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Title: It Happened One Night
Alberta, Canada: The rig grinds to a halt in front of a ramshackle building that looks like it should have that yellow caution tape all around it and a big CONDEMNED sign plastered across the side. The lights coming from the inside tell me, however, that people are actually brave enough to be in there. I guess people like to live dangerously in this part of nowhere. "I thought you were taking me to Laughlin City?" I ask Reggie, the trucker nice enough to have given me a ride for the last few hundred miles. "This is Laughlin City," he replies almost apologetically. These people have a strange concept of the term *city* - somebody ought to hand the person who named this dump a dictionary. Well, Reggie is veering off in a different direction to where I'm heading, so I need to find a new ride. Reggie was cool and at least he kept his hands to himself. He told me he has a granddaughter my age. Every now and then I catch a break and hitch a ride with a guy who's not a pervert. Okay, so let's hope my luck holds out, although I seriously doubt it. Eight months on the road has taught me there's no such thing as good luck - only varying degrees of bad luck. For a city that doesn't look like its population even reaches triple digits, this place sure is crowded. The entire populace must be here tonight, so either this dump is *the* place to be or they're all desperate to inhale all this delightful second-hand smoke. They should hand out oxygen masks and portable tanks at the door. The Lung Association would have a field day with this place. There's some type of cage in the middle and that seems to be where all the action is, so I make my way over just in time to see some guy hit the concrete floor. Ouch, that would've hurt, if he hadn't already been unconscious. At that moment the guy who flattened him turns around and I catch my breath. Damn, that is one fine specimen of man. He's dressed in only a pair of faded jeans that are so tight I can see which way he *dresses*. My eyes burn a trail over his amazing bare chest and I instantly need a clean pair of panties. Crap, he's looking right at me. Even in the dim light and through the smoky haze, I can see that his eyes are green flecked with brown and at this moment they're burning right through me. I feel like I've been singed, the heat is that intense. The emcee makes an announcement that interrupts the sultry moment. "Gentlemen, in all my years... I've never seen anything like that... Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?" Another idiot jumps up and declares that he'll fight Mr. Wet Dream. As the man enters the cage, the walking definition of perfection gives me a wink before turning to face his latest victim. At first it seems that the other man is going to win as the hottie takes blow after blow. I'm mentally screaming, "Not in the face - don't hit his face." I guess the hottie's finished playing with the guy and decides to knock him out with a head jab. The other guy hits the concrete hard and Mr. Perfect Chest gives him a final kick before heading out of the cage. The emcee's voice booms out, "Ladies and gentlemen tonight's winner and still king of the cage, the Wolverine." The Wolverine steps out of the cage and starts to put his clothes back on. He slips on several layers and damn there goes my view. Meanwhile, I'm having dirty thoughts, as I imagine ripping those pesky layers right back off of him. I fantasize about how all those hard muscles would feel under my hands and mouth. How, with soft kisses, I'd follow the line of hair from his perfect chest all the way down his taut stomach and to the treasure currently hidden beneath tight denim. My body temperature suddenly rises several degrees. I need to be hosed down, but I'll have to settle for a cold drink. I head over to the bar with the faint hope that this place also serves something a little more solid than just liquid. Rummaging around in my pockets I come up with a grand total of $1.57. Hell, even the Grand Slam at Denny's is $2.99. Not that it would've done me any good anyway, the place doesn't serve food the bartender informs me. I order water and just give a weak smile when the bartender asks me if I want that