Nice Girls, Naughty Sex

by Jordan LaRousse

  “Or we could think of something else to do with our time.”

  “We could,” I whispered.

  “Are you hot?”

  “Sweltering.”

  “Let’s see if we can do something about that.”

  His thick fingers were back on my blouse, finding their way to the pearl buttons. My eyes held his as one button opened, followed by another. I couldn’t believe I was in my car with a total stranger, letting him undo my buttons. I was the responsible one, staying late at work when asked, doing the right thing. Maybe the heat had gotten to my head.

  He pushed the silk open, exposing my skin. It felt delicious, transformative. Cool air came from his mouth, blowing against my neck. I shivered. Goose bumps rose, but whether they were inspired by the sudden breeze or by his fingers opening the last of the buttons, I couldn’t say. I was staring at his mouth, the thick bottom lip begging to be licked and bitten.

  I leaned forward, and our lips touched, barely glancing off each other before he pulled back. Trying again, I leaned in closer, halfway into the passenger’s seat. But he moved his head, blew against my ear, then brushed his mouth over my cheek, making me pant with anticipation.

  Just when I thought it couldn’t get any hotter, his mouth dropped to my neck. His lips took a deep, sucking pull on my skin, no doubt leaving behind a red mark. I moaned into the quiet, wrapping my hands around his damp shoulders. Then, he assaulted my mouth, our tongues finally meeting in a swirling dance. I heard his hands moving around, fumbling in the dark near the door handle, pulling the latch. Turning from me, he stepped out of the car.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I think we need a little more room, don’t you?”

  I watched with a pounding heart as he opened the back door of the car and slid inside, relaxing back into the spacious seat. He patted the leather next to him, a silent invitation. Lately, the only action the back seat of my Volvo had seen was hauling work to and from home. Without a sensible thought in my head, I got out of the car.

  The sea breeze hit me in the face, the salt smell hanging heavy in the air. No number of deep breaths could calm me. I put a trembling hand to my chest, realizing my shirt was still open. I snuck a glance at the cars around us, wondering if anyone could tell what was going on, if anyone knew what was about to happen in my car. The bridge was so dark, I felt like we were in our own little world.

  I slid into the back seat, easing the silk blouse from my arms. I tossed it into the front as I shut the door behind me.

  He grabbed me like he hadn’t touched anyone in months, his mouth searching out every inch of my neck and chest. My fingers got busy on his shirt, sending it up front with mine. His chest was hot to the touch; the light smattering of hair was matted against his sweaty skin. I couldn’t resist a taste, and I slid my tongue along the rigid line of his collarbone. He opened his own pants, pushing them down just low enough to free his straining cock. Before I could even think of touching it, he took my hand and wrapped my fist around it, slowly moving my fingers up and down. I couldn’t see it, but his cock felt thick and superbly hard. Heat was emanating from the slightly curved stalk.

  His free hand scooped the fabric of my skirt up above my hips. His mouth scorched my ear, his breath and tongue working in tandem. But it was his words that damn near set me off.

  “Tell me, is your pussy as hot as the rest of you?”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” I choked the words out, thrusting my hips upward just a little. My panties were breached, the pads of his fingers finding my hot cunt. His callused fingers rubbed against my clit before he pulled my leg over his, spreading my thighs wide open. I held his wrist as he slid a finger inside me, and I cried out into the warm, dark night.

  He purred in my ear, “It’s pretty hot, but I’m sure we can make it hotter.”

  His other hand flicked the front clasp of my bra open, and he trapped my nipple in the inferno of his mouth. My back arched from the leather seat; my whole body seemed to rise up on a wave of shocking pleasure. I could hear his muffled moans as I jerked him, twisting my hand around the swollen, flared head. He sucked my nipple between his teeth, lightly scraping over the bud. He thrust two fingers inside my pussy, his thumb pressing and rubbing against my hard clit. My head fell back, my eyes closed to the rest of the bridge, my mind shut off to the fact that this was all happening a few feet away from dozens of unsuspecting people. I could barely remember why I was on the bridge, the beach a distant thought, replaced totally by the man coaxing my body into a frenzy.

