A Winter Moon

by S. J. Smith

  He parted the thin folds of her skin and inhaled. "Mine." He dipped his head and easily found her nub.

  "Ahhh…" She gripped his head and moaned his name exactly the way he'd heard in his mind for the last two months. He licked and pulled at the nub, slid his tongue between her skin and pressed his thumbs just above her pubic bone until she writhed and moaned his name in a steady chant.

  "Fucking beautiful," he said against her skin. He lifted one of her legs and placed it over his shoulder, giving him deeper access, and her more intense pleasure.

  She lifted her hips to his mouth. "Jake… so good… you are so… soooo good." She held his head and undulated against his lips.

  "Oh yeah, baby… tell me… tell me more." He pushed his tongue into her weeping opening, making her arch and sigh again.

  "Oooh… Jake. Only you… it's always you."

  He smiled and slid his tongue in and out of her body, building her heat, making her moan and sigh and so fucking wet he started to grind himself on the bed.

  Fuck he couldn’t take much more.

  "Inside me… Jake. I want you inside of me…"

  "Uh-uh." He kept at her with long strokes, tonguing her pussy—his pussy—until he knew she was going crazy.

  "Please… Jake, please…" She started to beg. He slowly slid out his tongue and ran it around her nub before unzipping his pants and pushing his aching length inside her.

  "Oh God yes… ah—ah—ah…" she chanted in long sighs as he began a nice slow fuck. In all the way, with a hard jam at the end. He loved to watch the way her body reacted and shook with every final buck he delivered. He sat back on his haunches and grasped her hips, increasing his pace into a new rhythm.

  "I fuckin' love the way your tits bounce when I fuck you." He crawled over her so her tits rubbed and bounced against his chest.

  Fuck. His dick swelled inside her.

  "Really?"

  He held her face with his hands. "Fucking absolutely. I'd see them in my mind whenever I humped my bed." Did he really just admit that?

  She hung onto his neck and kissed him deep, her tongue going right to his as she lifted her hips and banged him harder. "Talking to me like that… telling me that… you're going to make me… come… Jake, you're making me—"

  "Not yet." He pulled out of her and flipped her over. He dug into his jeans pocket then forced his pants to his knees. He pulled up her hips and pressed his hard length between her ass cheeks as he laid his body over her back. "I've been waiting to feel this. Me between your ass. That beautiful ass squeezing me." He slid himself along her cheeks, pushing and pulling long slides within her crack.

  Ohhh fuck he missed this. Wanted this. Dreamed about fucking this.

  He slid himself back one more time, then slid inside her pussy, deep and to the end so his balls rode against her soft lips. This was what he wanted. This was—fuck. He stretched himself out, knees digging into the mattress, hips snug and intimate on her ass, his chest to her hot skin, his arms along hers, his fingers curling through hers.

  "Say you'll marry me, Marianne." He slid the 2.5 karat, round cut diamond ring onto her finger.

  "Wh—what?" She froze and watched his fingers work the platinum ring onto hers before he slid his hand back to reveal the stunning diamond. He flattened his hand over hers, his fingers through hers. She bucked up against him, but he had her securely trapped down beneath him. He ran his other hand along her side, then pressed them between her body and the bed, and spread his hand over her pussy.

  "Say yes—" he stroked her nub.

  "Oh God, Jake… Jaaake," she moaned and squirmed against his hand, making his balls fill to capacity and his dick swell almost painfully.

  "Feel that baby?" he pressed into her. "You move, I get harder. You want me to fuck you with this?" He curled his fingers around hers, reveling in the feel of his ring on her finger. He used his other hand to stroke at her nub, his thumb to press up into her g-spot.

  She flooded around his dick. "That’s it," he cooed as her pussy quivered and contracted around him. "Say yes and I'll fuck you, stroke you, bring you to such a good fucking end you'll never—"

  "That's… un… fair—Jake!" she panted then squealed when he pressed her nub between two of his fingers.