on-the-rocks or not. Oh, ha ha, very funny. As he places the glass in front of me I'm tempted to ask how much it would cost to have it served in a clean glass - yuck, what's that floating in there? I toss the odd seven cents into the large glass jar with a hand written sign taped to it that reads "Tipping is not a city in China" - cute. Just then the object of my overly fertile imagination saunters over, sits down and orders a beer. Christ, he's even better looking close up. The bartender hands him a wad of cash - well, at least he can afford to ask for a clean glass. He glances over my way and I avert my eyes quickly. Not that I don't want to look, but my momma always told me it was rude to stare. I steal little peeks and find him looking at me each time. That's interesting. All kinds of rude thoughts continue floating through my lust-addled brain. Well, I *am* seventeen and apart from my mutation, a normal hormonal being after all. Anyway, the man could make a nun forget her vow of chastity he's that delectable. Just then the bartender interrupts my train of thought that's pleasantly hurtling toward Smutville. "You want something new, honey? Or are you sticking with water?" He asks, as he moves the tip jar further away from me. What does he think I'm gonna do, try to make a run for it with the whole ten bucks worth of coins in there? Yeah, like that would get me real far. "Listen, honey, you need some cash?" I guess I must've been eyeing that jar more than I realized. Does a fish need water? I'm tempted to answer. "Yes, I do." I reply instead. No need to get sarcastic, after all, maybe this guy will hand me a winning lottery ticket - yeah, right. "What if I told you I could get you a hundred bucks?" Oh oh, that kinda cash is usually only earned one way. Sorry, dude, lethal skin, you're outta luck. But visions of that much money prompts me to ask anyway. "How?" "Well, we could use a little *entertainment*, if you catch my drift." I don't, so I ask him to clarify himself and he does. He'll give me a hundred bucks if I go into the fighting cage, dance a little and end the song with all my clothes on the floor. That got the Wolverine's attention, and he's riveted on me, waiting for my answer. I think he wants to play I-showed-you-mine-now-you-show-me-yours. "Nobody touches me and all I gotta do is one song?" I ask. I wanna make sure we're clear on the rules. "One song - one hundred bucks and nobody lays a finger on you." Crap, I can't believe I'm even considering it, but that sure is a lot of money for what - five minutes tops? I could do that. It was like in that movie "Indecent Proposal" with Demi Moore, where she's offered a million bucks to sleep with Robert Redford. She tells her husband, it's just her body it's not her heart or her soul. Of course, this is only a lousy hundred bucks, but it's more money than I've seen in a hell of a long time. "Okay, I'll do it." I find myself saying. I take off my hooded coat and meander over to the jukebox. The emcee announces my imminent debut, calling me the Teenage Tease - charming. Although most of the guys back in Meridian would probably agree with that accurate description. So I wasn't the village bicycle - sue me. I peruse the limited selection (country, country and more country) finally finding one I think I can actually bump and grind to. And momma never thought those dance lessons would ever have any practical use! I make my selection and gingerly enter the cage. If I don't think about this too hard, I can get through the next five minutes without tossing the lunch Reggie was kind enough to feed me. The music starts and I begin swaying. I get the impression this crowd doesn't care too much about style, as long as my clothes hit the floor at a decent pace. I shut my eyes as I rotate my hips, but it's too bad I can't conveniently go selectively deaf, as I can still hear the wolf whistles and howling of my appreciative audience. Just do it, Marie - don't think, just get on with it. It was a rainy night So I pulled up along
side I didn't ask him his
name All I wanna do is
make love to you I start shedding layers and try to forget that Mr. Wet Dream is part of the crowd. Even with my eyes shut and hundreds of eyes fixed on me, it's his heated gaze that I feel caressing me and I hope he likes what he sees. So we found this hotel He brought the woman
