by HJ Bellus
The time to cut and run has long expired. If you don’t believe the root of all evil is money, then sit in my shoes for a couple of hours. Reaching for my glass of Jack and ice I bring it to my lips, throwing it all back in one long swallow. Once I’m on dry land I’m running and not looking back, you can bet on that.
Shit’s never been this complicated over the last years of after-hour clients. I never allowed anyone or anything to come between the job and raking in the dough. My body is sculpted into a well-oiled sex robot. My dick was happy, bank account filling, and cold Jack always at my fingertips.
Then she happened. A little ray of sunshine falling right into my life without warning or explanation. The explanation part is where I get hung up. I can't explain it or even begin to. All I can do is chalk it up to having to have a taste of her, feel her milk my cock, and call out my name the entire time. Yeah, my intentions are not anywhere close to morally correct. This ain’t no chick flick where the pussy hero gets hit with Cupid’s arrow. That’s the one thing I do know for certain, or that’s what I keep telling myself. There’s something about Raylan I could wrap up in and lose myself forever.
I drain the rest of the Jack bottle into my glass. The dark liquid is flowing over the ice cubes coming to rest at the bottom. I take it slower on this glass knowing it will be another long night with Iris.
She has taken it easy on me today, not that I’m complaining. Her go-to motives of using me until I’m on the verge of shattering were nowhere to be found. She was livid after running into Raylan this morning. Iris demanded I sit on a chair and watch her with her friends and another young dumbass they brought into the mix. At first, I thought it was Wank Stain, but it wasn’t. Margaret was on cloud nine after Sophia gave in.
What a joke Iris sought out as a punishment! Everyone entertained themselves just fine. She really thought she had me by the balls when she ordered no touching myself or them. Shit, it was more like a “Get Out of Jail” for free card.
Iris is a smart cat. Even before our run-in this morning with Raylan she knew something was up and having me watch was her form of punishment. I’m a damn man which means thinking of sex, watching porn, a stiff breeze, or a naked woman makes my cock hard as steel. It’s a fact of life. It wasn’t the naked women, cries of pleasure, or slapping of flesh in Iris a few hours ago that had precum dripping from my dick. It was the memory of Raylan’s body pressed into mine this morning.
The rest of the Jack drains from the glass with that honest admission. I’m so fucked up. The corners of my lips turn up, and worries vanish when I hear the evidence she found the little gift I left for her. I had to take a few minutes to cool down after Iris’s bitch move in front of Raylan and I struck gold. The priceless, sexy gold nugget was Raylan’s ass swaying back and forth, escaping an embarrassing moment brought to her courtesy of Iris.
When we were out of sight from Raylan and her friends I let Iris have it. I’ve never disrespected Iris, but she’s also never given me a reason to until this morning. I know there will be more consequences for my actions and by damn Iris better know the damn same. She’s paying me. I’m doing my job. She has not one zero damn right to be possessive over me. There ain't no reason I can’t hook up with another chick while on the cruise as long as I do my job for her. Ironic as it sounds, hook-ups have never been my thing. The real me wants more than sex. Take that one for a spin on the highway of mind fucks of all mind fucks.
A song drifts into my room from Raylan’s. The naughty little girl picked one with some energy and a fast pace beat. I slide my hand into my sweatpants, squeezing my dick.
“Fuck,” I growl between clenched teeth.
My imagination runs wild picturing her spread out naked on her bed. Nervous at first, biting on her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed a sweet, light pink, and her nerves getting the best of her. I imagine her talking herself out of doing it, but relenting in the end. Her nipples are peaked, aching to have my tongue swirling around them.
I roll my throbbing cock out of my shorts, but before I can stroke it I hear her. The song is peaking in a crescendo and her screaming out holy shit.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Give me more. Let go.”
