Chapter 24 - Porter
If you think I’m pretty - Artemas ?
I ’ll never admit it but this stupid theme night has been a success. Word spread rather quickly among the women in town that it was country night and within an hour we had a healthy number of people ready for a good time out. Even having to deal with the table that got handsy hasn't put a dampener on anything and I’ve been able to spend a decent portion of the night catching up on the district's dirty secrets.
“You sure I can't get you another drink?” I ask my would-be friend, Hades. He's the president of a nearby Motorcycle Club who stops by randomly to share information and anything else that could be useful. It's not often he’s here hunting for someone, so I'll be interested to see if the guy appears at some stage.
“Na, I'm good. I'm not sure how long I'll be hanging around for. I had confirmation that the guy I'm looking for is in the area but he has yet to appear,” he says, his voice so low you would struggle to hear it if you weren't accustomed to how Hades operates.
“Let me know if you need the basement at all and I'll get it set up.”
He nods his head at me and I leave him to return to the bar, which is in dire need of a restock after both Charlie and Mel got a little carried away at giving people mouth shots.
Hades and I met a few years ago after I stumbled across him serving some justice outside in the car park. I had been watching him slowly carve away at this man while a woman lay unconscious nearby.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened and what was currently happening. I must have been watching for at least thirty minutes before he noticed me leaning against the wall, lost in the shadows with him.
We stared at each other silently before I recommended he start with a rusty nail in each fingertip, preferably to a wall but it still gives an agonising build up of pain. Similarly, cutting off each fingertip is also good, however, you have to keep on top of where they all go. The last thing you need is someone stumbling across a loose body part. Once he was done I showed him the basement, my personal torture room and we took care of the body, called the sheriff about the woman and we've had an understanding ever since.
Walking over to Charlie I can't help but take a second to admire her. Cowboy boots, short skirt, and a flannel shirt tied around her waist.
Who knew I had a thing for cowgirls?
“Your tits look good in this,” I whisper in her ear, coming up behind her. “It's like a present I get to unwrap later.”
“I guess you deserve a treat after protecting Mel's virtue with those guys,” she chuckles and I laugh along with her.
Mel is many things but she is definitely not the morality police. I've seen her hold a broken bottleneck up to a guy's throat and I have no doubt that she would have handled herself tonight either, but the whole point is she shouldn't have to. That man should have kept his hands to himself, period.
“I'm going to do a restock so be mindful of the cellar door being open,” I say, giving her neck a quick kiss.
Looking out at the room I'm pleased to see things are starting to slow down. Lowering the music volume a little bit and brightening the lights slightly is my soft way of telling people to start packing up for the night and It doesn't take long for a few regulars to take note.
Taking a quick inventory of what bottles need replacing, I head down, gathering what I need and rest my full crate on the old cellar stairs for a second. Looking up I see Charlie near the opening in the floor, giving me a perfect view up that short skirt of hers. The perfect view of her bare pussy.
“Charlie.”
My voice is so abrupt I hear a small squeak come from her as her body jumps in surprise. Turning slightly, she looks down at me as I hold my hand up and gesture for her to come here with my index finger.
Walking to the far side of the small space I settle myself on the single chair and wait for her to find me; faintly hearing her call out to Mel that she will be back soon before the creak of the old stairs gives away her location.
Half my body is covered in shadows, the glow of the single lightbulb leaving only space for darkness or light. Dust dances in the air like fireflies, the tiny particles glowing as they move among the few rows of stored alcohol.
“Come to me, baby.”
My voice is soft despite my growing anger and my hardening cock. Tentatively she steps forward, not stopping until she's standing between my spread legs. I reach out, rubbing my hands up and down the backs of her thighs as I rest my head against her soft stomach, her hands moving gently across my head.
“Tell me why, when I looked up just before that I saw your sweet pussy underneath your skirt.”
Sighing, she moves one of her hands down my neck and underneath my collar.
“Surprise,” she says with a slight hesitancy in her voice.
