As mentioned in my last post, Uniform Behaviour is newly out, and we're all doing our best to promote it, so we can make piles of money for Help for Heroes! (and well maybe a little for us hard-working writer and editor types, too!) In an effort to entice you to do just that, I've posted a little tease from my story in the anothology, The Weight of Duty. Enjoy!
Once we managed to find it, McNally's turned out to be a really nice place. It was only half full, which I had been led to believe would be impossible to find during Tattoo week, and they had a surf and turf on special for only fifteen bucks, which included an enormous whole lobster and quite possibly the most delicious steak I had ever tasted. We each got one, and a local beer called Keith's Pale Ale which turned out to be really good, too.
Lisa was really good company. In between her smart-assed comments—which, to be honest, were starting to give me one hell of a hard-on—she told me a little bit about what it was like to play in a pipe band, and how to pretend to be listening to someone when you've get heavy-duty earplugs in to preserve your sanity. In exchange, I told her a little bit about being on the gun running team, and explained that “Gunner” wasn't actually some amazing title you got for sniping enemies, but was really just the equivalent of a private in the artillery. To her credit, if she was disappointed to hear it, it didn't show.
She let me pay, which was a nice surprise, and once we made it out of the restaurant, she used the front of my shirt to pull herself up on her toes and me down low enough for her to suck me into a mind-blowing hold-nothing back devour every inch of me kiss that left me dizzy. She tasted like steak and beer, which was really fucking hot, and she smelled like lobster, which was, well...not. So did I, for that matter, and I suggested going back to my bunk to clean the fishy-smell off us. Thompson would be out getting shit-faced, as was his daily ritual, and wouldn't be back until at least 2 am, I promised.
I won rock, paper, scissors and got the first shower. The cheap motel bathroom was kind of dingy, but the water was hot and clean and fresh and felt amazing pelting my naked skin. I knew enough to bring my own body wash with me instead of hoping that the dives the put us up in provide tiny little bars of crap soap, and the rich lather on my cock and balls was almost one stimulation too many after an evening out with Lisa.
I was still debating whether a quick jerk-off was a wise move considering how close I was to coming already when she decided to join me. Clothed, Lisa was pretty fucking hot. Naked, she was like a miniature goddess or something. Every inch of her skin was the same creamy peach, there wasn't a tan line in sight. Hard pink little nipples pointed straight up from tits that were just the right size to fit in a hand each with nothing left over, which I didn't waste a minute doing, getting her as lathered and wet as I was. She didn't shave her pubes, which was a relief to me since I always felt like a creepy old dude whenever I fucked someone who was clean-shaven down there. They were blond, which explained the blue eyes, and she purred like a kitten when I soaped them up.
She pulled in close to me under the pelting water, and took my cock in her one hand, grinning up at me when she produced an unwrapped condom in the other. I leaned down to kiss her, then, guiding her arms up around my neck so I could roll it on. As nice as her hand had felt, I needed more than that right then, and I reached around to cup her ass in my hands—oh my fuck she had the most perfectly grabbable ass there ever was—and lifted her onto my cock. We kissed again, and she wrapped her legs around my waist and writhed against me like crazy but at these angles, this was just a tease. Don't get me wrong—having her moulded to me like that felt really fucking good, but there was no changing the fact that the lower half of my cock was pinned between our bodies instead of buried in hers, which is what we were both starving for.