Strings (2 page)

Shades chokes on his drink, wipes his mouth
with a coat sleeve, and laughs. Gorgeous teeth.

A glass slides across the bar from Rob a few
feet away. I stop it with my open hand and smile.

Rob grins and saunters over. “I got you this
Flaming Armadillo for your birthday, my dear. I hope it fits.” He
flicks his lighter and ignites the liquid in the glass. Blue flames
dance. I salivate.

“
Rob, it’s perfect. You
shouldn’t have.”

“
You’re
welcome.”

I pick up the shot and
blow it out.
To another year of dream
chasing. Maybe this’ll be the one where I finally make it
big.
“Happy birthday to me.”

Gulp.
Down the chute it goes, and I lose five IQ points as the
alcohol gets busy with my already precarious brain chemistry. At
least somebody’s getting some action.

Shades raises his glass and shoots whatever
he’s drinking. “Did you make a wish?”

I’m not telling my real
wish. That shit won’t come true if you spill it. Instead, I say,
“
All I want for my birthday is to get
fucked unconscious with no strings attached.” Not a lie.

“
What a coincidence. I’ve
got a big dick, a bar tab, and the local cab company’s number on
speed dial.” The guy’s eyes bore into me from behind the dark
lenses, and I have a momentary lapse in vaginal secretion
control.

Clean up on aisle twelve, stat!

His pierced eyebrow arches, his lips part to
reveal an orthodontist’s magnum opus, and Shades suddenly looks
pretty fucking hot.

I know it’s the alcohol and my raging libido
ganging up on me. I know tomorrow morning, this motherfucker is
gonna turn out to be the ugliest fucking turd a worm-infested dog
ever shat. I know it’s the insecurities from my professional life
urging me to take unwarranted risks in my personal life. But by
God, if I don’t get laid tonight, my cooter will go nuclear and
wipe out a city block.

Nobody wants that.

I face the guy full on and wave him into the
empty stool between us. My brain sloshes every time I move my head.
Shades scoots over, leaving his empty glass behind. Now that he’s
closer, I take a good look at him. Mostly clean. Fingernails are
free of dirt. Smells nice.

“
What’s your name,
pussycat?” he says.

I glance down at his lap in hopes of
catching a hint of this Woodrow he’s so damn proud of. Too dark to
see anything, so I lay a hand on his thigh. “Now why would you want
to go and complicate shit by asking my name? Just call me Lucky.
’Cause you’re getting Lucky tonight, Shades.”

Yeah, I said that. I guess this means I’m
committed. I really hope the dick comes through for me. I stretch
my hand up a little higher and brush…oh yeah, there it is. Plumped
halfway down his thigh and more stubborn than me.

Happy birthday, indeed.

“
Okay, Lucky. It’s you,
me, a trip to the adult toy store, and a hotel.” He pulls out his
wallet and tosses a hundred-dollar bill on the bar. Shit, he wasn’t
kidding. About anything.

Rob heads over. He can smell big money a
mile away.

“
Give me a bottle of
tequila. To go.” Shades stands up and readjusts his
boner.

As they negotiate the terms of the hostage
tequila’s release, I watch this dude. He’s taller than me—who
isn’t?—and has a laid-back, old-school vibe about him despite the
modern tattoos and piercings. I like it. He must be as desperate as
I am to get laid, otherwise he wouldn’t be jerking off Ben Franklin
for a bottle of cheap tequila and an even cheaper date.

I stand, and the floor tilts left. I grab
the back of the barstool. Oh yeah, this is gonna be some fun shit.
Halfway in the bag already, and I have some guy I never met taking
me out for drinks and dildos.

But you know what? It’s my birthday, and I’m
horny as a teenager discovering Internet porn. I’ll never see this
asshole again. Fuck it.

Shades tucks the brown-wrapped bottle under
his arm and faces me. Still with the glasses, yet now I’m kinda
grateful for them. Once my shameless shame is complete, I want to
remember as little of his face as possible.

“
Ready to rock,
Lucky?”

I snort. “I was born ready.”

Rob salutes me behind him. “Have fun.”

“
Oh, I will.” And out the
door I go with a man I hope will have me living up to my new name
in about ten minutes.

