He nursed the overheated Ford to within a couple hundred yards of a dirt drive that led up to a small, white farmhouse, and then the vehicle expired with a final hiss of steam. Ted Stevens stepped out of the car into the searing sun. He pushed his straw hat back and mopped his face with a handkerchief. Then he set his hat and tie on straight and strode down the road and into the driveway of the farmhouse.
From behind the faded chintz curtains in the parlor, Ruby Garner watched the tall, lean man walk up onto the porch of her house. He had a rugged, handsome face, brown eyes and broad shoulders, wiry black hair peeking out from under his hat. Despite the stifling heat, she shivered when he knocked on the screen door.
“Hello, ma’am,” Ted said, smiling and doffing his hat. “I’ve had some car trouble.” He pointed up the road at the black vehicle baking under the hot summer sun. “I wonder if I might trouble you for some water for my radiator?”
She gazed at him through the flimsy screen, her hazel eyes narrowed. “You best let it cool down some, first. Why don’t you come inside, have a glass of lemonade?”
“Why, thank you, ma’am! That would be fine. Sure is hot out.”
He sat at the kitchen table, tall and straight, while she poured cool lemonade from a pitcher into a glass, set the glass down in front of him. She was wearing a plain white cotton dress, thin from washing, hugging to the curves of her dark body, and she could feel his glittering eyes appraising her.
He took a deep gulp of the lemonade. “Will you join me, ma’am?”
She held the pitcher against her stomach, the iced glass cooling her not a bit. “You just out for a drive?”
He laughed, staring at her rising and falling breasts pressing against the front of her dress. “No, ma’am. I’m out on business. I’m a crop adjuster for a large insurance concern.”
He was wearing a brown pinstriped suit and white shirt, brown tie and shoes. He looked like he had a steady job. “Not much crop of any kind around here, these days,” Ruby said, drawing a little closer. The man’s musky cologne filled the stuffy kitchen. “Hasn’t been since thirty-one.”
“Times are tough.” He nodded solemnly, glancing up, noticing how the woman’s eyes were shining now. He took another swallow of lemonade, his Adam’s apple bobbing powerfully. “Your, uh, husband is out in the fields?”
She wet her full lips with the tip of her pink tongue. “He’s off on . . . business, himself. Has been for a while.”
“Oh? Must get mighty lonely here all by yourself.”
She stared at his deep-brown face, the sheen of perspiration on his broad forehead, his long, strong fingers gripping the glass and the table. It was lonely, had been for too long with no man around. Her young body swayed, her pretty face flushing. It was so very hot, the man so very close.
She crashed the pitcher of lemonade down on the table.
“Well, I suppose I’d better be—”
Ruby grabbed him by the shoulders, lowered her head, and mashed her mouth against his, unable to control herself. And she shivered with delight as she felt his long, strong arms catch her trembling body, his soft, wet lips move against hers.
He rose to his feet, their mouths locked together. The chair tumbled over to the floor. They clutched each other, Ted’s hot, hard body melding into Ruby’s hot, soft form, in the steamy heat of the kitchen. She grabbed at his hair and ran her fingers through the kinky curls, as his big hands swooped down her curved back and rounded onto her buttocks.
They broke apart only when they had to breathe. Then they glared at each other. Ted towered over Ruby, but the strength of her passion placed them on an equal footing.
She pushed him back against the wall, gasping. “It’s been too long!” Not as an excuse, or an explanation, just a statement of fact. She pressed her mouth against his and darted her tongue in between his plush lips, searching for and finding his tongue, entwining.
They wildly frenched. Until Ted spun Ruby around and slammed her up against the wall. “Oh, God, yes!” she cried, letting him pull her arms up over her head and clasp them together at the wrists. Her breasts strained against the worn fabric of her dress, and she arched her back needfully.
Holding her wrists with one hand, he tore her dress down the middle with the other. Her breasts spilled out into the open, black and round and quivering, darker nipples pointing. She gasped when he cupped a tit, screamed when he kissed the nipple.
