Four writers for the price of one blog
His best friend nudged him in the ribs.
“Dude. Dude. Hottie at nine o’ clock.”
“Are we in a John Hughes movie, Georgie? Calm the fuck down.” Danny sucked the head from his beer and stared at his reflection in the mirrored bar. His hair was such a resplendent auburn it looked like his head was on fire in the dim light. He’d been a ginge for 32 years, but the sight never failed to surprise him. It was almost funny.
“Dude. Broseph. You gotta see her, man. Just take a look.” Georgie’s nervous energy was irritating, but love conquers all. He licked the beer mustache from his lips and turned toward the crowd.
“Where is she?”
“Nine o’ clock. In the little white dress.” His buddy was a grown man, but he still wore a big-eyed expression of a boy when he was excited.
Dan’s pale green eyes searched the crowd for the hottie, but he just saw tired-looking regulars. “I’m not seeing anything remotely hot, man.”
Georgie rolled his eyes and pointed. “There. In the shadows by the window.”
Something flashed, and he got a good look at her face as she lit a match. She looked right at him while she lit her cigarette. Her feline eyes moved from his face to the flame and she watched it burn, enthralled. Her glossy red lips made him feel himself. Sweat made his scalp itch. When the flame reached her fingers, she dropped the match into the ashtray.
Her features were blurred in a pearly cloud of smoke.
“-she something else? Prime.”
“Hmm?” He patted Georgie on the back absent-mindedly. “What’d you say?”
“Ah…” His friend smiled. “She’s hot, right?”
She was blowing at cherry of her cigarette, evening it out. Her long fingernails gleamed predatory in the semi-darkess. He looked down at Georgie. They were like Abbot and Costello…if Abbot had been a flaming redhead, and Costello a lot shorter.
Neither of them had a snowball’s chance in hell with her.
“Let’s go talk to her, Danny.” Georgie tugged on his elbow eagerly. He watched her take another drag on her cigarette, then stare at the cherry again while blowing out a perfect smoke ring.
“Why don’t I bring her over here?” He sweat at the prospect of talking to her, but his curiosity was up and he wasn’t a man to turn down a challenge. A cute, chipmunk-faced college girl sidled up to Georgie and smiled. He forgot about the dragon lady in five seconds flat.
“Good luck, man.”
Dan bought a fresh beer and walked to her table. She didn’t even wait for him to introduce himself.
“Holy Mother of God…” her voice was husky, hushed. She put down her cigarette and gave him crooked smile. “Sit down.”
It sounded more like an order than an invitation. He pulled up a chair and straddled it.
She eyed the empty space beside her in the booth and chuckled. “Afraid I’ll bite, hmm?”
He got up and slid beside her. She smelled like smoke and sex – the ghost of her come and sweat mixed with perfume. He clutched his beer so hard his fingers hurt. He was usually ready with a joke, but his mouth was dry. It hadn’t been this dry since middle school.
“So, why didn’t your friend come over here to introduce himself?” He heard her legs rub together as she crossed her legs. The stretchy fabric of her dress rode up to her hips and he saw skin. Warm, humid skin. She saw him looking and did nothing other than take a stiff drag of her cigarette and point it towards the bar. “Doesn’t matter anyway. He seems to be getting cozy with the coed.”
He didn’t bother to look. She crushed out her cigarette and took out another match and lit it. The flame was so close to her fingers he waited for her to wince in pain, but she smiled as it kissed her fingertip. She dropped it into the ashtray reluctantly and the filter flashed and burned to ash.
“Is it real?” She took another cigarette out of a black pack and lit another match. He watched her silently. She couldn’t be older than 24, but she had the flavor…the mystique of a much more experienced woman. She blew smoke at his face. “You awake, suge?” She waved in front of his face.
He shook his head. “Yes. Of course. Name’s Danny.” He gave her his sexiest grin.
She raked her fingers through his thick hair. “Is it real or dyed?” Her breasts pressed against his side, warm and firm. She was not wearing a bra.
“It’s all me, baby,” he said. He was so accustomed to comments about his hair that they didn’t faze him anymore – even when people tried to poke fun. When it came to women, he had learned many ways of silencing them with a word…or a touch.
“It’s…” She trembled so violently it shook him. “It’s perfect.”
He couldn’t believe his luck – she was a ginge chaser. He cut to the chase. “You know, I’m just as red down-”
She kissed him quiet. Her tongue slid deep into his mouth and wrapped around his, massaging his cock to life. She squeezed his inner thigh painfully. When she pulled away, she didn’t give him a chance to talk.
