Unstoppable

by Scott Hildreth

  My profession affords me the ability to be exposed to all of what life offers, regarding personalities and character of people. I have defended drug traffickers, firearms traffickers, murderers, financial criminals, and the occasional human trafficker. Some were innocent and some, although incapable of expressing it, were certainly guilty. I defended them all the same, and gave the best defense, as a matter of law, that I could offer. I never became friends with any of my clients, but I admired a few of them. A few have proven to possess an extremely high degree of moral fiber, character, and confidence.

  Michael, although somewhat of natural goofball, exceeded my expectation, hope, and had even set a new standard of comparison for me in regard to moral fiber and character. Being in his presence, now, was increasingly difficult. I wanted more of him. I yearned to have him sexually.

  “So, you’re in business to sell shoes, right? You want to sell ‘em, not just display ‘em, right?” he asked the clerk.

  “Well, yeah. We sell shoes. That’s what we do. These are the display models,” the clerk responded as he waved his arms over the display.

  “Well, how in the fuck you suppose you’re gonna sell a pair of tangerine Chuck’s if you ain’t got a pair of tangerine Chuck’s?” he placed his hands on his hips, cocked his head to the side, and waited for a response.

  “Well, I suppose we won’t. We can order them. We have all of these in stock. The tangerine ones are sold out,” the clerk apologized.

  “Well, you should take ‘em off the display. It’s like false advertising,” he said as he lifted the single tangerine shoe from the display and handed it to the clerk.

  “I like the mint ones,” I said softly.

  “Which ones are mint?” he asked.

  “That sir, would be these,” the clerk sighed as he lifted the mint shoe from the display.

  “That’s green,” he said as he stared at the shoe.

  “Mint is green, sir,” the clerk responded as he tried to refrain from laughing.

  “Well you don’t have to be a little prick about it,” Ripp said through his clenched teeth.

  As Ripp turned toward me, I shrugged, “I like them.”

  “Well, bring us a six in that color,” he demanded as he sat down on the bench in front of the display.

  “Do you like them?” I asked.

  “Yeah, they’re alright. I’ll see what they look like on your feet,” he responded as he patted the bench beside where he sat.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I turned to sit on the bench.

  “Yeah, I’m alright. Just kind of blah. You know?” he said as he rested his chin in between his thumb and forefinger.

  Eagerly, I sat beside him and inched close enough that our thighs were touching. Having him touch me in any way allowed me to feel a degree of safety that was difficult for even me to explain. It wasn’t necessarily his size, although his size helped. More of what made me comfortable was the knowing - knowing that he would never let anything happen to me, no matter what. In Michael’s physical presence, I felt as if I, too, was invincible.

  “Not a virgin for much longer,” I said as I looked down at my sandals.

  “Excuse me?” he said over his shoulder.

  “A Chuck’s virgin. Not for much longer,” I smiled.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s exciting. They’re the best shoe ever,” he said as he raised his foot in the air and inspected his shoe.

  “Here you go,” the clerk said as he placed the box in front of my feet.

  “I brought you a pair of socks to try them on with,” he said as he handed me a pair of foot stockings.

  I nodded at the clerk and opened the box. After pulled off my sandals and pulling on the stockings, I removed the shoes from the box, slipped my feet into them, and laced them snug. As I stood, Michael looked down at my feet and slowly stood up. He raised his right hand to his chin and looked up and down my frame, smiling. As I walked through the store, I was pleasantly surprised at the comfort of the simple sneaker - it felt as if I were barefoot. The shoe was light and comfortable, with minimal support and maximum comfort. As I walked in front of Michael, he smiled and slowly raised his eyebrows.

  “I love them,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I continued to admire the shoes.

  “I’m fine, let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said nervously.

  “Did I miss something? Did something happen?” I asked.

  “Something’s gettin’ ready to happen,” he said as he pointed his index finger at my face and shook it.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, uncertain of what had changed, but something certainly had.

  He leaned close to me, lightly placed his hand on my neck, and moved his mouth to my right ear. As his left hand brushed my hair away from my ear, his warm breath caused goose bumps to rise along my upper arm.

  “I’m done, Vee. I’m fucking done. I’m done not fucking you. From this day forward, I’m not going to spend one single day not fucking you. Now Vee, right fucking now, if you’ve got something to say about this, say it,” he paused and squeezed my neck with a little more force.

  Silently I stood there, unaware of everything else around me. For this instant, the entire world consisted of four things; Mike Ripton, me, the thought of his ten inches of pierced cock, and my now dripping pussy.

  “That’s what I thought,” he breathed into my ear, “that’s what I fucking thought. This little pussy of yours…”

  He reached down with his left hand and tapped his fingers against my soaking wet pussy.

  “That’s mine. My pussy. Now,” he whispered as he squeezed my neck a little more aggressively, “tell me who’s fucking pussy you’re carrying around with you.”

  I swallowed, or at least attempted to swallow the dryness that had developed in my throat. My lips parted as my eyes fell closed. “Yours,” I squeaked in an almost inaudible tone.

  “Say it like you fucking believe it, Vee. Convince me,” he grunted into my ear.

