Road Games Read online

  The music became wilder, the woman breathed harder as the cushion’s external seam plied rigid against her clit. She gasped and shrieked softly with each bounce, head shaking tempestuously as she danced to the urgency in her loins. Leti remained still and imagined the body humping behind was moving steely thighs knowledgably into the back of hers.

  Sweat sheened on her scalp and her body strained from holding on till the woman came victoriously, gliding up her back on a long glissando and griping her shoulders hotly. Her thanks—a kiss and a squeeze of her biceps. Leti did not turn around to face the anonymous woman. The vertical wave of her body was the only memory they would share. That, and the heat between their legs.

  Dirk kept her eyes on Leti’s stony expression throughout the performance. It was this contrary manner, after her tender-shaped behind in the fit of low-slung jeans, that made her watch. Leti was prime meat in a place like this and Dirk knew she would come to her when she had made her point.

  Tense with a restless pressure, Leti could feel the interest racing through the crowd after the little show. She needed to start something soon. She slugged back a shot of absinthe, soaking her tongue in the distilled magic of wild aniseed and herbal alchemy. Then, from her pocket, she extracted a white capsule, brought it under her nose, and snapped it. The popper’s acrid hit sped up her brain to banish the numbness and latch onto her heartbeat drumming to the pervasive weight of the music. It was time.

  She was on the dance floor in three strides. Head bouncing to the call, arms stretched upward for the riffs and punching to the synthetic pulse, her muscular body rocked to a stimulating mix of arousal and adrenaline. The ridged material of her ribbed top flitted over her puckered nipples, bringing them out. Ghostly bodies moved in through the rolling fog of dry ice to rub against her; in front, behind, touching her wantonly. Leti lifted her face toward the lights and spun, searched for a familiar face above and level.

  Dirk was pleased, and starting to twitch, from following Leti’s dance moves. The abandonment with which she threw her body into the music, the flexible way she begged and teased with her trim hips, her arms supplicating for a top—to Dirk, Leti was wanting tonight.

  Leti found Dirk watching the floor, watching her. She locked onto her location and headed toward where she was leaning against one of the pillars hedging the floor. Yanking up the front of her singlet, she slid her hand under it and thrummed her abs slowly, continuously, as she walked over to her. Legs apart, fingers wedged into the top of her jeans until they threatened her fly, Leti cocked her groin toward her target. The returned lusty look tested her whole demeanor. When it dragged up from her crotch, she simply said, “Wanna get out of here?”

  Steady eyes assessed her for a minute but Leti held her ground—barely. The pop of speed had impelled her arousal until she was almost crying out from it. She was hot and full and ready. Too many hands had touched but not enough with intent. She needed to fuck now, and she wanted it from this person.

  Dirk smiled knowingly. Leti’s impatient fingertips and the hunger in her eyes gave her away. Curtly, she said, “My way, my rules.”

  To which Leti moved in, close enough to share heady midnight breath. “I want to suck your dick. I’ll do anything you want.”

  Dirk snaked an arm around Leti’s waist and dug her fingers into the arse that had tempted her all night, promising, “If you’re good, I just might let you.”

  *

  “Where are we going?” Leti yelled above the roar of the wind rushing over the cabriolet’s front shield. The topless coupe was flying over the limit but all the controls were in the hands of the driver.

  The edge of a tattoo peeked above Dirk’s forearms where her sleeves were pushed up. Arms locked on the sports wheel and soft hair rising in the drag, she said, “I thought we could take a drive. Go somewhere nice.”

  “Fuck nice. I wanna blow you, man. C’mon.” Leti reached over and squeezed the material covering Dirk’s crotch. Her thumb pressed into the top of the fleshy slit underneath. “Don’t you want it?” She wiggled her thumb deeper between Dirk’s thighs and dragged it up roughly between the lips of her pussy, scraping the tip of her clit on the way.

  Dirk’s hips nearly flew off the bucket seat. Her legs opened instinctively but she quickly grabbed Leti’s hand and clamped it to rest on her thigh. “I’m not letting you do it till you come down from that high.”

