Surprise (13 page)

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Authors: Tinder James

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BOOK: Surprise
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We looked at each other, our eyes narrowing, contemplating what we should do. Finally, Cole said, “Well sugar, you're just going to have to come out here and show me.” I smiled, knowing we were about to cause a scene and feeling ready for it.

By some miracle, the bra fit. Well, my tits definitely bulged out the top a little, but it basically fit. The lace panels were not completely see through, but the outlines of my hardening nipples were definitely visible. I pushed the curtain aside and stepped out of the dressing room. Dripping my words in sugar and projecting loud enough to reach the front of the store I said, “What do you think, baby? Do you like it?”

I ran my hands over the sides of my breasts and under, lifting them slightly. Cole rubbed her chin in mock consideration. “Hmmmm. Turn around for me, sweetheart.” I turned around, catching a glimpse of the clerk, her face red, her eyes glaring fiercely at us.

“I don't know. Is it too tight around the bottom?” She reached over and ran her fingers under the elastic, her thumbs brushing over my nipples in an obvious manner. I heard the clerk gasp. “No, I think it fits good. We'll take it,” said Cole.

I stepped back into the booth, unhooked the bra, and tossed it out to her before closing the curtain. I heard her chuckle and her boots clunk to the front of the store as I put my halter back on.

When I came out the clerk was still beet red and her lips were pursed tight. As she shoved the bra into the bag she spat out, “If it were up to me, I wouldn't even accept money from you people.”

“You have a lovely day as well,” I said as we walked out, my hand sliding into the back pocket of Cole's jeans. Confrontations like this always leave me feeling giddy.

Getting panties was less eventful and much more within my comfort zone, a cheap three-pack of cotton thongs from Target. I was a little surprised when she picked them out. I didn't even wear thongs, though I had been mighty curious ever since a friend of mine described the experience as feeling “like you're getting rimmed 24/7.” We passed a bathroom and she handed me the bag.

“I want you to put on a pair of these panties and meet me around the corner, third store on the right.”

“Will I find a hidden envelope with my name on it containing further instructions?” I was still feeling silly.

Cole rolled her eyes. “Just do it.”

I found a stall and took one of the thongs out of the package. My panties had been up my ass all day anyway, so the thong didn't feel too different. I wouldn't exactly say it felt like someone licking my asshole, although the narrow crotch did feel nice against my pussy. I wondered again what the hell Cole was planning and how long it was going to be before she fucked me.

I left the bathroom and rounded the corner, stopping in my tracks when I saw which store was third on the right. It was a knife shop. My heart started pounding in my chest and my breath went all fast and shallow. I stood outside the shop looking in at the blades, trying not to drool or whimper out loud. Cole was at the counter, her back to me. I tried to stay steady on my feet as I walked in and crossed over to her, putting my arm around her shoulder. There were three knives in front of her on the counter.

She turned to me, nuzzling my neck and whispered into my ear, “I want a knife to use on you, just for us. I want you to pick which one you like.”

I wondered if my knees would give way right there, if I was blushing, if people would know how turned on I was or if they would think I had sunstroke.

All three knives were beautiful, but the middle one drew my eye like steel to a magnet. It had a beautiful pearly handle, swirling blues and grays. The blade was slender and curved up slightly at the tip. I could see myself reflected in the shiny steel as I leaned in closer.

I pointed to it. “That one.”

 

We got out of there as fast as we could without running. She led me down a street, down another, and pushed me into an alley behind a dumpster. We were both breathing hard as she shoved me up against the brick wall.

“You still want to get fucked?” She had her body pressed up against mine, her thigh parting my legs and rocking into my cunt. She sucked on my neck, biting me, and I let myself moan and lean into her. I felt frantic. I dug my nails into her arm, clawed at her back. She was sucking on my neck like she was going to leave it purple and swollen and I wanted her inside me NOW.

“Please, baby? Please fuck me? I need you inside my pussy so bad.”

