from the third step up, looking down at two excited nods. “Well, why don’t I call their mother and see if it’s okay with her if you guys head over there a little early.” She caught a glance, along with a smile, from Doug. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”
That suggestion was met with smiles and applause. Two minutes later she was on with Cynthia’s mother, Brenda, who of course agreed. Before getting off the phone Brenda added, “We will see you all at the party this year won’t we?”
Claire hated the snooty attitudes from the majority of the bitches in the sub-division she and Doug had moved into two years earlier, and she especially hated it when people like Brenda Davis insinuated that Claire and Doug had been missing out on social opportunities by putting their children’s safety first. Taylor had just turned 13 and Sam was on the brink of turning 12. This was the first year she and Doug had been comfortable setting them loose with friends to go trick-or-treating on their own.
Most of the parents were too trusting in her opinion, especially when it came to Halloween and turning the kids loose in the streets to go door to door. After two years of fights and tantrums from Sam, and quiet tears from Taylor, they had finally agreed. Tonight it was her and Doug’s turn to have some fun.
The kids would be staying at the lock-in at the Community Center after trick-or-treating was over, and didn’t have anywhere to be the following day other than sleeping off their sugar coma.
“Yes, of course,” Claire said, trying to bury the trace of hate in her voice. “We’ll be there!”
“Great,” Brenda said. They exchanged goodbyes and Claire tossed her cell onto the counter.
“Let Halloween begin,” Claire said, still tasting the hate in her mouth.
Another round of cheers let to a flurry of kisses, then to Claire’s rattled off instructions that they had to be careful, stay together, and make sure that they were ready at exactly eight in the morning when they went to pick them up.
As Taylor and Sam made their way out the door with their costumes and swinging orange buckets, Doug looked over and caught the look on Claire’s face.
“Problem with Brenda?” he said, although he already knew her answer, and knowing his wife, she was just waiting for someone to ask so she could explode.
“She acts as if we are a stain on the street for not coming to these damn social events!” she exclaimed. “How is it that I’ve fallen down the social totem pole for caring enough to be a good mother?!”
Doug poured himself a glass of wine, then poured a second, handing it to Claire in front of a calming smile. “I’m going to go up and get ready. Have a drink and calm yourself before we go out to this party. You know how they are, and you know better than to let them get to you. Tonight is our night to have fun, so please, my sweet pirate princess, get a grip.”
Doug smiled and she smiled back. He kissed her on the cheek, then turned and headed upstairs. She heard the door quietly close three seconds after he hit the top stair.
Claire took the glass of wine, then retreated to the couch to wait for her husband, gulping half the glass before catching her reflection in the mirror, then again stopping to admire the hard work that had turned her hotter than hot. Claire smiled ear to ear, knowing that if nothing else, she would look a hell of a lot better than Brenda Davis.
Doug made quick work of getting into his Jack Sparrow costume, descending the stairs far sooner than she anticipated, in his pirate hat drizzled with dreadlocks, tumbling half way down his back, with full eyeliner to finish the look.
Claire couldn’t help but smile as he stepped from the stairs to the foyer, sipping his wine. “You are definitely the sexiest pirate I’ve ever met,” she said, grinning.
“I’m also the ONLY pirate you’ve ever met,” Doug replied, returning her grin and setting down his glass before wrapping his arm around Claire’s waist and swooping her into a dip that sent his hat to the floor.
She giggled and slapped him playfully on the chest before laying a long kiss on his lips. “Arrrrr,” she grunted as they fell into a fit of laughter.
*****
They finished half the bottle before heading out the door to the party. It was around eight and the streets were sprinkled with children as they crossed the four blocks, gathering oohs and ah’s and assorted comments from several kids, complimenting them on their awesome costumes.
Lincoln Jensen said, “Jack Sparrow is COOL!” Claire thought it was Lisa Harding who said, “You make a pretty Elizabeth Swann, Mrs. Madsen,” but it was hard to tell behind her kitty cat makeup.
Just outside the suburb lay a modest sized gated house, built by the subdivision president. They rang the buzzer and the gate swung open. They walked up the tree lined driveway that spilled into a hoard of people huddled around the door, slowly piling into the house. Everyone smiled and buzzed about how great it felt to have adult time and how glad they were to see everyone else, even if they weren’t.
Doug and Claire made their way to the open bar and ordered drinks. “You know,” Claire whispered, “after we socialize, I think we should find a quiet dark corner where you can take advantage of Ms. Swann.”
