How Hard Can It Be? (19 page)
Chapter 20
P
irate Dave had been friends with Hairy Sam forever. Literally. Sam’s stench made Dave smell like a flower. Sam was covered in hair from head to toe, hence the name. He’d tried shaving and waxing and electrolysis, but to no avail. He’d even tried burning it off. That had certainly been a bad fucking idea. The hair grew back within minutes, thicker and coarser than before.
irate Dave had been friends with Hairy Sam forever. Literally. Sam’s stench made Dave smell like a flower. Sam was covered in hair from head to toe, hence the name. He’d tried shaving and waxing and electrolysis, but to no avail. He’d even tried burning it off. That had certainly been a bad fucking idea. The hair grew back within minutes, thicker and coarser than before.
The pungent gentlemen enjoyed the game called Fucking with the Future. It was a highlight in both of their immortal lives. Between ravaging large-breasted virgins who pretended they were appalled by sex, stealing treasures, and eating box after box of Shaft Macaroni and Cheese, they enjoyed traveling to the future and messing with undereducated Americans’ heads. Especially ones who were married to other family members.
Pirate Dave and Hairy Sam found it amusing to time-travel to the Pacific Northwest or the deep South anywhere between the 1960s and the early 2000s to perpetuate the Bigfoot myth. It wasn’t exactly a myth, for Hairy Sam’s feet were huge. His shoes were a size twenty-four, matching his doinker to the inch.
Often times Hairy Sam tried to get laid, but usually ended up masturbating in the corner of freaked-out women’s bedrooms. Pirate Dave thought this was hilarious. Sam hadn’t gotten any in over two hundred years.
Because of Hairy Sam’s ridiculously oversized man tool and his vomit-inducing aroma, he had a difficult time with the ladies. But that was about to change . . . for the secret admirer of Pirate Dave was due to arrive and her lady bits were not what they used to be. A hideous bout with childbearing had ended her former career as a hooker. She could fit an entire football team in her hoo-ha and that pissed her off.
“Jesus Christ in a miniskirt. Where did that come from?” LeHump choked on her coffee as I ended the scene.
“Aunt Phyllis and I went to a Bigfoot meeting last night.” I grinned as Cecil blanched.
“Um, Rena”—he was having a hard time finding his voice—“does this have anything to do with the rest of the story?”
“For a Wednesday morning at eight-thirty, I think I’m doing pretty good,” I huffed, grabbing a doughnut and plopping down on the ugly couch. “Besides, I’m going somewhere with it . . . I think.”
“Cecil,” Shoshanna challenged, “if you have a bone to pick with Rena’s muse, I suggest you take a shot.”
“Yeah, Cecil, you have a go at it,” I giggled, imagining what he could possibly come up with.
“Fine,” he said with all the dignity he could muster. “I will.”
I pulled my feet up on the couch, grabbed another doughnut, got comfortable, and waited . . .
He cleared his throat, straightened his suit jacket, and then cleared his throat again. And again . . . and again.
“Today, Cecil,” I laughed, enjoying his embarrassment. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. Coming up with horrific material took some talent and some serious lack of inhibition. Not to mention some brain damage.
The ashes on the deck of the ship were gray mixed with flecks of turquoise, small pieces of skin, shards of brittle bone, and dyed blond hair. The gentle breeze off the crystal blue ocean tossed the gruesome pile about, scaring years off the lives off the deckhands.
“What the fuck is that?” Pirate Dave hissed, angry to be woken from his sixth morning nap.
“We don’t know,” Captain Crunchy, clutching his blow-up doll Susan to his sunken chest, stammered uneasily.
“It’s black magic voodoo shit,” Mr. Smee cried out, brandishing a knife and backing away from the pile that seemed to be coming to life.
A whirlwind formed the cinders into a small funnel, eliciting a gasp of shocked dismay from Pirate Dave and his below-average crew. Cackling shrieks came from within the funnel of ash. The men paled and backed away, but not Pirate Dave.
“What in the hell are you?” he bellowed at the cloud of ash.
“Your secret admirer,” the hideous sight hissed.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Pirate Dave moaned. He’d been hoping for a hot chick with two vaginas. Clearly he’d fucked a lot of people over through the years to deserve an admirer like this.
