She paused at the far end of the couch, pressed the web of her hand against her waist, and arched her back slightly. “You’re going to give it to me, huh?”
Her hourglass figure was far more pronounced in tight jeans and tight tee shirt than it was in baggy pants and a hoodie. She could wear a garbage sack and be stunning, but in the clothes she wore, she looked gorgeous.
I set my beer on the end table. “God damned right.”
She nodded toward the bottle. “I thought you weren’t going to drink beer on the new couch?”
“I forgot.”
“You said, this cost too damned much money to stain it.”
My cock was begging to be freed of its restraint, and I wasn’t planning on keeping it waiting any longer. I reached for my belt. “I’ll finish the beer in the kitchen. First things first. Get your ass over here.”
Watching her parade around in various outfits for half an hour had me so sexually frustrated that I felt like I was going to explode. I pushed my pants to mid-thigh, got my cock in my hand, and pointed toward the couch.
“Get over here and bend over.”
Her eyes went wide. “You’re going to give it to me from behind?”
It came to me we’d never done it doggy style, and realized I should take it slow. I maintained my stern voice nonetheless. “I’ll give it to you however I want. Now, get your ass over here and bend over. I’m done fucking around.”
She motioned toward my cock-filled hand. “We’re doing the pants around the thigh thing, are we?”
“God damned right.”
“Okay.” She walked the length of the couch, and then unfastened her jeans. After she pushed them to her thighs, she bent over the couch and peered over her shoulder. “I’m ready.”
“No panties?”
“Why bother?”
I stroked my cock and gave a nod. “Good attitude.”
She pressed her boobs against the couch cushion and hiked her ass high in the air. Her inner thighs were touching and her pussy was all but cinched closed. With her jeans around her thighs, spreading her legs was impossible.
My level of sexual frustration was at an all-time high, leaving last minute changes out of the question.
I placed my hand against the small of her back. After guiding my cock between her legs, I slowly pushed myself into her wet pussy. A few cautious short strokes later, and I slid myself into her fully.
“Holy crap,” she gasped. “I like this.”
“Finally getting that little pussy of yours broken in.” I gave her full strokes as I responded, each one of them as slow as I could go. Not jackhammer fucking her wasn’t as easy as one might think. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Truth be known, her pussy was incredible. Not because she was young, or that it was tight from lack of experience.
It was because it was hers.
“It feels incredible.”
“Because I really like your hair, and because I think those jeans are in-fucking-credible, I’m going to give it to you slow.”
“Will you come in my mouth?”
Jesus fucking…
Christ.
“I might.”
“Please?”
I felt like I was living in a fairy tale. “We’ll see.”
Watching myself fuck her wasn’t in the best interest of guaranteeing sexual longevity, but I gazed down her perfectly shaped ass nonetheless. I watched my cock disappear into her folds over and over, her pussy clenching me like a warm wet vise each time I pushed myself into her.
A few strokes later, and the combination of my previous sexual frustration, her magical pussy, and my ridiculous decision to watch caught up with me.
I was ten minutes into sex, and I was on the verge of a monstrous orgasm.
“Are you going to come?” she asked. “I want it in my mouth.”
I couldn’t make it one more stroke. I pulled out and squeezed my cock in my fist, hoping I could buy another few seconds of time.
Before she could turn around, I exploded.
Cum splattered all over her back of her new shirt, into her perfect hair, and onto the back cushion of the new couch.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Did you just come all over me, and the couch?”
I widened my eyes, twisted my mouth to the side, and shrugged. “Sure looks like it.”
“That means you were super excited, right?”
I raised both eyebrows and let out a laugh. “Something like that.”
“That’s awesome,” she said.
I should have felt embarrassed, but oddly, I didn’t. I looked at the cum-soaked couch, and then at Joey. She provided me a degree of comfort I’d never really known. The change was comforting for many reasons, primarily because I could see myself actually making it a lifetime with her without any effort at all.
“You’re right. It is awesome.”
Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Five
Joey
The driveway that led to the two-story house was lined with various shrubs and decorative flowers. The yard was green and lush, unlike the homes in the city where we lived. The large lawn was filled with trees, most of which I didn’t recognize, but there were a few I did.
The orange trees were difficult to miss.
“Those are oranges, right?”
He glanced at the trees on my left and grinned. “Yep.”
A stone birdbath in the center of the yard seemed to be a popular place for the neighborhood’s birds. It was filled with them, each of which was singing the praises of having a place to bathe in where there was normally very little water.
I climbed off the motorcycle and pointed to it. “I’m surprised that doesn’t dry up.”
“Gets filled almost every day,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“So, who lives here?”
“Come on,” he said. “You’re getting ready to find out.”
We walked to the front porch, and instead of knocking, he poked a key in the lock. After turning it, he pushed the door open.
“Just me, Karen,” he shouted.