out of me I told him, "I am
a flower, you are the sea." All I wanna do is
make love to you Ooh, we made love I'm down to my bra and panties and despite the heat from the fires burning in the metal trash cans scattered throughout the place, I can still feel a chill. I reach around to my back, unhook my bra and yank it off in one quick move. I also chose that exact moment to reopen my eyes, only to be greeted by smoldering hazel orbs that are consuming me with their heat, even from the distance of the other side of the cage. His luscious mouth is slightly turned up on one side in a hint of a smile. Oh, yeah, he definitely likes what he's seeing. Being only one flimsy piece of fabric away from being completely naked, he also sees the blush that started on my cheeks and has traversed my entire body. Oh my God, did he just lick his lips? My nipples harden as I imagine what that tongue could do to me. The crooked little smile is a little more prominent now. That's it, smile for me, honey. I'm practically having an orgasm watching him watching me. Then it happened one
day I said, "Please, please
understand All I wanna do is
make love to you All I wanna do is
make love to you All I wanna do is
make love to you Somebody from the crowd yells "Everything off, honey." Not wanting to risk losing my hundred bucks when I've already gone this far, I wiggle out of my panties. I mentally count to ten before grabbing my clothes, make a mad dash out of the cage and head for the ladies' room. Whew, I've done it. One hundred dollars, please and I'm outta here. I have a feeling I won't be short of offers of a ride, either. I get dressed quickly and return to the bar, where the bartender hands me the promised money and an offer of a nightly job, which I politely decline. As expected, I get offered plenty of rides. I look around to see if I can find Mr. Perfection, but he's nowhere in sight. I guess he wasn't that impressed after all. Well, I still need a ride, and if I can't get one with the only guy in this whole dump who I wouldn't mind jumping me, I better pick someone. I end up choosing a guy who looks the most harmless, or at least the one I think I can take on, should he decide to get perverted. We head out to his car, passing a broken down camper that looks a quart of oil and one tank of gas away from the junkyard. I don't realize my fantasy man is sitting behind the wheel watching me as I get into Wilbur's car. I know, Wilbur - how harmful could he be? Unfortunately, I'm about to find out. ---------------------------------------------------- Alberta, Canada Damn, I just had to get out of there before she came out of the bathroom or I'd be tempted to toss her over my shoulder, carry her out all caveman like and do incredibly pornographic things to her in my camper. Christ, she looks like she's just a kid, too. Although, that body sure ain't a kid's. Yep, definitely very grown up, a little skinny maybe, but there's some definite potential there. I picked her out the minute she entered that crummy dive - smelling like vanilla and fucking innocence. Not so innocent as I thought, once her clothes started hitting the floor. I didn't think she'd actually go for it when Jack made her the offer. She must've been real desperate for money. Poor kid. I would've offered her a ride, but I don't trust myself after I got a good look at her naked. If I wasn't in such a hurry to get to the next piece of shit town for tomorrow night's fight, I woulda stuck around, picked up someone that looked halfway fuckable, and pretended it was the little brunette temptress. Hey, looks like she found a ride. Guy looks harmless enough. He looks like an accountant or some other lame ass boring career twerp. That's probably why she chose him, 'cause he looks like someone a girl scout with attitude could kick the crap out of. A station wagon? The guy drives a station wagon? He's an even bigger dweeb than I thought. Yeah, she oughta be safe with him. They're heading north, too, so I guess I'll be right behind them. That's good, just in case I'm wrong about this moron. Okay, I'm just gonna hang back a little. Don't wanna be too obvious they've got company. I'll give 'em a five-minute head start.