She stopped chewing on my neck and leaned back from me, keeping me pinned against the wall with her hand on my shoulder. With her other hand she flipped the knife open and brought the blade to my throat.

The bottom half of my body felt liquid and I whimpered, not because I was scared, but because my need for this blade was so big I saw red. For that second I wanted to push against that sharp edge until it sunk into my neck like butter.

“Don't worry slut, I'm gonna fuck you.” She ran the knife lightly across my neck. I could feel the blade slicing through cells on the very surface of my skin. She backed off me completely, leaning against the dumpster, the knife dangling casually from her hand, and looked me up and down.

“Sit down on those crates.” There was a stack two high next to me and I sat down, leaning back against the wall and spreading my legs slightly. “You're going to have to spread farther than that if you want me to get at you.”

She knelt down in front of me and pushed my skirt up above my hips, allowing me to spread my thighs to their furthest extent. Slowly, gently, she slipped the knife blade underneath the crotch of my panties, angling so the dull side was pressed against my pussy. I gasped as she ran the edge up and down my slit. The sharp point scraped against my thigh where it came out the other side of my panties, making me shiver. She hooked her finger underneath the crotch and pulled it away from my body as she sawed through the cotton with the sharp edge of the knife.

“Mmmmm, your pussy is so beautiful.” She turned the knife upside down and slid the handle between my pussy lips, sliding it up and down, the bottom of the handle bumping my clit.

I couldn't take it any more. “Please, please, please Cole, please!”

She slipped the handle into my hole, fucking it in and out of my pussy. It didn't feel like much, but it drove me crazy seeing the blade sticking out of my cunt, her hand holding it carefully. I wanted her to fuck me hard with it, but she kept sliding it in and out at a controlled pace. I felt desperate by the time she lowered her mouth to my clit and sucked it gently, using her softest tongue strokes. Despite this tease I came hard and fast, thrusting my hips into her face.

She put the knife away, hauled me up, and slammed me back against the wall.

“You ready for something bigger up your pussy?”

She unzipped and took her dick out, pulling my leg up over her hip and pushing her cock roughly up my pussy. I was so wet and open and ready that her roughness was exactly what I needed.

She fucked me hard and fast. I started talking dirty in her ear, wanting her as worked up as possible.

“Yeah, fuck me baby, fuck me. Don't stop. God, you feel good, your cock is so fucking hard. You feel so big filling up my pussy. You feel how wet I am for you?”

“Yeah, I feel how wet you are. Jesus, fuck, your pussy feels good, so tight and hot and wet wrapped around my cock. You like getting fucked hard, don't you slut? Don't you?”

“Oh yes baby, yes. Fuck me, don't stop baby, don't stop.
Please.

“Oh, I'm not going to stop. I'll fuck you all day in this alley if I have to. Fuck baby, I'll fuck you all night. I'll fuck your pussy so raw you won't be able to walk for days. As long as I have to, girl. I'm going to fuck you until you cum for me. Come on baby, give it to me. Give yourself up for me.”

She started pounding into me harder. The base of her dick was rubbing against my clit, quickly bringing me to the edge. I could feel how turned on she was and I wanted to bring her over with me. “Baby, I want to feel you come inside me. Oh, fuck yes, please baby, please, you're gonna make me cum, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She quickened her strokes and pushed me over. I was cumming hard when she started moaning and bent down, biting the top of my tit where it pushed up over the top of my halter. That sent me spinning into a new set of spasms. I cradled her head to my breast, stroking her hair as she finished cumming inside me.

I held my breath as she pulled her cock out of me. I would be sore for days, and I could feel where the brick had rubbed the skin off my back. My legs were shaky on my new heels as we walked out from the alley hand in hand, but I was ridiculously happy.

 

 

 

Cherry
Janine Ashbless

 

“Trust me,” he says.

I trust you.

“You know I love you. With every beat of my heart.”

Yes.

He ties me to the bed and pours kirsch into my navel. Lapping the liqueur, he kisses his way up me. I quiver at each sweet impact. His mouth is like fire. He kisses my nipples and they tingle, burning. Runnels of kirsch trickle down the soft swells to pool on my breast-bone. I cry out with need.