Ted gripped one soft, warm breast and licked at the stiffened nipple, sucked on it. Then popped it shining out of his mouth and gripped the woman’s other breast, sucked on her other nipple. Ruby writhed against the wall, feeling the heated tug of the man’s wet mouth all through her shimmering body.
He bounced his head back and forth, tongue swirling, mouth sucking. She thrust out her breasts even more, giving herself up to him. He released her wrists and grasped both of her breasts, squeezing the ripe meat, sucking almost half of one of her tits into his mouth and pulling on it, then the other.
Until Ruby couldn’t take any more. She jerked her arms down and dropped down out of his, onto her knees on the kitchen floor. She clawed the buttons of Ted’s fly open. He barely had time to catch his breath, grab onto her soft, straightened black hair, before she had his cock out and in her mouth.
“Jesus!” he groaned, watching her, feeling her suck on his pulsating organ.
Ruby was a starving woman, frantically bobbing her head back and forth, lips sealed tight to meaty shaft and cheeks billowing with pressure, sucking and sucking on Ted’s cock. She plunged down to his pubes and pulled back up again, consuming him over and over. His cock was smooth and clean-cut, and it filled her mouth and throat, satiating a small part of her pent-up appetite, but not nearly all of it.
He pulled her to her feet and shoved her back against the wall, reading her need, and reacting to his own. Ruby jumped up into his arms, coiling her own arms around his strong neck, her legs around his narrow waist. He shoved her dress up to her hips and stuck his slathered cock into her dripping wetness.
He went in deep and long, all the way, and they moaned into each other’s mouths. Then kissed, frenched, Ted pumping his hips, pounding his cock into Ruby’s tight, velvety tunnel, the wall and the woman shaking. They were bathed in sweat, burning with lust.
She caught his outstretched tongue between her teeth and urgently sucked on it, feeling every inch of him thrusting into her. He gripped her rippling breasts and pistoned her pussy, driving both of them over the edge.
Ruby desperately clung to the man, shuddering in his arms, biting into his tongue. Wet, wonderful orgasm burst out from between her churned loins and surged through her body and being. Just as Ted groaned and spasmed, blasting white-hot semen into Ruby’s gushing pussy.
• • •
It didn’t end there.
Ruby was a wild woman, on fire with desire. The sensations aroused from having another man’s cock fucking her pussy, her own powerful orgasm as a result, served to inflame her passion still more. It was hot outside, scorching in the kitchen, an inferno in the bedroom.
Ruby grabbed up a small plate of butter and dragged Ted out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into her bedroom. She stared boldly and meaningfully into his eyes the entire way, and he tried to comprehend what she had in mind.
She put it into words, filthy words. “I want you to fuck me in the ass,” she stated, amber eyes ablaze. “I want you to punish my ass.”
He gaped, as she set the butter down on the nightstand and pushed the torn dress off her shoulders, then stood there naked before him. Her body shone with perspiration, glowing in the sunlight illuminating the chintz curtains, her breasts bobbing up and down on her heaving chest, pussy fur matted with her juices and his. Ted’s cock rose up between his legs, even so soon after coming.
Ruby walked over to him, undressed him with quivering hands until he was as starkly naked as she was, his lean body glistening with moisture, long muscles drawn tight. Then she pushed him down onto the edge of
the bed, and sprawled over his knees and cock.
“Spank me! Punish me for what I’ve done and will do!” she yelled.
He looked down at the heaped, dark mounds of her buttocks. He brought his big right hand up, brought it down.
The stifling room shuddered with the crack of each blow. Ruby jumped, butt cheeks singed and rippling wildly, blood rushing to her face, juice to her pussy. Ted smacked her again, and again, smashing the hard flat of his hand down onto her soft, upraised bottom.
His palm burned like his face, like the beautifully rounded buttocks in front of him. He’d never hit a woman; not that she’d liked it. But Ruby was liking it, loving it, trembling naked across his legs and whimpering pleasure with every heavy blow he laid down.
“Harder! Hit me harder!” she shrieked before clenching her teeth and fists, rocking with the impact of a brutal belt to her ass.
