Big Book of Smut (7 page)

The interior of the car was cramped, otherwise I would have leaned over and sucked his cock to keep him wanting. Instead, I just kept stroking and hoping like hell he knew where he was going and had plans to get there fast. The soft green glow of the dashboard lights offered just enough illumination for me to watch his facial expressions, the excitement in his eyes growing, his mouth pinching tight than gasping wide open as he delighted in the constant pull and tug of my hand.

"Oh yeah," he muttered. "Stroke it fast. Stroke me hard."

Even with his zipper all the way down it was difficult to access his full length, which excited me more than mere words could ever express. He was definitely proportionate for a man as tall as he was. The crotch of my underwear was damp and sticky with need, and if he didn't pull over soon and fuck me, I was going to lose my mind.

His own need must have been more than he could take because when we were miles from what felt like civilization on some dusty dirt road, he jammed on the brakes and parked beside an old cemetery underneath a canopy of leafless trees. He didn't even bother zipping up his pants as he scrambled to get out of the car, and when I met him at the front bumper he gripped the back of my neck and swept me into a hungry, powerful kiss.

Soft, wet, warm… His tongue glided and stiffened against mine in a ritualistic dance so primal only animals could understand. His arms tightened against my back, long fingers sliding down my ass as he reached to grip the hem of my skirt. He hiked it up with an almost violent jerk and then nestled his forearms beneath my ass cheeks to lift me against his groin. Even through my panties, I could feel his stiff cock rising to meet me, pleading to tear beyond the thin, moist layer of cotton separating our bodies.

He laid me back against the hood of the car, hot metal warming my skin against the chill of the night air, and then he positioned himself between my legs. Eager fingers wrapped beneath the elastic at the sides of my panties and in one swift pull, he brought them down to my knees and slid one leg out, leaving them dangling on my ankle. Lifting my legs up around his hips, he hiked me across the hood and then bore down on me so hard I felt the air rush from my lungs in an almost painful gasp.

Probing the bulging head of his cock around my slippery hole, I inched closer, softly pleading, "Fuck me."

"Yeah," he growled, stuffing himself through my layers and into the soft folds of my hungry, dripping pussy. "Yeah, you're so wet." Grinding down hard, he stretched me wide open as he sheathed his massive cock balls-deep inside me.

I cried out in bliss, lifting my hips up to take him in as deep as he could go. God, he felt amazing, sliding in and pulling out, his heavy balls slapping just above my ass with every eager thrust. I was dripping, my juices coating his sack and splashing in cold drops against my skin each time he battered into me.

All of the fear and anxiety that had built up over the last few months was suddenly gone, and for that fleeting moment I felt alive again. Bucking up to meet his thrusts, I was myself again, the woman I had always been, that deep inside I knew I always wanted to be. In that moment I didn't care if what I was wrong, if I was breaking my promise to my husband, forsaking everything I'd sworn to try in order to save our marriage. That stranger's dick felt so good inside me, stroking through my tightly squeezed muscles, and if he could just pick up the pace and fuck me a little faster, it wouldn't take me long at all to get off.

"Fuck me harder," I pleaded. "Faster."

He drew back fast and hammered down hard, my ass bouncing off the hood of his car with the force of his every push. Underneath my blouse I could feel my nipples hardening on account of the cold and the thrill of what I was doing. I knew nothing about this man, not even his name. He could have been some psycho serial killer for all I knew, but that only seemed to thrill me even more.

"You like that, you dirty little whore?" he grunted, pounding down deep and thrusting upward before drawing his hips back and punching in again. "You like to get fucked."

"I love to get fucked!" I cried.

His chest crushed down on mine and the sandpaper scrape of his chin against my cheek sent shuddering chills through my body. "I'm gonna fuck your ass until you scream."

"Yes! Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass hard."

He slid out of me and grabbed me by the shirt, maneuvering me in a quick, violent turn so I was face down on the hood of the car. He hiked my ass up higher and as soon as I felt the curious poke of his head edging toward my asshole, I clenched in eager anticipation. He was dripping wet with my juices, but he still spit onto his fingers and smeared them around my hole for extra lubrication. It had been ages since I'd had my ass reamed, and once he began pushing his way into that tight cavern, my strangled cries of excitement caught in my throat.

He worked in slow, each tiny push increasing my bliss. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd had a cock that huge in my ass, but it felt good. Easing every stroke through until I loosened up enough for him to really fuck me, I gripped the hood just under the windshield wipers and held on tight while he piston-hammered in and out. Cheek pressed against the cold metal, frigid air rushed against my skin, but neither of them was enough to cool the fire burning inside me. Every time he was full-hilt, he groaned as I bounced my cheeks hard into his hips, and then drew back again for another grand slam.

I didn't think about the sex addicts group, or my promise to try to work through whatever sexual issues I obviously had, but I did think about my husband. Fleeting flashes of his sad brown eyes surfaced in my mind, spurring on soft pulses of guilt that should have stopped me. Instead, they only seemed to excite me more, as if knowing what I was getting away with was almost enough in itself to make me cum.

Reaching his hand around my hip, his long fingers began to skillfully tickle and stroke my clit. I bucked under his teasing, the overwhelming exciting building in my stomach and promises to explode like Fourth of July fireworks through my entire body.

"Right there," I pleaded. "Oh yeah, right there."

Diving fingers rivaled the punching strokes of his dick in my ass and his brushing thumb danced deliciously across my swollen clit. When the hot waves of rippling release began to tremble through me, he picked up his pace, driving home every orgasm with jackhammer power and precision.

