Author: Elizabeth Heath
Category: Other
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I didn't hear Marcus come up behind me. "What are you doing?" he asked.
I jumped. "I'm resetting my odometer."
"Why?"
"My gas gage is broken," I replied. "My late husband showed me how to figure how many miles I needed to drive before filling up the tank by setting the odometer."
"Kind of a pain in the ass, isn't it?"
"I'm used to it."
I started to thank him for his help and close the car door, but he stopped me. "Sure you don't want to hang out a little longer before it's completely dark?"
Much as I'd wasted enough time being stuck in the middle of nowhere, I also figured it was rude to leave Marcus after all he'd done to help me get on my way. I smiled up at him. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
I asked if he had any ideas in mind. He nodded. "We're going to have to get off the road and go somewhere else, though."
While I wasn't sure where things were headed, I followed him to what appeared to be an abandoned farm. I noted that no one could see us from the road, but I wasn't nervous. By then, I'd already saw that Marcus was indeed a decent guy.
We talked about my day and each other's lives. Marcus didn't seem to mind that he was listening to rants spewing from a woman so much older than he. Not many men his age spent time listening to women in their mid-forties bitch about their day's annoyances, but he didn't seem to mind.
Our eyes met and Marcus gave me another one of his dazzling smiles. There was no question by then as to exactly what he'd had in mind, and I told him that I was old enough to be his mother.
"Well, you ain't my mom," he replied and leaned into me.
We kissed with intense passion! Our tongues entwined in a dance of seduction as Marcus began to undress me. He kissed my neck as one of his hands slowly unbuttoned my blouse. He sized up my breasts with both his eyes and hands after removing my bra."Damn, you've got a great rack. I'm normally an ass guy, but these are awesome!"
His hands explored my naked breasts and squeezed them..I reached for his crotch and found him straining against the khaki shorts he wore. When I unzipped them and reached inside, I discovered he wore no underwear and his cock was very hard.
We stopped fondling each other long enough to finish undressing and then got out of his truck. I got my first look at Marcus' penis and saw how long and thick it was. We kissed again before I slowly moved down his torso until I reached his erection.
I kissed the tip of Marcus' cock and looked up at him with total lust in my eyes. I gripped the base of his dick and slid the full hardness between my lips until it reached my throat. I sucked him until my lips reached the base, and then began to devour his entire shaft until he was almost to the point of ejaculating down my throat.
"Oh, baby, you gotta stop," he said, panting. "I don't want to come yet."
Marcus pulled me up and placed me on the door which opened the bed of his truck. He spread my legs and looked at my shaved mound for a moment before burying his head between my thighs. His tongue caressed, teased, and licked my slit while three of his fingers pumped in and out of my pussy until I came.
We climbed into the truck's bed. While he stood, I kneeled and swallowed his cock again all the way to his balls. My head bobbed with a steady rhythm while he moaned with pleasure as my lips moved back and forth, sliding up and down his entire shaft while I stroked his smooth balls.
Marcus thrust his hips and fucked my mouth for several moments before he pulled me off of his throbbing member. We both stood in the truck bed and he turned me to face away from him, bent me at the waist, and slid his enormous cock deep inside my pussy. I felt him spread my ass cheeks, likely to have a view of how his cock spread my opening while he thrust in and out of me.
"Shannon...Shannon...your pussy is so fucking hot. It's been forever since I've fucked a woman...oh, baby, you feel so damn good!"
I felt him push in deep over and over and and my orgasm quickly approached. He pushed deep and pulled out, in...out... as he gained speed with each thrust.
When he pulled out again, I was able to straighten my upper body before Marcus helped me out of the truck bed. "Let's continue over there," he said, indicating a stack of old hay.
He laid me on my back and spread my legs wide before he pushed his cock back into my pussy. I wrapped my legs around his ass, digging my bare heels into his ass like a jockey spurring a thoroughbred to the finish.
"Fuck me," I said. "Drive your cock deeper and fuck me harder. I want to feel you come."
