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Logan Gives Up The Pootie
Billy:
Billy
walked into the parking lot, already missing the cool comfort of the air
conditioning as he entered the cloying Florida heat. Darlene trailed after him and her
flip flops slapped on the pavement, flattening to paper thinness beneath her
feet. She definitely wasn’t the thinnest
of his groupie fuckbuddies, but she was one of the most adventurous.
He gave her
chubby ass a final squeeze and helped her into her Ford Escort. As she pulled out and gave him a last wave,
Billy’s eye was caught by a silver Mercedes CL600. A crystal dolphin hung from the rear-view
mirror.
“No fucking
way,” he muttered. What the hell was his
bitch sister-in-law doing at a Comfort Inn on a Wednesday afternoon? Billy didn’t think Loretta would be caught
dead in anything less than a four-star hotel.
Billy
jogged to his trunk and rummaged through the glove box until he found the
digital camera he’d tossed in there that morning, planning to take pics of
Darlene—which he’d forgotten. Billy
lurked in the shade in front of the hotel until he was so bored he nearly gave
up, but he finally spotted Loretta leaving the lobby, wearing her usual
designer clothes and expensive fuck-me pumps.
Accompanying her was someone that made Billy mutter, “Cha-CHING” under
his breath, because he had just hit the jackpot. Loretta’s companion looked like he had just
stepped out of a rap video. The man was
huge, black, and bedecked with enough gold to send him straight to the bottom
of the Atlantic if he slipped off the deck of
a boat. He walked with a slouchy pace,
following Loretta to a tricked out black Escalade.
Loretta
turned and gifted her dark meat beefcake with a tongue-laden kiss. Billy took several pictures. The man groped Loretta’s fine ass for a while
and then climbed into the Escalade and departed. Billy made an intercepting path as Loretta
strolled to her Mercedes. As soon as she
climbed behind the wheel, Billy was in front of the car, directly in her line
of sight.
He saw her
eyes widen in horrified recognition, a look that narrowed to rage when he
dangled the camera by the strap, allowing it to pendulum slightly. She watched it as though hypnotized. Billy grinned, waved at her jauntily, and
trotted to his truck. He pulled out of
the parking lot and into traffic.
Billy
nearly laughed out loud at the heady sense of power. Oh, that bitch, he so had that bitch right where he wanted her. Loretta was Billy’s wife’s sister, and she
had always treated Billy like he was the lowest piece of garbage. It was ironic, considering her own
white-trash roots. Now that she had
found her rich fuck husband, she acted like her cunt was made of solid gold.
She was
fine to look at, Billy had to admit. Her
hair was black as midnight and she had fine, porcelain-pale skin that was just
to Billy’s taste. Even though he was 31,
Goth still turned Billy on. He still
fantasized about having sex with wraithlike vampire chicks. Billy had tattoos on most of his body, and
his own dark hair was worn long and loose.
His body had once been lean and strong, though lately gone to pot due to
a steady diet of booze, drugs, and laziness.
Billy still
thought of himself as fine-looking. Hot,
even. Although he was an auto mechanic
by day, by night he was a rockin’ bass guitar player with a local alt rock
band. A good one. Soon, they would hit the big time and Billy
would leave his grease monkey life behind him.
He already had groupies climbing all over him, like Darlene. When Billy was famous, he’d have pootie by
the busload.
One pootie
he had always wanted was Loretta’s.
Billy’s pale wife had gone to seed quickly, after squeezing out two
kids. Her whole life was PTA meetings
and soccer games. She didn’t care what
Billy did, or who he did it with.
Loretta, on the other hand, thought he was seven kinds of scum, and
never tired of telling him about it.
Billy had made a pass at her at his wedding, and she had told him if he
wanted to sleep with her, he could dig up her dead, rotting corpse and fuck
that. God, she was such a turn-on.
Billy’s
phone rang and he laughed. Dead, rotting
corpse, eh? Bring on that pampered pootie,
Loretta, bring it on.
“Hello?” he
asked smugly.
Loretta:
She
clenched her teeth when she heard Billy answer.
Fuck, she hated the Goth wannabe redneck bastard.
“What do
you want, Billy?” she snarled.
“Hey,
Loretta,” he said happily.
“It’s Logan,” she corrected for
the umpteen-millionth time. The fucking
jerk refused to call her by the nickname she preferred. “Now, what do you want?”
“Nice
boyfriend, Loretta. Wonder what it’s
worth to keep these photos from making their way to your rich husband?”
Her hand
gripped the steering wheel so tightly the responsive Mercedes nearly drove off
the road. Of all the people to have
blackmail material on her, it had to be her sister’s shitpile husband. This would probably cost her a pretty
penny. Billy never seemed to be hurting
for money, even though he was just an idiot auto mechanic. Of course, he thought he was a rock star, and
God’s gift to women.
“How much?”
she asked, wanting to get the conversation over with.
“Well now,
what it is I want most from you, Loretta?” he asked, and she felt her first
moment of trepidation. Let it be money. Let it be money. Billy laughed. “I think you know what I want, Loretta.”
She nearly
threw her phone in frustration. Fuck,
fuck, fuck!
“You
guessed it, babe. It’s time for you to
give up some pootie.”
“You’re a
goddamn jackass, Billy.”
