Sandy’s pussy squirted when she came; her juices flowed down the sides of her legs as Guy filled her with his hard cock. She moaned and grunted with his every thrust. Digging her nails into his back leaving long red lines. Some drawing blood. He raised up, pushing himself up on to his hands straining his forearm muscles as Sandy wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles, afraid he might get away. But she had no reasons to worry. Guy having no intentions of trying to get away. Only to push deeper inside her.
Sandy was beginning to think that she was destined to be the other woman for the rest of her life as she went to answer the door buzzer; Guy standing holding flowers -lilies, her favorite- on the other side looking strange through the fish-eyed lens of the door’s peephole. She leaned her head against the door, unsure of what to do. Her mind said don’t answer, that it would only bring her pain and heartbreak -again; her heart wouldn’t let her though.
God he looked good, she thought.
A thousand questions ran through her head: Why was he here? How the hell did he find me? Was he still married? Excreta. Excreta.
The buzzer sounded a second time, then a knock. He was about to give up. Move away, move on. Sandy could hear the desperation in his hand as it banged gently against the door. It was now or never. Did she answer and go back down that road, or does she let him leave? And in doing so finally move on with her own life?
“Don’t go,” she said to slowly a retreating figure in the hallway.
“I was afraid you…”
“Afraid of what? I wasn’t home?” She giggled, she couldn’t help herself. She felt giddy standing there in the doorway talking to her life’s one great love. Why was it that she couldn’t find someone without all the access baggage? “Or were you afraid that I didn’t want to see you? Or perhaps that I moved on?”
“I don’t know. Maybe everything. Maybe nothing. I was just… afraid. We didn’t leave things well the last time we saw each other.”
Sandy could remember the last time like it was yesterday, the pain still fresh. The cheap airport motel he rented; how itchy the course bed sheets felt on her back as they kissed. Guy’s hand moving across her breasts, down her stomach, in-between her legs. The thought of that almost took her breath away as she stood there. But then she remembered how it all ended: the tears, the broken promises. The sweet and tender apologizes. That mad dash from the room into a rainy night like some bad ending to a pulp novel. Hard to believe it had been five years. He had a fiancé then. Now, she assumed, wife. She moved, physically. Twice. Tried to move on mentally. And when that didn’t work tried to fuck him out of her system with countless guys, girls. Whoever. And after a while it seemed to work. She didn’t think about him (as much), and when she did the pain wasn’t as bad. But now here he was. Standing in front of her. A memory made flesh. But was it the angle version she had of Guy or the devil? Did matter?
No. It didn’t
“Well, come on in.” Sandy opened the door all the way and stepped aside so he could enter. “We have a lot to catch up on.” That familiar sent as he walked by; the tingling her body made as his hand brushed against her arm. Sandy promised herself she’d be good. But she knew deep down it was for naught. “Are you still married?”
“Ah, the same old Sandy.”
“What? I think it’s a fair question.” The door shut harder that she intended, surprising not only her, but Guy. She leaned against the door, hands behind her back to keep them in check incase they decided to have a mind of their own.
Guy laughed. “I guess it is.” He sighed deeply. “So, yes, I’m still married. But truth be told, it’s a marriage of conveyance not of passion.” Guy quickly added. “I brought you flowers. Are lilies still your favorite?”
Sandy’s primal urge seemed to take over, the flowers fell to the floor and she was on him, pulling his lips to hers forcefully before she even knew that she had. Her other hand tore open his shirt, scratched at his chest, squeezed his nipples. Then Sandy dragged her nails down his stomach. She could feel his hardness through his jeans. Sandy pulled her lips from his; her hand from the back of his neck to concentrate on undoing his pants. Falling to her knees as she yanked them down. Guy gasped as Sandy clenched his cock in her hand, slowly stroking it as she looked at him greedily. Then she took him into her mouth. He almost exploded then and there as he grabbed onto the sides of her head, forcing her to slow. But then she would work her tongue around his shaft. Guy shuttered as he released into her mouth. It had been so long since he’d been this excited.
Sandy looked so young as she gazed up at him, gently kissing the head of his cock. “Now that we’ve had the appetizer, I think it’s time we move to the bedroom for the main course.”