The idea of shooting his semen inside me must've made Marcus even more aroused. His cock pushed in harder and his thrusts were a little faster.
"Yes...that's it."
He picked up the pace and pumped in and out at a harder, steadier pace.
"Oh my God!" I cried when another orgasm hit. "Fuck me, Marcus!"
His breath became more jagged as we continued fucking like wild animals on the stack of hay."I'm so close, baby," he said. "I'm going to come!"
Marcus' body stiffened and I felt his release in my pussy. He howled in ecstasy as he sped up his thrusts to breakneck pace before his balls were empty of sperm and his cock was soft.
We held each other for several minutes and caught our breaths before he slowly pulled out and helped me to my feet. My back and butt were a little irritated from the hay, but having sex for the first time since before Randy's last deployment and subsequent death - even if it had been with a young Good Samaritan - made me once again feel alive for the first time in over a year.
After we dressed, we exchanged phone numbers before Marcus followed my car back up to the road until he was sure I was okay. When I got home, I called to let him know I arrived safely and we made a date for the following weekend.
I know Marcus and I get odd looks when we're out together, but sex behind closed doors has never been better. There's just something arousing about a man who loves being taken advantage of sexually, and I'm still teaching him tricks he never knew existed.
It took Marcus awhile to adjust to city life, but he's always open to learning something new, both in and out of bed. Sometimes we'll go back to the spot where we'd met the day I'd run out of gas and relive that first warm evening of unrestrained passion at the abandoned farm.
He even fixed the gas gauge in my car. I'm guessing he doesn't want another young, sexy male stranger to approach me should I ever get stranded on a country road...
The End.
The Shadow People
Savannah opened her eyes and stretched languidly under her weighted comforter. The sun pierced through the slightly parted curtains and left a thick haze over her sleepy mind. Rolling over to her alarm clock, she was abruptly stopped by the shocking sight of the strange man lying beside her. He rested atop her blankets, trapping her under their encumbrance, with a lazy arm thrown across his eyes. Signs of stubble were appearing on his rigid chin, his russet hair grown out to his shoulders in tight curls. Long legs and thick muscular arms took up the majority of the space on the small twin bed, and Savannah suddenly felt cramped in her tiny place beside him.
Tentatively, she reached out one pianist finger to poke him in the shoulder. After a moment of stillness, she repeated the action. The big bulk beside her started shaking gently with amused laughter, and unexpectedly rolled over, tucking her tiny body under his much larger one. She squealed in mock fear and giggled loudly underneath his heavy weight, squirming in a false attempt to throw him off. His laughter became louder until it seemed to fill every crack and crevice in the room. Suddenly, his hands were upon her. Strong hands with long fingers, gripping her ribcage and causing her to go breathless with giggles. His hands ventured lower, thumbs pressing to the crease where her legs met with the triangle nestled between her thighs. Savannah squealed and bucked beneath him, forcing them both to fall off the bed, landing unceremoniously on the floor in a tangle of blankets and limbs.
"Savvy," he gasps between snorts. "You really need to get that looked at. It's unnatural to be so damned ticklish." S
avannah cannot respond to his teasing, and she tries to gulp air in to her lungs. After a while their laughter dies down, and they lie together in complete silence. Savannah marvels at the peace she feels, lying with this man and just being perfectly still. He has always been the closest thing to family for Savannah, as she never knew her parents. Her foster mom was absolutely horrific, the type who adopted seven children so that the state would send her money for her tequila Fridays. Mrs. Ashford was always raving on about demons and night walkers, telling stories with such vivid details that Savannah spent many nights awake with terror. Last night was no different, her mind replaying the things it conjured up during Ashford's drunken stupor. Flashes of dark creatures with twisted limbs creep into her mind, and Savannah shakes her head in an attempt to clear it. It's unfair that even now, when she is safe and content in his arms, she still lives in fear of the monsters under the bed.
"Thank you for staying with me last night. I know you must be getting tired of me by now." Savannah whispers in to his shoulder, hiding her face in shame. She feels his lips on her head, laying a kiss in her tangle of flaxen hair.
