Boogeyman's Dream

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Boogeyman's Dream Page 5

by Glenna Maynard


  I go into the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror, hoping that it sparks something. When I gaze at my reflection, I don’t know the girl in the mirror. Fingering my long dark locks, I have an urgent need to cut the hair off.

  I hate this uneasy feeling. I poke at the place on my head. “Ouch.” I gotta stop doing that. I open the medicine cabinet and look for a pain reliever. It’s empty save a stick of men’s deodorant.

  Sniffing my armpit, I thankfully don’t stink.

  Maybe there will be something in the kitchen to ease the pain.

  I don’t have much luck in there either. Most of the cabinets are bare. There are a few dishes and some canned microwavable goods.

  I feel restless and unsure of what to do with myself.

  The place looks clean. There aren’t any personal touches anywhere to tell me anything about Charlie. There isn’t even a piece of mail indicating an address to give me an idea of where I even am.

  I go to switch on the TV, but it says no signal. That’s strange. It worked fine earlier. I try different setting and channels but nothing.

  There goes that idea.

  I can’t even take a walk. I have no clothes or shoes.

  I hope Charlie returns soon. With nothing to occupy my time I can’t help but find myself thinking about the man I woke to find teasing my nipples with ice cubes. The way he made my body feel…the way he was looking at me when our eyes met. He was hungry for me. The man wanted me and my body was responding until my brain caught up with me.

  Is it wrong for me to want him to do it again?

  What would he do if I asked him to?

  He said he was trying to wake me.

  My imagination takes over and I lay back on the couch, envisioning what would have happened had I not forced him to stop.

  My thighs part and I touch myself as I wish he would have.

  I know it sounds bad but, in my fantasy, he doesn’t stop. He ignores my wishes and takes what he wants.

  A cold sensation rubs across my chest and my nipples tighten. Warmth pools between my thighs as this stranger continues his torturous assault on my body. His rough hands hold me down as he brings his mouth to mine, forcing his tongue between the parting of my lips.

  His kiss is brutal and powerful. It is a kiss that says I own you and you are mine to do with as I please. I return the kiss, deepening it as our tongues sweep together in a tango fueled by carnal desire.

  “Fuck,” he growls and shoves my knees apart.

  I try to close them back together and deny him. Wanting him to work for it. Wanting him to be rough with me.

  His rough hands grip the tops of my thighs and pull, spreading me wide. Charlie doesn’t get to go straight for his prize though. I push against his shoulders.

  A devious grin crosses his ruggedly handsome face. One hand holds my throat, the pad of his thumb applying a gentle yet firm pressure. A lustfully hazy storm brews in his eyes as they darken, warning me that he will give me what I want.

  Rough.

  Raw.

  Primal.

  This man is going to ravish me.

  He’s going to fuck me like he hates me.

  He’s going to force his thick cock into my soaked pussy.

  My fingers rub over my pussy lips as I continue to dream about him taking me by force.

  I work my fingers in and out of my tight center, wishing he was filling me with his dick. Stuffing my pussy with his full length as he pounds relentlessly.

  A light sheen of sweat breaks on my forehead as I continue to tease and pleasure myself.

  I’m so damn close to getting off. My nipple hardens as I use my free hand to tweak and pinch.

  Throwing my head back, I think about Charlie. How his face would be masked with determination and pleasure. My thighs quiver as I imagine him thrusting into me one more time long and hard, right before he gets off and the warmth of his essence coats my inner walls.

  Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I push them through the seam of my lips, coating my lips and tongue with my juices and sucking. Wishing I was tasting him in my mouth. My legs shake as I plunge my fingers back in my velvet heat and my orgasm quakes through my body.

  Chapter Fourteen

  —Boogeyman—

  After dumping the truck, I go in the clubhouse in search of MaryAnn. I need a woman’s opinion on some shit and I know she can be discreet when needed.

  I find her easily enough behind the bar restocking the coolers. Jackyl is playing over the stereo as she shakes her hips.

