Iron Soldier

by Katie Ford

  But now, watching the guys on my favorite basketball team run around chasing the ball and each other on the massive screen, I can’t stop my sigh of boredom.

  What the hell? This should be my perfect Saturday night.

  Fuck.

  Maybe I just need to switch things up a bit. With the click of a couple of buttons on the remote, I change the channel to one of my favorite porn sites. The screen switches to a thick girl on their knees. She’s pretty but blonde, tits for days, and an ass made for spanking. A guy comes out of nowhere with his cock already hard and aiming for her wide open mouth.

  Damn, I wish she had brown hair. Maybe then… I look down at my dick. It’s as soft as boiled spaghetti against my thigh, and I can’t even bring myself to put in the work of getting it hard. My mind’s not with it. If I hadn’t gotten off like the Fourth of July to a fantasy of Claire doing the same thing this blonde chick is up to, I’d think I was losing interest in sex.

  But no, that’s not the problem.

  An image comes to my mind without me thinking too hard.

  Claire. The last time she was here, sitting on my bed with the sheets up around her tits and watching me with those expectant brown eyes. Like she wanted something from me but didn’t know exactly how to ask for it.

  But damn, I’m ready to give her just about anything she wants as long as she comes home with me again.

  Shit. Where did that thought come from?

  I’m not into that. I don’t lose my head over chicks. I don’t wish any of the girls I’ve fucked were still crowding up on me in my own apartment. That’s not me at all.

  At least, not usually.

  There’s something about Claire, though.

  This morning, I felt like a complete idiot when I went to the store and stocked up on groceries. Waffles, fruit, whipped cream, and even an extra toothbrush. All shit I wouldn’t normally buy. The whole time while I threw the stuff in the shopping cart along with my usual gourmet coffee, steaks, and pasta, I managed to ignore what my unexpected shopping spree meant. But I can’t ignore it now.

  It feels like Claire is in every corner of my mind.

  Thoughts of her overwhelm me. The sound of her sexy voice when we’re just having a normal conversation. Her smell. Her soft and luscious figure sitting at my kitchen table, eating the things I bought for her while my oversized robe droops from her soft shoulders.

  It’s torture, it’s all so damn tempting.

  As for right now, damn, wouldn’t it be nice to have her next to me on the sofa? Not even to fuck, just... A frustrated sigh blows past my lips.

  Damn it.

  Suddenly, the usually comfortable four walls of my apartment feel like a prison.

  I don’t want to be here. I don’t want my BFTV. I don’t want to be thinking about this girl who I haven’t been able to get out of my mind.

  If I believed in that witchcraft bullshit, I’d swear she put some kind of spell on me. And on my dick. Because these days, I can’t even get off unless I’m thinking about her.

  Fucking unbelievable.

  What the hell am I even doing? The couch squeaks in protest when I jump up to my feet. I grab my jacket, wallet, and keys and jerk the door open. It slams behind me, and I’m half-way down the stairs before I can second guess myself.

  Pushing my car hard, I make it to the bar in record time, by some crazy miracle avoiding the cops and not killing myself in a fiery car crash on the way.

  Maybe what I need is a drink or two. Shooting pool with some guys. Being out of my place and doing something a little different with my weekend. The lone wolf thing is usually alright with me, but this weekend, I just can’t stand the feel of my own company.

  My car door slams shut behind me, and I shove the keys in my pocket.

  With a nod, I pass the big and beefy bouncer guarding the entrance with his giant arms crossed over his equally massive chest. He looks like a gorilla on steroids. A polite one, but still.

  Once upon a time, when I had first joined the Marines, I would’ve been asshole enough to test a guy like this to see if I could take him. Even if I was in that kind of idiot mood now, with all of the crazy shit the military taught me in the last six months of my tour, I could destroy this guy in just a few seconds. No challenge there. Not much of a challenge anywhere these days. Except for Claire.

  Dammit. There she is on my mind again. I feel like my brain is stuck in a loop.