An arm emerged from the ash, covered in age spots and sporting long hot pink nails. Then a skinny leg revealed itself, followed by a bony ass, followed by the other skinny leg and the other liver-freckled arm.
“Get thee from my ship, you ugly Devil,” Pirate Dave screamed. If the rest of her was as awful as what he’d seen so far, he was afraid he’d lose his lunch from Jack’s Ass-Smack Burgers. It was wonderful going down, but not so good when it came back up.
The funnel howled with an eerie laughter. The largest rock-hard bosom Dave had ever laid his eyes on emerged from the funnel. “Holy shit,” he muttered, “I like tits, but those are disgusting.”
The knockers were followed by a shriveled neck and the most revolting face he’d seen in his very long lifetime.
The crew gasped and hid their faces from the grotesque sight.
“Hello, Pirate Gabe, did you . . .”
“My name is Dave,” he interrupted, hoping against hope that she had shown up on the wrong ship.
“That’s what I said, Steve,” she jeered.
“Dave,” he corrected.
“What?” she shrieked.
“I said that my name is . . . ” he decided to give up. Clearly she was old and senile.
“So anyway, Javier, did you enjoy the hat full of assholes?” she leered suggestively.
Pirate Dave threw up in his mouth and tried to run away, but his girth prohibited him from getting very far.
The horrifying bag of bones grabbed him by the testicles and squeezed. Hard. Dave liked it rough, but this was too much even for him. “You’re mine now,” she ground out between clenched false teeth. “Until I get what I want, I own you.”
“Oh fuck,” Pirate Dave groaned. The pain from her sadistic ball handling was making him dizzy. He accidentally on purpose projectile-vomited all over her and collapsed into a heap at her feet.
I never knew what thick silence felt like until now. I was living a cliché. The cat had my tongue and you could hear a pin drop. Cecil had some real issues with Evangeline and he’d decided to take them out on her in the book . . . This was fucking great.
“Holy shit on a stick,” Shoshanna shouted. “That’s some of the best stuff yet. You should be a real writer, Cecil.” She got up and slapped him on the back. If she only knew the truth. This was Cecil’s chance to come clean. I waited to see what he would do . . . he did nothing. “I mean it, you sneaky son of a bitch.” LeHump bounced around the room. “You’re really good.”
“The framework had already been expertly laid.” He winked at me and grinned sheepishly. “Is it too much?”
“Do you think she’ll actually read it?” I asked, wondering how much we could get away with.
“No, she won’t. She doesn’t like to read,” he said, folding his hands in his lap.
“Then we’re good to go,” Shoshanna sang as she skipped joyously around the small office.
“Is Nancy bringing lunch today?” I asked, pushing Shoshanna down onto the couch. She was making me dizzy.
“Nope, she went to Fargo for a few days to visit her daughter.”
Crap, I wanted to talk to her alone. I wasn’t sure if all the ladies knew exactly what the others were being blackmailed for. I didn’t want to risk embarrassing Nancy by talking out of school. “What’s her cell phone number?”
“She doesn’t have one,” LeHump said. “No cell, no answering machine at home, no bank accounts, no e-mail . . . no nothing.”
“How odd.” I sat back down next to Shoshanna. “It’s like she doesn’t exist.” I glanced over at Cecil. He was avidly brushing nonexistent lint from his pants. He knew.
If I was unsure before, I wasn’t anymore. Nancy was Nan Thorenson. But never one to leave anything to chance, I kept pushing. “Does Evangeline write cookbooks?” I asked Cecil, who refused to meet my eye.
“Yes, she does,” he mumbled.
“Now Cecil, that’s not exactly accurate,” Shoshanna fumed, hopping up and poking her little finger into his chest. “The skanky hooker doesn’t write cookbooks, she steals them . . . from Nancy. For a long time I thought the bitch couldn’t write at all; I mean a good handful of her books were written totally by Poppy Harriet, Nancy, and myself. She didn’t bother to change a word. Not one fucking word.” Shoshanna’s voice hardened. “Then I read the Castaway Series, and I realized the hag was a magnificent writer. Ten brilliant books, some of the best I’ve ever read.” She shook her head and her little shoulders fell. “I just don’t understand. If she’s such a great writer, why did she steal all those books from us? She stole careers and livelihoods and dreams.”