  My first thought is to lean across the bar, reach my hand up her jean skirt and tickle her ass, but I think better of it when I see Cupid coming down the stairs. A weird look passes between the two of them. He gives me a chin lift and takes up the seat next to mine.

  “Where you been?”

  “Around,” I grunt, wanting him to get lost. I don’t need his nosy ass poking in my business.

  MaryAnn glares at him then smiles at me. “What can I do for ya, Boog?”

  “Just get me a beer, sweetheart.”

  “She finally realize what a little pecker you got or something?”

  “Something like that.” He snorts. “Get me one too, babe.”

  “I’m not your babe.” She cocks an eyebrow at him and her lips pop on the Bs.

  “Just get me a beer.”

  MaryAnn rolls her eyes but sets two beers in front of us. Cupid grabs his and walks over to one of the whores over by the jukebox. He starts pawing at her tits and making an ass out of himself. His eyes are on MaryAnn the whole time but she’s ignoring him. I’m getting into their fucked-up mess.

  “Question,” I tell her.

  “Shoot.”

  “I know you can keep your mouth shut.”

  “On occasion.” She winks and leans in close.

  “Let’s say I had a female friend who was hiding out and didn’t have shit to her name. What would she need?”

  “Don’t tell me you have some poor girl locked up somewhere,” she says with a grin. If she only knew how close to the truth she was.

  “Well, she’d need stuff for her personal hygiene. Not to mention clothes, but you’d need to know her size.”

  “Well her tits are a bit more than a handful.” I hold up my palm cupping it in the process.

  Her grin stretches. “Oh, Boogey. I love you. Whoever she is I hope you are playing nice. I do have some shit down in the basement. Stuff unclaimed by the girls. You are welcome to it.”

  “Thanks, baby doll. You deserve better than that clown.” I pinch her titty and twist.

  “Oww!” She smacks my hand away and scowls at Cupid. His back is to us and the whore is on her knees.”

  I have to walk past them to go down to the basement. When I get behind him I nudge him in the ass with the toe of my boot, making him deepthroat the whore. I laugh when she pulls away gagging, crying, “What the hell?”

  “Asshole,” Cupid calls out and I flip him the bird as I go down the stairs to find those clothes.

  ———

  Fucking hell, this is torture. I’m at the drugstore buying feminine shit just in case. I don’t know what brand or size to buy. Who knew fucking tampons were so hard to shop for? I thought they were just simple. But nope. Fucking cardboard. Plastic. Scented. Unscented. Goddamn, it makes my head hurt. I grab a box of each, cause fuck this shit.

  Shampoo. Razors. The list goes on. I make it to the counter to checkout and the clerk gives me a funny look.

  “You’d have a hard time seeing without eyeballs. Didn’t your mother teach you it’s not nice to stare,” I growl, and he shrinks back, mumbling an apology. Fucker scrambles to bag up all this girly shit so I can get the hell out of dodge before anyone sees me. I still need to pick up a few groceries too. I’m not used to taking care of anyone but me.

  When I get to the supermarket I feel like everyone is watching my every-goddamned-move. Like they never seen a mean son of a bitch shopping before. I push the buggy down the aisles just grabbing
random cans and boxes. She said she can cook.

  I turn the corner and run smack dab into the biggest cunt I have ever met, Stephanie. Uno’s bitch.

  “You cooking for an army?” She flips her hair over her shoulder and I snarl at her, causing her to shrink back.

  “I don’t fuckin’ like you. No one fuckin’ likes you. We tolerate you. If it were up to me though, I would give you to the club to pass around and use you up like a cum dumpster then toss you out on your ass where you belong. That’s what I’d do. You probably don’t even like dick, do you?” I grab my crotch for emphasis.

  “Jerk.” She flips her hair again and scurries down the aisle away from me. When she chances to look back at me, I make a V with my fingers and stick my tongue between them indicating what she really likes. Pussy. Though I can’t say I blame her. Pussy is one of the only things I have ever loved.

  When I get back to my truck fucking Uno is calling me. “Did you just shake your dick at Steph?”

