Read Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016 Online
Authors: Miriam F. Martin
Tags: #romance, #suspense, #comedy, #pulp, #humor, #spies, #menage, #urban, #wedding, #work place
I slammed the door shut and pushed
him against the wall, surprising him and taking his breath away. I
ripped my jacket off, and he pulled my ponytail. After a minute of
making out, I undid his belt and pants and was on my knees. Gary
was well blessed, an inch bigger than my ex, with a nice thick
arch. I swallowed him entirely, hungry for what I denied myself for
too long.
Right at the edge, I looked up at
him, feigning innocence with quick eye blinks. Gary pulled me from
my knees by the hair, shoving me roughly on the table. He pulled my
shorts and panties to my ankles, and held my legs high over my
head. Helpless, I waited for him to enter.
He did, one inch at a
time.
All the way in, he pumped my pussy
for all I was worth, until I was creamy and gushing all over his
cock. He came inside me soon after, his hot seed filling
me.
We had sex near constantly the
whole weekend. I don’t know how I did it, but I got A’s on all my
papers. After college, instead of going to grad school like I
planned, I took an internship in the same city Gary
lived.
A summer of fucking him was worth
being turned away from my dreams.
The Uke Club
I belong to a ukulele club that
meets every Tuesday night to jam at a local coffee shop. There’s
maybe fifteen of us regulars, and we’ve been doing this for over a
year. Most of us play soprano, some like me also have baritones,
and a couple oddballs will bring in alto or tenor ukes now and
then. Julia is the only one to play alto every week.
We always sit next to each other on
the shaggy green couch, with our soprano ukes in the cases at our
feet. For an hour or two every week, I get to rub elbows with the
most beautiful brunette uke player in town.
I often wondered what it’d like to
rub other parts of her body. One night, I got to find
out.
Julia had been particularly flirty
the entire session. Slapping me on the thigh when I said something
off-beat, which is often. She traded jokes with me, sat a little
closer than normal, and stared at me a lot.
Truth was, we’d been flirting for a
long time, but I never thought she was single.
“
I broke up with my boyfriend,”
she told me as we packed up our ukes.
“
Oh?” I said, not entirely sure
how to proceed with this.
“
We didn’t even get rough makeup
sex afterwards,” she continued. “I was disappointed.”
“
Ouch. Maybe I can help you with
that?”
“
I’d like that.”
“
Your place or mine?” I was half
joking, ready to back up if she was just teasing me.
Julia gave me her address and phone
number. I drove as slow as I could, giving her as much time as
possible to freshen up. But I didn’t want her to worry that I had
cold feet.
“
I was afraid you had cold feet,”
she said after I entered her apartment. Her studio was a ukulele
mecca. One whole wall was filled with ukes of all shapes and sizes.
Another wall had photographs of her playing gigs at various places.
A third wall was entirely blank except for the nails sticking out
of the drywall.
“
That used to have photos of my
ex,” Julia pointed to the blank wall.
I nodded, said appropriate things,
drank tasty black coffee with her on her couch. Truth, I don’t
remember exactly what happened. All of it was just a lovely,
euphoric blur. I knew right then that Julia was the woman of my
dreams. And she was all mine.
I pulled her close in my arms, and
kissed her. To my pleasure, she kissed me back. One thing led to
another. I grabbed her breast. She ran her fingers through my hair.
I massaged the small of her back. She unzipped my pants.
It was as if somebody turned up the
thermostat to a hundred degrees. Our warm bodies tangled together,
meshing as if we were one. I slipped a finger up her skirt, and
plucked her clitoris like a ukulele string. Eyes closed tight, she
humped my finger, moaning softly in my ear.
Fully hard and aroused beyond
control, I pushed her off me. Julia stammered, uncertainty in her
eyes. Uncertainty was replaced with ecstasy when I turned her
around and bent her over the couch’s arm.