Sandy took Guy on a carnal ride of all the things she had learned over the years of trying to forget him. The time of him being more knowledgeable of pleasures of the body were a thing of the past. And now that he had a taste of it, he didn’t want to let it go.
Guy fell next to her spent, covered in sweat and bodily secretions one could only get through sex. “God…damn…” he said, breathlessly. “I don’t remember it…quite like…that.”
Sandy was silent for a moment, catching her own breath. Then she said: “Yeah, well, I’ve learned a thing or too since you’ve been gone.”
Sandy got out of bed, and walked naked too the bathroom. Another thing Guy saw that was new. The Sandy before -his Sandy back when they were an under cover item- would never had dome that. She was more of the cover up after sex type of girl, but this version of the girl he knew was much improved. And something he was going enjoy keeping around instead of the one night stand as he intentioned. And Guy was about too say as much -whatever he needed too say to get her back, when Sandy called out from the other room:
“You know, Guy, I hate too a bitch, but I think you should go. You know it goes: Places to go, people too see. But, hey, thanks for flowers.”
Copyrighted: Paul Dabrowski 03/21/2011
Showing posts with label one-night stands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label one-night stands. Show all posts
Monday, March 21, 2011
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The Last Night Stand
Blood encased his body like a suit of armor, empowering him; emboldening him, making him almost giddy with it’s texture upon his skin. That copper smell that inflicted his senses; he could feel his own blood rise with it, wanting to mingle with that of his latest conquest in an otherwise lack luster world, engorging his manhood.
He twisted his body around, taking in the view of his handy work. He could still feel the sensations of slashing in his arms; could still hear those feeble screams for mercy ringing in his ears. It brought a smile to his face. The carnage he had wrought.
He met her in some out of the way roadside bar -the Route 12 Pub to be precise- that happened to be a spur of the moment decision. Some of his best ones came about this way. Unfortunately she would only be sub-par.
The pub was dimly lit; the jukebox squawked out some seventies garbage at a obscene decibel making this decision seem like a bad one at first, then he saw her: the barfly sitting alone at the end of the bar nursing -or so he thought at the time- some fruity concoction that just didn’t fit the shot and a beer motif of the place. Other than that the place was pretty dead. He didn’t know what it was about her, she was nothing special, just another woman ten years past her prime that hung out in places like this trying to hook up with whoever, like that would somehow fill their empty lonely feeling -at least for a little while. The world was full people like this, male and female. But there was something about her that struck him, making her just a tad bit different. A little more…He couldn’t put his finger on it. At least not yet. Maybe it was the desperation he saw in her eyes when she looked at him as he entered the bar. Maybe.
He took a seat about half down the bar; half way to her. She watched him the whole way. Not even glancing away like most people do when they made eye contact. That look of desperation still there but starting give way to what could only be called hope.
He gave a sly smile as the bartender gave him his beer. That was all the opening she needed. She slammed the rest of her drink down her throat, picked up her cigarettes and made her way over.
“Hi,” she said as she took the seat next to him. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
Her husky voice was thick, slightly slurred which made her all the more appealing.
“That’s probably because I’ve never been here before. I figured I stop for a drink or two and wait out the storm.” It had been raining hard ever since he got onto route 12 thirty minutes earlier. He held out his hand. “Bob.” a lie. “Bob Smith.” another lie.
Bob and Smith had to be the two most generic and widely used names in the country, if not the world. The only two other names that could even be considered to be even close in the running were Jesus and Mohammed, two of which he figured he couldn’t pull off very well.
“Deborah Manning. But my friends just call me Debbi.”
“Well, Debbi, nice to meet ya.”
“Nice to meet you. So if you’re waiting out the storm does that mean you’re just passing through or-”
“I’m afraid so, Debbi.” Her smile wavered a little. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a drink or two and get to know one another.”
Before he entered the bar -got out of the car even- he opened his cooler that he used for occasions like this and ate a cube of butter. He found out early on that butter, like bread and ice-cream, coated one’s stomach not allowing the absorption of alcohol, or at least cutting it down drastically, so he could drink a lot and not worry about it’s effect on him or to be drank under the table himself. This technique went over well at college parties he used to attend, but after a while he found no real reason to keep using it ( college girls seemed to like to drink themselves into unconsciousness without any real prodding already ) until he left school.