  “Thought she should see how big a real cock is.”

  I laugh as he curses. “Goddamn, brother, stop baiting her. I won’t get laid for a week because of you.”

  “Why would I go and do that. It’s too damn fun seeing you take it in the ass. Does she give it to you hard and pull your hair?”

  “Fuck you, Boogeyman. I got you. Wait and see.”

  “Tick tock, motherfucker. I will be waiting.”

  That sorry pussy won’t do shit.

  I end the call and tuck my phone in my pocket.

  Chapter Fifteen

  —Shelly—

  The sound of a door slamming shut outside wakes me from my nap. I hope this means that Charlie is back. Heavy footsteps thunder up the wooden stairs that lead to the front door. He steps through the doorway seconds later and flings a pair of flip flops in my direction.

  “Slip these on and help me get this food in before it spoils,” he barks all gruff and sexy with his raspy voice.

  I pick up the shoes and giggle, they are white with roosters printed on them. Of all the shoes he could gotten me this is what he picked?

  “Interesting choice.” I grin and slip them on. I wiggle my toes and laugh at the fuzzy rooster heads that are garnishing the tops where the V goes between my toes.

  “Isn’t every woman’s fantasy to be double cocked.” He shoots me a wink.

  “Not all…” I trail off not wanting to confess my fantasy. He would probably think there is something seriously wrong with me if I told him what I desire.

  That I want him to take me by surprise...to take me with force.

  “That so?” he questions over his shoulder as I follow him outside to the truck.

  “I’m not telling you.” I shake my head and my eyes bulge seeing the number of bags he has in the back bed of the pickup truck.

  Charlie turns around to face me. His eyes are dark. “I want to know what is racing through that mind of yours.”

  My cheeks bloom with heat.

  I shake my head. “No way. I’m not telling you.”

  He grabs me by my hips and pulls me in close. “You’ll tell me.”

  I go up on my tiptoes and whisper, “no,” softly, a mere inch from his mouth.

  His strong hand travels down the curve of my hip, around to my backside and pinches me, hard.

  “Ow.”

  “Tell me,” he growls.

  “I’ll tell you…if you do something for me.”

  He scoffs looking put out. “Think I have done enough for you already.” His eyes shift to the bags.

  “Okay. Suit yourself.” I shrug and move to start carrying the bags in.

  His fingers gripping my wrist stops me on the bottom step. “What do you want?”

  I smirk and twist around to face him. I shift the bag to my other hand once I free myself of his hard grip. “Let me shave your beard and trim your mess of mop on your head.” I tug on his unruly hair for emphasis

  That funny noise he makes sounds in the back of his throat. “This better be fucking good.”

  “That's debatable. But it is a chance you will have to take,” I tease him, pulling his hair again and loving the annoyance flickering in his eyes. I get under his skin and it drives him crazy.

  “You’re a brat. You know that,” he says, growling at me.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  I turn and start back up the stairs but not before jutting my ass out and hitting him in the crotch with it.

  “Goddamnit, woman. Don’t be doing that shit unless you’re offering to bend over.”

  I laugh and keep walking up the stairs as he goes to adjust himself.

  I can’t believe how much stuff he bought at the store. I can't stop myself from snickering when I see all the tampons he has bought. “Are we stocking up for the apocalypse or something?”

  His eyes narrow on me. “Thought I was being considerate, but if you don't want them I will take them back.”

  “It’s fine.” I think I’ve hurt his feelings. I grab his hand as he goes to walk away. “Thank you, Charlie. I mean it. It’s sweet. I appreciate the thought you put into taking care of my needs. Should they arise.”

  “Speaking of needs. Tell me this fantasy,” he demands.

  “Not yet. First dinner. Then I get to shave your beard and then maybe I will tell you while I trim your hair.”

  He growls making that noise again and it makes me smile.

  Once we have everything neatly put away and organized, Charlie kicks back on the couch with a beer.

  I start fooling around in the kitchen preparing dinner.