Her light moans are barely audible through the walls. The song is on repeat and is starting over again. God, I’d give anything to watch her right now. I wouldn’t be a greedy man asking to touch her. All I’d need is to study her as she writhes in pleasure. A life sentence of it would be the sweetest heaven and hell at the same time. I stroke my cock using my imagination, matching her rhythm. I grip it so tight it's nearing a painful state. My balls jump in excitement. I’m strokes away from blowing my load.
“Roberto.”
My blood turns cold. Anger builds up inside to me until I’m at a raging state. I’m not a fool knowing exactly who Roberto is. I overheard him and his gang of dick bags talking in the dining hall. Talk about a group of slick motherfuckers thinking they’re bigger than life. They have a real big set of balls to dress up and pretend to be kingpins. They’re nothing but frauds looking for sugar mommas. It doesn't explain why Wank Stain is all over Raylan. Hell, she may be rich for all I know, but everything about her screams everyday girl.
It happens again then again. Wank Stain’s name rolling off her tongue like she’s ready to devour him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Fuck this shit. I pull out the remote I conveniently kept for myself. If there’s one thing I do well, it’s controlling the action in the bedroom. It’s my fucking specialty. Let’s see how fast little Miss Raylan learns.
My thumb lands with a thud on the stop button. The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention waiting for the answer. Seconds later the music turns off, her soft cries no longer, and not one single mention of Roberto. Not one to waste time when it comes to getting a woman off, I use the remote to build her orgasm right back up to where she left off. Every single fucking time she calls his name, she’ll be going right back to level one.
Game on, Raylan.
It's slow and steady at first. The absence of music makes it easy to hear the bed squeak against the wall. My hand stroking my cock matches the rhythm of her toy. I pick it up a pace to a pulsating beat. Her moans are now clear. No names yet just her cries of joy. A tingle runs up my spine and I know I’m a goner.
“Sorry, baby, we need to hurry things up a bit.” My cock grows harder with the knowledge of me giving this to her.
I click the button on the remote to a rapid-fire pace. She’s practically screaming at this point. No shame at all. She’s letting go and what I wouldn’t give to see her face as she does it.
“Fuck,” I hiss, feeling the first jet of hot cum stream out. I milk every single ounce of pleasure out, wanting more than anything to have my hands in her hair, guiding her mouth down on my dick until she sucks me dry.
A garbled sound comes from her room. It was almost a name, but her passion hijacked it. Her moans are the loudest yet. Then it happens.
“Memphis.”
Just like that, my dick is hard again.
Eight
Raylan
Every part of me is spent and satisfied as I float down from my orgasm high. It wasn’t like that with micro-penis, the bad boy who took my V card, or my fingers. Holy shit, I owe Brenna big time for this toy. I shall name him Lenny. I am in love with Lenny and will show him how much every single day.
My chest is still heaving minutes after I experienced the most intense orgasm of my life. Oh, God! I slap my forehead, flushed with humiliation because there’s no way I wasn’t heard three cabins down. Please, please let everyone be out and about living up the cruise life. I was so taken aback by the multitude of sensations controlling my body and mind, and if I’m honest, the man in my thoughts driving the big O train home.
With my luck, I knew my starving vagina zapped the life out of Lenny. I could’ve cried buckets of tears when it turned off without warning leaving me dangling from a cliff. I shut down the app and the music then without warning Lenny we
nt back to work like a champ. It has to be a glitch or a defective vibrator. I’m not one to judge because Lenny is mine forever.
“Memphis.” The name rolls off my tongue like a whisper, a prayer.
Thinking of him again causes a few more tremors to run throughout my body from head to toe. What is it about this guy that I can’t shake? He’s obviously a manwhore who’s out for one thing from what I’ve seen.
My thought process leads me down a path I would never take. Facts are facts as my world has always been black and white. My parents did a bang up job of showing me that. I’ve always wanted the all-American life with the college degree, gorgeous husband, picket fence, and two point five kids. I’ve boxed myself into a life where my expectations were so black and white they required perfection. I’ve been missing out on life.