I glanced over at Cecil; he was staring down at his notebook. Every part of his body was as still as a statue, except his hands . . . they were trembling. “I must excuse myself.” His voice was distant and resigned. He stood up and left. So much for him coming over to our side . . . whatever she had on him was good, and I was going to find out what it was if it killed me.
Chapter 21
H
oly hell, it was five-fifteen and Jack was due to get here at six. I twisted my hair up into a messy knot so it would stay dry and hopped into the lemon-scented sudsy tub. I tried to relax, but that was a joke. I’ve been stretched as tight as a drum all day. Thursday had gone by in a blur. I was so excited for Jack to get back, I couldn’t concentrate on anything.
oly hell, it was five-fifteen and Jack was due to get here at six. I twisted my hair up into a messy knot so it would stay dry and hopped into the lemon-scented sudsy tub. I tried to relax, but that was a joke. I’ve been stretched as tight as a drum all day. Thursday had gone by in a blur. I was so excited for Jack to get back, I couldn’t concentrate on anything.
Joanne and Poppy Harriet had spent most of the day with us and each took several stabs at Pirate Dave’s adventures. Poppy Harriet’s chapters were filled with bizarre and potentially dangerous sexual uses for items you could find at your local hardware store. I was so perplexed by her description of a blow job using a doorknocker, I got a headache. Cecil just looked nauseated.
Joanne, living in a strange and violent place in her mind, chose to do painful and permanent things to Pirate Dave’s secret admirer (a barely disguised version of Evangeline). She decimated Evangeline’s hair, face, and upper torso. It was so disturbing, I felt myself viscerally reacting.
In the end we kept it all. It gave the book a wonderfully disjointed feeling, a real sense of no direction whatsoever. The reviews were sure to suck. I was curious what Joanne really wrote after that alarming chapter she spewed out. I figured it must be horror or true crime, but we were so busy laughing I had no time to ask.
Leaving the day behind me, I leaned back in the tub and tried to wipe everything from my mind except Jack’s butt and the relaxing scent of my lemony bathwater.
“Mmm, smells good in here,” Kristy said, sitting on the closed toilet in the bathroom. “What are you wearing for your hot date tonight?”
“My good butt jeans, a pale coffee camisole, that sheer cream sexy top, and my shit-kickin’ boots.” I grinned, taking off the top layer of my skin with the loofah. I planned to make my whole body as soft as a baby’s bottom.
“Well, you better hurry. He’ll be here soon and unless you want to greet him in your birthday . . .”
“Hello ladies,” Jack said, leaning against the door frame of my bathroom.
“Shit,” I screamed; both Kristy and I jumped. I sloshed lemon water all over the floor and all over Kristy. “Oh my God, have you ever heard of knocking?” I yelled. Kristy looked down at the floor, trying not to laugh.
Jack smiled and tilted his head to one side, making me want to hop out of the tub, tackle him, and have my way with him. “The front door was wide open,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“Oooh, my bad.” Kristy winced. “I was carrying groceries in and I forget to shut it.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to make sure the bubbles were covering my privates. I’d deal with my ass-hat roommate later.
“Kristy, would you mind giving Rena and me a moment, please?”
“Not at all.” She winked at me as she backed out of the bathroom.
“Traitor,” I yelled at her. She laughed as she left the apartment, shutting the door behind her.
“I’m naked,” I told him, stating the obvious.
“Yes, you are,” he acknowledged.
“You have to turn around so I can get out.”
“Nope.”
“Nope?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Nope.” He was grinning. Clearly the eye-narrowing thing didn’t affect him. I tried staring him down and he just smirked back. Damn, his eyes were beautiful. “You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, sending little jolts all through my body.
“I’ll be a shriveled prune if you don’t leave the bathroom and let me get out,” I shot back as I noticed the bubbles disappearing. Shit.
“Let’s play a game,” he suggested with a glint in his eye. Uh-oh. . . I could see his brain wheels turning.
“What kind of game?” I asked, trying to suppress my inner slut, who was demanding I agree to anything the sexy guy wanted.
