Yesterday, i posted part one of this story (Aqua). Again, i wrote this to try to process things from my life… and when i recollected time with Mr. X… i had bias (of course). It seemed important to me to give him every benefit of the doubt… and that’s what “Marine” was all about. What if he wasn’t a total jerk? Was there any way for me to imagine the same events without him as the villain? i tried.
It was quiet when he stepped inside the front door…nobody but the dog there to greet him. He was tired as shit. He grabbed a joint out of his box and popped open a beer. What a fuckin day. Nothing cooking on the stove, where the hell was she? He wandered over to the stairs and heard the shower running. Oh yeah- perfect. He watched a neighbor out the front window as he finished his beer. After a long draw, he pinched off his smoke and climbed the steps quietly.
Before he even got to the top, he could hear her hummin. Years ago, someone had told her she couldn’t sing worth a damn, and she believed them. He’d only heard her sing a couple of times, but she was always hummin. It sounded like something from church. He kicked towards the dog and it scurried down the stairs. Steam billowed out into the hallway when he quietly stepped inside and pushed the door shut behind him.
Shit, he was ready. She was mixing up those bath oils or whatever she used and the whole bathroom smelled like a damn fruit salad. That didn’t bother him though. He tried, but couldn’t make out her outline. He hated that shower curtain and nearly flung the damn thing wide-ass open. No, he’d surprise her. She’d like that. He loved her fresh from the shower. Hot and pliable. He wished she’d hurry the fuck up. What did she do in there? She was in for a fuck tonight…
He could hear her straightening up the shampoo bottles. He’d never met anybody who took twice as long to clean the shower as to use the damn thing. Finally, she turned off the water. He saw her hand fumble for the curtain, pull it back. She began stepping out of the tub, and looked up quickly. “You scared the shit outta me!” she gasped. Oh fuck- she looked great! He wanted to be in her, on her, and beneath her, all at once. Shit-
He told her how beautiful she looked, standing there with trickles of water snaking between her tits, a tiny bit of soap suds clinging to her left shoulder. She reached for a towel. “Oh baby, don’t bother drying off,” he winked, “I’m just gonna get you wetter.” He could see the desire in her eyes. He started tugging at his tie. He wanted to crush her, consume her; he wanted her so bad he could taste her sex.
He told her he loved her,
Told her he needed her,
Told her he had thought about being with her all day long.
She sighed. He reached for her and drew her to him. It was exquisite. He had the perfect buzz, and she was slick and hot in his hands. He could feel her nipples through his shirt, her soft belly melting against him, her hips pressed against his thighs. He dipped his head down, catching hold of her neck…sucking, licking, nibbling …her pulse throbbing against his mouth.
She was moaning, grinding against him. Hell, she was on tonight. She wanted it fast, no bullshit. He loved it when she was like this. She slid her hands up his stomach and took his chest in her hands. Kneading and stroking, circling his nipples, driving him mad. He couldn’t get any fucking harder, and if she didn’t stop he was gonna cum all over himself.
He grabbed her wrist to slow her. He wanted her to see what he saw, how beautiful she was, how hot she looked. “Look at us,” he gestured. “Watch.” She turned to look in the cloudy mirror. Oh hell, her hair laid down her neck and shoulders in slippery tendrils, little beads of water still rolling down from their tips and onto her back. His eyes slipped down her spine, her ass was flushed and he thought for a moment that he would die if he didn’t have it. Be patient. Maybe you’ll get lucky. Don’t push it. Make her want it.
He pulled her hair to the side and dove into the back of her neck. Teasing her, lapping and sucking. She loved that shit. It was like her ears, below her tits, her back, behind her knees…He had memorized each and every one of the spots that made her raise up off the bed to meet his mouth. He loved it. They were like buttons. Little switches he could throw to make her feel good, make her get crazy, get her wet in seconds.
Shit-she was arching her back. Her ass pressed against him-she was ready. He had to touch her. He fumbled with his zipper, feeling like a teenager in a parked car. He had to feel her, laying his dick right in the cradle of her ass cheeks, wishing he had a camera handy. It had been so long since she let him have her ass. He was tired of begging for it all the time. If she wanted it, let her ask for it.
“Use the oil,” she whispered shyly, explaining it had been awhile. She was so quiet.. God, he loved this girl. He took a deep breath, reaching over to the shelf, popping open the lid of the old Johnson and Johnson. He trickled a stream of it down her back. Watched it make its way to her ass, agonizingly slow. He was about to explode. He wanted it to feel good for her. He slid his left hand around and took hold of her pussy, toying with it, soft and slick. His right hand wandered all over her ass, rubbing oil in and around, thinking this was heaven. Handful of pussy-handful of ass…
She was grinding her ass back against his hand, catching his cock up, making him nuts. She must really want this tonight. Sweet Jesus. He wasn’t about to disappoint her. He rubbed his palm up and down his cock, forcing just the tip of it in her tight asshole.
“Watch us,” he begged her. Her shoulders were heaving, she was breathing hard… it was fantastic. “Watch,” he urged, He slid in deeper, pinning her up against the vanity edge. He could see her faintly through the steam; eyes fixed on their reflections. “Don’t close your eyes,” he begged…
Deeper and deeper. Tighter than a mother fucker… slow at first; he didn’t want to hurt her. She was relaxing, yielding to him. She was hot, electric, mewing like a kitten. He heard the low moans as he filled her up. He wanted to stay like this forever. So deep in her, her whole body shuddering. Like a terrified animal or something. He was stroking her clit in earnest now. She was so close to the edge. Pushing her ass back against his balls. He fought not to cum, watching her image become clearer and clearer.
She looked like an angel. Pale in the bright light. Her face, her neck, her tits flushed with vivid color. Sobs catching in her throat, her stomach ripe, her tits begging to be touched. She was going to cum any second, oh, hell no…she was there. He could see her eyes, confused, glazed. She threw her head and weight back against him with a growl and he grabbed her breasts, suspending her. He fucked her as hard as he could, wishing he could have her all at once. Her mouth, her hands, her womb, her ass. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to hold her and cry. He shot up in her and pulled out slowly. He wished he could just hold her, but knew she would want to wash up.
She watched him stand in front of the sink, watched him wash his cock. He thought that was weird. Shit, maybe she didn’t get enough. He couldn’t think of what to say. He smiled at her and pulled the door shut as he left. As he walked down the stairs, he wondered what she would cook for dinner. He needed a beer, another smoke.
He would watch some t.v. He heard the shower come on again, and smiled.
He felt lucky.
Jezebel (Reverend Horton Heat)