  I squeezed my thighs together and bent my knees. The whispering, his hands, his presence, his size, the thought of what may become of this; it was simply more than I was prepared for. I stood, soaked, not knowing what had happened to my will, my ability to resist womanly desires, or my lack of necessity for sex. At that particular moment, he could have fucked me in the shoe store. I wanted that. Gradually, his hand released some of the pressure on my neck.

  Oh God, no. Don’t stop.

  As if he knew what I desired, the pressure of his grip on my neck slowly increased. “Where’s your head, Vee?” he growled.

  The warmth of his breath caused goose bumps to rise on my legs. I shivered. Confused, horny, and soaked from my pussy to mid-thigh, I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again. “Uhhm,” I stammered.

  “Who’s little pussy is this,” his said as his left hand slapped against my pussy.

  “It’s yours, Ripp. That’s your pussy,” I sighed.

  “And, the last question, Vee. Starting today, what are we going to do?” his lips touched my ear as he spoke.

  “Whatever you want to, just name it,” I breathed.

  He released my neck from his grasp, slid his hand to my face, and formed his thumb and index finger along my jawline. As I opened my eyes, he kissed me. The kiss wasn’t long, nor was it overly aggressive. It was, in my wholehearted belief, the most passionate kiss I have ever had in my life.

  “You’re mine, Vee. Starting today. You are fucking mine,” he said as our lips parted.

  I nodded, and as with all things Mike Ripton, I knew he meant it.

  He looked down at my sandals and up at the clerk; who had moved fifteen feet away from the display of shoes. Perfectly, Michael kicked the empty box from where he stood across the floor to within a few inches in front of the clerk’s feet. As the sales clerk looked down at the empty box, Michael individually kicked my sandals to the exact same spot.

  “She’ll
wear ‘em out, box up the sandals, bro,” he said flatly.

  The clerk picked up the box and placed my sandals in it.

  “I’m going to fuck you in those shoes, Vee,” he said over his left shoulder.

  “Okay,” I squeaked.

  Mike Allen Ripton.

  Holy fuck.

  RIPP. I’ve spent my life, sexually speaking, not caring. I have never cared who I was with or what their desires were. I had always known sooner or later that I’d be satisfied with whoever I found to fuck, and although I satisfied them, I always acted selfishly. It was always about me. Not once did I go into a sexual situation with the intent of making anyone happy but myself. Satisfying myself, by nature, caused my sexual partner to be happy. The fact, however, remained that I was selfish. And I didn’t care.

  Thirty days with Vee, and all I could think about was how I didn’t want to disappoint her or cause her to believe I was doing anything for anyone but her. She might have been the right person at the right time, or maybe I was just ready for a change. Whatever caused me to feel the way I felt was irrelevant, the feeling existed, and I couldn’t change the way I felt. I can’t really say I was disappointed in any manner, because I wasn’t. In fact, I was pleased to feel like there was someone on this earth of the opposite sex that I could actually care about.

  Most mornings I woke up and looked around, not quite believing how I felt. I told myself early on it was something else, and I was merely confused. I tried to force myself to believe it wasn’t what it was, and I didn’t feel the way I felt. All it took to reassure me was seeing her again.

  Whenever we met again, went to dinner, or met for a drink, it would happen. Immediately I would be overcome with a feeling of not wanting it to end. And as soon as it ended, sometimes even five minutes after she had left, I felt a need to see her again immediately. I felt foolish and weak. I fought with the feelings from time to time, but finally decided if I felt the way I did and we weren’t having sex, the feelings must be genuine.

  It didn’t make it any easier to accept. I felt vulnerable. I had reservations about her sincerity. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was intelligent, had tremendous wit, and enjoyed the things I enjoyed. She had attended a bare knuckles match with Shane, Kace and I and liked it so much she didn’t stop talking about it for ten days. She, in my mind, was perfect. And I, Michael Allen Ripton, did not deserve perfection.

  But perfection stood before me.

  “I gotta come clean,” I confessed.

  “About?” she said as she started to untie her shoes.

  “Don’t take those off,” I said softly as I shook my head.

  “Okay,” she responded as she looked up from her shoe.

  “Sit down,” I pointed to the couch as I walked toward it.

  “What’s wrong, Ripp?” she asked as she sat down.

  “Nothing’s really wrong. I just need to tell you some things. Just clear up a few things that we’ve talked about. Make some things clear. I don’t know. I just need to kind of, well. Kind of come clean,” I said as I sat beside her.

  Worry washed over her face as she sat down beside me, “Is everything okay?”

  “Just listen, okay?” I said over my left shoulder.

  She nodded.

  “More than anything, I want this to work. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you, and I mean that. Whatever it takes. The thought of not having you makes me feel sick. I’ve never felt like this, ever. Hell, it’s new to me, and it scares the absolute fuck out of me, but I still want it. I want it more than anything,” I paused, rotated to my left and swung my legs onto the couch between us.

  “I want to be in a relationship with you more than anything. You said thirty days to get to know each other and all that. Hell, I’d wait thirty years. Some things in life we wonder about, and there are some things we know. I know this. I want to have the satisfaction of calling you mine, and give you the satisfaction of calling me yours,” I slid my hand to her thigh as I spoke.