“It’s called ‘Look But Don’t Touch.’ I promise not to touch, but I get to watch.” His voice was husky and low. It was a good thing there wasn’t enough water in the tub for me to drown in because he was turning me into jelly.
I examined my pruney fingers and considered his request. I might be able to work this to my advantage if my inner ho-bag didn’t get out of line. My plan was to seduce him, make him realize I trusted him, and then ride him like a cowboy until we both passed out.
“Fine,” I told him, “you can look, but you can’t touch.”
I stood up and smiled, letting the suds slowly slide down my body. I had never been so bold in my life, but this man made me feel so sexy, I’d consider streaking again. His hands closed into fists and I enjoyed watching him try to stay put. I leisurely ran my hands over my breasts, my hips, my stomach, and thighs, pushing the rest of the suds down to my ankles. I enjoyed torturing him. Unfortunately I was also torturing myself. I wanted him so badly I physically ached.
I stepped out of the tub and bent over at the hips, my very nice rear end facing him, and picked up a fluffy white bath sheet. My inner ho-bag and slut were high-fiving with joy. I heard him groan and purposely bang his head on the doorframe. Damn, this was fun.
“You are so mean,” he laughed.
“Oh baby,” I cooed, “I am so just getting started.” I began to dry my body, starting at my feet, my calves, my thighs . . . When I got to my bottom, I put the bath towel between my legs, holding it with my right hand in front of me and my left hand behind. All I needed was some cheesy background music and I could be starring in my own porno. I bitch-slapped the inner critic in my head and decided to go for it. I pulled the nubby towel back and forth, watching him the entire time. His lips were parted and his gorgeous eyes were hooded. His hands had unclenched and he was holding on to the doorframe above his head. Evidence of his desire was obvious. Tremendously so.
The towel was creating a friction between my legs that was very close to backfiring on me. Instead of drying myself, I was getting soaked. The look in his eyes and the pressure between my legs made my knees buckle. I didn’t even see him move, but move he did.
One hand was on my back, pressing my breasts against his chest. The other was on my ass and sliding lower, reaching with his fingers between my legs. He groaned as he felt how wet I was and reached further, finding the spot that only I was ever able to zone in on. He had no trouble. He began to rub in circular motions with well-aimed pinches in between.
“You’re cheating,” I gasped, trying unsuccessfully to calm my undulating hips.
“You win, I lose,” he ground out as he captured my mouth with his. He wasn’t even a little bit gentle. His manhandling was about to make me speak in tongues.
“Jack,” I moaned, “you’re making me come apart.”
“I just want to make you to come,” he said as his lips and teeth moved to my neck. His tongue darted to the concave area by my collar bone and I shuddered. His hand was moving so quickly against me I was whimpering. I was spiraling out of control and loving it. His fingers felt better than Vinnie set on high. I bucked against his hand, moaned his name, and raked my nails down his back.
“God, Rena,” he whispered against my ear, “you are killing me. So sexy, so beautiful . . . so fucking wet. You’re mine. No one else’s. Mine.” He increased his efforts. My lady bits were literally throbbing under his expert hands. I couldn’t speak, I thought I might pass out and fall to the floor from the onslaught of sensation, but lucky for me I stayed conscious. He buried his teeth in my neck at the same time he buried two fingers deeply inside me.
I screamed.
As he made love to my mouth with his own, he worked his fingers in and out of my body. The pleasure from the activity he was engaged in made me see Jesus. I screamed again and swore in at least five languages. My body jerked and tightened like a vise around his hand. I heard him laugh in total masculine pleasure as I kept spasming over and over while his fingers continued to move inside me.
It seemed like hours later when I floated down from the most intense orgasm I’d ever had in my life. I was ready to pass out, but Jack had other plans. He gave me no downtime as his hands went back to work on my most sensitive areas. My body stiffened to reject him, but he wouldn’t stop. His mouth found mine as his fingers went to my magic spot and began an erotic massage. I was still tender and swollen from before, but that didn’t slow him.
“Jack, I can’t,” I whimpered.
“Yes, you can,” he said. His lips made their way from my mouth to my neck.
“No more,” I pleaded, “please . . . no more.”