  The smell of the bar hits me square in the face as soon as I get past the wide hallway leading inside. Spilled drinks. Stale beer. Desperation. And now I’m one of these desperate assholes with nothing better to do on a Saturday night.

  As usual, the bar is loud with music, raised voices, and the general sound of people having a good time. Damn, I can’t understand how people love doing this shit every weekend. I belly up to where the bartender is serving some guy a freshly opened bottle of beer. He gives me a nod of recognition. And just as I’m about to rattle off my order to him, I see her.

  That damn beautiful Claire.

  It’s like I conjured her out of thin air.

  She’s standing near the table I was sitting at with Nick last time. Her arms are crossed over her stomach in a way that looks both protective and confrontational. Her eyes move like a periscope between the door and the bar. She’s looking for somebody.

  I’m staring at her, so I know the exact second she sees me too. Her chest visibly heaves in a deep breath. She bites her lip, grips the strap of the purse she’s carrying, and then charges across the bar toward me.

  Hell, was she waiting for me?

  “What’s up, buddy? You want a drink or what?” the bartender’s annoyed voice jolts me from my blatant eye-stalking.

  “Keep your shirt on, dude,” I tell him. “Just gimme a second.”

  He makes another annoyed noise and moves on to somebody else. Shit, that’s fine with me. I have more important things to pay attention to.

  “Hey,” Claire says in that slightly breathless voice of hers that makes me simultaneously want to protect her and drag her onto my dick to fuck her until she screams my name. She plops down on the empty seat next to me.

  “Hey, don’t waste your time, honey.” A blonde on the other side of her lurches forward to glare at me and smirk at Claire. “This one won’t give you the time of day.” Her lips twist into an ugly expression. “Maybe he’s a queer or something. Can’t get it up for a woman.”

  With a withering glare of her own at the woman, Claire drags her purse closer, like she’s afraid the woman is some kind of desperate crack addict ready to snatch her purse. “Maybe he just can’t get it up for you.”

  A few titters of laughter break out around the bar as the blonde sputters, obviously embarrassed and apparently not knowing what else to say. But I ignore her. Since I spotted Claire across the bar, I only have eyes for one woman.

  “Can I get you a drink or something?” I ask, turning on my stool to drink my fill of her with my eyes.

  She nibbles on her bottom lip. “Um, okay.”

  When the bartender comes back, I order a beer for myself and whatever Claire wants, which turns out to be a hard cider. Strange, since she was drinking rum and beers the other night with her friend.

  “I don’t want to get drunk tonight,” she says when she catches my frown and correctly interprets it. “I get the feeling I’ll need a clear head tonight.”

  Hell yeah. Does this mean what I think it does?

  Next to Claire, the blonde throws us both a nasty look before stalking away with two drinks in her hands. I wonder which guy she’s trying to sleep with in exchange for free drinks. Then Claire shifts on the stool beside me, brushing her clean scent against my nose, and all thoughts of the skanky blonde disappear.

  We get our drinks from the asshole bartender, but the bar is getting more crowded and less comfortable. Claire and I end up pushed together really closely by people shoving close to get their own beers and whatever else. Pretty soon, my arm presses against Claire
’s. Our sides line up like books on a shelf, and the warmth of her seeps into my skin, warming my senses and making me hard as a rock.

  Under the cover of the bar, I shift the thick line of my hardening dick in the tight boxer-briefs. This small contact, even from my own hand, sends a shock of arousal down my spine. It’s all Claire’s fault.

  The reaction I should’ve had to the hot and sloppy blowjob I saw on my TV earlier, I was having now to a fully dressed girl plucking nervously at the label of her cider bottle. She looks up at me through her lashes and then jerks her gaze away.

  That night we fucked, Claire’s fingers had felt so soft on my skin, so damn good. But when she was close to coming, those same hands had dug into my ass with an intensity that made my heart knock hard in the cage of my chest. My cock had been like a damn fire hose when I pumped my seed into her snatch. I swear, I’d never come that hard in my entire life.

  My hand shakes as I gulp down the cold beer and stare down at Claire’s pretty face. She’s such a hot combination of shy and sexy that I can’t get enough.