"I will never tire of you, don't be so derisible. You know I love you sprog." He squeezes her in his arms to hold her closer, as if chasing away her thoughts. Savannah hates it when he calls her sprog, a nickname she acquired for being the youngest of the seven children. Ten years later and he still calls her the kid. It annoys her, but at the same time makes her feel happy, due to the familiarity of it. Perhaps she will miss it once he's gone.
"Chase, what do you think happiness feels like?"
For a long time he does not answer. Then he rolls them over on the floor and tucks her into the fold of his body, sheltering her from the crisp morning air. He squeezes again, keeping silent all the while. Finally, as Savannah begins to drift off to sleep once more, he whispers in her ear. "I think it feels like this."
"Then why are you so eager to leave me?" She says the words before she can stop them, and immediately wishes that she had the power to take them back. It is unfair of her to wish this hell on him, selfish of her to ask him to stay. But that is what she has just done.
"I'm not leaving you, Savvy. I'll be waiting, and as soon as you're eighteen, I'll come back for you. I promise." He nuzzles the curvature of her neck, breathing her her familiar scent and marvelling at the smoothness of her skin. "I won't ever leave you," he swears. "Don't you trust me?" He can feel her tense in his arms, but he will never understand her aversion to trusting people. And not just people, but him.
The nightmares have taken over her life now, real blending with the make believe in her waking hours, and trust isn't an emotion she readily feels. Especially not for Chase, not after what her mind's eye has seen. But how could she tell him that? After all, he has only ever showed kindness to her. How could she explain her fear towards him, when it doesn't even make sense to herself?
"I trust you," she lies, the words singing her tongue on the way out. "I won't leave you either." Savannah says this as an afterthought, not really understanding why it felt so important to say.
Chase laughs. "Course you won't." But there is something in his voice, something that wasn't there before. However, before Savannah can ask him about it, there is a loud bang right outside the door, followed shortly by Mrs. Ashford's wailing. Suddenly, the door swings open with such force it nearly comes off its hinges.
"Jasny zachrance!" She bursts in to the room, blood caking her face and hair, fingernails covered in grime. "Run!" She grabs Savannah by her tangled hair and lifts her from the floor, ignoring her thrashing in pain. "Musi bezet, zustante v bezpeci!" Savannah can see Chase rising from the floor, anger and panic evident in his eyes. She herself does not feel angry, or even afraid. She is only confused. Mrs. Ashford rambling in an unknown language is nothing new to the foster children, even physical violence is a common occurrence, especially for Savannah, who often encouraged the old drunks wrath. But where has all this blood come from?
Mrs. Ashford has taken Savannah to the window now, and throws her against it. "Stupid girl," she spits. "Run!" Savannah blindly turns to the window and pushes it open, she lifts herself on to the sill and begin to wiggle through. She is almost completely out when a loud crash causes her to look back. Mrs. Ashford lies on the ground, her mouth opened impossibly wide in a soundless scream, blood flowing past her lips. She is dead. Savannah has never seen someone die before. She looks up to see Chase struggling with a man dressed all in black. No, not a man, a creature. With skin so dark it looks like the ocean water at night, and silver tattoos like the moonlight reflecting off the surface. "Prestan!" He shouts. His teeth resemble those of a sharks, long and pointed, stained yellow and red. As if her commanded them, a half dozen more creatures run past him in to the room, headed straight for Savannah. Chase screams and tackled the shouting man to the floor, bringing his knee down on the creatures snarling face with impressive force. Someone hits him in the head from behind, and Chase falls to the floor. The creature springs upon him, sinking his teeth in to Chase's shoulder with a sickening sound.