  I end up making spaghetti and garlic bread. Easy and simple yet filling. It’s weird how I know the steps to make dinner and yet I can’t remember anything about my life.

  “This is good,” Charlie compliments with a noodle caught on his beard.

  I hold a napkin to my mouth to hide my laughter that is trying to bubble out of my mouth.

  “You got a little something.” I motion to his beard.

  He shrugs and wipes it away.

  “Are you going to let me have my way and shave you?”

  “You going to tell me this fantasy you have?”

  “Yes,” I whisper breathlessly imagining the scene I dreamt up earlier.

  “Then let’s get this shit over with.”

  “We have to clean up dinner first. If we don't do it now...it won’t get done later. And there is nothing worse than waking up to a nasty kitchen.”

  “You’re killing me,” he grumbles but rakes the leftover food on his plate into the trash.

  “Don’t go dying before I can tell you my secret desires…who will I get to act them out if you’re not here?” I smile at him and that funny sound ticks in the back of his throat. “I’ll wash, and you can rinse.”

  He looks like he is about to protest but I narrow my eyes on him and lick my lips and he concedes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  —Boogeyman—

  Dammit to hell, this woman has me all twisted up inside. Making me fucking wash dishes and shit. All because I want to know her fantasy. I really am a Goddamn sadist.

  Fuck me. She is still only wearing my t-shirt, stretching to put something in the cabinet. The t-shirt that's riding up her hips, hips that I want grab hold of as I slam into her from behind, revealing her bare ass to me, reminding me of how damn sexy it looked with my hand prints on it.

  Turning around, Shelly catches me staring at her. A sweet smile spreads over her lips. “So where are we doing this? Do you have clippers?”

  “Have my shave kit in my bag,” I tell her gruffly, wondering if there is any other way to get this secret desire out of her. Could take her over my knee and spank it out of her but she seems to really want this and part of me wants to give it to her.

  I wonder if this is what normal people do? Give and take. Push and pull.

  “In here is fine.” I shrug, and she pulls a chair out from the kitchen table.

  “Have a seat. Is your kit in
the bag you have in the bedroom?”

  “Yeah,” I grunt, feeling that damn tickle in the back of my throat.

  “Okay,” she singsongs and heads toward the bedroom. Part of me has wondered if this memory loss of hers is all an act, but she seems too friendly...too comfortable with me for that to be the case. I’m not letting my guard down though.

  I can’t afford to be stupid all for some pussy. Even as I think it though, I know she is more than pussy. If pussy were all I wanted from her I would have taken it by now and done away with her.

  A few minutes later she returns minus her cock flip-flops. An image of her barefoot and pregnant shoots to the front of my mind, reminding me of that old saying: Keep her barefoot in the winter and pregnant in the summer. That is exactly what I would like to do with her, but I know that won’t happen. It’s a fucking fantasy. A dream that won’t come true. Never been much for wishing on stars or any of that shit. I don't pray to God either. He forgot about me a long time ago, if he ever thought of me at all.

  I’m not meant to have a happy ending. Nor am I fit to be a father. No way in hell am I passing my fucked up genes onto a poor unsuspecting child. I won’t fuck a kid up like my old man did me.

  “Take your shirt off.”

  I comply to her demand and pull it up over the back of my head and toss it to the floor.

  Shelly places a towel on me, draping it over my bare shoulders. Her tit presses against my cheek as she leans over my shoulder from behind to smooth the navy-blue cotton towel out. I want to bite her but refrain...for now.

  She moves around the kitchen, humming a tune I don’t recognize.

  “Whatcha singing?”

  “Hmmm? Oh, I don’t know.” She shakes her head, confusion etched in her eyes. “It must be something I liked but what, I don't know.”

  Running the faucet in the sink, she wets her hands then rubs them over my beard.

  Tilting my head back, I get a face full of her tits. I’m not sure how long I can handle this without making a move to scratch my itch to have her perfect titties in my mouth. Her fucking sinful body under me, crying out my name when I fuck her hard from behind.

 

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