A voice from the rear of the home responded. “Good morning, Percy.”
We stepped inside. A large living room on the right was filled with antique furniture. In a chair beside the window, an adorable older woman sat. She was dressed like she was preparing to go to church. Her gray hair was curled, and her hands rested in her lap.
She turned to face us. “Is that her?”
“Take it easy, ma. We’re barely inside the door.”
Awwe.
You brought me to meet your mother?
She glanced at the door and then at him. “The door you haven’t closed yet?”
“I was getting to it.”
He closed the door. “There, see?”
“I can see just fine. What are you doing here? It’s Saturday. You stop in Monday through Friday.”
“You wanted to meet Joey, so I thought we’d come by.”
“Joey,” she said. “That’s different.”
I waved.
“Come here and let me have a look at you,” she said.
I walked to where she sat and stood beside the chair. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joey.”
“I’m Beverly. Percy’s mother.”
“Nice to meet you, Beverly.”
“Call me Bev.”
“Okay, Bev.”
“He brought you on that motorcycle, didn’t he?”
“He did.”
“I’ll be glad when he gets rid of that thing. It scares me.”
I smiled, glanced at Percy, and then shifted my eyes to her. “It doesn’t scare me.”
“Well, it should. They tip over. It’s because they’ve only two wheels.”
“He’s a really good rider.”
“Is he?”
I sat across from her, on the edge of the loveseat. “He is. He’s extra careful.”
“Well that’s good. He should be, especially with you on i
t. Do you wear a helmet?”
“Yes, Ma’am. It’s a state law.”
“Well, it should be. Brain buckets. That’s what Percy Senior called them.”
I laughed. “I’ve heard them called that.”
She alternated glances between Percy and me. “Did you go to the park?”
“We did,” he said.
“Did you get ice cream?”
“We did,” he said.
It dawned on me what she was talking about. Belmont Park.
“Did she offer you her ice cream?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?”
She smiled, and then looked at me. “I told him if you offered your ice cream that I wanted to meet you. If you didn’t, I said he could keep you a secret.”
“That wasn’t what she said,” Percy said. “Not exactly, anyway.”
“Close enough.” She glared at him, and then looked at me and smiled. “Where are you from, dear?”
“Southern California. I’ve lived in a few places. El Cajon. Lakeside. San Diego. I live in Oceanside, now.”
“Percy lives in Oceanside.”
“She knows, ma.”
“Hush, Percy. Go talk to Karen. She needs your help in the kitchen.”
Percy sat down beside me.
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. “Haven’t you got something to tend to? Leave us ladies alone for a while.”
He let out a sigh and then stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Take your time.”
He kissed me and then walked away.
“He’s protective of me,” she said. “Always has been.”
“He’s protective of me, too.”
“As he should be. If Senior found out he wasn’t, he’d tan his hide.”
“His father?”
She nodded. “Percy Senior. He’s been gone now for some time. But. He raised those four boys right. They made him proud. Percy was going to play pro baseball. Did he tell you that?”
“He did.”
“The accident put a stop to it. It was an awful thing. He could hit the ball over the fence every time. After that happened, everything changed. Accidents will do that. Change things, you know.”
“They sure will.”
“He made the most of it, though. He played for a while, but the kids made fun of him. That’s when the fighting started. They kicked him out of that school, and we put him in another. Then, they kicked him out of it. He never cared much for the kids that bullied others, whether it be him or anyone else. He finally completed his schooling, but it was in a private school in San Diego.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Since Patrick was born. All four of those little hellions grew up in this home.”
I smiled at the thought of Percy running around the home as a child. “I bet it was fun having four boys in the house.”
“We had two, Peter and Patrick. Then, sometime later, we had Paul. Percy came last. His two older brothers were in high school when he was born. Paul was three years older.”
“Oh. Big age differences. Did they get along?”
“Not at all. The older boys used to make him eat bugs, and they didn’t allow him in their tree house. Have you seen the tree house?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Have him show it to you. It’s out back. When Peter and Patrick went to the military, he went out there with a pile of wood and a hammer. He made that thing as big as he could. Then, when Paul came home on leave the first time, Percy wouldn’t let him in it. He wouldn’t even let him stand under it. He was sixteen and Paul was nineteen at the time. Percy tried to fight him. Said the tree house was his now. Then, one night, Paul climbed up the ladder. Percy hit him in the head with his baseball bat. Cut him so bad that the ambulance had to come. Paul was late for formation, and had a scar the width of his forehead. Percy’s an ornery little stinker.”
I smiled. “He can be.”
“So, you’ve seen that side of him?”
“I have.”
“He’s got his own way of solving problems, that’s for sure.”
“We’re all unique, I suppose,” I said.
“Did he tell you about the girl who broke his heart?”
“Uhhm. I don’t think so.”