Ted’s hand knifed through the air, flailing Ruby’s bum. So fast that the sharp cracks came only split-seconds apart, Ruby’s cheeks gyrating continuously. Her buttocks blazed, seared with sensation. Until, finally, they went almost numb under the endless onslaught, Ted’s crushing palm striking pure pain and pleasure across her beaten bottom.
Ruby pushed herself upright, shaking uncontrollably. She scooped up some of the butter with her fingers, smeared it onto Ted’s cock.
“Christ!” he groaned, getting to his feet, getting greased from balls to hood, his erection coursing out full-length in Ruby’s rubbing hand.
“Now punish me with your cock!” she rasped.
She climbed onto the bed and positioned herself on all fours, like an animal. Her blistered rump stuck up into the air. Ted crawled in behind her, on his knees, clutching his slippery cock and staring at her bum.
“You’re sure—”
“Fuck me!”
He bit his lip and poked his gleaming cap in between Ruby’s battered cheeks, pressed against her sensitive asshole. Ruby flung her hands back and grabbed onto her buttocks and tore them apart, baring her pucker to the man. Her knuckles blazed white on the coal-black flesh of her ass.
Ted grunted, pushing forward as Ruby pushed back.
His hood burst through her ring and sank into her anus, followed by inches and inches of swollen, shining shaft. Ruby moaned like an animal, Ted’s cock stuffing her full of strange, wicked feelings, bloating her bottom and dizzying her head.
He went in all the way, burying his cock in her chute. The heat, the tightness, was incredible. He was gripped deep, his balls pressing up against her cheeks. He grasped her thin waist and pumped his hips, fucking her ass.
Ruby let go of her bum and clutched the bedspread, rocking with the rhythm of Ted’s cock driving back and forth in her anus. Her mouth hung open, her pretty face twisted with raw, exquisite emotion. It felt so weird, so wild, so wonderful—a man fucking her ass.
Ted’s thighs shivered against Ruby’s buttocks as he pumped faster and faster. He knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t, last long under the suffocating, sucking pressure, so he wanted to get in every hard pounding stroke that he could. The crack of damp, heated flesh against flesh filled the gasping room again, along with the hot hiss of air steaming out of rigidly set mouths and flared nostrils.
Ruby, hair flying, body shunted violently to and fro, tore a hand off the bedspread and shoved it between her legs, onto her pussy. “Oh, God, have mercy!” she screamed, instantly jolted by orgasm, her clit engorged beyond belief. She spasmed the full length of her cock-racked body, again and again and again.
Ted growled, thrusting in a frenzy, smashing into Ruby’s bum, reaming her chute. He threw his head back and roared, exploding inside her. His hot cum filled her trembling ass, as she came on the end of his spurting cock.
• • •
He pillow-talked the information out of her later on: the approximate time and date and place that Machine Gun Murray, midwestern bank robber, murderer, and local folk hero, would finally be stealing back into his home state to visit his lonely, abandoned wife. The overheated car had been a swell ruse, the hot-blooded woman’s own desires used to success where all else had failed.
Ted dozed off in Ruby’s arms, in Machine Gun’s bed, intending to sneak out at dawn and report his findings.
Ruby watched the sleeping man, the smile of pure contentment on his face matching the one on hers. Then she slipped out of bed and picked up Ted’s suit jacket and pants off the floor. She carried them out to the parlor, intent on ironing them for him before he woke up.
Something fell out of a jacket pocket—a leather billfold. She picked it up, flipped it open, stared at the gold badge inside: FBI.
From a distance, the small, white farmhouse appeared peaceful, slumbering in the warmth of the gray early dawn. But then, suddenly, a flash of white light lit up the bedroom window of the house. Followed quickly by another flash, and another. Then the sound of gunfire, thundering over the flat, barren, hostile land.