  “I’ll come down when I go down on you.” Turning her whole body on the seat, Leti used both hands to undo Dirk’s pants, reckless of the control Dirk was trying to maintain.

  “All right, okay. Oh, Jesus!” Leti’s fingers had found their way into her briefs and she was rolling her knuckles around Dirk’s pussy, bumping and massaging the underside of her clit and her sensitive peehole. Leti’s hand was a compact vibrator with flexible phalanges and knobs playing all over her cunt, slipping below impudently and drilling through the soft slopes of her vulva.

  Thighs spreading apart, Dirk hurriedly signaled and turned off the road into an industrial estate. The area was poorly lit by lonesome streetlamps and security floodlights that only faced the hulking buildings. She found the first empty car park and screeched to a halt under the shadows of a tree. Deserted and occupied only by the night, they were invisible once the engine was turned off.

  Dirk hastily unclipped the safety belt and pushed her seat backward, her pants lowering in the same move. Her eyes were already closed to everything but the grinding between her legs. “Yesss.” She placed one hand on Leti’s surging upper back where bunched muscles flushed with heat. Her nails scratched across the ribbed top in uneven catches as her hips counter-rolled into Leti’s half-open fist.

  Leti’s fingers changed shape and direction, flicking and strumming in upward strokes from the base of Dirk’s clit to launch off the tip. Dirk groaned louder, her hips now hiking forward in the direction of her clit. Leti heeded the escalating grunts and moved her hand faster. She held Dirk open while her thumb whapped unerringly on the rising clit head. Dirk’s legs instinctively rowed wide. Nerves singing to overload, tremors jumping to her toes and tits, she came with a hollow shout and snapping hips. Leti washed her fingertips in warm come squeezed out by the deep drawing shocks still gripping the depths of Dirk’s pussy, before withdrawing her hand.

  Dirk grabbed Leti by the neck as she rose, pulled her face close, and drove her tongue into her mouth. Leti met her hungrily. They battled with rough kisses, locked open mouth to open mouth, used teeth that bit and tongues to wrestle. Dirk slowly squeezed Leti’s neck in the vulnerable spots, the pain a warning that she could easily snap it. Leti tried to move back.

  “Next time, not when I’m driving,” she hissed. She kept Leti arched in position until she felt her nod, then she released her hold and pushed her in the shoulder. Leti fell back into her seat. It was too dark to see her face but Dirk wasn’t interested in what she might be thinking at the moment. She opened a storage compartment and took out a firm friend.

  “Here, put this on.” She tossed a small bulk into Leti’s lap.

  Leti encased the familiar shape in her palm. It was thick and short. “Where’s the strap?” she asked.

  “You won’t need it this time,” Dirk said, pulling on her pants. “I want you to stick it in your jeans and place it where it feels good. Leave the other buttonholes undone.”

  Leti ripped her fly open and tried to jam it between two button spaces but had to use three—it was a fat cock. She moved it around until the inner ridge lay above her sweet spot. When she jacked down, it would pound or press on her clit depending on how she played it.

  She was doing just that, fisting and pumping the cock, feeling it move in her jeans, when Dirk’s mouth took over. She relinquished her hold on the dick and leaned back. She laced her hand through Dirk’s fine hair and imagined how the cock would look swinging, then hammering, into Dirk’s wide mouth.

  The primal smell of sweat and open sex leached out from their bodies. Sounds of pleasure guided seeing h
ands, and the air was replete, heavy, with the taste of secretions. Leti held on to the headrest and let her pelvis ride the blowjob. Her granite quads and strong back fucked along, not allowing Dirk any rest, not when she had been ready all night.

  Dirk wasn’t about to lose control of the scene. She had Leti’s dick in her mouth but she was still the one directing. Boring two fingers past the bottom of Leti’s open fly, she ran them up the side of Leti’s clitoral shaft, curled them into hooks, and pinched her clit between them, soft then hard, up and down, alternating the squeezes with jacking her clit.

  The hand in her hair started roving. Dirk used the curve of her hooked fingers to draw out the length of Leti’s clit, then slammed the cock down on its unprotected head. Leti’s thighs trembled and grew rigid. Dirk repeated the concentrated movements faster, turning the boi helpless under her mouth.