Savannah tears her eyes away from the horrifying scene in time to see three of the beasts simultaneously reaching out towards her. She shrieks, loud and high in pitch, and throws her body desperately out the window. One of the things manages to grab a fistful of hair, and for a terrifyingly painful moment Savannah is suspended in the air. Arrows of pain shoot through her skull, a scream lodged in her throat. The creatures are shouting to one another, voices like gravel that crawl on the surface of her flesh. She reaches up and grips the hand holding her, digging her finger nails in to the rubbery skin there as hard as she possibly can. She hits the ground hard, rolling her ankle as she does so, but she cannot stop. She knows what happens next, she has seen it before. Only this time, these are not creatures of her imagination. These are not the things she sees in her dreams at night, after one of Ashford's bedtime stories.
Savannah's stomach rolls at the thought of Mrs. Ashford, lying dead in a pool of her own blood. Blood that was much thicker than she would have imagined. Chase's screams follow her out of the yard, seem to echo off every house in the abandoned neighbourhood. Where is everyone? Why is no one coming to save them?
Vomit threatens its way up her throat and Savannah struggles to keep it at bay. She knows she must run, but the undeniable need to turn back for him is causing her feet to stick to the ground. She also knows, however, that every second of indecision may cost her her life. In the dream, they come from the mouth of the alley to her left. Closing her eyes against the oncoming tears, Savannah turns away and runs with all her strength, runs for her life. ~~
"Sire, we have found it." The Shadow Creature walks towards him with an unsuppressed gleam in its white eyes. The movements are awkward, as the creature is bent disproportionately at the waist and has limbs that jut out at impossible angles. He never did like the Shadow People, but their powers were undeniable indeed, and their numbers great. They would prove to be of much use when the time for war finally arrived. And if what this creatures says is true, that time will soon be here.
"Where is it?" He demands, patience worn out. He is so close to his goal, he can taste victory on the tip of his tongue.
"Kept in the basement, sire. Chains you see. It tried to flee." The creature snickers, laughing at its own cleverness.
He leaves for the basement, barely holding on to his sanity, but stops to address the creature once more. "What, exactly, is it Pecks? I have always wondered, but now..." He does not say that he is afraid, that would be untrue. And unwise, to show weakness in the face of a shadow creature. But in all honesty, he is hesitant to go down to the basement without knowing. He has been searching for such a long time for The Torch, now that it has been found, he is indeterminate.
The creature laughs some more, blood gurgling in its throat. "A surprise, master." He chuckles. "A most wonderful surprise." ~~
Savannah awakes to an amount of pain she has surely never felt before, and to the f
eeling of being prodded. She tries opening her eyes, but one of them seems to be swollen shut. She cannot remember how she got here. The last thing she does remember was running for her life, making her way in to the city, when suddenly all of the shadows on the street became alive. They jumped at her, shapeless monsters, faceless beings, scratching and clawing. And burning. Every surface of her body felt alight in flame. She longs to claw the flesh from her bones, simply to get the fire off of her. But her hands, she realizes with a start, are chained above her head. She is hanging from a ceiling. What an odd thing, she thinks to herself, I have always wondered what this would feel like. Then the panic sinks in, and whatever thoughts she had, rational or no, are wiped clear from her mind. She can see them, the Shadow People from Mrs. Ashford's stories, the creatures that kept her awake at night for years. In the flesh, surrounding her.
Screams of terror rip from her body as she wriggles uselessly in her confinement. One of the creatures grabs her chin and forces her to look at it. Him, she thinks it is a him. At first, distinguishing a gender for these creatures seemed like a good idea to her, maybe it would humanize them more and make them seem less terrifying in her own mind. Now, though, seeing the look it, he, is giving her, she realises that nothing she does will make her less scared.
The creature bends forward, moving its head without moving the rest of its body, and licks the side of her face. He runs his purple tongue over her jaw line and up to her closed lips, laughing from his throat all the while. Another beast has hands on her thighs, inching slowly up underneath her nightgown. Nausea bubbles in her stomach, her head begins to spin. All she can feel is terror, and pain.
A shout from the doorway causes the creatures to scatter. Savannah looks up to see a man standing in the borders of the door, taking up almost all the space. His shape is large, impossibly so. He looks to be seven feet tall, and built with so many muscles they even it out. He takes a tentative step towards her, then another, and finally steps in to the light.