Deborah -Debbi to her friends- giggled like a school girl at all of his bad jokes and innuendos he feed her, touching his arm or shoulder, sometimes even his leg as she did so. They were on their sixth shot of tequila -she drank them down like a practiced veteran like there was no tomorrow. And little did she no that for her there wasn’t.
“You’re so funny, Bob.” She said, almost falling from the stool. Catching herself at the last second with a well placed hand on his inner thigh. “Too bad that you’re just passing through.”
“Well, I don’t have to pass that fast through. I’m only on my way home from my sisters.”
A mischievous smile spread across her lips. “But I’m sure Mrs. Smith might worry- “
“There isn’t one.”
She leaned in close to his ear: “It wouldn’t matter if there was.” She ended with a seductive giggle. Happy with herself that she wasn’t that wasted not to be able to make her attentions clear. This wouldn’t have the first married man she took home and doubted it would be her last.
“So, would like to stay awhile since you don’t have to pass through fast and maybe take a lady out to breakfast?”
“But it’s only midnight,” he said, mimicking her move of leaning in close; making sure he slurred his words just enough. “Don’t you think it’s a little early for breakfast?”
Debbi giggled again as she grabbed his hand, pulling him from his stool.
“I’m sure we could find something too do until then.” She started to lead him towards the door. “Maybe work up a little appetite in the process.”
The rain had settle into a steady mist, seeming to glow like fog around the lights. The effect of the wetness on their faces seemed too sober them up a little.
Debbi leaned against the door of a red Jeep Cherokee, pulling him close too kiss him forcefully, her tongue rapping and dancing around his; their breathing grew more excited as they clawed at each other’s clothes. She moaned as he grabbed a handful of her breast, she reciprocated by grabbing him between the legs, feeling his hardness beneath his jeans.
“I want you,” she said breathlessly. “I want too feel your cock inside me.”
He kissed her hard again. She would get that and more.
“Where should we go?” he asked just as out of breath. “Is there a motel near here.“
Of course there was. He passed it on the way there. It was one of reasons he stopped. But Debbi surprised him when she said:
“I don’t live that far away.” She turned away and opened the door of the Cherokee. “Follow me to my place.”
True to her word she didn’t.
He followed Debbi along rain soaked streets he wouldn’t of guess where there if he would have drove through for not even five minutes. He pulled in behind her car into a driveway of run down ranch style house. She was out of the car and into the house by the time he got out of his. Light spilled from the door she left open.
The inside didn’t far much better than the out; the living room had a rustic country look, the carpet’s padding well worn down from years of foot traffic. He wondered how many men before had trodden along this path to Debbi’s room, or did they even bother to get that far. Just stopping at the couch or falling onto the carpet to fornicate like two animals in heat.
He shut the door behind him, strangely enough Debbi was nowhere to be found.
“Hello? Debbi?”
“I’ll be right there,” her voice called out from somewhere inside. She appeared a few moments later pantsless, her hanging shirt -now partially unbuttoned- barely covering her red bikini underwear. “Sorry, I really had to go pee.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It happens to everyone.”
She bit her lower lip like a child who got caught doing something they weren’t suppose too. “So?”
“So.”
The moment turned slightly awkward. Neither one willing to make the first move for some reason.
“So,” he said again, “what did you have in mind until breakfast?”
Debbi smiled, turned and stepped through another door. “Why don’t you come here and find out.”
She pounced on him as soon as he was beyond the door. Kissing him hard once again, turning him as she did so, shoving him upon the bed. The springs squeaked as he bounced. Debbi wasted no time on undoing his pants; her attention solely on removing his manhood from his jeans. She grabbed his cock as it sprang free and instantly brought it to her mouth. He gasped as her tongue ran down the length of his hardness. The little slurping sounds she made drove him crazy, practically making him climax.
He took by her shoulders and flipped Debbi onto the bed, stripped off her panties, then buried his head greedily between her legs. Debbi responded immediately with load moans; digging her fingers into his head, through his hair, as he lapped at her wetness.