Pussy Grenades and Ass
Bunkers

“
You always pick up
strangers for sex?” Shades says as we head down the street. His
breath curls in a wisp with the cold air. Damn, he’s a
lot
taller than
me.

Slosh,
slosh
. And damn, I’m druuunk. “Do
you?”

“
They usually throw
themselves at me. I have to beat them off.”

“
I’d like to beat you
off.” I giggle. Yeah, I said that too. “You got condoms?” Best to
get business out of the way so we can enjoy the
pleasure.

“
I’ll pick some up at the
adult store.”

I stop. “You’re serious about that?”

“
What? You bumming me with
a strap-on?” He shrugs. “Sure.”

What have I gotten myself into? “You’re
gay.”

He snickers. “No.”

“
Bi.”

“
Open-minded.”

Well, ain’t this the shit? I was totally
fucking joking, but now that he’s game, I kinda am too. “You ever
been butt-boinked by a drunk, dildo-clad woman before?”

There’s that naughty grin again. “No, but
I’ll try anything once.”

Oh, I like this guy. He’s the total opposite
of that uptight asshole I was fucking before. And now that we’re
out of the shitty bar light, he looks even better.

Probably the tequila goggles.

Fuck it.

“
You got any diseases I
need to be worried about?”

“
Other than an acute case
of blue balls? No.”

I look him square in the glasses. No signs
of twitchiness. No oozing mouth sores. Breath is good. This guy’s
cleared for landing. “Okay. Let’s go.”

A million other questions
rush through my drunk head, but with the most important ones out of
the way, I keep quiet. Besides, the more I know about him, the more
I’ll
want
to
know, and I can’t get involved with anyone right now. I have other
things to focus on, like becoming famous.

“
I’m gonna need a
strap-on, a dildo, some lube, condoms, and more of that
tequila.”

He hands me the bottle, which I open and
chug while blocking the entire sidewalk. A guy with a stick up his
ass walks by and says, “You can’t drink on the street. It’s against
the law.”

I scowl at the party pooper and turn my face
to the half-moon winking at me from above. “Fuck your drinking
laws, Athens, Georgia. I’m invincible!”

Shades laughs, swipes the bottle, and pulls
a hearty swig too. A little of the liquor spills from the corner of
his mouth, and I pull his head down by the ears to lick it. I get a
whiff of his cologne, and my head spins faster.

Flashing a white-toothed rock-star smile, he
recaps the glass. A trio of bodacious sorority girls stumbles past,
and he doesn’t even glance. I’m all his? Aww, shucks.

The bottle goes into the
bag, and Shades leads me by the arm to a parked cab on the corner.
We tumble into the back seat, a mess of arms and legs and foggy
tequila breath. A hand falls on my boob and squeezes. If my nipples
could ejaculate, they would. God, this is happening so fast, and
I’m
so
horny. I
fumble in the dark until I find his hard cock, and I stroke him. He
tells the driver where we’re going, and I drop my head into his
lap.

Fuck, this is a big dick. My cooch produces
another juice explosion as I slide my teeth along the torpedo
testing the strength of his jeans. He adjusts in the seat, grabs a
fistful of my long, fire-engine-red hair, and guides my mouth with
expert precision. He’s done this before. I imagine twisting my
locks around his dick like a cock ring and sucking the head until
he comes all over my face. Or in my mouth. Or on my tits.

I do love the cock, no matter which way it
comes.

And I’m fucked up on tequila, which makes me
not just horny but also invincible, as I mentioned to Athens,
Georgia, moments ago.

Shades sucks in a quick breath and tightens
his grip. Shit, I must’ve gotten a little excited and nipped him.
Pushing the mess of hair from my face, I sit up. I assume his eyes
are on me. Wish I could see them. I sure as fuck can’t read his
expression with those damn glasses in the way.

Nope. Resist the temptation, Letty. Fuck him
like a Roman nympho whore with a flaming crotch, let him put it out
with a cum spritzer, then run like hell.

He leans in as if to kiss
me but doesn’t follow through. The fucking tease. My nipples harden
to stones as I fantasize about his tongue licking, swirling, biting
one. His hands encircle my waist, and before my drunk ass registers
a hint of impishness, one of them is skidding down my butt crack on
a crash course with the liquid gold erupting from Mount Vagina. Two
fingers on a mission bypass my asshole and surprise attack my
primed pussy from behind. Like a ninja
boss
!