  His head rose, our eyes locking for the first time since we’d made it to the back seat. I lingered on his face for a moment before letting my eyes drop to the dick in my hand. I had to taste it, my formerly dry mouth now salivating at the thought. I leaned over, forcing his hand from my panties, until my mouth hovered right above his cock. He was musky, and pungent, and when my lips closed around him, he tasted of salt. His hands found a new home in my hair, pushing and pulling me as I sucked, hungrily lapping at his weeping slit.

  My whole body was buzzing with the need for him to fuck me. The pulsing throb of desire pounded at the base of my spine and radiated all through me. I wanted to keep the feeling forever, to bottle it up and take it with me everywhere I went. At that moment, in the dark, in my car with a complete stranger, I just had to come.

  Reluctantly pulling him from my mouth, I brought my face right to his. Our breath mingled, both of us panting, unable to stop touching each other.

  “Fuck me. God, I need you to fuck me right now.”

  I sat up, shucking off my skirt and soaked-through panties. He fumbled around in his pocket, finding the condom we needed before sliding his pants down to his ankles. He was sheathed in seconds, and I climbed onto him. There was no time for teasing or a slow buildup. I just sank downward, and his cock slid into my molten pussy. His hands held my hips, and he thrust up as I rode down against him. Twin bursts of flame exploded behind my eyes, my hands working my own nipples as I moved faster and faster.

  “Jesus, you’re fucking tight. So fucking hot and tight.”

  I heard engines igniting all around us. Light came streaming through the back window, but we couldn’t have stopped for anything. Right then, I didn’t care if every car started moving without us. Our mouths met, and I finally got the chance to nibble on that sweet bottom lip. We were groaning in unison, grinding our hips together each time he filled me. I slowed down just a bit, savoring the slow pull of his cock on my pussy lips. God, he felt so damn good. He reached between us and thumbed over my clit, and I was lost. My pussy clenched, my fingers digging into the strong muscles of his shoulders. My thighs started to shake; a burst of fresh moisture erupted between my legs. If I wasn’t dying from the heat before, I was now.

  “Fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, god, yes.”

  I never spoke during sex, let alone when I came. But here in this car with this complete stranger, I couldn’t help myself. More words, filthy words, were falling from my mouth with each plunge of his cock. My orgasm stretched on and on, one following another. I kept moving, as if on autopilot, seeking out every last sensation. His deep, shuddering groan forced my eyes open, his own orgasm finally joining mine. I slumped backward, but his arms pulled me close, and he nuzzled his face into my neck. Once again, I tasted his salty chest with my tongue, trying to memorize his flavor.

  I wanted to stay in the blissed-out state forever, hunker down in the hazy joy of the moment for as long as possible, but the cars had sprung to life all around us, taillights aglow, engines rumbling. Impatient and weary travelers were ready to finally get moving. Which meant we had to move too.

  We parted, retrieving clothing and possessions as quickly as we could. Soon, we were standing on the road, looking out into the water. He walked to the edge, tossing the condom over the side of the bridge. I thought that would be it, our moment over as easily as it started. But he grabbed me and kissed me deeply as we stood in the dark, the heat seeming
a lot less oppressive. He backed away slowly before returning to his Camaro.

  With a quick wave, he got into his car. I slipped into my seat, clicking my seat belt closed with a sigh. I could still smell him all around me, taste him in my mouth. The cars in front of us began to inch forward, progress starting slow and steady. Soon enough, we were flying along, my windows closed and my air conditioner back on. With one last glance, I looked to my right, to the blue Camaro, those eyes finding me in the dark. A smile passed between us before he took off, his car disappearing into the night. I looked down at the nearly full water bottle and reached out to take a sip. It tasted disappointingly bland.