"I'm cumming," he told me, his body growing stiff with the onset of release. In tiny, jerking spasms, he pulled out of my ass and drew his hand around to stroke himself until a hot, gushing flood of cum spurted from his swollen, purple head. He painted my bare ass and thighs with his seed, jerking and slapping himself until the last long jet of cum sprayed onto my skin.

For a moment he just stood behind me catching his breath, his spent cock still half-hard in his hand. I laid there on the hood, enjoying the slow chills of receding pleasure as they danced against my skin. Soon, the guilt would come, but for the moment I felt incredible. So alive, a slow-burning brush fire on the cusp of flickering out, but for the moment all that mattered was that fire.

I was never going to get over whatever it was the drove me to do the things I did, not when the feeling was that intense. Not when the mere thought of some stranger's hands all over my body sent me into near orgasm.

We drove back to the parking lot in silence, and while I ticked through my own tape of guilt, I only wondered for a fleeting second what he was thinking about. Did he have a wife at home who would never understand what he had done, or the need that forced him to seek out the touch of someone, anyone looking to get off? I didn't thank him or say goodnight as I stepped out of his car and glanced around the parking lot. There was only one car besides my own, and for a moment I was relieved that it wasn't my husband come to find out what was taking me so long to get home.

He pulled away almost as soon as I'd shut the door, and I walked on shaking legs toward my waiting car. I heard the metallic clang of a door banging shut and glanced up across the street just in time to see someone coming out of the community building. Frank Harding met my gaze, and for a fleeting second I swore he knew. Before he could stalk across the parking lot with a full-helping of judgment, I ducked into my car, started it and sped out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

The dashboard clock blared ten o'clock and my imagination was suddenly teaming with fear that Kenny was at home pacing the floors and tallying up every wrong I'd ever done so he could toss it in my face the minute I walked through the door.

But when I ducked quietly into the house, I saw him snoozing on the couch, the quiet television playing some documentary. He barely lifted his head to smile at me, gesturing with one hand to our sleeping two-year-old son on his chest.

"A little help, maybe?"

I nodded and tip-toed into the living room, scooping up the baby and hugging him to my chest as I carried him back the hallway and put him into his crib. After laying a kiss on his forehead, I tucked the blanket in around him and walked slowly out to face the music that surely awaited me. I lingered at the end of the hallway, not wanting to get too close for fear he'd smell my sin.

"How'd it go?" he raised a hopeful eyebrow, those brown eyes I'd imagined judging me soft with loving concern.

I didn't deserve him, and I knew it, but I couldn't let go. I couldn't be without him. "It went okay," I said, nodding slowly. "It was a little weird, I guess… but it was okay."

"Yeah?"

I nodded again. "Yeah."

"So, you think you'll go back?"

I thought about Frank Harding, not sure I could face a veteran abstainer knowing that he knew what I'd done, but Kenny looked so gentle, so filled with hope that the least I could for the moment was lie. I'd figure it all out in the shower, or in the morning after I'd had a chance to sleep on it.

"Sure," I said. "I'll go back."

"Good." He almost seemed relieved, as if he'd expected the worst. If he only knew, I thought…

"I'm gonna go take a shower," I told him. "That place felt so dirty."

"Okay." He smiled, actually smiled, and the guilt I wouldn't let myself feel while I was getting ass-fucked on the hood of the car came rushing through me.

But just like that I walked away. Locked behind the safety of the bathroom door, I stripped out of my clothes and for a moment I thought about burning them. I knew it wouldn't make a difference. It wouldn't burn away what I had done.

As I ducked beneath the steaming hot beads, I rested my face against the tiled wall of the shower and let my sins wash down the drain. I didn't know if I could really go back to that place, face those people or even potentially run into the stranger I'd had sex with less than half an hour earlier.

I had a lot to think about, a lot to process, and most of it had to do with how much of myself I was willing to give up for the sake of recovery.

I’m leaving for college in two days. Half way across the country, I’ll be partying it up with
college
guys. Guys who don’t know me as Tony’s kid sister and totally off limits.

Guys who may actually want to fuck me.

Then again, the boys in this back woods town probably want me, they just don’t want a beating from my brother.

But damn. All of my other friends have done it. And even if they hated it the first time, they said it totally got better. Like, a lot.

Hell, Amber and Jenny even told me that one of my Dad’s friends took care of their virginity for them and he was
awesome
in bed.

He’s, like, the town deflower-er or something.

And, I figure he could hold his own against Tony if my brother ever found out.

So, yeah.

I’m standing outside his house, peering through the window in the back door and trying to see through the darkness. I already snagged the key from the hide-a-key shaped like a rock. Now, the only thing holding me back is nerves.

I’m going to have sex with Mr. Walker.

As soon as I work up the nerve to break-ish into his house.

The lights downstairs are all out, like he’s headed to bed already, but my friends said he usually takes a shower at nine. I glance at my watch and see that it’s quarter till and I’m hoping he’s already naked. It’ll make the whole seduction thing a lot easier. Either he gets hard at the sight of me, or he doesn’t. It’s a pretty straightforward way to see if he’s interested.

I slide the key into the lock and twist, breathe a sigh of relief when it opens for me. I tip-toe inside and push the door closed with a soft click, careful not to make too much noise. A quick flick of the deadbolt and it’s locked again, keeping everyone else out.

All right. I can do this.

I can hear the soft thump of someone upstairs walking around and I figure I ought to hurry. It’s been a while since I’ve been in Mr. Walker’s house since he usually visits ours, but I know the stairs are toward the front so I head that way, quiet as a mouse.

In moments I’m climbing the carpeted stairs, light on my feet while I work my way toward his room. The steps open up to a hallway and I head toward the door that’s spilling light into the darkness.