Read Online Drifter's Blues (Erotic Noir) by P.J. Tallis - Free Book Online
Authors: P.J. Tallis
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anything but keep on the move.
From the streetcorners hookers wolf-whistled and called to him. He ignored them, as he did the muttered offers of the drug dealers who approached him with unseasonably heavy overcoats held open to display their wares. Everywhere around him the city teemed with restless life and Kyle threw himself into its center, because to be alone right now would be to sink into a swamp of brooding, and he didn’t need that.
Everywhere he went, whatever he did, Donna was right there with him. The smile on her lips that lit up her eyes, the sinuous curl of her arms twining round his neck and her legs round his thighs, the unbearable firm thrusting globes of her breasts against his chest: all were as vivid to him as if he was still in the chalet with her. His cock, still aching from the day’s activities, could feel the warm tight slippery sheath of her vagina round it. And the smells of her… they lingered ineradicably in his nostrils, her faint perfume and the pheromonal smell of her pores, the light aroma of her shampoo and the musky sex-odor of her pussy.
Kyle had smoked a little reefer in his time but had never done harder drugs. But he thought he could guess now what crack addiction was like. His craving for Donna was all-consuming, more powerful than the drive to eat or drink or even piss. And once he’d indulged himself in the fiery glory of her body, once they’d ridden each other to an awesome peak of excitement and pleasure, he experienced only a fleeting comedown before his craving reared its head again, even more intense than it had been before.
Three days , he thought. Three whole days before I even see her again. And even then, we probably won’t get a chance to do it. The thought made him despair, gave him the urge to fling himself onto the road in front of a truck. Maybe he could hang around the Thurgood property tomorrow or the next day to see if he could catch a glimpse of her? Surely she’d go out some time?
Yeah, dude , he thought. Why don’t you just get a long-lens camera and take snapshots of her. Why don’t you break into her room and steal her panties to sniff. A criminal record as a stalker. That’ll look real swell on your resume.
Still, he knew the next few days were going to be torture. The four days – four days, Jesus – after that until next Monday were going to be even harder.
He forced his thoughts away from Donna and her body as he stalked the streets, not just because his exhausted cock was already heaving itself up painfully into a standing position in his jeans, but because there was something else he needed to think about, even if he didn’t want to.
He’d agreed to commit a crime. To break into another man’s house and steal something of enormous value.
Kyle wasn’t given to self-delusion, but right now he wished he had the ability to convince himself that what he’d agreed to do was somehow not wrong. That a rich, arrogant bastard like Blair Thurgood deserved to lose some of his fortune. That he, Kyle, was somehow performing a noble, revolutionary service to society.
But he couldn’t. He was going to cross a line, in the full knowledge that what he was performing was a felony and that if caught he would go to jail for a very long time. And he was doing it for one of the most ancient reasons of all: because a woman had asked him to, and because he loved her enough to risk everything for her.
There. He’d said it to himself, even if he hadn’t to Donna yet. He was in love with her. Yes, he was pussywhipped; there was no point in pretending that wasn’t part of it. But it wasn’t just the promise of more sex, or the threat of its removal, that motivated him. Just talking to Donna, even when they were fully clothed, delighted him. He loved the quirky mobility of her mouth, her funny yet seductive eyes. The modulation of her voice. The gentle way she touched his cheek, almost chastely at times.
He’d break in, and steal the painting, and
From the streetcorners hookers wolf-whistled and called to him. He ignored them, as he did the muttered offers of the drug dealers who approached him with unseasonably heavy overcoats held open to display their wares. Everywhere around him the city teemed with restless life and Kyle threw himself into its center, because to be alone right now would be to sink into a swamp of brooding, and he didn’t need that.
Everywhere he went, whatever he did, Donna was right there with him. The smile on her lips that lit up her eyes, the sinuous curl of her arms twining round his neck and her legs round his thighs, the unbearable firm thrusting globes of her breasts against his chest: all were as vivid to him as if he was still in the chalet with her. His cock, still aching from the day’s activities, could feel the warm tight slippery sheath of her vagina round it. And the smells of her… they lingered ineradicably in his nostrils, her faint perfume and the pheromonal smell of her pores, the light aroma of her shampoo and the musky sex-odor of her pussy.
Kyle had smoked a little reefer in his time but had never done harder drugs. But he thought he could guess now what crack addiction was like. His craving for Donna was all-consuming, more powerful than the drive to eat or drink or even piss. And once he’d indulged himself in the fiery glory of her body, once they’d ridden each other to an awesome peak of excitement and pleasure, he experienced only a fleeting comedown before his craving reared its head again, even more intense than it had been before.
Three days , he thought. Three whole days before I even see her again. And even then, we probably won’t get a chance to do it. The thought made him despair, gave him the urge to fling himself onto the road in front of a truck. Maybe he could hang around the Thurgood property tomorrow or the next day to see if he could catch a glimpse of her? Surely she’d go out some time?
Yeah, dude , he thought. Why don’t you just get a long-lens camera and take snapshots of her. Why don’t you break into her room and steal her panties to sniff. A criminal record as a stalker. That’ll look real swell on your resume.
Still, he knew the next few days were going to be torture. The four days – four days, Jesus – after that until next Monday were going to be even harder.
He forced his thoughts away from Donna and her body as he stalked the streets, not just because his exhausted cock was already heaving itself up painfully into a standing position in his jeans, but because there was something else he needed to think about, even if he didn’t want to.
He’d agreed to commit a crime. To break into another man’s house and steal something of enormous value.
Kyle wasn’t given to self-delusion, but right now he wished he had the ability to convince himself that what he’d agreed to do was somehow not wrong. That a rich, arrogant bastard like Blair Thurgood deserved to lose some of his fortune. That he, Kyle, was somehow performing a noble, revolutionary service to society.
But he couldn’t. He was going to cross a line, in the full knowledge that what he was performing was a felony and that if caught he would go to jail for a very long time. And he was doing it for one of the most ancient reasons of all: because a woman had asked him to, and because he loved her enough to risk everything for her.
There. He’d said it to himself, even if he hadn’t to Donna yet. He was in love with her. Yes, he was pussywhipped; there was no point in pretending that wasn’t part of it. But it wasn’t just the promise of more sex, or the threat of its removal, that motivated him. Just talking to Donna, even when they were fully clothed, delighted him. He loved the quirky mobility of her mouth, her funny yet seductive eyes. The modulation of her voice. The gentle way she touched his cheek, almost chastely at times.
He’d break in, and steal the painting, and
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