  It’s more than just the sex, though. I don’t just crave her pussy; I want to devour everything about her.

  Even though she’s in the middle of a bar, somehow she smells crisp and fresh, like spring and the outdoors.

  Trying not to seem too much like a creep, I lean closer to smell her some more.

  “What are you doing?” She stops pulling at the label on her bottle of hard cider and tilts her head up to peer at me. The look in her deep brown eyes is suspicious and conflicted. Like she wants me to get closer to her, but only so she can punch my lights out.

  But then her hand drifts from the bottle and settles right there on the bar next to mine. Her fingers stretch a little toward me, and because our bodies are so close, I can feel the delicate shivers running through her. She drops her eyes, licking her lips at the same time. A quick glance down proves that her nipples are fat and hard, poking out against the front of her frilly little blouse.

  I squirm, watching the slick movement of her little pink tongue across her plump lower lip. My dick is still a throbbing iron bar in my shorts.

  “Nothing,” I say in response to her earlier question. “I’m not doing a damn thing. It’s a little tight in here, that’s all. All these fucking people.”

  But the only person I’m focused on is Claire. She makes me twitch. She makes me burn. Right now, my cock is so hard for her that I could bang out every nail that makes up the framing of this bar to bring it down around our ears. And even if that happened, I’d still only have eyes for Claire.

  Christ! I’m so stupidly gone for this girl. And I don’t even know her.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch as she drinks from the bottle, her mouth pulling on the long neck and milking the cool liquid onto her tongue and down her throat.

  Damn. Just…Damn.

  I feel wetness squirt from the head of my dick to slick up my shorts. The lust pools in my balls, ready to shoot out of me and straight into her willing and hot cunt. My hand tightens around the beer bottle. It’s so cold and my skin is so hot, it feels like steam is rising from my hand and signaling to everybody in the bar how much I want Claire.

  “Come home with me.” The words spill out of me in a low growl. I can barely talk, I’m so hot for her.

  Claire looks startled, but interested too. Very interested. Her brown eyes reach for mine again and the look in them is anything but innocent. “Okay.”

  After another quick look at her to make sure she’s on board, I throw a twenty on the bar to cover our drinks then jerk my head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  I keep my hands completely to myself. If I touch her, I’m afraid I’ll just explode in my pants like some horny ass teenager.

  The ride from the bar to my place is a blur of horniness and need. My cock is a fat club down my pants leg that doesn’t soften at all. The whole time, Claire sits in the passenger seat with her purse in her lap and her hands crossed over it, prim and proper. But she keeps wriggling in the seat. Her hips rock and twitch, and her hands grip her purse until her knuckles turn white. She wants me. And I want her too.

  God! The need claws at me like a beast I can’t control.

  I fight to rein it in, though. Teeth clenched and jaw muscles twitching, I try to ignore the wriggling temptation of Claire so very close to me.

  When we finally get to my place, I can barely get us out of the car and up the stairs to my apartment. My hands are shaking by the time I get the key in the lock, and even that simple action makes my dick even harder.

  My key in her lock. Claire opening up all of her doors for me.

  “Come in,” I growl.

  Claire doesn’t say anything. Her grip on her purse is tight. Her lips are slightly parted, her lashes lowered. She looks at me and then tongues her bottom lip in a nervous gesture I immediately want to soothe.

  It’s cool, that’s what I want to say to her. I’m not gonna hurt you. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I swallow hard, and my Adam’s apple bobs in my throat. My cock is iron. My control is nearly gone.

  Lurching forward, I reach for Claire, but with another shy look, she slips past me and drops her purse on the couch. Then her coat. Helplessly horny, I watch her like a hawk.

  Is she even wearing a bra? Her nipples look like tiny pebbles pressing through her shirt.

  Like she read my mind, she touches her boobs through the shirt and makes a small noise. Ah. She’s sensitive there. Good to know.