  “I want that too,” she smiled.

  I held my finger in the air, “Well, here’s where it gets sticky.”

  “You want to be the submissive half of a dominant-submissive relationship,” I inhaled a shallow breath, exhaled, and continued, “And you want to have a dominant significant other. Well, I got news for you. I ain’t dominant. I kind of bullshitted you. I been reading books and asking lots of questions, but I ain’t there yet. I want to try, but I don’t have any experience.”

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  I nodded and waited for her to drop the bomb.

  “I don’t have any experience either. I’ve never been in this type of relationship, I told you that. I just know it is where I belong. So how about this, we’ll do it together? You and I? We’ll learn together? I just need you to take the reins, I need that,” she smiled.

  “And that’s it? You’re okay with everything else?” I asked.

  She nodded and smiled.

  “Okay, well,” I inhaled another shallow breath and smiled.

  “Starting this minute, I’m taking charge. For right now, I think only one thing matters, we can figure out everything else in time. We’re going to come up with a safe word, and if I do anything you don’t want or don’t like, you say it, and we’ll stop,” I paused and waited for her to speak.

  She nodded eagerly as I rubbed my hand along her thigh.

  “Okay, and another thing. I might do some things just to see if you like them, so don’t always think that anything I’m doing is because I like it or enjoy it. I’m gonna need to see what it is that you like, too. Nobody will ever be in trouble for communicating, ever. Okay?” I cocked one eyebrow and waited.

  She nodded eagerly.

  “Snowstorm,” she smiled.

  “What? What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

  “I want that for a safe word,” she said.

  “Really? That’s weird. They say it’s gotta be one you’ll never forget,” I reminded her.

  “I’ll never forget it. We’ll never see a snowstorm in Austin, and I don’t think you’ll ever hear me say that word. I like it,” she looked down at my hand and back up into my eyes.

  “You don’t think you’ll ever say it?” the thought of her not saying it excited me.

  She raised her eyebrows as she shook her head from side to side.

  “Snowstorm it is,” I chuckled.

  “We alright other than that?” I asked.

  She nodded eagerly.

  I snapped my fingers sharply, “Starting right fucking now.”

  “Stand up,” I said in a sharp demanding voice.

  Promptly, she stood from the couch and looked up into my eyes. Normally, she wore heels, but in her Chuck’s she was almost exactly a foot shorter than I was. I slipped my right hand behind her head and rested my thumb behind her right ear, cradling her head in my hand. As I leaned toward her to kiss her, I pulled her head into mine and held it there firmly.

  The long passionate kiss that followed caused her to moan and twist her hips. I kissed her for a long moment, continuing to hold her head firmly in my hand. As our lips parted, I sucked and kissed each of her lips individually.

  I turned her head to the right, and moved my mouth to the left side of her face, kissing the portion of collar bone that exposed itself from the neck of her shirt. Slowly, my mouth moved from her collarbone to her neck. As I kissed her neck, her moans became more pronounced. Kissing and licking my way up her neck to her ear, I nibbled her earlobe and opened my mouth, pressing my wet lips to her ear.

  “I’m going to make you cum, Vee. Right now, I am going to make you cum, and there will be nothing you can do to stop me,” I growled into her ear.

  With her head in my hand, and my mouth against her ear, I slid my left hand up the inside of her left thigh and into the bottom of her shorts. As I pulled her panties to the side, I could feel the extent of her wetness. The crotch of her shorts was soaked, as were her panties. Pulling her
panties down with the back side of my fingers, I I slid the tip of my middle finger up and down the length of her pussy lips. With each stroke, I whispered into her ear.

  “Mine. Understand?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  Again, I stroked my finger along her wet pussy, flicking my finger tip against her clit before I started over.

  “Mine. Understand?”

  “Mmmhhhm,” she groaned lightly.

  As I slid my finger along her pussy, I pressed my finger inside of her about an inch and quickly pulled it out.

  “Oh God,” she sighed as she twisted her hips from side to side.

  I gripped the back of her head firmly in my right hand and licked my lips. As I pressed my wet lips against her ear, she moaned loudly and bent her knees.

  “That’s mine. This right here,” I pressed my finger in up to my last knuckle, “you just carry it around for me. It’s my little pussy do you hear me, Vivian Simon?”

  She nodded her head as she whimpered, “Uhh huuh.”

  “This,” I slid my finger in up to the knuckle again and pulled it out.

  “Little,” I breathed into her ear as I pressed my finger inside of her again.

  She raised and lowered herself on her toes nervously as she moaned. Slowly, I pulled my finger out of her soaking wet pussy.

  “Pussy,” I bit her earlobe and slowly slid my finger to her clit and began to circle it with the tip of my finger.

  I could feel my cock pressing against the material of my shorts. Teasing her was torturing me just as much if not more. I wanted her to want me, and to do so in a way she had never desired another man. I slid my finger from her clit to inside her pussy again, and drug my teeth along her upper jaw right below her ear. As I slid my finger inside of her again, I moved my teeth up and down her upper jaw.