  He stroked her with his thumb and leaned into her ear. "Don't fucking care what's fair. You are mine. I want you to stay mine. I'll do whatever I have to do to see it done." He circled his hips and ground into her as he spoke.

  "Ahh… Jake…" She wriggled beneath him and moved in the way he guided. She curled her fingers around his every time she pressed down into his hand then up into his hard dick, straining in her attempts to steal her release.

  "Say yes, baby. Say you'll marry me." He bucked his hips into her now in a demanding rhythm, circles that pressed her clit between his fingers until she shivered and pulsed, quivered and built until—

  "Oh God Jake—yes. YES!"

  He smiled as she quaked out of control.

  "I'll marry you. I will. I'm already yours." Her clit pulsed between his fingers, and he kept the pressure on her g-spot until she whined and screamed his name.

  "Fuck. I love the way you shake in my hands." He gripped her shaking fingers around his before he rose to his knees. Taking her with him, he never broke the intimacy of their connection. She still pulsed around him when he pulled her hips back then slammed into her as he'd been waiting to do. She was so hot and wet as she came down from her climax, he started hammering into her like an animal in rut, unable to stop until his balls rose up and unleashed his seed inside her in long thick ropes.

  It had been too long, and the wait too hard, and she had finally said yes. He fell against her, totally replete, his eyes locked on his ring on her finger as he pulsed and jerked inside her body.

  He stayed there for long moments, inhaled huge breaths, as they both panted and came down. He pressed against her to lie down, but kept his length inside, reluctant to withdraw from her heat.

  "Fucking love it here. Don't want to leave here," he whispered the admission against her ear as he massaged the abrasions his pubic hair had made on her skin when he rode her. "You're going to wear more of my marks here."

  She wriggled herself from around him and turned over. "I love your marks." She stretched out beneath him and reached up to his face. He readily went down to her waiting body. He lay half over her with his head on her shoulder, his dick still twitching against her thigh.

  "Oh no you don't," she stroked his back with her soft hand. "We need rest."

  "Gimme five minutes and I'm ready to be inside you again."

  "You're a wild man." She lifted her hand and stared at his ring. "This is… way too beautiful, Jake. My God…" she blinked at it.

  "I wanted it big enough for every man to see and know to back the hell off."

  "Well," she continued to admire it, mesmerized, "mission accomplished." She looked back at him then pressed her soft mouth to his hard lips. "You know you didn't have to torture me to get me to say yes. I've had a lot of time to think since you've been gone, and wouldn't have turned you down again."

  "Fuck that," he deepened the kiss she'd started. "I wasn't going to take the chance." He kissed her hard, again and again.

  "You and me," she sighed, and played with his hair. "We belong together I guess."

  "You bet your sweet ass we do." He reached down and squeezed her butt cheeks.

  "And all this time… apart and wasted. I should have told you, before you left."

  He moved over her and slid his ready length inside her again. "You don't have to tell me anything anymore. Just show me. Show me how much you want to be my wife."

  And she did. Over and over. All night long.

  *****

  Jake buttoned his jeans and pulled open the door to Henry, standing there with paper travel cups of coffee in an Eco Green holder.

  "Thanks." He grabbed one as his brother crossed the threshold. "Any word?" He tasted the steaming liquid. Exactly how he lik
ed it. Super-hot and black. Maybe the little shit wasn't so bad after all.

  "Yeah. About ten minutes ago." Henry dropped the cardboard tray onto the night table and pulled out his own cup. "They'll be here sooner than later. Their president, Jingle, was on his bike, and by the sounds of it had a friggin’ cavalry with him."

  Jake frowned and looked pointedly at Marianne's sleeping form.

  "Sorry." Henry chuckled and slurped his coffee. "Guess you wore her out."

  "Shut the fuck up."

  Henry shrugged. "Sheesh. Here I thought after the marathon I heard you two having last night you'd be all mellow this morning."

  Jake pointed to the door. "I'll be out in five." He set down his coffee and pulled on his t-shirt.