Fuck! This guy must think this crappy little back road is the Indianapolis 500 Speedway, 'cause that shitty station wagon is nowhere in sight. I've had my foot to the floor for the past thirty minutes and I still haven't caught up to them. How goddamn fast is that asshole driving on this dark, icy road? I hope I don't find his car turned over in some ditch or wrapped around a pine tree further up the road. I hope the kid ain't scared 'cause that dweeb decides he wants to show off. If she's hurt, I'm gonna gut him real slowly. Well, at least I know he hasn't turned off onto another road, 'cause there are no other roads. That's the one good thing about being out in the middle of bumfucknowhere. Nowhere to go but straight ahead and there's no civilization for another hundred miles. Hey, what's that speck ahead? Looks like the dweeb's car. What's it doing parked? I pull up alongside the car to check out what's what and I notice it's empty. The passenger door is also open, so it looks like she got out quickly. So where's the dweeb and the girl? I get my answer when I hear a bloodcurdling scream coming from the trees. Oh, that idiot had to be kidding. I take off in the direction of the girl's screams. That bastard is about thirty seconds away from having a claw in a very uncomfortable place. I reach a clearing and find the girl pinned to the ground by Mr. Can't Keep It In His Pants, whose about to get an important part of his anatomy separated from the rest of his body. I literally pounce on him, yank him off of her and toss him against the nearest tree. He crumples to the ground as I unsheath all six claws. Damn, I think he's unconscious. It's not gonna be any fun if he's not aware of what I'm gonna do to him. I grab him by the front of his jacket, yank him to his feet and shake him real hard. Hey, asshole, I want you awake for this. Guess he musta hit that tree harder than I thought cause he ain't coming around, even though I'm shaking him hard enough to scramble his pea brain. Just then I notice that the fucker actually had his fly undone and his dick out - his laughably small dick. Christ, even if he'd managed to stick it in, she probably wouldn't have felt it. The jerk's also uncircumcised. I sheath all but a single claw and change that, leaving a jagged wound, but hell, I wasn't going for neatness and precision. I drop him back on the ground and give him a sharp kick in the ass for good measure. Gee, I hope he regains consciousness before he bleeds to death or that might be embarrassing for his next-of-kin for him to be found like that. Satisfied that I've taught him a lesson about attacking vulnerable young girls, I turn to check on her. She's shaking and trying to pull herself together. That asshole had actually gotten as far as ripping her shirt. Maybe I'll just go back over to him and slice his dick off altogether. Lucky for him, I decide to make her my priority. I hold out my hand to help her up. She looks up at me with wide chocolate eyes that reflect pure naked fear. Crap, she's probably afraid of me, too after what she just witnessed. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid," I tell her in a voice I hope is gentle and calm. She looks around, like she's gonna make a run for it. Hey, taking a jog in the forest at midnight ain't a real good idea, honey. Of course, even if she did bolt, I could catch her with little effort. I think she realizes that and places a small, gloved hand in my larger one. I pull her to her feet and still holding her hand, steer her back toward the road. Okay, she's not putting up any resistance, that's good. "Thank you," she says in almost a whisper. "You okay?" I ask. "Yeah. You arrived before he got a chance to do anything more than cop a feel." I think about those perfect breasts that I got an eyeful of back at the Lion's Den and swallow hard. We reach my truck and she gets in on the passenger side willingly. Good, she's smart enough to realize this ain't exactly a well-traveled part of the country and she could be sitting on the side of the road until she froze to death. So I guess my warm truck, even with its apparently psychotic owner, looks the better option. Life really sucks when it gives you nothing but shitty choices. We drive for a while in silence. I steal a look at her out of the corner of my eye. She really is a cute little thing - all eyes and pouty little mouth that looks very kissable. Yep, I bet those lips would feel real good suctioned onto mine. "You don't have anything to eat, do you?" she asks, finally breaking the quiet. I reach over to the glove compartment and pull out a bag of beef jerky. She removes her leather gloves and starts shoveling it in like it's the best damn steak she's ever had, instead of leathery