“You’re
just mad ‘cuz you have to give it up.”
“Can’t you
just ask for money, like a normal human being?” she asked, adding mentally, Even though you’re not a human being?
“No, I’ve
been dreaming about that tight ass of yours for a long time. How ‘bout we go to that fancy beach house of
yours and get it on?”
“When?”
“No time
like the present, Loretta.”
She hung
up.
Billy:
Billy
pulled into the driveway of the cottage.
The place was perfectly landscaped, and had a perfect view of the ocean,
and a perfect private beach. It must
have cost Loretta’s husband some serious coin.
Billy wondered how many times Loretta had indulged her dark meat habit
here.
The
Mercedes pulled in next to his truck.
“Give me
the camera,” Loretta snarled. Whoa, she
was hot. Her tits were amazing, and all
that black hair… it drove him wild.
“Pootie
first, Loretta.”
She spun on
a high heel and stalked into the house.
Billy followed. Loretta went
straight to the bar and poured a generous amount of amber liquid into a
glass. She downed it in a few
gulps. The bitch did not bother to offer
him any.
“Let’s get
this over with,” she snapped and stalked into the bedroom.
Billy
grinned. He sauntered into the cool blue
room and licked his lips with a pierced tongue as he watched Loretta peel off
the cream-colored skirt and white blouse.
Her obvious rage turned him on even more. Billy disrobed slowly. Loretta threw herself on the bed.
When Billy
was naked, he crawled into the bed and leaned over Loretta.
“Now, you
aren’t gonna lay there like a dead fish are you, Loretta? I figure keeping my mouth shut for you deserves
a little effort on your part.”
She sighed
explosively, but reached down and snatched his cock none too gently. That was okay with Billy. She could play as rough as she wanted.
He felt her
hand pause as she felt his pierced dick.
Billy was pierced everywhere—cock, nipples, ears, balls… Loretta slid down and took Billy’s cock into
her mouth, biting at the metal stud.
Billy sucked in a breath. He
hoped she didn’t decide to bite it out.
He wrapped a hand in her black hair and dragged her up, just in case.
He moved
downward in the same motion and lapped at her nipples, sucking and biting at
them. Part of his mind wondered if her
black lover did the same, and Billy tried to be creative—make it better. She couldn’t help but compare, and Billy did
not plan to be on the losing end.
He fingered
her pussy, shoving a finger inside, then two.
She made a gasping noise and Billy grinned. He stroked her lightly and then moved down
farther. He licked his way over her flat
stomach and nuzzled the dark curls before allowing his tongue to join his
fingers. He licked at her clit while his
fingers probed her hot wetness—in and out.
Billy kept
it up until she was thrashing and making quick gasping, moaning noises. She was nearly coming, he figured, so he
moved upward and quickly thrust into her.
Fuck, she was just as hot and tight as he had expected. He gave a silent thanks to whatever had
possessed him to go to the Comfort Inn.
Billy was going to rock her world.
Loretta:
Billing was
boring the shit out of her. His foreplay
skills were pathetic. His tongue could
barely find her clit—although she had to admit the stud in his tongue was a
pleasant surprise. Too bad he didn’t
know how to use it properly. She
wondered if Rodney would be willing to get one.
Despite Billy’s ineptitude, Logan managed to concentrate long enough to get close, figuring she might as well get
something out of this hellish experience.
And then the stupid bastard quit tonguing her and rammed his dick home.
She nearly
laughed aloud. Not one hour ago, she had
been quite properly fucked by eleven inches of hard, wide, dark cock. Even with his piercing, Billy was a poor
substitute. Logan felt the urge to come dissipating. Billy thrust enthusiastically and she could
tell he was doing his damnedest. For a
moment, she almost pitied him. It wasn’t
his fault he would never measure up.
Logan fondled the rings
in his nipples and pulled on them gently.
As she’d hoped, the additional stimulation was all he needed. Billy jerked and stiffened as a shudder ran
though him. He collapsed on her, a dead
weight.
He only lay
still for a moment, and then raised up on one arm to look at her.
“Was it
good for you, baby?” he asked softly.
She would have liked nothing better than to laugh in his face and
verbally eviscerate him, but she bit her tongue. She dared do nothing until she had that
camera safely in her hand.
“Sure,” she
said with a smile. She forced herself to
slide a hand over his tattooed shoulder.
She shifted slightly and he obligingly climbed off of her. She sat up, went to the closet, and pulled
out a light robe.
“Can I see
that camera now?” she asked. She watched
him tug his pants back on, and she saw the calculating look cross his
features. The son of a bitch!
“You know,”
he said, “I think these photos are worth more than one taste of your rich pootie. How about we do this again tomorrow? Same time, same place?”
She
suppressed the urge to throw a lamp at him and shrugged. “All right,” she said mildly. Billy grinned in delight. He blew her a kiss and went out.
As soon as
he was in his truck, Logan dialed a number on her cell phone. Her
black lover answered on the third ring.
She explained the situation and smiled when she flipped the phone shut.
Rodney and his
buddies would catch up to Billy shortly.
When that happened, Billy would not only be losing his digital camera,
he’d be losing a lot of blood. If he was
lucky, Rod would allow him to keep breathing.
“Hope the
pootie was worth the pain, Billy,” she said and laughed on her way to the
shower.
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