Doug’s eyes doubled in size. “Oh really?” he said, one eyebrow rising to hide beneath the brim of his black hat.
“Yes, really,” Claire said, pouting her lips and sending him her most seductive stare.
The moment was interrupted by shrill laughter floating from across the room. They both turned to see Brenda Davis, already slurring her words, hanging on the arm of the single subdivision president. He was looking at Brenda’s husband, Ken, with apologetic eyes, quietly promising that he was only trying to keep her from falling. Ken looked disgusted. He turned from Brenda and headed toward Doug and Claire.
His fake smile did nothing to bury his resentment, or the embarrassment in his eyes. “Well, look who made it! Glad to see you both this year,” Ken said, ordering himself a double shot of Jim Beam.
Claire had always thought that Doug and Ken looked alike, but seeing them side by side, both dressed as Jack Sparrow, she could hardly tell the difference. As she swallowed a drink of her extra dirty martini, she couldn’t take her eyes off of them. They were the same height, with a similar stocky build. And their eyes were almost the exact same shade of brown.
They talked and laughed for a few minutes before Claire excused herself to mingle. After her third martini, the alcohol was singing in her blood, so she stepped outside to get some fresh air. Most of her neighbors were inside, talking and laughing loudly about their bosses, co-workers, and children.
The cool fall air felt great brushing the sides of Claire’s flushed face as she stood admiring the full set of stars shining in the extra black Halloween sky. Her vision was slightly blurred and she felt slightly off balance when she looked up. The heel of her tall black boots slipped into a crack and she nearly fell before being caught by a pair of strong arms.
“Careful there Ms. Swann,” the voice behind her said in a whisper.
She giggled softly and replied, “Is that you Jack Sparrow?”
Her head was spinning as she felt hands move their way down the sides of her slender waist to her thighs. Fingers splayed to cover her bare skin, then slowly moved to the tender flesh of her inner thigh and up to the hot swollen mess covered by a thin layer of sheer material. Her body responded to the warmth of his touch and she fell back into the wall of his chest.
Expert hands massaged the material and brought liquid pleasure to its surface. She clamped her hands around his arms and moaned, “Take me.”
His hands grasped her tender arm, then lead her into the dark shadows of the bushes behind the house. The dreadlocks attached to the hat shimmered in the dim light of the stars. She stumbled her way behind him until they reached a bench, surrounded by the tall bushes, completely cut off from view of the house. The back of the bench was hard against her back as he p
ushed her onto it with a force that Doug had never used before. His unfamiliar actions surfaced with a sudden wave of pleasure.
She gasped as she felt Doug’s hard hands grip her knees and pry them apart, then slouched over the bench and allowed his head and hands to work their magic on her dripping slit. He pushed aside the thin material and let his fingers trace her lower lips. She shivered more from the pleasure than from the cool air as it slapped against her now soaking wet pussy.
His head bent lower, then nudged in between her legs, swapping his fingers for his tongue, working vicious circles around her clit before sending his tongue plunging into her overheated hole. She laid her head against the back of the bench and grasped at his hat, silently begging him for more. His tongue pulsed inside her, sending goose bumps across her body, head to toe.
She moaned with pleasure, arching her hips in a rainbow toward his warm mouth. Vibrations from release erupted inside her and sent a mouthful of inner juices flooding into his mouth. His satisfied grunt drove her to frenzy. She pulled at the back of his neck, shoving the taste of her pussy onto his lips. They lingered there for a long moment before her hand slipped inside his loose pants.
Her eyes widened as she grasped a thick, hard girth and began stroking every inch of its length. He was on his knees in front of her rocking back and forth against her hand, sending waves of desire flooding through her body. His hand was suddenly at the back of her head and brought her flailing from the bench to a crouching on the ground, sending her already dripping pussy into a swollen, throbbing mess.
Doug popped his dick from his pants and her mouth dropped on top of the tip as her sloppy wet tongue circled his tip. He moved her mouth lower, slowly inserting his entire length, as though savoring every second her lipstick smeared lips lingered along his cock.
She pumped her head up and down working her finger and thumb around the base. His moans of pleasure overrode any thought that it would be easier to perform if he would get off his knees and sit on the bench. Claire rocked harder on his throbbing cock until she felt the skin tighten beneath her lips.
42 Filthy Fucking Stories Page 33