It’s not that my life is horrible by any means. My position at BrandRoot Energy pays double than most my age makes. I have a group of great friends not to mention Brenna and Josi who are always at my side giving me hell, I own a small home, and I get to work on my dream job at night.
It’s the strumming remnants of energy darting around in my body blaring at me like a neon flashing sign. This. This is what I’ve been missing out on. The courage to say to hell with it and take a chance. I’ve been too hyper-focused on end goals to enjoy the ride. It took one life-altering orgasm to put a stop to that shit.
Memphis stunned me earlier today, making me second guess everything I thought I once knew. The irony of the plot twist.
Nothing sounds better than round two and three with Lenny, but I know the girls will be dragging their ass from the bar to find me. As I get up from the bed, there’s a knock at the door.
No way it’s the slut twins. They have a strict two-hour rule before they search for me and that’s when they’re not trashed or getting railed.
“Who in the hell?” I whisper to myself.
Hurrying to hide any evidence of Lenny’s charm, I throw on a robe from the bathroom door and make sure I look decent. There’s no way to conceal my flushed cheeks at this point. They scream what I did.
I walk to the door fidgeting with the tie of the robe, wracking my brain. I would cut my best friends if they gave Roberto or a man they felt suitable for me my room number. It would be war. And for the record, I’d sue for custody of Lenny. I brush my long bangs to the side of my face, knowing they wouldn’t do such a thing.
I spring up on my tiptoes to peer through the peephole, raising a hand to cover an eye. Winking and whistling will never make it on my resume.
“Oh, God!”
I slam down flat-footed then slap my palm over my mouth when I hear him chuckle. It was meant to come out as a whisper but was a yelp.
“Just Memphis. No God out here. Well, unless you count sex God then yes accounted for and present.”
The deep rumble of his voice and light-hearted laughter stabs me right in the lady locker. Bursts of my quaking body earlier attack without warning. I’m revved up and ready for him. The throbbing growing out of control knowing he’s on the other side of the door.
What does he want? How does he know what room I’m in? What is his motive? There I go overthinking and analyzing again. Dammit, it’s what I do for a living. It’s engrained in me and after my earlier revelation analyzing and dissecting everything has been dictating my life holding me back.
Stay calm and open the door, Raylan.
It’s time to live it up. Him being here right now is a sign that you need to try new things. The universe is screaming at me to let the sides of that box fall wide open. Hell, the forces are pushing me to tear open the box and discover the possibilities on the outside of it.
Sexcation. That’s exactly what this is supposed to be. Not a find your soul mate type cruise. It doesn’t all have to be perfect to leap in, and the fact I’m thinking this scares me.
I swing open the door with gusto, barely missing the tip of my toes. I cringe in phantom pain for a mere second, imagining the disastrous and painful outcome.
“What are you doing here?”
Smooth, Raylan.
“Nice to see you again, too.” Memphis shrugs then dips his hands into the pockets of his shorts. I study his action as if it’s my last lifeline. More of his delectable flesh comes into view, and I drink it all in with no shame. What has this man done to me?
“Sorry, I’m tired.” More liked revved up, I think to myself. I reach up, burying my fingers in the fluffy collar of the robe, tugging it away from my neck that’s on fire, burning with all the sin I’m craving right now.
Memphis drops his gaze to the floor, studying it for a beat before raising his head with his smolder and charisma on full force. He crooks up a brow, making my knees go weak. “I’d be pretty tired, too, after what I heard.”
Oh. My. God. That did not come out of his mouth.
“What do you…How…You heard that?” I snap my mouth shut, realizing he’s stunned me stupid and not one single string of meaningful words will flow from my lips.
I wish for nothing else than this robe materializing into a turtle shell and me sinking into its barrier. I’d refuse to poke my head out for months or years until all this is a distant memory.