“Oh yes. Oh yes,” she screamed, eyes rolling back in her head. “Don’t stop! DON”T STOP! aaAAAHHH! AaaAAAAHHHHHAAAAaaa!”
Debbi pushed his head out from between her thighs, giggling.
He eased her further along the bed, then he took her arms -first the left then the right- and tied them to the headboard with some of discarded clothing that was strewn about.
“MMmm, I like a man who is forceful and knows what he wants.”
He took the scarf he saw lying on the side table and rapped it around her eyes, blindfolding her.
“I’ll be right back,” he told as he got up from the bed, “don’t go anywhere.”
Debbi laughed. “Don’t worry master. Do to me what you will.”
He returned to the room a few seconds after he left, got on the bed and slid himself deep inside her. Debbi let out a deep, sharp breath of pleasure as she felt his presence. He began a slow and steady rhythm at first that turned into a fierce motion, his body pounding into her’s. The headboard began to bang against the wall, the bed springs squeaked and squealed as he rode her, suckling breasts as he squeezed them. Her soft cries at first turned into savage moans:
“OH GOD! YES! OH YES! I LOVE IT LIKE THAT! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! I LOVE IT WHEN I’M FUCKED HARD! YES! YES! YES!”
He pulled himself up on his knees, plunging his hard cock deep as he could in Debbi, unleashing a long load moan of ecstasy. That’s when she felt something different, a cold sensation entering her abdomen that became searing and painful. Then Debbi felt it again and again and again. At the same moment that he began the rocking motion between her legs.
“WHAT TH-! HEY OWW! STOP! STOP!” Debbi screamed as he slashed down with the kitchen knife, slicing through her skin; digging deep into her stomach. “WHAT THE HELL…STOP! SOMEBODY HELP! HELP!”
Blood sprayed out with each thurst; he fell on top of her as he continued to fuck a stab Debbi, covering himself in her blood and gore. He felt so alive, so excited, so god like as he took Debbi’s life.
Her cries for help began to subside, too drift away. The knife sounded like he was lashing it against a wet sponge when he finally ended his onslaught. So carried away he became that he failed to even notice how much blood there was, how it covered him, the the wall and headboard, how it soaked into the bed until he got up from her and took everything in.
His breathing began too slow, going back to normal as the adrenaline wore off. It was like coming down from the altulment high. But unlike any drug always left him wanting more.
He strode from the room, gathering his clothes as he did, showered, then returned with a bottle of Vodka he found in the freezer, dosing Debbi and the bed with it. Then tossed the bottle next to her lifeless form; took a cigarette, lit it and took a long pull, trapping the smoke in his lungs for a moment before releasing it, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. Then flick the cigarette on the bed, igniting the alcohol. The bed, Debbi, and the room were fully engulfed when he exited.
He twisted his body around, taking in the view of his handy work. He could still feel the sensations of slashing in his arms; could still hear those feeble screams for mercy ringing in his ears. It brought a smile to his face. The carnage he had wrought.
He met her in some out of the way roadside bar -the Route 12 Pub to be precise- that happened to be a spur of the moment decision. Some of his best ones came about this way. Unfortunately she would only be sub-par.
The pub was dimly lit; the jukebox squawked out some seventies garbage at a obscene decibel making this decision seem like a bad one at first, then he saw her: the barfly sitting alone at the end of the bar nursing -or so he thought at the time- some fruity concoction that just didn’t fit the shot and a beer motif of the place. Other than that the place was pretty dead. He didn’t know what it was about her, she was nothing special, just another woman ten years past her prime that hung out in places like this trying to hook up with whoever, like that would somehow fill their empty lonely feeling -at least for a little while. The world was full people like this, male and female. But there was something about her that struck him, making her just a tad bit different. A little more…He couldn’t put his finger on it. At least not yet. Maybe it was the desperation he saw in her eyes when she looked at him as he entered the bar. Maybe.
He took a seat about half down the bar; half way to her. She watched him the whole way. Not even glancing away like most people do when they made eye contact. That look of desperation still there but starting give way to what could only be called hope.
