Monday, November 10, 2008

Copping A Feel

"Do you know why I stopped you, ma'am?"

The officer is so young. His blond hair, cropped close to his scalp, looks as soft as peach fuzz.

"Um…no?" I lie unconvincingly. I can’t afford a ticket.

"You’re going the wrong way down a one-way street," he says. I wonder why he became a cop. Wonder if he gets off on the power. The thought makes my stomach lurch apprehensively, but it also makes me moisten and swell.

"Step out of the car, please." His gaze flickers over my body, clearly visible through the sheer sundress. A shiver runs down my spine.

"I’m sorry," he says, "but I need to pat you down," and then he’s touching me, politely at first. I stifle a sudden, wild urge to laugh, but then he brushes against a nipple and I moan inadvertently. Abandoning all pretense, his hands roam over my ass, then back up my inner thighs. "Spread your legs," he murmurs in my ear, and I do, gasping when he pulls my skirt up and gropes me abruptly, discovering my wetness.

I hear the buckle, the zipper, then feel the head of his cock against my slit, nudging me thrillingly open and then sliding inside me easily. He pushes me down onto the car and begins to thrust. I'm over the top in seconds, my cunt pulsing uncontrollably. He fucks me harder, faster, and I come and come, transported, until he shudders, groaning with pleasure.

I get off with a warning…this time.

[written for Alison Tyler's "one way" contest]

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Hustle

It's strange being home again. Three months we've been at college, but it feels like years. And now we're back - different, but the same - and my half-dozen boys do not want the night to end.

So, as I stand to go, I'm not surprised when they swipe my car key right out of my hand. The six of them are quick, sneaky, work as a team. I watch, helpless, as the keyring arcs across the room, is passed hand to hand, and, predictably, ends up down someone's pants.

When we were kids, that was the end of the chase. An unbreachable border, that waistband, between a girl and her male friends. A fail-safe.

But they don't know how three months have changed me.

The counterpoint to their jump and jive, the foil to their fancy footwork, I walk slowly toward him. I sense their collective gulp as they realize the game has changed.

The room is silent. I feel like I’m in a dream.

I draw close, reach out, unbutton, unzip. He holds still as my fingers slide inside, search for my quarry, brush against him accidentally, then deliberately. He’s hard. His breath hitches. As I grab the key with one hand, the other hand wraps around his cock and strokes him once, twice. He’s trembling. I lean forward and, in a movement so daring I wonder at myself later, take him into my mouth, suck mercilessly. Swallow.

Game over.

This time I make it to the door.

[written for Alison Tyler's "key" contest]