HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  “I like it, too. What song is this?”

  “It’s The Record Company. The song is On the Move.”

  It was a bluesy song with a good beat and a cool harmonica solo. I imagined him fucking me while it played in the background, and got uncomfortably horny at the thought.

  “Do you know the names of them all?”

  “Most of them.”

  Since I got pregnant, we hadn’t had sex. Being near Smokey for any length of time and not wanting to fuck him was impossible. Considering how caring he’d been, and how many times he’d snuck in an unsuspecting kiss, I couldn’t help but wonder why we hadn’t fucked since trying to make things work out.

  I set my book on the coffee table. “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

  Immersed in the music, he sat in his chair in a trance-like state and nodded lightly.

  I went to the bedroom and got undressed. I chose a plaid skirt, knee-high socks, my Chucks, and a white button down shirt, then got dressed. Feeling good about my decision, I dug through my dresser drawer, found my black horn-rimmed glasses, and put them on.

  I got to the door, peered into the living room, and noticed Smokey had gone into the kitchen. After a quick reconsideration, I changed my plans, ditched my panties, and tiptoed into the living room.

  “Need anything while I’m in here?” he shouted.

  “No, thank you.”

  His focus was on the small can of almonds he was carrying, and he didn’t even notice me. He sat in his chair, poured a few almonds into his palm, and set the can aside.

  “You know, these little fuckers are really good for you. They’ve got…” He looked up. “Jesus.”

  “What?”

  He swallowed heavily. “Goin’ somewhere?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh.” He tossed a few of the almonds into his mouth. “What uhhm. Why’d you change?”

  I shrugged. “I got tired of the sweats and tee shirt.”

  He swallowed again.

  I turned toward him and wagged my knees back and forth, slowly.

  “I didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

  “I don’t.”

  He set the remaining almonds beside the tin and wiped his hand on the thigh of his jeans. “You are.”

  Using the tip of my index finger, I pushed them up the bridge of my nose. “I just put ‘em on when I want to get noticed.”

  His eyes fell to my feet, then slowly took in every inch of my outfit. He crossed his legs. “What. What about the uhhm.” He motioned toward the floor. “What about the socks?”

  “They keep my legs warm.”

  “Are you cold?”

  I wagged my knees again, once. “No but I will be.”

  He fixed his gaze on my nether region, uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again. “Why?”

  “When I take off the skirt. My little butt might get cold. The socks will keep my legs warm.”

  “You uhhm. You plannin’ on taking it off, are you?”

  I slid the glasses down to the tip of my nose, and peered at him over the top of the frames. “I think I might. There’s one good thing about taking it off, though.”

  He let out an audible breath, then swallowed again. “What’s that?”

  “I won’t have to take off my panties.”

  He nodded, but it seemed unintentional. Seeing him dressed in his jeans and a wife beater, yet acting so uncomfortable, was rewarding.

  And torturous.

  “You gonna. You uhhm. You plannin’ on leaving them on?” he stammered. “The uhh. The panties?”

  Feigning innocence, I pointed toward the bedroom door and wiggled my index finger. “On my way out here. I dropped them on accident. They’re on the floor over there.”

  I crossed my legs, and then uncrossed them, lifting my left leg high enough that he should have been able to see my pussy when I did it.

  I was soaked, and wondered if he was as excited as I was. If nothing else, he was terribly uncomfortable, and I was enjoying it.

  “The shoes are uhhm. They’re cute.”

  I extended my left leg straight, spread my legs wide, and pointed my foot toward him. “I can get good traction with them.”

  “Traction?”

  I stood, turned toward the loveseat, and bent over.

  A heavy sigh shot from his lungs.

  I tilted my head to the side, looked at him, and spread my feet wide, stomping them in place onto the hardwood floor. “When I’m getting fucked from behind. They let me stay in one place, and not slide around.”

  “Jesus.”

  “What?”

  He uncrossed his legs and stood.

  Every inch of the outline of his cock was visible through his faded jeans, and it was as hard as a rock.

  I stood, turned toward him, and swallowed heavily.

  I covered my mouth with my fingertips and twisted my hips back and forth. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  I lowered myself to my knees, pushed my glasses up my nose, and held out my hands. “Let me see if I can fix that for you. I know a trick.”

  He took a few steps toward me. “A trick.”

  I nodded. “Uh huh. Get it out, and I’ll show you.”

  I was surprised there wasn’t a puddle on the floor beneath me. I was soaking wet, and felt like I was going to burst into flames. Inches from my grasp, the sexiest man on earth was walking in my direction, and he had a raging stiffy so big it was intimidating.

  He stepped in front of me, unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his pants.

  His cock rose to attention, then twitched.

  I put my hand against my cheek, tilted my head to the side, and acted slightly confused. “If I remember right, you’re going to need to put it in my mouth and let me suck on it for a while.”

  I looked up.

  His arms were folded in front of his massive chest. He met my gaze. “If you think it’ll work.”

  “It works best if you talk dirty while I’m doing it.”

  “Does it?”

  I nodded. “Filthy.”