He gave a sly smile as the bartender gave him his beer. That was all the opening she needed. She slammed the rest of her drink down her throat, picked up her cigarettes and made her way over.
“Hi,” she said as she took the seat next to him. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
Her husky voice was thick, slightly slurred which made her all the more appealing.
“That’s probably because I’ve never been here before. I figured I stop for a drink or two and wait out the storm.” It had been raining hard ever since he got onto route 12 thirty minutes earlier. He held out his hand. “Bob.” a lie. “Bob Smith.” another lie.
Bob and Smith had to be the two most generic and widely used names in the country, if not the world. The only two other names that could even be considered to be even close in the running were Jesus and Mohammed, two of which he figured he couldn’t pull off very well.
“Deborah Manning. But my friends just call me Debbi.”
“Well, Debbi, nice to meet ya.”
“Nice to meet you. So if you’re waiting out the storm does that mean you’re just passing through or-”
“I’m afraid so, Debbi.” Her smile wavered a little. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a drink or two and get to know one another.”
Before he entered the bar -got out of the car even- he opened his cooler that he used for occasions like this and ate a cube of butter. He found out early on that butter, like bread and ice-cream, coated one’s stomach not allowing the absorption of alcohol, or at least cutting it down drastically, so he could drink a lot and not worry about it’s effect on him or to be drank under the table himself. This technique went over well at college parties he used to attend, but after a while he found no real reason to keep using it ( college girls seemed to like to drink themselves into unconsciousness without any real prodding already ) until he left school.
Deborah -Debbi to her friends- giggled like a school girl at all of his bad jokes and innuendos he feed her, touching his arm or shoulder, sometimes even his leg as she did so. They were on their sixth shot of tequila -she drank them down like a practiced veteran like there was no tomorrow. And little did she no that for her there wasn’t.
“You’re so funny, Bob.” She said, almost falling from the stool. Catching herself at the last second with a well placed hand on his inner thigh. “Too bad that you’re just passing through.”
“Well, I don’t have to pass that fast through. I’m only on my way home from my sisters.”
A mischievous smile spread across her lips. “But I’m sure Mrs. Smith might worry- “
“There isn’t one.”
She leaned in close to his ear: “It wouldn’t matter if there was.” She ended with a seductive giggle. Happy with herself that she wasn’t that wasted not to be able to make her attentions clear. This wouldn’t have the first married man she took home and doubted it would be her last.
“So, would like to stay awhile since you don’t have to pass through fast and maybe take a lady out to breakfast?”
“But it’s only midnight,” he said, mimicking her move of leaning in close; making sure he slurred his words just enough. “Don’t you think it’s a little early for breakfast?”
Debbi giggled again as she grabbed his hand, pulling him from his stool.
“I’m sure we could find something too do until then.” She started to lead him towards the door. “Maybe work up a little appetite in the process.”
The rain had settle into a steady mist, seeming to glow like fog around the lights. The effect of the wetness on their faces seemed too sober them up a little.
Debbi leaned against the door of a red Jeep Cherokee, pulling him close too kiss him forcefully, her tongue rapping and dancing around his; their breathing grew more excited as they clawed at each other’s clothes. She moaned as he grabbed a handful of her breast, she reciprocated by grabbing him between the legs, feeling his hardness beneath his jeans.
“I want you,” she said breathlessly. “I want too feel your cock inside me.”
He kissed her hard again. She would get that and more.
“Where should we go?” he asked just as out of breath. “Is there a motel near here.“
Of course there was. He passed it on the way there. It was one of reasons he stopped. But Debbi surprised him when she said:
“I don’t live that far away.” She turned away and opened the door of the Cherokee. “Follow me to my place.”
True to her word she didn’t.
He followed Debbi along rain soaked streets he wouldn’t of guess where there if he would have drove through for not even five minutes. He pulled in behind her car into a driveway of run down ranch style house. She was out of the car and into the house by the time he got out of his. Light spilled from the door she left open.
The inside didn’t far much better than the out; the living room had a rustic country look, the carpet’s padding well worn down from years of foot traffic. He wondered how many men before had trodden along this path to Debbi’s room, or did they even bother to get that far. Just stopping at the couch or falling onto the carpet to fornicate like two animals in heat.
