not me.
Well, I’d gotten my wish, all right. I was important to him. Just then, I was more important than anyone or anything else in his entire world. He wanted me, and he scared me. I aroused him, I excited him, and I terrified him.
No, he wouldn’t call me boring, he wouldn’t be more captivated by the next woman that he met, of that I was certain.
“And then you can get rid of me, right, and be on your way?” I didn’t actually want an answer. Really, I could have left right then. I’d accomplished most of what I’d set out to do, and the final scare wasn’t necessary. I wasn’t sure that I could do it, at any rate.
But, rather perversely, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to fade from his memory just yet, nor did I want him to fade from mine. So I simply shifted restlessly on the seat, trying to find a comfortable position on the sticky vinyl.
It pissed me off that I was falling under his spell instead of vice versa. When I spoke again, it was with a deliberate huskiness intended to make his spent cock perk up and take notice again, despite his new wariness.
It worked.
“What’s the wildest thing that you’ve ever done, Brody?” My words were soft, sensuous, velvety. I watched as his words stuck in his mouth. He remained mute, but his traitorous cock decided to stand at full attention, a fact that didn’t escape my notice, tenting the front of his pants as it did.
Taking his silence for reluctance, and with new resolve stiffening my spine, I trailed a finger up his thigh, raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Come on, you must have done something,” I prodded. “Something, anything. Snuck into the ladies’ locker room? Jerked off in public? Killed someone?” His thigh tensed at the last, and I just laughed, a joyless sound with a cruel, mocking edge, as my fingers traced patterns on the faded denim.
Finally fed up, his voice was deliberately harsh, “Some might think that getting a blowjob from a crazy stripper on the side of the road in the middle of a summer storm is pretty wild. Maybe not, though, you tell me.”
I was startled by the change in his personality though I shouldn’t have been. I’d been pushing him toward the edge all night. He continued, even as my nails dug into his thigh, a bit. “What have you done that’s so wild? There must be something, or you wouldn’t have asked the question. Come on, then.” He leaned back in the seat, apparently prepared to listen to whatever it was that I would come up with, but the posture and tone of voice smacked just a bit too much of Kyle’s reticent attitude recently—they landed perilously close to home. I sat straight up, sharp little daggers of temper shooting out of my eyes.
“You think I don’t have a story?” I spat out the words, tamping down my temper.
“No, I’m quite sure that you do. That’s why I asked.” His nonchalance threw me off track; wary, I lay back in my seat too, and began to speak, temper still simmering, just below the surface.
It was on. I wasn’t going to feel like this, no, not ever again.
“All right, then, but just remember that that you asked for it.”
He simply smirked, and it fortified my resolve. Licking a tongue that still tasted of salt and semen over my lips, I began to recount the story that I’d concocted earlier that day, when I’d stormed out of my house, revenge on my mind.
“For the past few years, after every big argument that my boyfriend and I have had, we go for a nice long drive. A makeup date night, I guess you could call it.” I paused for a breath, thought back to earlier that afternoon, and grimaced inwardly.
I continued. “We drive until it gets dark, until we find a nice back road, one that’s pretty quiet—but one where we know that a car will drive by at some point.”
I watched with my peripherals as Brody shifted uneasily, crossing his arms before uncrossing them, tugging at his shirt, readjusting his glasses.
“I get out of the car, and my
Well, I’d gotten my wish, all right. I was important to him. Just then, I was more important than anyone or anything else in his entire world. He wanted me, and he scared me. I aroused him, I excited him, and I terrified him.
No, he wouldn’t call me boring, he wouldn’t be more captivated by the next woman that he met, of that I was certain.
“And then you can get rid of me, right, and be on your way?” I didn’t actually want an answer. Really, I could have left right then. I’d accomplished most of what I’d set out to do, and the final scare wasn’t necessary. I wasn’t sure that I could do it, at any rate.
But, rather perversely, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to fade from his memory just yet, nor did I want him to fade from mine. So I simply shifted restlessly on the seat, trying to find a comfortable position on the sticky vinyl.
It pissed me off that I was falling under his spell instead of vice versa. When I spoke again, it was with a deliberate huskiness intended to make his spent cock perk up and take notice again, despite his new wariness.
It worked.
“What’s the wildest thing that you’ve ever done, Brody?” My words were soft, sensuous, velvety. I watched as his words stuck in his mouth. He remained mute, but his traitorous cock decided to stand at full attention, a fact that didn’t escape my notice, tenting the front of his pants as it did.
Taking his silence for reluctance, and with new resolve stiffening my spine, I trailed a finger up his thigh, raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Come on, you must have done something,” I prodded. “Something, anything. Snuck into the ladies’ locker room? Jerked off in public? Killed someone?” His thigh tensed at the last, and I just laughed, a joyless sound with a cruel, mocking edge, as my fingers traced patterns on the faded denim.
Finally fed up, his voice was deliberately harsh, “Some might think that getting a blowjob from a crazy stripper on the side of the road in the middle of a summer storm is pretty wild. Maybe not, though, you tell me.”
I was startled by the change in his personality though I shouldn’t have been. I’d been pushing him toward the edge all night. He continued, even as my nails dug into his thigh, a bit. “What have you done that’s so wild? There must be something, or you wouldn’t have asked the question. Come on, then.” He leaned back in the seat, apparently prepared to listen to whatever it was that I would come up with, but the posture and tone of voice smacked just a bit too much of Kyle’s reticent attitude recently—they landed perilously close to home. I sat straight up, sharp little daggers of temper shooting out of my eyes.
“You think I don’t have a story?” I spat out the words, tamping down my temper.
“No, I’m quite sure that you do. That’s why I asked.” His nonchalance threw me off track; wary, I lay back in my seat too, and began to speak, temper still simmering, just below the surface.
It was on. I wasn’t going to feel like this, no, not ever again.
“All right, then, but just remember that that you asked for it.”
He simply smirked, and it fortified my resolve. Licking a tongue that still tasted of salt and semen over my lips, I began to recount the story that I’d concocted earlier that day, when I’d stormed out of my house, revenge on my mind.
“For the past few years, after every big argument that my boyfriend and I have had, we go for a nice long drive. A makeup date night, I guess you could call it.” I paused for a breath, thought back to earlier that afternoon, and grimaced inwardly.
I continued. “We drive until it gets dark, until we find a nice back road, one that’s pretty quiet—but one where we know that a car will drive by at some point.”
I watched with my peripherals as Brody shifted uneasily, crossing his arms before uncrossing them, tugging at his shirt, readjusting his glasses.
“I get out of the car, and my
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