He thought it odd she didn’t want him to undress while he banged her, but it was free, so what the hell. Who knew what went through the minds of whores? Especially the black ones.
She’d insisted on him climbing on top of her fully clothed. The horny bitch had hiked up her blue sequined dress revealing the unclad young snatch underneath. He’d arched his back so she could unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and push them down just far enough so he could shove his plumper into her. She was dry, but he’d put some ointment on any raw skin when he was done with her.
“Baby. Oh, baby. That’s the spot,” she finally purred, pushing her heels into the leather of the divan’s cushions, lifting her pelvis upwards.
Smiling, he closed his eyes and slammed it into her as hard as he thought he needed to. He could feel the stirring in his groin. It wouldn’t be long now. All he’d required to push him over the edge was to hear her moan, to know that he was leaving an impression with her of his sexual prowess.
Sweat beaded above his salt and pepper singular eyebrow and ran down his pocked nose, dripping like a leaky faucet down onto her. He could feel his juices moving now, preparing to explode into her.
“Give it to me,” a growl crawled from her throat. “Give it to me as hard as you can. Rip me up, baby. Tear me apart. Do it! Harder!”
He rammed it into her with everything he had. Thrusting his hips back and forth, his heart was pounding against his chest like a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil as he felt his eyes rolling back under his closed lids.
The thought flashed across his mind that maybe the exertion on his aging body wasn’t worth the effort. But he pushed it aside. The young ones weren’t availing themselves to him nearly as often as they used to. In business, food, and sex… never squander an opportunity to feast. Never leave the table unsatisfied.
“Open your eyes, baby. I want to see your eyes when you come in me.”
Obediently he willed the heavy lids open, vacuuming air into his overworked lungs as he readied himself for the pleasure of another orgasm, another meaningless conquest, another dark chocolate cunt screwed. Glancing down to have the satisfaction of watching her as he came, it wasn’t the pursed mouth begging for his cum that he expected. It was a can of pepper spray.
DA Kentner is an award winning author who also enjoys meeting and interviewing authors of many genres.
"The Caretaker", a 3,000 word short story, won 'Calliope' magazine's 18th annual short story competition. Click the blue ribbon to view their site and entry rules for this year's short fiction competition.
I wandered over here via the Absolute Write boards and just wanted to say, this was a fantastic bit of storytelling. Not much in fiction "grabs" me these days but this did. Bravo.
ReplyDeleteBarbara,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for the comment and for visiting my blog. Stop by anytime.