  Henry shuffled back to the door and pulled it open. The roar of motorcycle engines filled the air. He looked back at Jake. "Guess it's sooner."

  Jake grabbed his boots and picked up the back pack. He nudged Henry out the door and closed it quietly. Not that these bikers hadn't just woke up the whole motel with their entrance. It was doubtful Marianne was sleeping through this exchange.

  The bikers cut the engines on their Harleys’ and sat back on their bikes. Clearly the one out front was their president, Jingle. He as all tattoos, both arms and up his neck until they covered most of his bald head. Sunglasses sat on his pock-marked face, and his black goatee was braided. Nice. He was also carrying. At least two weapons. Knife at his hip. Gun in his boot.

  Jake gave the forty-something year old man a chin lift, which was returned.

  "You the one that took out my boys?"

  "Yeah."

  "Prince Charming needed patching up pretty bad."

  Marianne snorted from behind him. "Charming, my ass," she muttered.

  Jake kept his eyes on Jingle. "He had it coming."

  "Uh huh." He took off his sunglasses and narrowed his eyes on Jake. "Military."

  "Navy."

  "Had a feelin'" The president pulled up his shirt to show a large tattoo on his remarkably maintained abs. "So you're my brother."

  Jake pulled up his shirt sleeve to show his own tattoo on his upper right arm. "Looks like."

  Jingle nodded behind Jake. "Sweet pea's your woman?"

  "Off limits."

  He nodded and switched his gaze to Henry. "And you're the little brother."

  Henry just blinked like an owl.

  The president shook his head. "I got a little brother. Biggest pain in my ass." He nodded at the knapsack. "That my money?"

  "Where's my mother?" Henry spoke up.

  Jingle nodded to one of the other bikers, who whistled. A bike started up somewhere in the back of the mob before the sound of hysterical shrieking grew with the roar of the approaching bike.

  A woman got off from behind the biker and strode to the president. "I cannot say this has been pleasant. I am so not sorry to part your company."

  The president lifted the side of his mouth and looked at Henry. "She's a real piece of work."

  Jake tossed the money at Henry before his brother ran over to his mother.

  "Are you okay?" Henry shoved the knapsack at the biker and took his mother's hand.

  "No, I am not okay. Look at me! I just spent the better part of a day on the back of that thing and…"

  "Mom—it's okay—it's okay—" Henry kept repeating as he led her into his room and closed the door.

  The biker unzipped the bag then nodded at his president.

  Jingle nodded at Jake then lifted a hand and made a circle in the air with his finger. They started up their bikes and circled out of the lot. In a roar of engines, they were gone.

  Jake turned to Marianne, who watched the bikers round the corner and pull onto the highway. She pursed her lips and looked at him. "I could have done that you know." She turned and went back inside the room.

  Jake just shook his head and followed.

  THE END

  Bonus Story 33 of 40

  His Lucky Charm

  It’s too early for this. That’s all I can think as I stand at the tiny window of the mobile breakfast taco truck where I’ve worked for the past two years.

  It’s not a bad job, really. My boss, Gabe, is really flexible when it comes to my hours. With a full schedule at college, that’s important.

  And to tell the truth, I like cooking breakfast tacos. Always have. Ever since I was a little girl peeking over my mom’s kitchen counter in San Antonio, Texas, I’ve been fascinated by the foods she made.

  When I close my eyes, the scent of freshly cooked chorizo and eggs fills my nostrils and reminds me of home. When we’re busy, the sounds of people laughing, talking, and ordering all at once reminds me of home too.

  I grew up with three brothers and numerous cousins. Our house was always filled to the brim. Especially on Saturday mornings.

  That’s what’s different about working the truck. Early Saturday morning is our slowest time.

  It's seven thirty in the morning. I’ve made the chorizo, the eggs, and the beans for tacos. The tortillas are packed and ready to be heated. But there’s not a soul in sight.

  When I peer out the window of our truck and look around, I see nothing but other food trucks dark and boarded up. None of the other trucks in the center open half as early as we do on Saturdays. Not even the ones that serve breakfast food.