I rammed my cock inside her,
pumping her gentle at first. Only when Julia begged for more did I
pick up speed, my balls slapping against her. Not jackhammer fast
yet, but I found a nice andante rhythm that kept her moaning and
whimpering. Julia pushed her backside against me, grinding and
rotating around my cock. I spanked her on both cheeks and grabbed
her hips, forcing her to be still.
And then her whole body shook and
quivered as if she had convulsions. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and
I gave her my everything. A fast, allegro pumping.
Julia screamed out loud. It was as
if somebody poured hot water on my balls as she came, the sensation
driving me insane. Her juice dripped on the carpet in fat, noisy
drops, making a big puddle.
I pulled out, my cock dripping wet
from her come. And then I blew my load all over her
back.
I let her rest facedown on the
couch while I went to the bathroom to find towels. I cleaned her
back gently. Julia kissed me, thanking me over and over.
“
It’s not midnight yet,” I
said.
She only smiled, and led me to the
bedroom.
Months later, we still jam with the
uke club, and my photos take up the once blank wall.
Gone Fishing
On Saturday, at four in the
morning, I put on my blue swim trunks to go fishing. I don’t mean
the fun kind of fishing that involves hooks and sinkers. There was
a rather expensive flat-screen TV in the deep end of the swimming
pool. Just part of the job of operating a hotel.
The minty toothpaste taste was
still fresh in my mouth and mixed with black coffee. I barely felt
awake yet, maybe because I’d been up all night auditing. But I
wasn’t the only one at the pool.
A buxom black haired lady in a tiny
green bikini sat in one of the white lounge chairs, soaking up the
predawn night air. I had checked her in last night. She’d arrived
dressed in casual clothes that left much to the imagination. She’d
been flirty with me during check-in. I blinked twice to make sure
it was the same lady.
“
You called about the TV?” I
said.
“
Yeah,” she said. Her name was
almost certainly Rachel. I’m pretty good at remember guests’ names.
“It’s down there.”
Rachel pointed a skinny hand to the
pool. Sure enough, it was down there. I hopped in and dove to the
bottom, entirely unsure how I was lifting this thing out. I
couldn’t quite do it, and needed air.
When I rose to the surface, Rachel
was standing on the edge, and I got a good view of the bottom half
of her bikini. “Need help?” she said.
“
Sure,” I said.
She dived in, and I met her at the
bottom. Between the two of us, we got the TV to surface.
“
I’d like to pay for the TV,”
Rachel said.
“
Why?” I said. “Did you throw it
in?”
“
How dare you accuse me of such an
immature act?” she said, grinning like a child with a naughty
secret. “Of course I threw it in.”
“
But… I’m confused.” Behind my
back, I crossed my fingers, hoping this ruse was a weird, though
original, way of getting me into her room. Seriously, she could’ve
just called for towels or something.
“
Come back to my room,” said
Rachel, winking. “I’ll write the check. So we don’t have to take
care of it at check-out.”
I followed her. Either she was an
axe murderer, or she wanted sexual favors. Or she was tweaked in
the head. Or a combination of all three. I was soaking wet, wearing
nothing but swim trunks and a goofy smile. What did I
care?
Sure enough, the TV was missing
from the room. As soon as the door slammed shut, I wondered what I
was doing. I had never had sex with a guest. I’d fantasized about
it, but I took my work seriously and wanted to maintain the good
reputation my hotel had.
But Rachel cornered me with her
arms around my neck, and my stomach twisted in anticipation. She
was beautiful, and eager. And it’d been far too long.
I put my hands on her waist, and
pulled her close. She smelled of suntan oil, and tasted like
roasted coffee. The kiss lasted for just short of eternity, and
then I pushed her away.
She had the look of animal lust in
her eyes. My cock throbbed, fully erect and ready for play. I
could’ve left, just told her no, maybe forget this ever
happened.
My mistake was to kiss her
again.
