Don't Think, Stop Thinking

You pull back and look at me with a demonic grin that makes me feel a jolt of momentary terror, though I don't show it. Its a weird twisted hedonistic madness meets Native American Wendigo sort of shit in that smile and in your eyes. I am tempted to splash you with holy water. Its then you act.

"WAAAHHH!" comes the gasp from your lungs as you let your weight, the bluntness of my cock, and the wetness of that pink warm hole do what they were supposed to without that damnable conscience of yours getting in the fucking way.

I feel my cock-shaft slathered all around in the warm grip of your cunt. You empty your gasp into my face and accommodate me. The corners of your mouth turn up and the next gasp is a happy giggling one as you begin your bouncing dance upon my dong, sending the cock head in straight up to the balls with each wet smacking stroke. Ass cheeks smack balls and balls smack back; adding to the muffled meaty smack smack smack of two bodies delighting in the collision and friction of it all. Isn't Newtonian physics just the best!

You arch your spine, bending yourself back and just let the sensations take over. You're all happy humping giggles now, yet you need something more. My head is pulled from the pillow up to your teats and you push a swollen gumdrop nipple to my lips, urging me to suck and chew as your hand finds your other titty and gives it a nice tugging twwwwissst.

I'm all chews and nips; a puppy on your teat with a new toy and to celebrate... I'm driving my cock happily up into your cunt; over and over again as if I want to send it straight into your chest cavity from below. You love this, the poke and slam of the cock and the painful pull on your nipples as if they were taffy. You love the desperate urgency of it all, the bestial need ... to breed! Air, food, water, and FUCK, its what all animals need and its what you NEED!

Your mouth is a hissing vicious sneer as you wrinkle your nose and whine. You pull your tit from my teeth, only to shove the other one in my kisser for more of the same; rubbing the now free but somewhat beestung nipple with soothing flourishes to ease the lovely burning pain. Down below your ass slams down on me with SMACK SMACK SMACK and I respond with deep hard thrusts. Your face begins to twist as those sensations... those lovely nasty wretchedly wonderful sensations take hold of you and ...

"EEEEYYYAGGHH," you shriek" THAT'S IT! Oh shit, yeah!"

Your eyes are now wild, like a candidate for a rubber room. A little trickle of sweat dribbles from your brow. You are sooooo in your zone now! As my cock and balls slam slam slam upwards and try to mate with your kidneys you hiss like a wheezy asthmatic steam engine,

"Oh YESSSSS! Ugggh ... oh shit, why can't I get this fucking shit every time I need it?... Its so fucking right... so... fucking... right. Yesssss fffffuuuck meeeeeee!"

I continue to munch and twist that pink nipple gumdrop in my teeth like I'm trying to get to its chewy caramel center. My hand comes up for a better grip on that hair of yours. I snag it with my fingers and pull, not too hard but enough that the jolt surges down to your teats and clit; making hips drive appreciatively. Your sneer becomes a snarl and through clenched teeth you rage at me and the world,

"EEEYYARRGHH, OH FUCK YEAH, PULL MY HAIR YOU FUCKING FUCK! PULL MY FUCKING HAIR AND FUCK ME HARD!"

I look up from chewing your tit and see the beautiful crazed she-beast in all her glory. She's in heat now and nothing is going to stop this THING building inside the two of us! I can tell by the frantic thrash of your hips and the tortured twisted look of pleasure on your face you are close, only a few more strokes maybe.

Strokes? Strokes? STROKES! Oh shit why the fuck didn't I think of that?

My other hand reaches around and dives to the cleft of your ass. My finger, the middle one; finds your ass pucker and begins.... to... swirl. Your eyes roll up into the back of your head again. You feel the tickle against the rude pink ring of your anus and your mouth falls open. Between the tugging chew on your teats, the slam of my cock, the grind on your clit and now this; its as if I just connected the circuit for...

"EEEEEAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHH OOOhhhh HAAAAAHHH YESSSS!" you wail in happy agony.

There is a shake of your body; a tremor that wracks you and as it does, that finger of mine slides in and circles your most private spot from the inside as my cock slams and slams and slams. That did it. That soooo did it.

"OHHHH MY AAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!" is all you can manage as your whole world seems to explode. Its as if the entire cosmos sneezed for you in a cataclysmic KA-CHOO of the most wonderful kind!

I feel the rush of warmth as you leak lady-dew down my shaft and balls, which respond with a happily involuntary sneeze of their own. I growl like I'm being choked to death and then it happens for me.

Ohhhh shit it happens and it's so good! So very fucking good! Jet after jet of ropey cum shoots up inside you as I roar with joy!

We collapse in a big happy gasping heap of sweat, cum, and cuddles. There is peace. There is contentment.

A few minutes later and we're up against the headboard, pillows propped at our backs and looking down as the glow from our phone screens bath our faces. It's ironic; forty years before if we'd shared an illicit moment in a motel banging genitals and nobody else in the town was supposed to know; the only glow you'd have seen in the aftermath would have come from two cigarettes. People used to smoke after intercourse; now they text and 'like' the comments of others. I for one hope that motels never decide to place signs in rooms, thanking people for not fucking.

You look my way. I can feel your eyes on me but I don't look up from my screen. This is the part of the after-fuck I cannot always negotiate well. You aren't mine, you are somebody else's but you want to say something that is cleansing for both of us and excuses what we just did. My position is to simply not make an excuse, (anymore than I would excuse myself from eating a ham on rye if I'm hungry). You start to say,

"I think that you really understand me better than..."