strips of pure junk. I don't even know why I bought the stuff, other than I'm not the Hostess cupcakes eating type and sometimes a person just has to have a certain amount of junk food available. "Try actually chewing it first," I joke. "Sorry. I just haven't eaten for over twelve hours. Then it was only a McDonald's quarter-pounder and the first thing I'd eaten in two days. Reggie, that's the trucker who gave me the ride as far as Laughlin City, bought it for me and I was too embarrassed to tell him I was still hungry." Jeez, the poor kid. That explains why she grabbed the chance to earn a quick hundred bucks. It's probably more money than she's seen in a long time. A cute little thing like her should be living somewhere in suburbia, in a bedroom filled with those stuffed animals girls like and worrying about what to wear to the prom - not dropping her panties on the floor of some shithole 'cause she hasn't eaten in days. I'd like to kill whoever's responsible for pitching her out onto the street to fend for herself. "I'm Rogue. Were you in the army? Doesn't...Doesn't that mean you were in the army?" she asks, pointing at the dogtag hanging around my neck. It's not something I want to explain to her right now, so I simply tuck it under my shirt - end of conversation about 'that'. Good, she got the hint, 'cause now she's looking back into the camper. "Wow." "What?" I ask. "Suddenly my life doesn't look that bad." That's rude. So I reply, "Hey, if you'd prefer the road." "No, no. It looks great.... Looks cozy." Okay, that's better. Don't go insulting the only mode of transportation within a hundred mile radius. She's rubbing her hands together. It is kinda chilly in here, so I turn the heater up. "Put your hands on the heater," I tell her, as I reach for her hands, but she jerks them away quickly. "I'm not gonna hurt you, kid." "It's nothing personal. It's just that... when people touch my skin, something happens." "What?" I ask. My curiosity piqued. "I don't know. They just get hurt." Well, there are ways around that, honey. I'm a creative man, I think to myself, but out loud I simply reply, "Fair enough." "When they come out... does it hurt?" she asks, referring to the claws. "Every time. So what kind of a name is Rogue?" "I don't know. What kind of a name is Wolverine?" Is she being sassy with me? God, she's adorable. "My name's Logan." "Marie." Terrific. Now we both know what to scream out during sex. Shit! She's just survived one rape attempt and I'm thinking with my dick. She's way too delectable and I'm in big trouble, 'cause I got a hard-on that won't quit. I tear my eyes away from her and refocus on the road. Well, I try to anyway, but visibility is dropping rapidly as a sudden storm has blown in. We're gonna have to pull over and wait it out. I pull us off the road and kill the engine. I better stay in the front cab or I could end up with a foot in my groin, as she has to make a second escape tonight from yet another sex-crazed lunatic. She's so damn cute that I bet Mr. No Longer Has A Foreskin isn't the first to try something with her. Well, I certainly have no intentions on forcing myself on her, not matter how much I wanna be inside of her. I may be many things, but in the fifteen years my memory goes back, a rapist ain't one of 'em. "There's an air mattress in the back." I inform her. "Where are you gonna sleep?" she asks. "I'll stay here in the front." Hmmm, she seems vaguely disappointed or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part. She goes into the camper and starts to change her clothes. "No peeking," she jokes. I adjust the rear view mirror and shamefully watch her. When she's down to nothing but her birthday suit, it takes all my willpower not to join her and show her all my creative ideas for getting around the skin issue. Luckily for my sanity she pulls on a pair of sweats, a long-sleeved top and some socks. Settling down on the mattress she calls out a sweet little good night to me, as I try to arrange my six foot three inch frame across the short bench in the front cab. She hears me shifting around attempting to get comfortable and says something that will prove to be my undoing. "This is ridiculous. Why don't you come back here and sleep, there's plenty of room on this thing." Hey, I don't need to be asked twice and in less than ten seconds I'm lying next to her, breathing in the scent of soft vanilla. To say that things were about to get real interesting is an understatement. ----------------------------------------------All Of You -Duet with Diana Ross and Julio Iglesias I've never had this feeling before If you would like to stay here
all night All of you, your body and soul How I long to feel the warmth of
your touch And when we're lying close in the