My mouth opens then shuts several times. Around the tenth attempt, I leave it closed. The box resembling my life I’ve blindly trapped myself in appears before me. It’s being crushed, no longer with perfect corners and sides. The clear tape sealing the top peels away in a torturous gesture by a six-foot man who could take down any enemy with his looks and body. Not to mention his clever banter and go get ‘em type attitude he carries around as his ammunition.
It’s simple. I want him. It’s all shades of wrong. It’s going to be messy as hell. But the ride will be one hell of a time. More specifically, me riding him like I was put on earth to do. He’s going to destroy me, but I chalk it up to the price of taking full advantage of life and chucking the all-American dream nestled in it to the damn curb.
“I heard every single moan and pictured your perfect tits as you found your release.” He steps in closer. His sweet, masculine scent smacks me upside the vagina. “I was irritated as hell it wasn’t my mouth and tongue making you scream.”
Memphis, or should I say Dr. Love, continues to move in a methodical fashion, drawing me in with each flex of his muscles. Did I mention he’s shirtless? He’s mothertrucking shirtless. Ripe for the picking and all. His fist lands on the door jamb with a thud. Dr. Love leans into the door, allowing his wound up body to relax.
His message is received loud and clear. Memphis Love is in charge when it comes to getting what he wants.
Dr. Love, I have a tingling suspicion you hold the perfect cure to what I’ve been needing.
Nine
Memphis
That damn cherry vanilla scent is slapping me in the face. I bite back a groan. Flush-faced, hair flowing around her shoulders, and in a white, plain robe. It ain’t anything but a robe your damn grandma would wear on a cold wintery night. But Raylan rocks it. The fact I was fantasizing about what’s under that robe while jerking my cock sends me into overdrive. All common sense is tossed out the window on Route Sixty-Six.
I have to have her. I need to have her.
“What makes you think I would want you?” Feisty one, she is. “Don’t you have a cougar to tame?”
She’s got jokes now. Well, joke’s on her. The few words we’ve exchanged between us, her breathing has changed, there’s sweat on her brow, and not to mention the way she keeps trying to rub her legs together. I can read her like an open book. The moral to the chapter of this tale…she wants me, too.
A better man would chalk this up to a victory, knowing he’s on his way to winning her over. I’ve never been the better man and don’t plan to start now. I step into her room determined to take full advantage of her deer caught in the headlights stare. Her breathing is hitching with each step until there is no space left between us.
“My life isn’t black and white, baby.
I’ve got tangled into a nasty web, and I’m fighting to get out of it. That’s all I can say.”
“Stop.” Raylan’s bottom lip trembles slightly, but she doesn’t move an inch.
“Stop what, darlin’?” I ask, not breaking eye contact.
“Looking at me like that.”
“Details, darlin’, I need details.” I lean in closer, not adverting eye contact. I’m so close it would take a dart of my tongue to swipe across her lips. One move and I’d be controlling her. I know it. It’s not that I’m that perfect, but we match like motherfucking Ying and Yang.
My little ray of sunshine doesn’t flinch, but she also doesn’t grab for me or seal her lips to mine. “Stop screwing with my head. I have my life figured out and then you had to be there to catch me. You are at bastard status right now. It was a great fall and an amazing laugh like the ones you tell a grand story about to girlfriends in the future. But, oh no, you have to show up again, taunting me with your cougar profession or training. You know what, it doesn’t matter. Memphis or Dr. Love, you are fucking my head up.”
The loose tie of her robe slips. Raylan doesn’t make a move to fix it. The sides of her bare breast come into view. My dick, who enjoyed his joy ride, punches against the material holding him back. I’m not sure if it’s her exposed slice of tits or the blush covering her from the neck up.
“Enlighten me for a second.” I fist her hair while palming a full ass cheek through her robe. “Who were you thinking about when you screamed your praises? Whose face popped up in your mind when you went over that cliff? Tell me that, Raylan and I’ll walk away, yeah.”
The last part comes out as a demand. It’s not just my cock that requires an answer but also my ego. I know it was me who she fantasized about while making her greedy, sweet pussy drip until she fell apart.