Bad to the Bones(50)
As much as I never wanted to hurt Knoxie in the slightest, I was eager to proceed. He winced when I shoved him with my palm in the middle of his chest, encouraging him to fall back upon the futon.
Planting one knee on either side of his hips, I tilted my head saucily and gripped the coveralls zipper between my breasts. “You know I’ve been waiting eagerly for you, Knoxie Hammett.”
He encircled my waist with one of his big hands, his eyes assessing my form as I revealed it. “Never thought I’d be doing a chick in greaser’s overalls. But listen. I really need to shower.”
“I’m not waiting.” I lowered the zipper past my navel. I could tell by the way his eyelashes flickered and his breathing came shallower that he was aroused. “I don’t care about a little road sweat. You think when I lived up in Coyote Buttes with Maddy, we cared about a little road sweat?”
“You were little whores,” he said quietly, almost as an afterthought, sliding his hand inside my coveralls, around my waist. All I wore was a wifebeater over my underwire bra, and his touch on my skin was like little embers scattering over my flesh. “Maddy told me.”
I was neither embarrassed nor proud. “That’s where I learned to give a good piston job.” Sinking my labia down right smack dab across his prick, I swiveled and rotated. His big slug-like cock ballooned under my caresses, and my clitoris shuddered as I rubbed it with intent against his bulging shaft.
The second I exposed one bare shoulder, Knoxie yanked the sleeve completely down my arm. “You’re an excellent pipe jobber, Bellamy. But listen—ah! Seriously, babe. Come on. You’re torturing me. I’ve got f*cking dried blood everywhere. You don’t even want to know what sort of a crib I had to try to sleep in last night just to blend in with that skanky hood.”
I paused in the middle of removing my other sleeve. “Crib?”
“No, no, no. I wasn’t doing any other gash. I was just crashing in some kind of rank flop house, some stash house with no glass in the windows, centipedes and scorpions making their nest in the carpet. Seriously.”
I had seen worse up in Coyote Buttes. And I wanted to eat Knoxie’s dick so professionally that he made cartoon sounds and the top of his head came off. So I leaped to my feet and squirmed out of the rest of the oily wrench’s uniform. The effect on his face was worth it. It would’ve looked better if I were wearing high heels and not cloddish mechanic’s boots, but at least I wore a nice creamy push-up bra and panties Maddy had given me. Knoxie’s eyes bulged and he practically said “ah-ooga,” and that pumped my ego.
Soon I was standing in only bra, panties, and the clodhopper boots. I had never had to seduce anyone before. In Coyote Buttes, you just toked a joint and fell into a clinch. No foreplay, no nothing. In Bihari, I don’t think I need to add, it was even worse. There wasn’t even any pretense that it was all about lust, desire, or need. It was a strictly mechanical, functional act, executed to bring about some desired result.
In a flash, I was on my knees between his thighs. Frantically I scrabbled at his belt buckle, not wanting to let him get away for a second. I wanted to cement our relationship, to know it was real, that he would be there for me. My entire life had been uprooted. Everything I knew had been wrenched from me. I needed Knoxie to be the one stable, constant presence in my life.
“No!” His sudden bark pierced my eardrums, and before I knew it, I was on the other side of the room, spinning on my ass. What the f*ck? Knoxie must have shoved me so monstrously that I’d gone flying, limbs sprawling, all the air knocked from my lungs.
I gazed at him, shocked. He stood like The Hulk, having leaped to his feet with brutish hands at his sides clenching and unclenching. He looked even more frazzled and frightening because he hadn’t shaved and one of his pant legs was torn off. “What the f*ck, Knoxie! If you’re into bondage and discipline just say so, but I’d appreciate a heads up.”
Instantly his face fell as he regretted what he’d done. “Ah God, Bellamy! I didn’t mean to do that! I—”
He was at my side, yanking me to my feet. “No, no, no,” he said over and over, pressing me to the grimy wall with his hips. “You’re good, Bellamy. You’re good. You’re the one good thing in my life, and I want to taste you, to drink you. I don’t want you servicing me like some whore. You’re not a whore, and this—what we have between us—isn’t some lesson or fake therapy.”
As he stared intently into my eyes, his fingers snaked around the curve of my ass. I gasped loudly and jumped about a foot when his fingertips slithered around my * lips. I hadn’t noticed how swollen and slick they were, and his fingertips slid around my opening. He jutted the ridge of his cock against my pubic bone, and again I felt my inner cunt flutter. Now I was the one with drooping eyes, panting against my lover’s face.
When his fingers slithered over the erect bullet of my clit, I cried aloud. This seemed to set something off in him, because now he was tearing his belt apart and practically snarling. “Fucking is nothing but sensual fun, Bellamy.” His fingers never stopped diddling my clit, and with each gasp I inched higher up the wall. Soon he was nearly holding me over his head as he fiddled with me. “Fucking is just one goddamned thrill, one indulgent joy ride.”
I had never been the subject of such talented fingering before. Within seconds I felt strangely high, drugged, a sensation of fullness flooding my entire pelvis. I barely noticed when Knoxie pressed the naked, hot skin of his tight cockhead to my *. I was suddenly all about this full, tense feeling that gripped all organs in my pelvis. I heard myself crying, sobbing out to Knoxie.