Somehow we ended on the bed, which
was turned down already. Rachel got on top of me, and stripped my
trunks off. Straddling my torso, she slipped off her top, and then
wiggled out of the bottom.
Rachel grabbed my dick in a
white-knuckle fist and pushed me into her. Her pussy walls were
soaked, and not from the pool water. I grabbed both of her breasts
as she rocked back and forth. Twisting her nipples with my fingers,
I talked dirty to her.
“
You like how I talk dirty?” I
said.
“
I like it better,” Rachel said,
“when you shut up and fuck me.”
I flipped her onto her back and
sank my rod into her twat. Right when I thought I was about to blow
my load, I pulled out. Then I sucked on her nipples, driving her
even more crazy with lust.
At four-thirty, I couldn’t take
anymore and I needed to go back to work. So I straddled her torso
and jacked off fast and hard until I splooged all over her pretty
tits. Rachel licked up the remainder of my come off my
cock.
I leaned down to her ear, and said
the stupidest thing I could’ve thought of at the moment. “Rachel, I
think I love you.”
“
What?” She pushed me
away.
“
I… I love you, baby.”
“
Get out! Now!” Rachel pushed me
off of her, clawing and scratching me.
“
But, what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good
for you?”
“
My name isn’t Rachel, dude! Get
out!” She was screaming. She pushed me out the door butt naked,
with my swim trunks in hand.
And that was the last time I ever
saw Rachel—or whatever her name was—at my hotel.
The Door to Door
Pitch
Tom is a really good friend, who’s
been with me through a lot of businesses. He’s good friends with my
husband Ryan, plays lead guitar really well, and damn fine looking
to boot. I’ve joked half-seriously with the hubby that I should
invite Tom over for a threesome. Ryan isn’t quite on board with
that yet, but has given me permission to play.
So when Ryan was out of town on
business, I invited Tom over to listen to my latest business
venture pitch: door to door encyclopedia sales.
He sat on my living room sofa with
a cup of joe, and scratched his full head of curly black hair, and
nodded.
“
You don’t think I can do it?” I
said.
“
Well,” said Tom. “Does anybody
buy encyclopedias anymore? From door to door
salesladies?”
“
From this one they
will!”
“
Okay. Let’s
hear the pitch.” He was all serious now, a cute expression he does
when listening. Sort of a
whatever
look, but with full eye
contact.
I wore a blue pinstripe pencil
skirt suit, with a pink blouse, which I had buttoned to the neck. I
completed the ensemble with a cute paisley scarf. I was dressed to
the nines, compared to Tom’s simple t-shirt and jeans.
I gave the pitch about the great
need for more information available in the home for the whole
family, and the fantastic value of owning leather bound
encyclopedias.
Tom sipped his coffee, listening
patiently, nodding at appropriate times. After my pitch, he set the
cup down. “Lose the scarf,” he said.
I untied the scarf and tossed it
playfully at Tom. He smirked with the corner of his mouth, and
sniffed the scarf before setting it aside.
“
That all?” I said, hand on my
hip.
“
Just a suggestion. Maybe unbutton
the blouse. You know, one or two buttons.”
“
Eat bacon much? That’s a rather
piggish thing to say.”
“
Just try it,” Tom said, winking.
“You have beautiful breasts. They might help you sell more
encyclopedias.”
“
Oh?” I undid the first button.
Slow. Feeling confident, I went one more.
And then another.
Tom stood up straighter,
blushing.
“
You think my breasts are
beautiful?” I grabbed them, pushing the girls up for him to get a
better view. “How much do you think I’ll sell if I go one
more?”
He shifted in his seat, the bulge
in his pants painfully obvious. “Try it and see.”
I undid the next button, giving Tom
a peek at the lacy bow in the middle of my push-up bra. He rubbed
his thighs, trying to look away but failing miserably. I walked
right up to him, boobs in his face, hands on his
shoulders.