Dirty
Carla S. Pennington
I had avoided Preston long enough. He couldn’t understand why, especially after I was the one who had pursued him. We’d gone out on a few dates in the two months since I’d approached him in the auto shop where we both were getting the oil changed in our cars. I’d taken a chance and stepped to him after we’d made eye contact a few times. His light, deep-set eyes tried to roam away from me, but they didn’t stay away for long. My skinny jeans were fitting nice and tight on my perfectly round ass and I made sure that he saw it every time he glanced in my direction. The jeans were tucked snugly inside my black, thigh-high, four-inch Jessica Simpson boots that added a few extra inches to my short frame. My shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair was freshly relaxed so the slanted bob I was rocking swayed with every step I took. I was a five-star chick and he recognized it.
On his last glance at me, his eyes stayed locked. It was do or die and I did. I wasn’t the type of woman who sat back and waited for a man to make the first move. I went after what I wanted and, as it usually did, my first move paid off.
I had my reasons for avoiding him, though. He was so damn sexy and I was trying to stop jumping in guys’ beds soon after I met them. I figured that was the reason for always catching Mr. Right Now instead of Mr. Right. I had a high sex drive that I was trying to control, but Preston wouldn’t let me. It definitely didn’t help that he sounded like the singer Tank. I would imagine him singing “Sex Music” while stroking inside me. My numerous sex toys were beginning to play out. I needed the real thing, so when Preston asked me out again, I prayed, gave myself a pep talk, and then agreed to the date.
“Corrine, you can’t grip the cue that hard, sweetie.” Preston laughed as he adjusted the pool stick in my hand and between my fingers.
“Stop laughing.” I pouted. “I’m doing the best I can. I’m not a pro at this like you are.”
“Just relax.” He laughed again. “Do you need me to help you?” he asked as he stepped behind me. Preston and I had been dating for nearly two months and hadn’t gotten past first base, but the feel of his body against mine was quickly moving us to second. “Sweetie, you have to hold it like this,” he instructed as he placed his hand over mine.
At that moment, I didn’t give a damn about that pool stick or that solid yellow number seven ball that I was trying to hit, but I kept my grip on the stick, wishing that it was the one inside his lightly starched jeans. I quickly shook those naughty thoughts out of my head and turned my focus back to the table.
“Preston, I can’t hit that ball,” I whined as I glanced around the table, searching for the perfect position to strike.
“Corrine, you can’t be afraid to use your body.”
“Huh?” I questioned as I looked back at him.
“If you have to, get all up on this table and then do it.” He chuckled. To hell with that, I said to myself. I took a deep breath when I felt his breath on my neck. “Sweetie, you’ve got to feel it in your bones,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re the one in control. Don’
t be afraid of the stick because it sure as hell ain’t afraid of you.”
That did it. I dropped the stick on the table and stepped away from him. He was making this too hard and that I Am King cologne he was wearing wasn’t helping either.
“Are you okay?” He smiled.
“I’m okay,” I lied. That smile was a sure sign that he realized what he was doing.
“Do you want me to get us another pitcher of beer?”
Hell naw! I was already staggering a little and didn’t need anything else to make me completely drunk.
I smiled. “I’m good, Preston.”
“Well, do you want to finish this game or what?”
“We can, since we have the table for twenty more minutes.”
I retrieved the pool stick and he anxiously stood behind me.
“Don’t put too much pressure on the stick,” he breathed in my ear.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Let me help you.”
My body froze when he got all up on me. I wished he would’ve ordered that second pitcher of beer. The room was getting hot and I felt sweat building on my forehead and chest. He gave me a puzzled look when I dropped the stick on the table again. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I think we need to get out of here,” I said when I turned around to him.
“Oh really?” He smiled devilishly.
I stepped up to him and threw my tongue down his throat. Who was I fooling? I wanted that man. Moments later, we were out the door and inside his jet black Magnum, which fit his chiseled running back’s body to a tee. I couldn’t tell if the leather seats were hot because of the weather or from the steam building between my legs. He hurriedly hopped on the interstate with his hand stroking the inside of my thigh. I naughtily pushed it farther up and he fingered me until we made it to his house. We raced out of the car and he anxiously lifted me around his waist. No doubt, we were hungry for each other.