dark
Logan's POV: I can't believe I charged back here so fast, talk about being fucking obvious. She's lying on her side with her back to me, trying to ignore my enthusiasm to her invitation. I shift around a little deciding on a position that will give me the least temptation to touch her. Then I realize I'd have to 'position' myself in the trailer attached to the back of the truck for that to be possible. My hip brushes against her cute little ass and that whisper of contact makes me hard. Shit. I'm in deep, deep trouble here. I take another whiff of vanilla and something else - pheromones. Christ, she's aroused. So I gotta decide if I'm gonna be a complete bastard and take advantage of that knowledge or be a gentleman. That's another word nobody would use to describe me - gentleman. Bastard, yes. Gentleman, no. She shifts and her top rides up a bit, exposing a sliver of creamy skin on her back, just above the top of her sweats. I wanna run my hand up her spine, back down again, under those sweats and onto her sweet little ass. Then I wanna slide my hand around to the front and between her legs. I turn onto my side, scoot closer to her and spoon her into me. Which turns out to be a bad idea, 'cause now my erection is pressed into her back and the thought of us being separated by only two pieces of fabric makes me even harder. She gives a wiggle that has a caressing effect on my dick. Okay, so now I'm hard to the point it's hurting. I think it would be a little rude of me to unzip and start relieving myself, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna step outside in minus-God-knows-what-degrees just to jerk off. What I should do is go outside and toss myself in a snowbank - that would cool me off in a hurry, kinda like a cold shower, only quicker. "How old are you?" I find myself asking her. "Old enough," she replies softly. Crap. I just got even harder. I didn't think that was possible. I sit up and shuck off the leather jacket, the jean jacket and the flannel shirt - did it just get hotter in here? The little vixen turns over, looks up at me and gives me a smile that makes me wanna puddle on the floor. "You better keep your clothes on, 'cause of my skin," she reminds me. "Long as you stay dressed, I could be buck naked," I find myself telling her. "Suit yourself," she replies with a cheeky little grin. Is that a challenge? She doesn't realize that I love a good challenge. I'm sorely tempted to pull off the long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans that are all that's left of my clothes, I gave up on underwear a long time ago - just one more thing to wash. She's staring at me with those liquid chocolate eyes in a definitely challenging way and I can smell her arousal just kicked up a notch. I wanna make love to her and I think she wants me too. Time to get creative, Logan. She'd tipped the contents of her duffel bag out in her search for a change of clothes and I notice a piece of sheer material in the pile. I reach over her and pick it up. It's a scarf. That'll work. I float it down over her face and before she has time to react, I'm pressing my mouth against hers. She catches on fast and returns the kiss. When she parts her lips slightly, I take the opportunity to invade her mouth with my tongue, taking the scarf with me. She reaches up and runs a gloved hand through my hair as the kiss deepens. I'm drowning in sensation. How the hell can just a kiss feel so damn good? I haven't even touched her yet and I'm ready to ruin a clean pair of jeans. If this is the tip of the iceberg, I'm in for one mind blowing experience tonight. We break for air and then dive back onto each other's mouths again immediately. When we come up for air a second time a thought flashes through my mind. "You're not just doing this 'cause you think you owe me for the ride or saving you from that moron back there, are you?" "Do I 'owe' you for the ride and saving me?" "Of course not." "So you do this all the time, drive around the country saving damsels in distress, giving them rides and you finance this endeavor by kicking rednecks' asses? Interesting career choice." "Well, the uniform is cool." She gives me a quizzical look. "Yellow spandex. It's at the cleaners," I clarify with a grin, as she lets out a little giggle. She has a cute giggle, but then I find everything about her endearing. "How long have you been on the road by yourself?" "Eight months," she replied with a hint of sadness. "How old are you really, Marie?" I ask again. "Why's it so important?" "Cause it could make the difference between me being a seducer and a pedophile." "I'm seventeen." Seventeen. Not legal. That's what I was afraid of. I'm not exactly the most law-abiding citizen, but even