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Authors: Mj Fields
Tags: General Fiction
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less pain than I felt when I finally fell asleep: pain in my chest for what I am about to face; pain in my head from the hangover; pain in my balls because she is so blatantly sexual; and a pain in my ass because, well, Madison again.
Three , she has been with three fucking people. Never in a million years would I have guessed the girl who transforms the concrete floors of Forever Four into a runway show, works the back of a chair like a stripper pole, or makes picking up something she “drops” feel like you’re watching a porno had so few partners.
Three!
Well, fuck.
I look over to see she is leaning forward while her leg is bouncing. She looks uncomfortable. I definitely feel the same after waking up to her smell. I am instantly hard.
My dick has never had a name like every other asshole in the world until right now. He is the Cassius to my Brutus. The leader of the war I waged on one college sophomore, one sister of a friend, one coworker’s pussy last night … and this morning.
She glances over to find me staring at her tits. I close my eyes, hoping she didn’t notice.
“You awake?”
She noticed.
“I am.”
“I really have to pee,” she says with urgency in her voice.
I position the seat into a sitting position, which is fucking painful. “You should have pulled over before you got to this point.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
Dammit, was she being sweet? Or, was she baiting me? A Madison Black trap, perhaps?
She punches the accelerator, and I gasp, “Holy shit!”
“I’m sorry, Billy, but I know how fond you are of this car’s upholstery,” she says.
“You’re going to get a damn ticket, Madison,” I warn her calmly.
She glances over and whines, “If you keep wishing it on me, I will.”
I decide to just shut the hell up.
Madison pouts, pisses, and moans. Whining is a rarity, so she must be in some serious pain.
I see the sign. “One mile.”
“Ugh,” she says, squirming as she weaves in and out of traffic.
“Madison, you are going to draw attention to—”
She holds up one finger. “Don’t you say it.”
I nod and agree, because that one finger has me thinking about three and about the fact that, even though she and I could never have a relationship, the one guy who gets her is truly one lucky son of a bitch and probably insane. There will never be a dull moment with her; that’s for sure.
“The exit.” The excitement she has in her voice makes me laugh … until she cuts across three lanes to get to it, and it just so happens, one of the cars is a highway patrolman.
“Madison, you better slow—”
She reaches over and facepalms my head and giggles. “Sh!”
“Mads, look in the mirror,” I tell her, pulling her hand away.
I watch her eyes dart to the mirror. Then sheer panic covers her face.
“This is your fault,” she groans.
“No—”
“Well, fuck that, I’m not pissing my pants.”
She doesn’t slow down. Hell, she speeds up at the off-ramp and blows through the yellow light. Then she flies into the Quickie Mart parking lot, nearly dives out of the car before even putting it in gear, and runs into the store.
I turn off the vehicle and watch as the very angry officer walks over to the driver’s side door that she left open.
“Will you please step out of the car?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt.
I walk around to the trunk, and he holds up his hand away from my body.
“Do you have any weapons?” is the first thing he asks.
“No, officer.”
“Whose vehicle is this?”
“It’s mine.”
“I need the registration and insurance information.”
“Would you like me to get that for you now?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid. “That’s why I asked.”
“Of course.” I turn around and walk to the passenger side of the car, open it, grab the information from the glove box, walk back over, and hand it to him.
“Your license?” I must look at him oddly because he glares at me. “Is there a
Three , she has been with three fucking people. Never in a million years would I have guessed the girl who transforms the concrete floors of Forever Four into a runway show, works the back of a chair like a stripper pole, or makes picking up something she “drops” feel like you’re watching a porno had so few partners.
Three!
Well, fuck.
I look over to see she is leaning forward while her leg is bouncing. She looks uncomfortable. I definitely feel the same after waking up to her smell. I am instantly hard.
My dick has never had a name like every other asshole in the world until right now. He is the Cassius to my Brutus. The leader of the war I waged on one college sophomore, one sister of a friend, one coworker’s pussy last night … and this morning.
She glances over to find me staring at her tits. I close my eyes, hoping she didn’t notice.
“You awake?”
She noticed.
“I am.”
“I really have to pee,” she says with urgency in her voice.
I position the seat into a sitting position, which is fucking painful. “You should have pulled over before you got to this point.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
Dammit, was she being sweet? Or, was she baiting me? A Madison Black trap, perhaps?
She punches the accelerator, and I gasp, “Holy shit!”
“I’m sorry, Billy, but I know how fond you are of this car’s upholstery,” she says.
“You’re going to get a damn ticket, Madison,” I warn her calmly.
She glances over and whines, “If you keep wishing it on me, I will.”
I decide to just shut the hell up.
Madison pouts, pisses, and moans. Whining is a rarity, so she must be in some serious pain.
I see the sign. “One mile.”
“Ugh,” she says, squirming as she weaves in and out of traffic.
“Madison, you are going to draw attention to—”
She holds up one finger. “Don’t you say it.”
I nod and agree, because that one finger has me thinking about three and about the fact that, even though she and I could never have a relationship, the one guy who gets her is truly one lucky son of a bitch and probably insane. There will never be a dull moment with her; that’s for sure.
“The exit.” The excitement she has in her voice makes me laugh … until she cuts across three lanes to get to it, and it just so happens, one of the cars is a highway patrolman.
“Madison, you better slow—”
She reaches over and facepalms my head and giggles. “Sh!”
“Mads, look in the mirror,” I tell her, pulling her hand away.
I watch her eyes dart to the mirror. Then sheer panic covers her face.
“This is your fault,” she groans.
“No—”
“Well, fuck that, I’m not pissing my pants.”
She doesn’t slow down. Hell, she speeds up at the off-ramp and blows through the yellow light. Then she flies into the Quickie Mart parking lot, nearly dives out of the car before even putting it in gear, and runs into the store.
I turn off the vehicle and watch as the very angry officer walks over to the driver’s side door that she left open.
“Will you please step out of the car?”
“Yes, sir,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt.
I walk around to the trunk, and he holds up his hand away from my body.
“Do you have any weapons?” is the first thing he asks.
“No, officer.”
“Whose vehicle is this?”
“It’s mine.”
“I need the registration and insurance information.”
“Would you like me to get that for you now?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid. “That’s why I asked.”
“Of course.” I turn around and walk to the passenger side of the car, open it, grab the information from the glove box, walk back over, and hand it to him.
“Your license?” I must look at him oddly because he glares at me. “Is there a
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