  I loved dirty talk, and although most women would probably disagree with my taste in sexual banter, the nastier it was the more turned on I got. For me, having my man call me a dirty little whore during the throes of passion was a huge turn on.

  But, it only worked with the right guy at the right time.

  There was no doubt Smokey was the right guy.

  And, the juices that were running along my inner thigh were proof enough that it was the right time.

  “How filthy?” he asked.

  “I just love being talked dirty to.” I glanced at his twitching cock, and then met his downward gaze. “The filthier, the better.”

  He stroked his hand along the thick shaft. “Put my cock in your mouth.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “That’s not even close.”

  “Suck my cock,” he growled.

  Obviously, he needed a little encouragement, so I took a chance. A big chance. “Make me,” I said. “Or you can go sit your pussy ass down on the couch and whack off.”

  He grabbed my head in his hands, forced his cock into my mouth, and began to fuck my face like he was ridding himself of a lifetime of anger. “Suck that cock, you mouthy little slut.”

  My eyes fell closed, and I eagerly accepted every inch of him into my throat. With each thrust of his hips, he barked out another verbal expression of his deepest desires.

  Me?

  I was in cock heaven.

  With the tip of his dick filling my throat and his hips plastered against my face, breathing wasn’t easy. I loved every fucking minute of it.

  While I struggled to survive on what little oxygen was in my lungs, continuing all the while to be the little whore that I knew he deserved, he fucked my face it was all that mattered to him. I hoped, at least for that moment, that it was all that mattered to him.

  When I reached a point that I could take it any longer, I pu
shed against him and turned my head to the side.

  I sucked in a quick breath, hoping he wouldn’t give me much time to recover.

  He sure didn’t.

  “I said suck that cock.” He guided it past my lips, into my mouth, and commenced to pound himself into my willing throat.

  For me, sucking a cock was a much-needed prerequisite to sex. I was already soaking wet before we started, but having a cock against my face made me horny down to my core.

  Having Smokey’s stiff shaft forced into my mouth was doing a wonderful job of prepping me for a full night of crazy sex, and I was loving every thick inch of it.

  And we were just getting started.

  As his scent filled my nostrils, he thrust his cock in and out of my mouth with long strokes. With each rearward motion of his hips, he was cautious enough not to allow me to gasp another breath before he pushed it deep into my throat again.

  Confused, exhausted, and horny as fuck, I allowed it to continue for as long as I could.

  “Gag on that big dick,” he growled. “And get those big titties out and squeeze ‘em.”

  As soon as I realized what he’d said, I fumbled to unbutton my top.

  “Listen to me, you dirty little slut.” His hand gripped my neck. “I told you to squeeze those big titties.”

  Oh God.

  Yes.

  With my neck clenched firmly in his hand, he forced his hips against my face, and then ripped my top open. As the buttons scattered across the floor, I yanked my bra down and immediately began fumbling with my hard nipples.

  With my head reeling from lack of oxygen, and my pussy on fire, I squeezed my nipples and pulled on my titties.

  I was on the verge of a sexual meltdown.

  He pulled himself from my mouth.

  I gulped a breath, and then another.

  I looked up.

  He must have seen it in my eyes.

  With his eyes locked on mine and the web of his hand beneath my chin, he lifted me to my feet.

  My face was sloppy from his assault of my mouth.

  He pressed his lips to mine and kissed me savagely.

  Oh, God.

  Yes.

  Yes.

  Yes.

  His mouth was mashed against mine. Our tongues intertwined.

  He pulled away and looked me in the eyes. “Bend over and show me that little pussy.”

  Telling his blue eyes no would have been impossible. When it came to Smokey, however, I was afraid the word no would never pass my lips.

  My head was spinning. I stumbled to the edge of the couch, hiked my skirt over my hips and spread my feet wide.

  “Take it,” I breathed. “It’s yours.”

  The pressure of his fingers being shoved inside me caused me to gulp a breath.

  “God damned right it is,” he said. “My pussy.”

  My eyes fell closed at the thought of him taking possession of me. “Yours.”

  He worked his fingers in and out of my wetness, the palm of his hand tapping my swollen nub with each stroke.

  “Mine,” he growled.

  Hearing him claim me as his caused me to melt. In response, my clit tingled.

  Then, my pussy contracted.

  His fingers continued their magic. “Mine,” he said. “My fucking pussy.”

  I bit into my lips and snuck in an orgasm. And then, another.

  He leaned over me. With his muscular chest against my back, he pressed his mouth to my ear. “Did you come?”

  “I…uhhm…uh huh.”

  “Don’t do it again without permission,” he commanded.

  His warm breath caused goosebumps to rise along my arms. Then, my legs buckled. I inhaled a choppy breath and offered my apology. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  His fingers slipped from inside of me, and although I still felt the tingle from his touch, I yearned for more.

  I lifted my head, and glanced over my shoulder.

  His fingers twisted into my curly locks, and with my hair gripped tight in his hand, he forced my face against the couch cushion.

  I gasped as I felt the pressure of him penetrating me.