  I needed something more flavorful and forbidden . . . something saltier. I still needed that margarita.

  A WELCOME THREAT

  Venerato Petronius

  “ . . . And that, my dear, is one of the many ways times have changed. Back then—I mean, unless we vandalized—the worst thing the cops would do was take us to the station, call our parents, and laugh about the whole thing. Today, if a teenage boy were to be caught with a girl out here, he’d be cuffed and thrown into a holding cell, and the girl’s parents might try to prosecute for endangerment or kidnapping,” Jack says without the least trace of irony.

  I glance over the dashboard at the rows of empty houses in the subdivision, trying to imagine what this place looked like twenty years ago.

  “So, how did you find this place?”

  Jack cocks his head to the side and grimaces. I can tell that he feels weird about being here, which is amusing to me.

  “I don’t know. You know how teenagers are. We had to find places to go drink and fuck around. But these houses weren’t here when I was seventeen. It was just a big field.”

  I lean toward him and smile. I know how much he hates talking about himself. But sometimes a girl’s just gotta know things.

  “Yeah, but how did you find it? Twenty years later, and it’s still out in the middle of nowhere.”

  He takes a deep breath.

  “Eva, you love this shit, don’t you? You like making me squirm.”

  I do like making him squirm.

  “Get out of my head, you jerk, and answer my question.”

  Jack turns toward me and takes my hands. He gives me a loving kiss on the forehead and looks into my eyes. Many times, I feel lost in him when he looks at me this way. But not right now. He’s trying to love-gaze his way out of this.

  “Not working, Jack. Answer my question.”

  He laughs.

  “I don’t remember, Eva. It was a long fucking time ago.”

  “Yeah, but this is the first place you had sex. Isn’t something special like that going to. . . ?”

  He stops me.

  “It’s not always like that for guys.”

  I look at him, incredulous.

  “Seriously,” he says.

  “We should get out of the car and walk around. See if that jogs your memory.”

  He looks even more uncomfortable. “Come on, now,” he says.

  “Don’t be such a bitch,” I say to him, taunting. “I’ve got my knife with me; I’ll protect you.”

  “Oh, I forgot. I’ve got the redneck avenger girl with me.”

  “Screw you; I’m not a redneck.”

  “You were born in the South,” he says.

  “While Miami may technically be in the South,” I say, making air quotes, “it’s not Southern at all.”

  He laughs again and shakes his head.

  “You really want to walk around in an abandoned neighborhood? You’re not worried about squatters or. . . ?”

  “No, I’m not worried.”

  He pops the locks to the car.

  “All right then, let’s go for a walk.”

  There’s something about this place—the identical houses, all so close to each other, the overgrown lawns, the darkness. The sounds of the crickets are rhythmic, and I feel like they could hypnotize me. To say it’s surreal would be cliché (and a bit of an overstatement), but that’s as good a word as any. I let the houses dissolve into the background, and look at the long grass and trees. The warm breeze moves the grass and leaves in unison. Everything is colorless in the moonlight. And that’s another thing—there’s not a working streetlamp to be found. That crazy blue-gray on everything must be how Jack remembers it, before it was developed here. Jack’s eyes dart around, looking in every empty, unlit window. He sees every shadow as a threat. I see them as opportunities.

  “ . . . It was all such a blur,” Jack says, his arm around me. “Everything we did, we did under the threat of potential discovery. I remember, one time my girlfriend thought she was being sexy, tried to give me a handjob under the table at dinner. I was furious.”

  I laugh. “Seriously, you weren’t turned on at all?”

  “Dude, it was a round table; I was sitting right next to my mom. It was so not subtle.”

  I laugh again, harder.

  “But you know how young boys are,” he says. “To say I wasn’t turned on would be a lie. I mean, all I could think about was having her. She owned me.”