"Don't think, stop thinking... I already told you that. You were horny... so was I, and I was in town. Nobody knows."

"I like you," you tell me.

"I know. Don't."

"I didn't say the other thing, I said 'like' asshole, and by the way," you tell me as you drop your phone and knock mine from my hand onto the bed before kissing me, "I don't do everything a man tells me to. That's why I am here in this shit motel in the first fucking place."

It's a real kiss. A mind blower of a kiss. We were going to get up and get dressed... that doesn't happen and at some level, its not a surprise to either of us.

Two shapes become one shape in the dimly lit motel room again and go for another round. This time it's not all snarls and bites. Its tugging and pulling and kisses and flourishes and yes; that cock gets pushed inside. Its humps and gasps but with more vulnerability and understanding than either knew we had. It's not "L" -making because we are not going to use that word. When we both cum this time, its more about shared intimacy than merely the sweaty friction of the act, but this time there are smiles. Definitely smiles.

I feel up beat. It's not my usual serious bullshit in my face. You've got a happy glow that didn't come from your phone. I opt to speak and I hope it is not a mistake,

"Fair enough, I like you too. I get you as well, for what it's worth; just don't let it spin into anything other than this. You have too much to lose,"

"Don't worry, I know that. I'm not stupid, and you have too much competition anyhow," you reply as you lie on your side, (like a Manet nude as you slap your hip for lovely fleshy emphasis), "oh and yeah, I get you too."

You lean over me and give me another kiss. You are full of kisses. I wonder if I've fucked some softness into that tomboy. Then there's a buzz. Its your phone.

You look at your screen. Your eyes go wide in a surprised micro-expression. You didn't count on what you see there. I see you mouth the word, "AW FUCK..."

I wasn't a math major but I can tell what it adds up to. I know that look. I'll let you off easy with,

"Its her, isn't it?"

"Yep," you reply. Your face has the look like you want to say the I'm sorry thing.

"How soon does she want to see you?"

"An hour, maybe two if I cook up a sto..."

"Don't think, stop thinking," I interrupt, "go to her."

I then feel its high time for me to point out the painfully obvious. Its none of my business but I can't help it.

"You realize, someday this double-life is going to catch up with you? Between him, ... her, and,"

"I'll stop thinking if you stop judging," you reply.

As replies go, it was a good one. I deserved it.

"Fair enough," I agree.

You collapse over me. Your head ends up across my chest. We should be getting dressed; well you should anyhow. I have this bed to myself tonight by the looks of it.

"So," you say without looking at me, "when are we going to see ea..."

"Give me your phone," I interrupt quietly. We do a lot of interrupting in our convos, just saying.

"You see this," I say pointing to her screen, "set the timer for 3:15 each afternoon. When it goes off you can worry about when we are going to see each other again for a whole minute. After that, you get back to your thoughts of work, and her, and everybody else. We'll see each other again sometime but don't let it consume you or 'like' is gonna be 'something else' before you know it."

You nod. It's the most logical thing to do in an illogical setup. You dress and you start to leave. Before you go, you snatch my shirt from the TV and flick the set on.

"You've got shirts," you tell me, huffing in the funk from it, "and I am taking a souvenir."

"Sounds fair," I nod. I don't show any emotion, its uncomfortable again saying good bye and I hate uncomfortable shit. You step across the room and kiss me and then you spin around and leave. The door shuts behind you and I hear your car startup next to my piece of shit rental outside, as I lie naked in the flicker of that stupid television.

#

A few days later, you're out in the fields sitting in your truck on another shift. You've got word your story has a publisher. You've been told it's a strong work and that this may very well lead to something huge.

Up until now it's been rejection notice after rejection notice. You've considered giving it up and never leaving the safety of this truck, and the job... and her... and him. The only thing (up until two days ago with the good news), that kept you thinking other thoughts of an alternative life was your ritual each day at 3:15.

Speaking of which, its 3:14 and 59 seconds and... BRRRRIINNNG BRRRRINNNG BRRRRINNG. You shut the phone alarm off. You look around in the rear view mirrors and up the site. Nobody is around you for half a K. Ok... its safe. Do what you gotta do...

You unzip your coveralls and pull something out, holding it up to your nose. My shirt still smells like me. You make another move with your hand, this time down beneath the elastic of your panties. You've got some inspiration and that clit is not going to rub itself now, is it?

You look up the line. There is still nobody. You give yourself a nasty self-abusing frig just like all those other times so far and think about when we are going to...

BRRRING BRRRRRING BRRRRINNG... it's your fucking phone. You thought you'd put it on vib... Hey wait, its me.

"Hello? How are you doin? Where are yo.." you start to ask.

"Congratulations on the book," I interrupt. I really should let you get a word in edgewise more often, but hey... I'm me. You wouldn't have it any other way anyhow.

"Thank you," you come back, all happy and relieved,

"so much hard work finally paid off!"

"I know," I agree into my phone, "listen there is going to be a huge book festival in Vancouver next month. I talked to your publisher. I probably shouldn't interfere in his business but anyhow, I told him it's probably a good idea for you to be there and he agreed with me, out there on the golf course."

"But," you come back with your mind whirring too fast, "Vancouver, I couldn't I mean I just got a week's worth of leave and I need the time for next summer and how am I going to tell her I'm... "

"Don't think, stop thinking," I correct you. There's a pause, then there is acceptance of what is coming. For a nice change (and for the first time in a couple of weeks), you do as a man tells you; knowing this is going to get wonderfully complicated again.

The End

... at least until I am asked to write more!