He shut the door behind him, strangely enough Debbi was nowhere to be found.
“Hello? Debbi?”
“I’ll be right there,” her voice called out from somewhere inside. She appeared a few moments later pantsless, her hanging shirt -now partially unbuttoned- barely covering her red bikini underwear. “Sorry, I really had to go pee.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. It happens to everyone.”
She bit her lower lip like a child who got caught doing something they weren’t suppose too. “So?”
“So.”
The moment turned slightly awkward. Neither one willing to make the first move for some reason.
“So,” he said again, “what did you have in mind until breakfast?”
Debbi smiled, turned and stepped through another door. “Why don’t you come here and find out.”
She pounced on him as soon as he was beyond the door. Kissing him hard once again, turning him as she did so, shoving him upon the bed. The springs squeaked as he bounced. Debbi wasted no time on undoing his pants; her attention solely on removing his manhood from his jeans. She grabbed his cock as it sprang free and instantly brought it to her mouth. He gasped as her tongue ran down the length of his hardness. The little slurping sounds she made drove him crazy, practically making him climax.
He took by her shoulders and flipped Debbi onto the bed, stripped off her panties, then buried his head greedily between her legs. Debbi responded immediately with load moans; digging her fingers into his head, through his hair, as he lapped at her wetness.
“Oh yes. Oh yes,” she screamed, eyes rolling back in her head. “Don’t stop! DON”T STOP! aaAAAHHH! AaaAAAAHHHHHAAAAaaa!”
Debbi pushed his head out from between her thighs, giggling.
He eased her further along the bed, then he took her arms -first the left then the right- and tied them to the headboard with some of discarded clothing that was strewn about.
“MMmm, I like a man who is forceful and knows what he wants.”
He took the scarf he saw lying on the side table and rapped it around her eyes, blindfolding her.
“I’ll be right back,” he told as he got up from the bed, “don’t go anywhere.”
Debbi laughed. “Don’t worry master. Do to me what you will.”
He returned to the room a few seconds after he left, got on the bed and slid himself deep inside her. Debbi let out a deep, sharp breath of pleasure as she felt his presence. He began a slow and steady rhythm at first that turned into a fierce motion, his body pounding into her’s. The headboard began to bang against the wall, the bed springs squeaked and squealed as he rode her, suckling breasts as he squeezed them. Her soft cries at first turned into savage moans:
“OH GOD! YES! OH YES! I LOVE IT LIKE THAT! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! I LOVE IT WHEN I’M FUCKED HARD! YES! YES! YES!”
He pulled himself up on his knees, plunging his hard cock deep as he could in Debbi, unleashing a long load moan of ecstasy. That’s when she felt something different, a cold sensation entering her abdomen that became searing and painful. Then Debbi felt it again and again and again. At the same moment that he began the rocking motion between her legs.
“WHAT TH-! HEY OWW! STOP! STOP!” Debbi screamed as he slashed down with the kitchen knife, slicing through her skin; digging deep into her stomach. “WHAT THE HELL…STOP! SOMEBODY HELP! HELP!”
Blood sprayed out with each thurst; he fell on top of her as he continued to fuck a stab Debbi, covering himself in her blood and gore. He felt so alive, so excited, so god like as he took Debbi’s life.
Her cries for help began to subside, too drift away. The knife sounded like he was lashing it against a wet sponge when he finally ended his onslaught. So carried away he became that he failed to even notice how much blood there was, how it covered him, the the wall and headboard, how it soaked into the bed until he got up from her and took everything in.
His breathing began too slow, going back to normal as the adrenaline wore off. It was like coming down from the altulment high. But unlike any drug always left him wanting more.
He strode from the room, gathering his clothes as he did, showered, then returned with a bottle of Vodka he found in the freezer, dosing Debbi and the bed with it. Then tossed the bottle next to her lifeless form; took a cigarette, lit it and took a long pull, trapping the smoke in his lungs for a moment before releasing it, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. Then flick the cigarette on the bed, igniting the alcohol. The bed, Debbi, and the room were fully engulfed when he exited.
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