  “Yeah yeah yeah,” Leti urged, hips churning and punching like a jackhammer. They rose and lowered to the stiff member rubbing itself urgently between Dirk’s clamped fingers.

  If the dildo was longer, Dirk might have choked from the ferocity and speed of Leti’s bucking hips, but instead, her fingers worked on pulling the crest of Leti’s clit through the waves of a mighty orgasm, if Leti’s hoarse refrain was any indication. Come-soaked jeans and a damp leather seat was proof enough for her.

  Dirk yanked the cock out of Leti’s jeans, turned it around, and sucked on the under-ridge. The whole phallus had taken on Leti’s welcoming scent. She couldn’t wait. She unzipped her pants hurriedly and thrust a hand under her briefs, seeking the slippery aching point in her pussy. Dirk looked at Leti—her legs would still be splayed, fly open, and her body wasted for the moment. She rubbed spaded fingers hard and furious over her clit, thrashing it like she would a bratty boi, and shuddered quickly to an orgasm.

  “I could have helped you with that,” Leti offered, slow and contented, from the other side.

  “You will.” Dirk started the car, still catching her breath. “At my place. Now, be a good boi and keep your hands busy with that cock. I’m going to want a taste of your sweet ass when we get home.”

  Bottoms Up

  Georgia Beers

  I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? This is ridiculous. It’s Kara, for God’s sake. Kara, who loves me. Kara, who has pledged to spend the rest of her life with me. I have nothing to be nervous about. Nothing. Right?

  That’s what I’ve been telling myself the entire three days she’s been on the road, off on one of her business trips again. But the other thing I’ve been doing while she’s been gone is thinking about our conversation a week or two ago…the one that finally gave me the solution to the problem of why we adore each other more than life itself—still, after ten years—but don’t have very much sex.

  We were in bed, me on my laptop and Kara next to me reading a book. I was racking my brains, thinking, So what the hell is it? Why do we go weeks, sometimes months, without having sex? We’ve got built-in babes here! We’re in a committed relationship, we’re both attractive women who are attracted to each other, and we’re both right there for the taking. It’s the benefit of marriage, isn’t it? Yes, we have full-time jobs and we do come home tired on occasion, but we have no children, so that’s really not a great excuse. What the hell is it? Why aren’t we ripping each other’s clothes off a couple times a week? I don’t understand.

  I was reading some erotica online and I tried to focus on that when I suddenly came across something so simple, so logical, something that made so much sense that I almost couldn’t believe it. I read again, rolling it around in my head and wondering how I’d missed it before. I looked over at Kara, who was engrossed in her lesbian romance novel, and just blinked at her. She finally felt my stare and looked at me through her reading glasses (which make her look damn sexy).

  “What?” she asked.

  “We’re both bottoms.” That’s it. That’s all I said.

  She held my gaze with her arresting green eyes and we stared at one another, absorbing this new information for several long minutes.

  “My God,” she said at last. “You’re right. We totally are.”

  “We totally are.”

  We laughed about it. We both felt relieved that we’d finally found the answer to the question that had been plaguing us for the better part of a year or two. We hugged. We cuddled.

  Then we went to sleep.

  We’re so damned predictable.

  *

  I take a deep breath now and blow it out as I pace in our kitchen, mentally picturing her rejecting me. Or worse, laughing at me and my feeble attempts to take control. I’ve got all my introductory moves planned out in my head, but I have no idea if I can pull them off. I’m new to this game. My hands are shaking and I’m starting to sweat, which sends me into a mini-panic. I don’t want to sweat! I need to smell good, not like I just went for a run.

  “Christ,” I mutter, pressing my fingertips into my eyes. “Okay. Come on. Pull it together.” I wander into the living room and inspect my reflection in the decorative mirror for the tenth time in as many minutes. Not too shabby. My hair is neat, loose and wavy the way Kara likes it. I’ve touched up my mascara and dabbed on a little bit of the perfume she bought me for my birthday. I’m dressed simply in jeans (Kara’s favorite pair) and the clingy white T-shirt that she says I don’t wear often enough because I’m self-conscious about how it glorifies my breasts. Glancing in the mirror now, I have to admit that I like the look.