“It’s a story you need to hear.” Her eyes fell to the floor. She sighed. After a moment’s wait, she looked at me. “When Senior passed. Percy was twenty-one, and still staying here helping with his father. Paul was stationed in Jacksonville, North Carolina at the time, and he was twenty-four. It was bad enough to have Senior pass, but that was an awful weekend, for sure.”
“What happened?”
She straightened her posture and shook her head lightly. “Percy had been seeing a girl for many years. Since school, anyway. He was in love. I wasn’t so sure about her at the time. Whenever Paul came home, and he came home every chance he got, it seemed he was sweet on her. Percy didn’t like it, but I can’t say that I blamed him. Then, on the weekend after Senior passed, Paul came home. When he left, he took the girl with him.”
“Percy’s girlfriend?” I gasped.
She nodded. “End’s up Percy was right about her. He’s always had a sixth sense about things. He moved out soon after. To Oceanside. On Brookside. 904.”
904 Brookside was where he lived now.
I digested everything she said, and when I did, my heart wadded up into a ball. My chest ached, and my throat tightened. It pained me to think that Percy had to endure such a horrific act, and that it was his brother who brought the pain upon him.
Percy’s reluctance to be with a woman, to trust, and to give himself fully to someone made perfect sense. I doubted if something similar happened to me that I would ever recover fully.
“So uhhm. What happened after that? With her and Paul?”
“Well, they married. It was an awkward affair, and Percy wasn’t invited. They’ve got kids now. Paul doesn’t come around anymore. I’m sure they’re both afraid of what might happen.”
My throat tightened. For an instant, I thought I was going to vomit. I swallowed heavily and shook my head. “Holy cow. No. He didn’t tell me that.”
“That story stays between us.” She pinched her index finger and thumb together, raised them to her lips, and did the lip-zip thing. “Ladies honor. You needed to hear it, because it’s important that you know what he’s been through. I don’t want my Percy hurt again. He’s got a great heart. I’m just not sure he’s got another heartbreak left in him.”
“He won’t need one,” I said. “I’m going to stick around forever.”
“Forever’s a mighty long time.”
I cupped her hand in mine and smiled. “The difference between anyone else and me is that I truly love your son. He doesn’t know it yet, but he will. Keep that between us for now, Until I break the news, okay? Ladies honor.”
She smiled. “I like you.”
I squeezed her hand lightly. “I like you, too.”
She pointed toward the far wall. “See that fireplace?”
A fireplace was centered on the wall. The stone mantle was covered in photos of who I assumed were Percy and his brothers.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“We used to hang their Christmas stockings there. Filled them on Christmas eve. When they decided Santa Claus didn’t exist, we kept filling them anyway.”
I shot her a look of surprise. “Santa doesn’t exist?”
“He does in this house.”
“As he should.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Do you have any children?”
“Not yet.”
“I’d like to fill that mantle with stockings again before my time comes.”
I glanced at the fireplace. I imagined children’s voices, their excitement on Christmas morning, and their fights over who might be king of the treehouse. The thought filled me with excitement.
I looked at her and smiled. “I’d like that, too.”
Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Six
P-Nut
She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Dressed in my favorite jeans and one of the new tee shirts she’d recently purchased, she looked magnificent.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“You look magnificent.”
“Magnificent?”
I looked her up and down, and then gave her a kiss. “I’m thinking so.”
“So how does this work? I’ve always wondered.”
“What?”
“A poker run. What’s the process?”
“We hop on the sled and ride all fucking day.”
“So that’s the plan? We aimlessly ride up and down the coast?”
“No. It’s organized. Come on.” I turned toward the door. “We’re going to be late.”
She rushed to my side. “How about a quick rundown?”
“Everyone starts at a selected spot. They give each rider a sealed envelope. Inside it is a card that has all 52 cards from a deck of cards printed on it. On the outside of the envelope are the numbers 1 through 52. The rider slips the envelope in his pocket or hands it to his Ol’ Lady. In an organized group, we ride to five different cities. In each city, we pick a random number out of a bucket or a sack or a pile of ping pong balls. The person who’s in charge at each stop punches the card with the number we’ve randomly picked. At the last stop, we turn in our cards. We have no idea what five cards we’ve selected, because we can’t see the inside of the envelope. The proctor opens the envelope, tallies up who got what poker hand, and the best hand wins the grand prize. Make sense?”
“I think so. Poker with no skill. A random selection of cards by chance. Best five cards wins?”
I pulled the door closed, and checked the lock. “You’ve got it.”
“How many people attend?”
“Attend.” I chuckled. “You mean ride?”
“Yeah. How many people ride.”
I turned toward the driveway and shrugged. “At this one? Probably 2,500.”
“Holy cow. That’s crazy.”
“The five will be all but shut down. Cops will be there to direct traffic. It’ll be bikes from Oceanside to Irvine.”
“That’s 100 miles.”
Filthy F*ckers: The Complete Series Box Set Page 94