Leaning back from her I settle into the chair, keeping my hands on her thighs as I tug her a little closer.
“Unbuckle my belt and take me out,” I order.
Her thighs squeeze together as her soft hands tentatively reach down and pull at my zipper. I can't help the hissing sound from escaping as she reaches inside my pants and frees my hard cock, giving it a light stroke as she does. Pushing her away from me slightly, I bring my legs together allowing her an easier path to sit on me.
“Climb on, baby. We're gonna talk about this, but I want to be deep inside you so there's no doubt who this pussy belongs to.”
My words are gruff, but she lets me move her legs to straddle my hips, placing the head of my cock at her entrance and eases herself down. We’ve had no foreplay, no teasing and my girl is still as wet as the fucking ocean. Both of us let out a small sigh as she slides down my length until she is firmly seated.
Taking her in, she’s breathtaking. Her breasts are in my face begging to be touched and her hips move ever so slightly, seeking friction as I hold her firmly in place.
“It's not you I don't trust. I just need you to know that it's not you. Gods, you’re the first person I've trusted in years.”
Slowly I start to move my hands, rocking her hips against me.
“There are bad people out there and sometimes they try and take things that are not freely given. I don't want someone to do that to you, baby. I get that this might seem a little much because I know, I know you can handle yourself. But I can't handle it, okay? It's the what if’s that eat away at me.”
I grasp her hips tighter, rocking her slightly harder against me. Her soft whimpers turn breathy as she closes her eyes and tilts her head back.
“Look at me, moye spaseniye [9] ,” I murmur, as I place soft kisses against the swell of her breasts.
“Can you tell me the next time you want to let my pussy out without anything on? I love that you want to, baby. I love that it means I get to think of all the ways I can bend you over and take you, but it also means I'm going to watch you like a hawk. That if any man even thinks about taking what's mine I'll end his life before he has the chance. No man touches what's mine and gets to live, Charlie.”
“Porter, please. I need more,” she says, as her soft moans fill the small space.
“Shhhh, I don't want anyone to hear what's mine either. Don't want anyone to taste, touch or think about the pussy wrapped around my cock.”
Moving my hand across her hip my thumb finds her clit and I let it rest there, pressing against it but not giving her any more.
“Promise you'll tell me next time. So I can claim you before you leave. So I can fill you up and mark you with my cum. Let you carry on with your day as it slowly drips out of you. Let anyone who dares touch you know you’re mine . Does my little whore understand?”
The words hang between us. A tentative moment where I’m not sure if she will be okay with how possessive I am. With her hips still rocking she places her arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine.
“Yes. Mark me, claim me, fill me, Porter. I want to feel you inside me even when you're not here,” she moans into my mouth.
She is wrapped around me so tightly I never want this moment to end. To feel her like this, desperate and so eager to please makes every rock of her hips a battle of wills not to come inside her before she's ready. I press into her clit harder, giving her the pressure she's been looking for as we lose ourselves in one another. Pulling her shirt open and biting down on her cleavage as I come deep inside her. The small lines of my teeth imprinted across the swell of her chest if anyone dared to look.
“Be careful,” she pants, her body resting against me as we both try and catch our breaths. “You're making it really hard not to fall in love with you.”
Kissing my neck, she slowly eases off my lap and pulls her skirt down, turning away from me; the blush creeping up her neck from a confession I don't think she meant to admit but one that was said anyway. On the tip of my tongue, the words fall, baby, are desperate to escape but I can’t quite make that final leap of faith and say them. Fall, and I’ll catch you. Fall, and I’ll love you forever.
“Hey, is there another room down here?” she questions, walking toward a nondescript door partially blocked with bottles of Vodka. The brief period of time where I could have confessed my feelings, gone.
“It's the basement. I keep a few tools in there is all.” Kissing the side of her head, I sort my belt out and follow her up the stairs. The sight of her glistening pussy and thighs covered in our combined cum making me hard all over again.