  Everyone knows that normal people go out on Friday nights. Therefore, it follows, that normal people would stay in bed on Saturday morning. No one’s going to be out looking for breakfast tacos at seven thirty.

  I’ve tried to tell Gabe that. I don’t know how many times I’ve suggested opening just a couple hours later on Saturdays. The way the other food trucks do.

  “We’ve got to stay consistent, Gloria,” he always tells me. “It’s what our customers like about us.”

  It’s easy for him to say, I think bitterly. He doesn’t have to get up at six in the morning.

  Gabe comes to work at nine am on Saturdays. Even though he doesn’t want to change our hours, he realizes that Saturdays are too slow for two people to open.

  So, that leaves me here all on my own.

  I stand for a few more minutes carrying the hope that someone, anyone, might pass by and have a desperate urge to indulge in a breakfast taco.

  When that hope proves to be futile, I grab the chair next to the grill, pull it up and sit down. If I’m going to be bored to tears, I may as well be comfortable.

  As the sun rises over the trees to the east, several food truck owners arrive to begin preparing their stations.

  Some give me cheery waves as they pass. I return some friendly calls of ‘good morning’ and smile at the sympathetic grimaces thrown my way.

  Most of them have been around long enough to know how Gabe works. And I know all of them think he’s as crazy as I do for opening up before nine am.

  By eight o’clock, a few voices have thankfully begun to fill the air. Chefs have started barking instructions to their staff members. Sous chefs have started moving product into trucks to prep for the morning.

  It’s better than silence. But, still, not quite as nice as a busy morning when there are shouts and orders, and I’m moving so fast that I don’t have time to think.

  I chance one more hopeful glance towards the east end of the little side park. I suddenly see a figure began to walk towards the food truck space from the park entrance.

  It’s not a truck owner or chef. All of us use the west entrance. It’s easier to get in and out of. Only a customer would come from the east.

  Setting the chair aside, I stand up at my station probably more excited than I should be. I can’t help it. We never have customers this early. Not on Saturdays anyway.

  The figure makes his way closer and, when I see his features, my breath catches in my chest. It's not...it can’t be….

  I blink twice to be sure of what I’m seeing. I want to know it’s not some kind of illusion or mirage. His continued saunter towards my truck proves without a doubt that t
his is real.

  David Gutierrez is going to order tacos from me.

  David Gutierrez is the newest player for the Baseball team, The Texas Rangers. Now, I’m not usually into baseball. It moves too slow for me and I’ve always been one for fast-moving action. That’s why basketball and soccer are my preferred sports.

  But, I have to admit, when David Gutierrez was drafted to play for the Rangers, I began to take an interest. And it wasn’t just because he was young and good looking.

  Well, maybe it was at first. That tan skin combined with dark, longish hair that falls into his bright green eyes does still make me swoon. But, what really caught my interest was his first interview.

  I was visiting my parents in San Antonio. Dad was watching sports center and there he was. He seemed awkward in front of the camera. Soft-spoken, almost shy. He was so far removed from most sports stars who were all bravado and confidence, that I couldn’t help but be fascinated.

  Since then, I'd decided to follow the Texas Rangers. I know they have their first game of the season this evening. I also know that there’s a huge amount of pressure being placed on David Gutierrez. They’re calling him the golden boy. Saying he’s going to revitalize the team.

  That’s the other reason I’m surprised to see him here. I would expect him to be practicing or working out. He should at least be somewhere closer to the stadium in Arlington.

  But, instead, he’s here. At a park in the middle of Dallas walking up to my take out window.

  “Hi,” he says when he reaches me. He flashes me a bright, white smile that makes me clear my throat.

  “Hi,” I return. “How can I help you?”

  “I wanted to order two dozen chorizo tacos to go,” he says. My eyes widen unintentionally. Two dozen! That’s one of the biggest orders we’ve had at one time.

  “Is that a problem?” he asks. His smile has disappeared to be replaced by a worried frown. It’s only then that I realize I’ve taken much too long to answer.