  My head snaps to the side as I hear a car pull into our attached garage, and I head for the kitchen. I actually whimper aloud with the worry that suddenly floods my system hotly. My heart is pounding and I can’t believe how difficult this is already. Is this how all tops feel? I think I’m probably being silly, but I can’t seem to help it.

  She walks in through the side door and I am momentarily stunned by her beauty, as I always am when I see her after days apart. Her dark, sleek hair is straight and shining, reaching just to her shoulders and tucked behind each ear. She’s wearing the black pantsuit I helped her pick out a couple months ago. It makes her look powerful and sexy at the same time. The pants are tailored nicely to fit her compact body, the fabric snuggling firmly against her ass. The jacket hangs unbuttoned and open, as it usually ends up when the day is finished, and the red silk blouse underneath it is suddenly begging for my fingertips. It’s revealing a dangerous amount of cleavage, something I’ve mock-scolded her about in the past, and a single diamond glitters at her throat, dangling from a silver chain around her neck. It was an anniversary present from me and she wears it every day.

  I swallow hard because she is so fucking gorgeous, I’m not sure what to do with myself.

  “Ugh.” She tosses her keys on the counter with a clatter as she sets her leather briefcase on the floor. “What a day.” She kicks off the black leather heels and settles down to her real height, about two and a half inches shorter than she just was, and much shorter than I am. My Kara is a petite little thing, that’s for sure. She looks up at my face.

  “Hi,” I croak. The startling green of her eyes always makes me feel like she’s suddenly shined a spotlight on me.

  Her gaze scans over me and I can almost feel it. “You look great.” She kisses me quickly on the mouth, then turns her back to me and opens the refrigerator to peer inside. “What do you feel like for dinner?”

  Now or never, now or never, now or never.

  It’s my mental mantra and I know if I don’t obey it, I’ll chicken out completely. I will my feet to move and am shocked when they actually obey me, getting me across the linoleum floor in four steps. I press up against Kara’s back and wrap my arms around her middle.

  “You,” I answer close to her ear, my voice husky.

  Her shoulders shake as she chuckles. “No, really.”

  I balk slightly and realize this is my out. It would be incredibly easy to give up right now, laugh along with her, and make dinner. But I’m annoyed that I balked at all and so I stee
l myself to try again. I press my lips against the pulse point at the side of her neck and suck on it, lightly at first. She shrugs her shoulder up with a girlish giggle, but when I increase the pressure and use my tongue, I hear her swallow.

  “What are you doing?” she asks softly.

  “Taking what I want.” God, what a great line! I’m so butch!

  Kara laughs again and turns in my arms, the refrigerator door closing with a slap behind her. “Honey. Seriously. What’s going on?”

  I poke at the inside of my cheek with my tongue. Jesus, is it always this difficult? No wonder I’m not a top; it’s too much damn work. Again I think how it would be the easiest thing in the world to drop my arms to my sides, chuckle about what a funny joke that was, and go on with our very loving yet sexually not-so-satisfying life.

  “I want you,” I say matter-of-factly, knowing I don’t sound quite as confident as I did a second ago. Before Kara can knock me down another notch, I cover her mouth with mine. She’s surprised; I can tell by the muffled gasp that escapes her as I press her against the refrigerator. I don’t let up. I don’t want her to speak right now. My self-assurance is hanging on by a thread. One more hesitation and I’m done; I can feel it. I run the tip of my tongue around her lips, requesting access, which she grants me, much to my surprise.

  I sink into her, reveling in the softness and warmth of her mouth as I kiss her. My hands slip under her jacket and her blouse is like velvet beneath my fingers. The heat from her body radiates through the fabric, and it almost makes me swoon. I catch myself, though. I’m supposed to be in charge here, but I realize with slight horror that I didn’t think I’d even get this far, that my plan doesn’t go beyond this point because I had such little faith in myself. Surprisingly, I hadn’t hesitated. Well, okay, I had a little, but I got myself back on track. I was stronger than I’d expected. Which is a good thing, but still…what the hell do I do now?