  My head was spinning. His thick cock seemed to take me places I had never been to, and being there confused me greatly. I focused on the feeling of having him inside of me and tried to escape to a place that allowed me to relish in it.

  “Do you like that thick cock?”

  The sound of his voice was distant and dull.

  I blinked, and prepared to respond.

  Whack!

  A sharp sting on my right ass cheek caused me to suck in an unexpected breath.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “I love…” I drew another breath. “I love it.”

  He pushed himself in so deep he bottomed out. “Your tight little pussy feels good.”

  I clenched my eyes closed. “I love your cock.”

  “Louder,” he said. “Scream it.”

  “I love your cock!”

  It felt good to say it. It felt better to scream it.

  His intensity increased. The sound of skin-on-skin drowned out the sound of the music.

  “Again,” he shouted. “Say it over and over. Who’s cock do you love?”

  With each stroke, I shouted.

  “I love your cock!”

  “I love your cock!”

  “I love your cock!”

  I felt him swell.

  Oh, God. Please.

  My inner walls clenched him tight.

  “I love your cock!” I bellowed. “I love your cock!”

  “I love your cock!”

  His hips swung back and forth wildly, filling me completely with his thickness.

  “I love your cock!”

  He pressed himself deep inside and held his hips against my ass.

  “I love your cock!”

  Oh God.

  My pussy contracted, sending a wave of emotion through me. Slowly, he pulled himself from me.

  The thought of my impending orgasm escaped me.

  I felt the tip of his cock against my wet lips. As he pushed himself back in deep, I recalled the need to ask permission.

  “Can I come?”

  “You may.”

  My body shuddered.

  Every inch of me began to tingle.

  Two quick strokes later, and he swelled and became stiff as a stone.

  I felt him explode inside of me.

  The feeling of his release caused me to do the same.

  Together, we reached a climax like no other I’d ever experienced.

  “Fuuuuck yesss,” he howled.

  My legs quivered. With my face buried in the couch cushion, I heaved for each breath. Eventually, I lifted my head and turned to face him.

  “You’re amazing,” I whispered.

  “You’re mine,” he said. “Don’t you ever forget that, Sandy.”

  “Yours.” Saying it felt right, so I said it again. “Yours.”

  “I mean it,” he said.

  I grinned. “I do, too.”

  We showered together, and he took special care of me, holding me, kissing me, and insisting that he wash my entire body.

  With my back to the shower head, I let the warm water sooth my tired muscles. I closed my eyes as he dabbed me with the soapy loofa.

  He snuck an unexpected kiss, and the surprise caused my heart to flutter.

  It dawned on me as the water cascaded down upon us that he wasn’t the man I thought he was when we met. He was simply protecting what was important to him, and sacrificing who he was to do so.

  Now that we were together, his true self was shining through.

  Attaching myself to Smokey was difficult. Doing so with Grayson Edward Wallace was easy.

  All I had to do was open my eyes.

  I opened my eyes. “I like you.”

  He dragged his hands across his hair, turned off the water, and chuckled. “I like you, too.”

  We got out, dried off, and I got
dressed. After fumbling in the closet for a moment, he slipped on a pair of sweats and an old tee shirt.

  “You look cute.”

  “Cute?” He coughed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

  When we walked into the living room, another blues tune was playing. Once again, I imagined him fucking me to it sometime in the near future.

  I paused and cocked my head to the side. “Who is this?”

  “The Heavy, Short Change Hero,” he said.

  “How do you remember everything?”

  He shrugged. “Mind like a vault.”

  We each got a bottle of water and he kissed me on the way out of the kitchen. It wasn’t aggressive, or extremely passionate, but it was meaningful, and I’d eagerly take as many of them as he wanted to give me.

  “7Horse Meth Lab Zoso Sticker,” he said as we walked into the living room.

  Before we got to the couch, the front door opened.

  Eddie stepped through the door, walked to the loveseat, and sat down. “Hi.”

  Smokey turned to face her. “How’d it go?”

  She grinned. “Perfect.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Let’s see. Pizza, then coffee. Sunset from the pier, then ice cream, and another coffee. Went back to the beach, walked around barefoot, and then here.”

  “Glad you had fun.”

  She looked at each of us. “What about you guys?”

  He shrugged. “Just listened to music.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “7Horse.” She nodded. “Love this song.”

  “What is it with you two?” I asked.

  “What?” Eddie asked.

  “The music. How do you remember all the songs?”

  “Seventeen years from now,” she said. “And you’ll know all of them, too.”

  I hoped she was right.

  And, I was eager to spend the next seventeen years finding out.

  Chapter One Hundred Forty-Three

  Smokey

  “I ain’t riding with the cocksucker,” P-Nut said. “I don’t give a fuck.”

  “He’s a good kid.” I wiped a few water droplets off the rear fender. “Give him a chance.”

  He shot me a look. “He ain’t got a neck.”

  I looked the bike over, and then met his gaze. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I don’t trust neckless fuckers.”

  “You don’t trust anyone.”

  He shrugged. “Trust you.”