I have lines that I don't cross - usually. "So, are you close to being eighteen?" I ask hopefully, "Like maybe your birthday's tomorrow?" "I'll be eighteen in ten months, Logan." Shit - not even fucking close. She must see the disappointment etched on my face because she gives me a bemused half smile. "Logan, in the past eight months a lot of good Samaritans have tried to force 'payment' out of me. If I haven't been able to convince them it would be in their best interest not to touch me, less than a minute of actual skin-to-skin contact usually does the trick. You're the first person I've met that I actually want to 'be' with." "You're just a baby," I practically sulk out. "Back home in Meridian I was the last of my circle of friends that was still a virgin. By comparison, I'm still an old maid." "You're still a virgin?" Crap, this was getting worse, she's young AND innocent. "How did you manage to.... you know....... avoid losing it?" "I told you killer skin - not just a killer bod." "There are ways around that, if you're creative." Shit, did I just say that out loud? "Well, men that pick up hitchhikers aren't the sharpest crayons in the box. Present company excluded, of course. Anyway, I guess nobody had enough brains to figure it out, luckily for me. So here I am, all nice and intact." And here I am, all primed, ready and wanting to be first. All men keep a mental checklist of fantasies and being someone's first, was one I hadn't fulfilled yet. I'd already done the two women at once one, which is a hellava lot more work than I thought it would be. Doing it outside - done that one, too. Although, I don't recommend anyone try that one in winter, 'cause I almost got frostbite on a very important part. Summertime is much more conducive to outdoor fun - grass stains on my ass or sand 'up' my ass I could handle, but I learned my lesson about wintertime activities when my dick turned blue. Just then Marie interrupts my train of thought with a very direct question. "Do you wanna make love to me, Logan?" Do bears shit in the woods? "Yes, Marie. I do," I answer instead. Then she says the sweetest words I've ever heard. "Good. Because I wanna make love to you, too." That's when I realize what was left of my morals fell out of the truck when we hit that last pothole. I place the scarf back over her mouth and ravish her again. She slips her hand under my t-shirt and caresses my chest and stomach. As we continue making out, I run my hand over the outside of her thermal top, up her ribcage and cup what I've been thinking about since Laughlin City. She's not too small and not too big. She's perfect. I flick my thumb over the nipple and feel it peak beneath my touch. We've entwined our legs and mashed our bodies together. Our still fully clothed bodies. I'll have to do something about that. One of us is about to get naked and my preference is, it's her. I start to unbutton the thermal top, when she grabs a hold of my wrist. "You can't touch me with your bare hands. Unless you wanna spend the rest of the night unconscious," she reminds me. Hell, no. I wanna be wide awake for this, baby. I remember my driving gloves sitting on the dashboard and get up to retrieve them. I'm not typically a glove wearing kinda guy, but these ultra thin brown ones just appealed to me somehow. Although, I hardly ever wear them, now I'm sure glad I bought them. I settle myself back down on the mattress and my now protected hands resume unbuttoning her top. Spreading the cotton fabric apart I get my second look at her beautiful breasts - ivory globes topped with the sweetest little nipples that are just begging to be kissed. So I do. I lean down and stroke each one with my tongue, just quickly enough for her skin not to react, except to make them harden into little nubs. Marie lets out a low groan and arches her back, pushing her breasts toward me invitingly. I wanna lavish them with attention, so I place the scarf over her breasts and proceed to press kisses to them through the thin fabric. I then put my hands into the waistband of the sweat pants and pull them off of her hips and down her legs. No panties. Good, one less step. I spread her legs and move the scarf lower, using it to protect myself while I taste her at the source of her intoxicating scent. I worry that I'm moving too fast, taking advantage of her arousal. She's moaning and writhing in response to my ministrations now, but will she regret it in the bright light of the morning? This is not some slutty cage-fighting groupie I picked up for a quick fuck and forget. Okay, so maybe I do have a moral or two left. Just then she comes hard and I have to hold her legs apart to stop the bare skin of her thighs from coming into contact with my face. "Are you