  “She owned you, huh?”

  He nods.

  “So, tell me about when you came out here.”

  “You are one fucked-up chick, Eva. No other girl wants to hear about her man’s past sexual experiences.”

  Oh, my dearest Jack. The more you struggle, the more I laugh.

  “This is different,” I say. “It was your first time. I don’t want to hear about the cooze that you banged on bowling night after drinking. I want to hear about the day you became a man.”

  “When did I bang some cooze on bowling night?”

  I smirk.

  “Oh yeah, that was you, wasn’t it,” he says.

  “Stop dodging me, Jack. I wanna know.”

  He smiles and pulls me close.

  “It was winter . . . ”

  Finally, I’ve got him.

  “December, I think. Her name was Kathy,” he says.

  “With a K or with a C? ”

  “With a K.”

  “Good, with a K is much sexier.”

  He pauses.

  “Go on,” I say, continuing to find pleasure in his discomfort.

  “We had just spent the night out at The Billiard Club. That was the big hangout around here for teenagers.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “We smuggled a bottle of Beam out from her dad’s liquor cabinet and needed a place to drink it. Her folks and mine were both at home, so the safe option wasn’t available. I’d never told her about this place, always used to hang with the boys out here. When I mentioned it, she was kind of freaked out.”

  “What does ‘kind of freaked out’ mean?”

  “It means that she thought it was really odd that a bunch of guys would go out to the woods together. I believe she said it was ‘gay.’”

  “Well, when you put it like that.”

  He stops.

  “Do you want to hear this story or not?”

  I kiss him.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then fine,” he says, pouting. “Anyway, she agreed to come out here with me.”

  He pauses for a few seconds.

  “Actually, she was a lot like you are.”

  “How so?”

  “She was mischievous. She liked doing things that could get her in trouble.”

  I take the compliment.

  “We drove the thirty minutes to get out here,” he says. “And while it feels like we’re out in B.F.E. now, back then, coming here was like traveling to another planet.”

  Some bats swoop by, briefly interrupting Jack and the crickets.

  “Like I said, there were no houses then. Nothing but an open field. There was a service road that led to the center . . . right about over there,” he points. “ . . . starting about the same place where we just parked. We drove into the weeds and proceeded to do what teenagers do.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He sighs.
/>   “We never cracked open that bottle of Beam.”

  “Go on,” I say.

  “We were talking the whole way here about . . . blowjobs while driving.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Kathy was a very forward young lady.”

  “I like her.”

  He laughs.

  “I had the worst teen hard-on the whole way. I tried like hell to hide it, but it was obvious . . . and painful. I was praying to Christ that she would lean over, unbuckle my seat belt, and put her hot little mouth on me.”

  “I’ll have to remember that you like that sort of thing.”

  He ignores me.

  “So, when we parked, I was scheming. Scheming in the way horny little teenage boys do. I was planning my words, planning the drinks, planning how I’d let my hand find its way up her blouse.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  “When I turned the engine off, things went sideways . . . in a good way.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “She said something like, ‘We’ve been together a whole month now,’” Jack says, trying to imitate a young girl’s voice.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “No, really. She was like, ‘We’ve been together a month, and I want to do something special for you. Get in the back seat.’”

  “How old was she?”

  “She was sixteen.”

  “Precocious. Now I really like her.”

  He smiles and laughs.

  “So, I got in the back seat, just as I was told. And I was . . . excited.”

  I like where this is going.

  “What did she do?”

  “She was well ahead of her years, in many ways.”

  “Go on.”

  “She started kissing me, very softly. She was letting her fingers glide along my neck, from behind my ears down to my chest. Her touch was so light, every hair stood up, and I distinctly remember shuddering. She let those hands drift further and further, eventually rubbing me through my jeans. I’d never had another person’s hands on me before; the sensations were dumbfounding.”

  “What happened to your schemes? Your little plans?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I was paralyzed.”