  With a desperate sounding moan, she turns abruptly and goes deeper into the apartment, down the hall toward my bedroom. Her hips wriggle seductively with every step. She lifts her arms above her head and pulls off her shirt. I see her bra strap, the soft plane of her back, and her mouthwatering curves. The shirt drops on the floor behind her, and I follow her dumbly, barely able to walk because of the biggest hard-on I’ve ever had in my life. The arousal throbs with every beat of my blood, my pulse, my heart.

  What is this girl doing to me?

  Her shoes clatter in the hallway as she kicks them off. Then her skirt slides off her hips.

  I should be pissed that she’s making a mess of my orderly apartment, but all I can do is follow the crumbs she’s leaving for me, delicious morsels of temptation that promise me a feast once we get to my bedroom.

  Yeah, I want that. I want that really badly.

  Chest heaving with lust and excitement, I jerk off my shirt, my pants, and my underwear and then leave them on the floor with her clothes. When I get to the room, I’m naked and so, so ready to fuck. Claire stands at the foot of the bed in her underwear—just plain black panties and a bra. She’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen.

  “Brent...” she moans my name, and the last of my control completely disappears.

  I’m on her in a heartbeat, growling and horny as hell. She groans and comes at me, just as desperate as I am, her arms around my neck, her pretty pink lips open and panting against mine. Her soft skin moves against me, and her moans drive me crazy.

  “Claire. I wanna fuck you...”

  “Fuck me,” she groans into my mouth. Her fingers dig into my shoulders and scratch my neck. “Make me yours!”

  I’ve never wanted another woman the way I want her. The lust is tearing me apart. I can’t think. I can only feel.

  Her skin is so soft, so damn incredible. The taste of lips is like coming home. I can’t explain it. I don’t know why. But I can’t get enough. Our mouths suck and lick and gasp and moan into each other. Claire grinds her sweet pussy against me, begging me to fuck her with every breath.

  “Brent! Please! I need it. I need you!”

  She’s practically a stranger. I know she is. But I want to give her anything she wants. Anything she asks for. Anything in my power. My dick. My soul. Any damn thing.

  Already, the sweat runs down my back. I’m overheated. Desperate. Beyond horny.

  Claire’s back hits the bed, and I’m immediately on top of her, my cock hard and hungry
to be inside her.

  “Baby, I gotta have you!”

  Her thighs stretch open. “This is yours. Take it.”

  With a deep grunt, I ease into her soaking wet pussy.

  God. Fucking. Damn. It’s even better than last time. After a brief resistance from her natural tightness, her hot snatch hungrily sucks me in, and I sink into her, balls deep.

  “Yes, Brent! Yes!”

  Her legs lock behind my back, and she immediately starts to move, fucking up into me, passionate and wild. I give it to her, pounding into her snatch like it’s my damn job. Her tits jiggle and jerk with every pounding thrust of my meat inside her dripping twat. Her nipples are too irresistible. In seconds, I have them in my mouth. They’re hard and sweet, rough and soft at the same time, like strawberries. I tongue and lick them, suck and grunt around them. Fuck, she feels and tastes incredible. The perfect woman for my dick and my bed.

  My bed knocks frantically against the wall from our intense fucking.

  “Oh, God, Brent! I’m coming!” she screams and clenches hard on my cock. Shaking and crying out the whole time, she gushes her sweet pussy juices all over my prick and my sheets.

  Her come is incredible. Tears flood from her eyes and her lips tremble, her chin wobbles. “So good,” she gasps. “I want... Can I have more?”

  My cock is leaking inside her, still hard, my own come only one good thrust away. I fly through the multiplication table in my head just so I don’t bust too soon.

  “You can have anything you want, baby.” I pull out with a low hiss and kiss her panting red mouth.

  She’s gorgeous all over. Her neck damp with sweat, her big and jiggling tits, her belly, and those fat thighs with their pretty dimples. And her ass. Fuck, her ass! I grip her hips, my cock still aching and wet for more of her, aching to give her everything she wants.

  “I want your ass, baby.” My hands squeeze her thighs, and she moans long and deep for me, wriggling and twisting against the bed, hungry for more of my dick. “Can I have your ass?”