“Yes more, so much more,” he said as his mouth closed over my painfully erect nipple and sucked. While my mouth was busy telling him no, my body was telling an entirely different story. My hips pumped against his hand and my back arched to give him better access to my breasts. My inner slut and I had become one and we were having a hell of a good time.
The tightening and tingling started between my legs and traveled upward, sending shock waves pinging through me. I wrapped my arms around his head as he teased my nipples with his tongue and spread my legs to give him better access. He chuckled and bit down on my nipple.
I cried out from the pain and pleasure of what he was doing. My body tried to jerk away, but he held me fast. His fingers continued to plunge into me and he pressed the heel of his hand against my clit. The rhythm of my hips increased to a frantic pace and I let loose a string of swear words I didn’t know I knew as my body exploded into another earth-shattering orgasm. I was certain my voice would be gone for six months. Jack held me tight, showering me with kisses as I rode out my second orgasm in fifteen minutes.
“Oh my God,” I croaked, “that was . . . I’ve never. Oh God, you’re amazing.”
He smiled and brushed my wild hair out of my face, carried me into my bedroom and sat me on his lap. “You amaze me. You are everything I want.”
I realized, while I’d had my turn and then some, he had not . . . “Um Jack.” All of a sudden I felt shy. “Do you want to . . . finish what we um . . . started?”
“I would love to,” he grinned and my tummy flipped. “But only if you trust me.”
“Jack.”
“Yes?”
“I trust you. I really, really trust you.”
“Thank God,” he laughed, tossing me onto my back on the bed. “So, what should we do first?” His eyes raked my body, making me tingle in anticipation.
“I think we already did first. It’s time for second. Get naked,” I ordered gleefully.
He barked with laughter and obliged. “With pleasure.” His voice was hoarse and sexy. Even after what my body had just been through, it wanted more. It took everything I had not to throw myself at him while he slowly disrobed. Obnoxiously slow. With a huge grin on his face, he danced around the bedroom like a male stripper with no sense of rhythm. As I laughed at his show, he removed his shirt . . . then his shoes . . . then his socks . . . then his belt . . . then his pants. Then his boxer briefs.
Oh. My. God. His body was glorious. Strong and muscular and so fucking hot, like satin stretched over steel. His shoulders were broad and his arms were muscular. His chest was perfection with a light sprinkling of crisp blond hair. It tapered down to his abdomen, which was ripped; his cock was long and thick and as hard as a rock. I clenched in anticipation of how he would feel inside me. His eyes narrowed as he watched me like a predator watches his prey. He waited for me to make the first move before he pounced.
Hmm, a new game . . . I hopped off the bed and touched him. He kept his hands still at his sides, letting me do all the work. His muscles rippled under my fingertips and his body shuddered as I lightly ran my nails over his nipples. I liked this game.
I moved lower, taking him into my hands. He felt so good, so perfect, but I wanted more. I kept my eyes on his as I slowly dropped down until my mouth was right where I wanted it. They stayed locked on his as I flicked my tongue out and circled the swollen head of his cock. He groaned and twined his fingers into my hair, pushing my mouth further down on him.
I had never known the taste and feel of a man in my mouth could be so erotic. He was intoxicating. Making him come apart at the seams was as much of a turn-on as riding him like a cowboy. I gripped his hips and relaxed my throat, taking in as much of him as I could.
I felt powerful and sexy as I went down on him. He made the sexiest sounds I’d ever heard and my whole body reacted. His moans spurred me to move faster, taking him deeper and deeper.
“Rena, stop,” Jack hissed, pulling me off him. It made a popping sound as my mouth released him. I could still taste him on my tongue and lips as he dragged me up his body. “I want to come inside you,” he growled and moved to my breasts. His teeth, lips, and tongue on my nipples were making me lose it. He divided his attention between my breasts, licking, nipping, and sucking me into a blubbering mess.
His beautiful mouth and talented tongue moved slowly down my body, over my ribs, my stomach, and then lower to the center of my universe. He pushed me down on the bed and greedily went after what he wanted. To completely destroy me.
He went to work with an expertise and hunger that was mind blowing. My hips began to buck. I didn’t know I had anything left. I gasped and moaned as he licked and nipped.
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