Chapter 14 #2
Still not believing what’s happening, I grab the phallic object and test its heft in my hand. Puh. I’m bigger, both in girth and length . . . so long as we don’t count the bulbous base. We are not a monster with a coke-can cock, after all.
“See how it’s curved and bumpy?” She points as if I don’t have eyes. “That’s gonna feel amazing. Then you can think about how good you made me feel while you’re beating your dick into the piss bucket later.”
“How kind of you to consider my needs,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Maybe you should just fuck yourself with the squash while I watch.”
She hops off the counter and spins around, then leans on the wooden surface. Peering at me over her shoulder, she gives her ass a little wiggle.
On second thought, maybe I’m being a bit closed-minded.
Her fingers push between her legs, and as she pulls her cotton shorts and lacy underwear to the side, exposing herself to me, I’m drawn to her, squash first.
After removing the stem, I ready the gourd by gently twisting the slender head and coating it in her desire. It takes some doing, but I manage to work all six inches inside her, right up to the base. Her pink-painted toenails curl into her sandals as I fuck her a bit harder.
“That’s a good girl,” I whisper. “You take that bumpy son of a bitch.”
She tries to push me away. “Never mind!”
“Sorry,” I say, though I don’t mean it. How can she expect me to take this seriously?
She brushes her hair out of her face with an exasperated grumble, and I feel like an ass. My needy little beauty is begging for release, and I’m being insensitive. Isn’t this exactly why I find her so intriguing? These odd little asks?
I go back to work and find a good rhythm. With the diligence of a sex toy, I pinch her pert little nipples as I keep a steady pace with that squash. Her hips buck, and her eyes roll, but I just can’t seem to get her where she needs to go.
“Fuck, I need your cock,” she groans. After a brief internal battle, she opens her eyes. “Just . . . fuck me.”
I speed up with the squash again, but she grips my wrist and stops me.
“What? No. Not with that.” She reaches between us and grips the gym shorts I borrowed from Aven because I forgot what regular men wear when knocking around outside of work. Her hand slides beneath the waistband, and I nearly collapse from a shock of pleasure when she grips my cock. “I need this.”
Before she can change her mind, I toss the squash back into the box with the rest as my shorts and underwear drop to my ankles. I have never felt more naked than I do right now with clothes on. I go to step fully out of them, but Josie waves me toward her.
“No time! He could come back at any second, and I’m already so close.”
I shuffle closer and knock her legs a little wider, dropping her pussy at the perfect angle.
She slips onto my cock as if she were made for me.
Bracing herself on the counter, she pushes against me as I hold her waist and fuck her at a painfully slow pace.
Her head falls back at the apex of each thrust.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans. “I’m close. Just stay at that speed. It’s coming over me like a fucking wave.”
I love it when she tells me what it feels like for her.
I love hearing what I’m doing to her. It’s not anything I could explain to her.
I can’t put it into words. Nothing compares to being inside her.
It’s not fireworks and doves and ringing bells.
It’s wildfires and wind and the earth opening up.
Each experience brings some new layer I’ve yet to discover, and I only want to explore her more.
And that’s when it dawns on me. Despite the strange sexual conquests, murder, and odd games we play, there is still one experience Josie has yet to share with me.
I’ve yet to kiss her.
“I said don’t stop,” she whispers, and I realize I started to think a bit too hard and nearly lost the beat she needs.
I ease my hips forward again, and she starts to shake. My hand moves between us, and I look at the place where we join as I stroke her back entrance to heighten her pleasure. Unable to hold back any longer, she drops her forehead to the counter and moans long and hard.
“That’s my beauty,” I whisper.
The door to the camper flies open, and Chef Maurice drops a brown paper bag on the entryway floor. Onions and a few potatoes roll across the linoleum as Josie and I scramble to make it seem like we were doing anything other than what we were. It’s hard to argue with my ass in the wind, however.
“Get out! Out!” Chef’s face turns a shade of red I’ll see in my nightmares.
I reach for my shorts, panicking as I nearly fall trying to pull them up. Josie is unbothered, giggling up a storm as my foot connects with a potato and sends it skittering down the middle of the bus.
Chef’s eyes widen, and he blocks the door as I try to escape. “What the hell is that? Is that mayo on my counter? And why are there peppers on the floor?” He looks between us. “Is everyone a filthy food fucker? I can’t work in these conditions!”
“We came here so that you can tell me where King was the night Charity cheated on Ice Pick,” Josie says. The girl has guts, bringing that up at a time like this, but it works in my favor this time.
He points a finger at me and bares his teeth. “I won’t keep your secrets. He didn’t send my assistants back to the facility. He spent all evening torturing and killing them, just as I’m going to do to both of you if you don’t get out of my sight!”
With a dramatic sidestep, he throws out his arm and commands us to head for the door. We tuck our tails and do exactly that. We don’t stop stepping until we’re outside in the fresh air.
We come to a stop, both of us smiling in disbelief that we escaped. But then her smile falls, and she grows serious.
She rubs her arms, looking down at the ground. “You really didn’t fuck Charity, did you?”
I shake my head. “I did not.”
She takes a moment to come to terms with her idea of me and the reality of me. It’s difficult when the two sides don’t match.
“You still meant what you said earlier, though, right?” she asks. “About finding out who fucked over Ice Pick?”
I give her a single nod. “By the end of this trip, someone will pay for hurting my friend.”
Before I can elaborate further, a shout emanates from the bus. “What in the hell were you cooking, and why is there so much shit in my trash can?”
Josie and I stare at each other.
“Is that a penis?” Chef bellows.
I grab Josie’s hand. Together, we make a break for the safety of our RV. It’s getting late, and I need some rest. We have a long drive tomorrow, and I have so much to think about.