I gasp—not from the shock, but from the
unexpected pleasure. Grinning like he owns me—which I’ll admit, he
totally does—he slides in and out.

The pressure builds too fast. Jesus Christ.
I’m gonna come in the back of a taxi while a guy I don’t know
fingers me on our way to pick up a strap-on from a sex toy
store.

I yank his arm from behind me and shove one
of his Letty-drizzled fingers into his mouth. He makes a show of
licking me off him, which gets me wetter. I smile and snag a lick
of my own, skidding my tongue slowly up the digits until I reach
the calloused pad of his middle finger. Here’s where I show him
what his dick is missing.

Long pulls on the sensitive tip of his
finger, then spirals up and down the length drag a heavy exhale out
of him. I maintain a steady vacuum as I lick the underside, wishing
it were his shaft twitching in my mouth. God, I want to taste
him.

I ruffle his cute hair and whisper in his
ear, “Your cock is next.”

His smile widens, grabs me by the pussy, and
diddles.

I’m seriously melting, despite the cold. And
sorely tempted to mount this motherfucker here and now for an
appetizer in preparation for the upcoming main course. If I don’t
get release soon—

The car rolls to a stop in a parking lot.
“This the place?” the cabbie says.

I’m grateful for the interruption because my
twat is so wet, I’ll be leaving a tip in this guy’s taxi in the
form of a monstrous cum stain. How the hell do you get goose juice
out of a car’s upholstery? His problem. Not mine.

“
I’ll be back in a
minute.” Shades pushes the liquor bottle into my hands, gropes my
tit again, and kisses me hard. The scratch of his rough stubble
against my smooth cheek cocks the loaded round of cum shots eagerly
awaiting detonation in my pussy.

In a flash, he’s gone. Seconds later, I miss
him already. There’s nothing else to do but drink more tequila. So,
I slide down the seat where the driver can’t see me in the
rearview, and I imbibe.

Here’s the thing about me and tequila. We’re
tight. I know exactly how it’ll affect me and at what point I
should slap its ass and send it home. I’ve already passed stages
one and two: “I’m Rich,” and “I’m Good Looking.” Stage three, “I’m
Bulletproof,” is imminent. I tip up the bottle for another
shot.

Oh hell, who am I kidding? I’m totally in
stage three. My goal tonight is to maintain a steady stream of
invincibility. If I hit stage four—“I’m Invisible”—I’ll likely pass
out, and that would ruin all my fun.

I can’t see anything in the dark, but the
bottle feels kinda light already. Maybe I should take off my shirt
and pour the rest down my front so Shades can lick it off.

Body shots.

Nipple shots.

Pussy shots!

I clutch the bottle to my
chest. I’m
so
saving this for later.

The driver lifts his chin and peers at me in
the rearview. He wants me. I can tell.

The door pops open, and a welcome rush of
cold air stings my face. “Shades, baby!” I throw my arms around his
shoulders and sloppy-drunk lick his stubble. That pierced eyebrow
hitches again. He drops a brown paper bag between his feet on the
floorboard. I can’t fucking wait to see what he got. The door slams
shut.

I lean close and whisper in his ear, “The
driver wants to have sex with me. He’s staring at my tits.”

“
Can’t have that. Those
belong to me.” His hand worms its way up the back of my shirt. With
one flick of the wrist, my bra clasp pops and unleashes The
Girls.

“
Where to?” the driver
says. He’s salivating. I know it.

I wipe the corner of my mouth. Damn, I am
too.

“
Armstrong Suites
downtown.” Rough fingers pinch and tweak my nipples. His palm
kneads my aching cans. Jesus, if he keeps that up, I’ll have a
titgasm.

Hold on. “Armstrong Suites? The new hotel
chain? Isn’t that place ridiculously expensive?”

Shades removes his hand, smiles, and notches
his glasses down just enough for me to see the mischief in his
eyes. “Only the best for Lucky.”

Great. This guy gonna fuck me, slice me up,
and sell my pieces for turtle soup or some shit.