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“It’s no big deal. Right?”
“Sure, but…”
“So?”
He leads me across the street and into the darkness of the alley. Even under the dusting of snow, it’s filthy.
Before I step into the alley, I turn and check that it can’t be seen from the street. Especially not from across the street. Not from the hardware store, in particular. Walking ahead of me, he shouts loud into the alley, “Are you fuckers in here?”
I’m startled. Two bikers storm out from behind a row of dumpsters. Huge, savage and furious, they rush at him.
And he was expecting them. In no hurry, like he has all the time in the world, he slams his fist into the middle of the first one’s face. He grabs the second biker’s jacket by the lapels and swings him hard against the brick wall, leans into his face, and snarls.
“Is this how you fuckers make a deal? Where I’m from, we’d turn you into hamburger for this.” He hurls the man to the ground. “Get the fuck out of my sight and tell your cocksucking sissy biker pals if they want to do business with me to do it straight and not fuck about.”
He seems to forget about the two bikers instantly as they start to scramble away, out of the alley.
I shouldn’t be turned on by watching that, seeing him do violence for no reason I can see, right in front of me.
The bikers were big men, though. I would have found them pretty terrifying. Would have if I hadn’t just seen them cower under his snarls and show the Boneyard Warriors patches on their backs as they scurried away, practically on all fours, flinching to look back, wide-eyed, over their shoulders.
I’m breathing hard. I’m shaking.
He looks in my eyes as he pins me to the wall. “Now I’m going to fuck you.”
Need swells in my breasts. My hips rock. I’m so hot, I grab the bulge in the front of his jeans. Squeeze it. Hard. My filthy mind brims with ideas of how a dirty, frantic few minutes could go in this dark alley.
His hand goes up my skirt.
He grins at how wet I am. “Oh, angel.”
My neck stretches. I reach my mouth at him. His lips seize on mine. We kiss like it’s a struggle, a wrestle, a desperate life and death battle.
I rub and pull on his cock, squeezing. Hard.
His fingers pull up over my channel. Pivot and buzz around my soaking clit. Around. Above. Over. Under. Sideways. Down. My wet lips swell and part. He pushes, finding my rhythm.
Pressing up and along the seam, the underside of his cock, I shove the pad of my thumb up. Feeling the pulse. The hardness. Finding where he’s sensitive at the base. And his touch point, about a third of the way from the bottom of the scoop in his bulb.
I watch his face. Solid. Like granite. But I find his reaction in the tiny sparks in his dark eyes. As soon as I see it, I press. His breath quickens.
He presses his chest against me. Takes a long wet kiss. He’s moving his fingers more attentively. Trilling and chasing me, up to a height. A plateau. A ledge.
Two can play that game, biker brute. I rake my fingernails up his stomach, then push as I drag the backs of the nails back down. My other hand is squeezing and pulling. Down. Fast. Hard. All while my thumb presses up under his bulb.
His fingers run over my opening now, sliding deep. From front to back. Making me moan. And he knows just when to change the rhythm, turn it. Catch me unawares. Make me catch my breath. Damn him. My hips rock.
“Give in?” His tongue slips across his sardonic lips. “Ready to give it up for the fuck of a lifetime?”
I plunge my hand into his pants, holding back my emotions, as hard as I can. I know I’m going to come soon, but I’ll hold it back a little longer. I grab his cock in my fist. Excitement surges through my core like a chemical bolt of electricity.
I grip him tight, all the way down at the base. I rip the front of his fly open with my other hand. I pump as I dive down to blow. Just blow, with my lips in a wide ‘O.’
Not touching. Not with my mouth. Only my fist and my cool breath. My hot, pumping fist. I’m going to come.
When pre-cum glistens on his crown, I’m already trembling. But I put my mouth close. My breath patters. I stretch my tongue out, near enough that I can feel his heat. I can taste him on the air.
He jerks. Groans. Convulses. I catch his cum as it hoses. Close my mouth over him. Lap the sticky, salty bolts of hot funk. I drag my lips over his head in one long, backward, sucking kiss as he shoots.