He slides his body over mine—mouth cherry-sticky, cherry-red. As his teeth shear into my flesh I realize…he has no heartbeat.

 

 

 

 

flash fiction

 

 

 

Goddard's Curse
Paul L. Bates

 

Each tick of the clock resounded like a thunderclap. Goddard sat stone still, his eyes peering across the gloomy living room at the desolate cityscape framed above the bookcase. As always, he made an effort not to look at the offending timepiece.

It's 2:45
, he told himself against his will.
I know with all certainty that it's exactly 2:45. I can feel it in the night air. I can hear it in the silence. I know it from every other time I have remained awake fighting against the insidious pull. It's 2:45.

He grit his teeth, shut his eyes. He sighed submissively and stole a glance at the old fashioned mantle clock far to his left.

2:47
AM
.

Close enough. Probably two minutes of internalizing and irresolution, anyway.

Goddard stood up, peeled off his tee shirt, examining it for blood stains. Happily, there were none. He moved listlessly toward the small kitchen. The sink remained half full of used dishes, and the aroma of fresh coffee lingered in the air.

He poured himself another cup. Leaving it on the counter, he washed his hands and face in the kitchen sink. His hands trembled slightly as he toweled off the water and again when he spilled the sugar. He steadied himself enough not to splash the cream.

He heard the refrigerator door slam and knew he had just put the cream back inside. But he did not remember doing it.

Damn. It's happening again.

The coffee seemed to leap from the cup onto the counter as he tried to lift it. Only a little spilled, but that was the next sign that he was losing the battle. He gulped down the rest to avoid spilling anymore, no longer convinced that it would keep him awake.

Unplugging the coffee pot, he considered the caffeine pills, but rejected the notion at once. He hated how they made him feel—jittery, racing, out of control, careening down the mental byways without breaks, moving too fast to note the scenery flashing by. Taking them was just another way to lose it.

The phone rang. He jumped, snatching the handset from the kitchen wall before it could ring again.

“Hello?”

“Goddard?”

“Yes.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“Too bad, you little shit. I hate you. I hope you rot in hell. Fuck you, you selfish little prick—fuck you to hell.”

Whoever she was, she slammed the phone down before he had a chance to pull away and hang up first. He jumped again. His mind began a litany of potential callers, even though he did his best to control it. He succeeded a minute later, well before the end of the list.

He staggered back to the living room, gulping at the air like a fish too long out of water. Falling back into the black leather chair, his mind began another litany of the reasons that the women on the previous list might be calling him at 2:47
AM
.

From force of habit he stole another glance at the clock.

2:52
AM
.

Damn. I'm not going to watch time pass me by. I'm going to remain as I am. I'm going to resume my life tomorrow from this point on. I'm not going lose the meaning of this day. I'm not going to begin anew, as if none of it ever happened.

He shut his eyes, folded his legs beneath him. He began taking slow, measured breaths, counting to ten on the inhale, to six on the exhale. After a dozen or so of these, he stopped counting. He repeated his affirmations. He was not going to begin it all anew. He was going to move forward from this spot, wherever it might be.

He did not notice the dreams forming. They began with a facsimile of the room in which he sat. His legs felt cramped so he uncrossed them. The phone rang again, but now it was on the new oak table he had not yet bought, beside the black leather chair, much newer than it really was.

“Hello?”

“Goddard?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to kill you, you fucking shit.”

Wide awake again he found himself in a cold sweat, sticking to the old leather. He smelled like a skunk. Too much meat. He got up and staggered into the shower, his thoughts like white water rapids.
It was too late
, he told himself as the stinging cold water washed over him. He had already lost it he decided as he lathered his entire body. The focus was gone. There was no longer any point to his remaining awake. It had snuck up on him again, robbing him of his wits. He might as well sleep. He had done better than the night before. Tomorrow he would do better still. Tomorrow he might even last the night. He shut off the shower and dried himself in haste.

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