She sat on his lap for a couple of endless seconds. She leaned back into him and ran her fingers through his hair again, smiling at his heat.
“We’re thinking the same thing, aren’t we?” She moved his hand between her legs where she was very wet. The sounds of the bar faded away when he found her clit. She was impossibly hot, throbbing against his fingers. His hand trembled – it was the first time he’d ever touched a woman’s cunt in public. Their lips were so close together he smelled the smoke in her breath…but then she pulled her skirt down and stood up.
“Follow me.” She took his slippery hand in hers and walked to the back of the bar. The scent of sour beer and disinfectant hung heavy in the air as she pulled them into a private corner. She kissed him again, taking his hair in her fist. “I can almost feel it…”
He was already aching to fuck. He pulled her skirt high over her hips and slid three fingers inside her. She groaned in his mouth and tightening around him. She suddenly stopped kissing him and dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands moved over his hard on with a deliberation that made him self-conscious. She tugged on his sparse ginger pubes.
“Not a touch blond. Perfect…” She sucked noisily. She didn’t use her hands – it was all lips and tongue. He put his hands on her shoulders so he wouldn’t fall over and his cock went down her throat. She pulled away, gagging. Spittle ran down her chin. His cheeks burned.
“I-I didn’t mean to do that.”
She wiped her chin on his hip and stood up. “That’s too bad.”
He pulled down her dress to expose her tits. His jaw dropped.
Her torso was covered in flames. They wrapped around her belly button and licked at her breasts. Little red gems embedded in the tattoo glimmered in the light of the exit sign.
“That’s…beautiful,” he said. “How long did it take?” He felt lame just as soon as the words left his mouth. She faced the wall and stuck her ass out. The insides of her thighs were shiny with wetness. She put his hands on her ribs, where the flames danced with each breath.
He sank into her without another word. Her perfect ass jiggled with each thrust, and her skin was so slick with sweat it was hard to hold on. He traced the tongues of flame on her back, then licked. He was bigger than the average man, so he had gotten into the habit not entering a woman too deep, but those last couple of inches felt so cold compared to her heat. He wanted to be sucked to the balls by her deliciously swollen pussy lips. He watched her wetness drip to the root of his cock and soak him.
She wiggled her ass. “Come on Danny. You’ve got more than that.” She pulled him closer. Her breath was hot on his lips. “Fuck me like you want to. Make it hurt.” He thrust slowly into her, measuring. She hissed. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not afraid of a little pain.” Her muscles clamped rhythmically around him, squeezing the head of his cock. “Do it.”
He grabbed her hair in his fist and sunk into her until she barked into her arm with pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d had the filthy satisfaction of hearing his balls slapping against a woman’s cunt. He growled and bit into the firm skin of her shoulder. Her hand turned into a claw on his hip, and the pain made his balls tighten in warning. He yanked on her hair again and noticed something on the back of her neck…a scar. He thrust into her hard enough to make her squeal and took a closer look. She’d branded flames into her skin.
The matches, cigarettes and smoke, flames and burned flesh…
Something clicked in his sex-soporific brain.
He fucked her deep and fast, until the friction almost hurt. Her whole body tensed against him, and she gave him a wide-eyed look.
“Is it hot?” He breathed hot in her ear.
Her lower lip quivered. He pinched her clit roughly and she whimpered.
“Harder!” The corners of her mouth glistened with saliva.
Everything burned. His muscles, his skin, his chest. Her breath burned his lips and the heat of her cunt burned his dick but for a few shining seconds before she came he understood her desire for such intense heat. He felt totally, completely alive.
“I’m gonna make it burn.” He rubbed against her as he fucked, creating a heat that made her drip off his balls like scalding wax. His cockflesh tingled with the prelude to friction burn but he fucked on. He licked the sweat off the branded flames, then bit down. Her cunt was a hot slippery fist clenched around his cock, then she nearly fell to her knees with her orgasm. The shocked look on her face as she twitched on him made him taste his own orgasm at the back of his throat.
“You’re hot,” she said, gasping. “Never in my-” The words turned into a cry as he fucked her into her second orgasm. Her rough moans made his cock pulse once, twice, then he was spurting deep inside her. She ground into him and sighed into his face. Their mingled heat was so intense that his come cooled her insides.
“Wow…” She pulled the top of her dress back on. Her scent was maddening, so got on his knees like for a taste. As he licked her clean, he felt raised flesh on her inner thigh right by her pussy. She smiled down at him and spread her legs so he could see what she had branded there.
“That you are,” he said, then slid his tongue in her still-hot seam.