really sure you wanna do this, baby?" I ask, as I slide up so I'm kneeling in front of her. "I'm..... positive..... Logan," she pants out. Okay, so asking her while she's still shaking from the orgasm I just gave her probably wasn't fair. "We can wait until we get to the next town. Find a motel. Have a proper bed." "Logan," She props herself up on her elbows and looks me straight in the eye, "I want you NOW Goddamnit and I don't give a shit about some motel mattress that's been fucked on a thousand times anyway." Good point. She ends further debate by reaching for the front of my jeans and the bulge that makes my position on the issue clear. She gives me a saucy look as she slides the zipper down, her eyes never breaking contact with mine as she reaches in and makes first contact. Oh. My. God. She's touching me and I'm in paradise. She's stroking me gently and I have to concentrate so I don't embarrass myself with premature ejaculation. It doesn't help when she lets out a low-moaning, good-for-my-ego, "Wow". Glad you like it, baby, it's all for you. She maneuvers 'it' and I'm free of the confining jeans. Oh, yeah, that feels so much better. She's looking at it, studying it with fascination - eyes all big and wide with curiosity. Then she says something that almost makes me laugh. "That's gonna hurt." I flash a kiss across her lips and tell her, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." "I trust you, Logan," she tells me, but still looks a little worried. I reach into my back pocket, pull out my wallet and retrieve one of the little foil packets I always carry. Yeah, I'm a real boy scout - always prepared. I tear open the packet with my teeth, remove the little disc and sheath myself efficiently. I look at Marie and the fear has been replaced by excited anticipation. Good, 'cause I don't wanna take her if she's even the slightest bit scared. I want this to be a good memory for her. Most of the women I've been with have been quick fucks that don't require 'warming up'. Sometimes I get them to give me blowjobs, but I rarely bothered worrying about their needs. If they didn't get off, too, I didn't care. Marie is different. I want her to experience pleasure and make her first time a memorable experience for the right reasons. I wanna make love to her, not just fuck her. Time to resume foreplay and make sure she's beyond ready. I worship her body with my hands and mouth until the scarf's so wet it's sticking to her. Guess I must be doing okay with this seeing-to-her-needs stuff, 'cause she's moaning all breathy, which is driving me wild. Then amidst the whimpering, she says one word that makes my heart leap. "Please." I position myself and enter her wet heat slowly. I ease in until I hit the inevitable barrier. Looking directly at her, my eyes ask the silent question. When she nods in the affirmative, I push through as she squeezes her eyes shut tight and bites down on her lower lip. A slight whimper escapes from her lips and then I see her face relax again. She arches her back and raises that gorgeous little ass off the mattress and I slide in to the hilt. Being wrapped in her tightness is making me lose all coherent thought. I call out her name, but I think I've forgotten my own. "Logan," she moans. Oh, yeah, that's my name, thanks for the reminder. She wiggles and I give a little thrust. She wiggles some more and I thrust a little more. When she wraps her legs around me, I cup her delicate little ass and increase the rhythm of my thrusts. I maneuver myself so that my cock rubs against the little bud I know is her magic button. I was halfway gone before we got to this phase, so I try to hold back, wanting her to peak before I allow myself release. "Oh, God, Logan," she cries out so sexily, doing nothing to help my control. I stop nibbling on her neck through the scarf, to whisper her name in her ear. She's so close I can smell the change in her body chemistry as her orgasm begins. We may be in Canada, but as she comes, she screams loud enough for people to hear her in South America. Of course, I'm not much quieter when I explode right after her. I collapse against her, utterly exhausted, as she wraps her arms around me and holds me tight. I bury my face in her neck, as I will my heart rate back to normal. "That was amazing," she informs me. "You're amazing," I reply. And for the first time in memory, it's not just a line - I really mean it. I knew at that moment I'd do anything for her, including laying down my life for her. She was never going to have to worry about having to rely on strangers anymore, 'cause I was gonna take care of her from now on. She pulled her clothes back on for warmth and then we snuggled under the blanket and fell asleep curled around each other. |