Hooking Jörmungandr

Her top was half open and I was massaging her breasts, with her pushing me away from the door into a back corner among the racks of food and liquor (Again. Cock hound, not a thief). They felt real and spectacular. I was running my hands up her skirt and lowering my head to do some hickey action on the twins, when she unexpectedly stumbled and hooked her heel behind mine as I was stepping backwards. I fell, my head and elbow cracking against the concrete floor. "Son of a bitch! Be careful." I said in as calm tones as I could as she landed on top of me.

She straddled my waist on her knees and her hands were on both sides of my head as she looked down at me, smiling distantly. "Oh poor baby. Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"Nah. I'm okay. Come here." I really didn't want to break the mood and my hands were running up under her skirt again, looking for her ass and idly wondering if I could score her panties.

"Sure. I just have one question for you."

"Okay..."

"Do girls really fall for your crap?" She smiled at me, and it wasn't the coquette smile. It was a calculating bitch smile.

God damn it! She was a Class Five, Blue Ball Busting Cock Tease! I twisted my thigh because women seemed to feel they had a license to just kick guys in the balls, particularly cock teases. I'd had enough experience with forceful rejections and the fucking cops never seemed to care. Bastards.

"Alright. Let me the fuck up." I said. You get your shot and that's it.

"I mean...I guess it works, because you kept trying and trying. But the fact you thought I would be that stupid...that I'd accept that kind of loss...it's insulting."

Didn't she ever shut up? "I suppose a simple 'not interested' would have been too much trouble? Why the hell did you ask for someplace private if you weren't going to do anything?"

"Because that was a public place. Because I didn't want people to see us together. Right now, you're just a guy I had a couple of dances with."

"Who had his hands on your tits." I rubbed in.

"The price I decided to pay." Her voice started to raise. "To think that you would risk my relationship because you wanted to get your dick wet? That I would drop something I treasured simply for some slick bastard?"

I slapped some dust off my jacket. "Whatever you say, sweetheart..." The night officially sucked! I did get to feel her tits and ass and I'd get a charge out of telling her husband that (though part of my brain was REALLY screaming at me about that idea), but at this point I was looking forward to fucking and I had a raging hard on to prove it. I hate teases.

CHEK-CHAK!

"You aren't listening to me."

There are some danger sounds which are ubiquitous in our culture. Police sirens. Tornado alarms. The sound of a FUCKING BULLET being chambered in an automatic! And there was this crazy blonde chick with a real fucking gun between me and the only door out of here!

"Tell me, have you ever fallen down stairs?"

"I guess clumsy people do." I said very carefully.

Her voice hardened. "No. Stupid people do. They make the wrong choice.. and they find what they thought was that magic someone who's important and wealthy and...and then...things aren't magical. And you fall down the stairs that first time." Her face got blank. "And then it's a door...and a volley ball. And people stand there and they look at your casts and they accept the lies because they're uncomfortable about getting involved.. And you talk about it to the police, but it's a small town and they play cards together. And for two years, I fell down the stairs, hitting every fucking step on the way down to nothing until...someone found me. Someone helped me make sense of my life. SOMEONE stopped the falling. And you want to take that away from me? Her eyes were dark, almost without iris. Just dark pools looking at me.

This from the girl who was dry humping guys on the dance floor and had her tongue down my throat?

A niggling part of my mind started to scream for attention. She had danced one dance with each guy. And would you be in here if she hadn't?

"Yeah. You two seem to have a real special relationshiiit!" I finally noticed her necklace. The 'pendant' was a little gold washed 9 mm shell casing. I couldn't stop looking at it.

She noticed my gaze and smirked, eyes blazing. "Do you like it? We decided to go the non-traditional route for engagement jewelry."

"Look...I can see I may have caused you...ah...offense. I want to SINCERLY and COMPLETELY apologize for anything you took the wrong way. This is a misunderstanding." Did anyone else hear my heart pounding?

"That's nice. He used to write how sorry he was on my casts. Little poems and 'I love you's'. Somehow it didn't make it hurt less. But if it makes you feel better, I apologize for any pain I cause you..." She started to raise the gun.

Knock----knock knock

She pointed her finger at me. "Hold that thought." She skipped...the fucking bitch SKIPPED to the door and unlocked it, watching me the whole time. That tall fucker walked in, looked at me and her and sighed, shaking his head, closed the door.

She got on tip toes and rubbed her cheek against his neck in an almost feral way, watching me with slitted eyes.. "Hi Puddin! Look what I scraped off my shoe!"

He just smiled. "Hey Babe. Whatcha doing?"

"Well, from just a short acquaintanceship, I'd call it a public service."

He sighed again. "I got you something." He reached under his jacket and pulled out a package of plastic sheeting, an empty coke bottle and a packet of those yellow bleach handi wipes.

"You" kiss "bring" kiss "the best" kiss "presents!" She stripped the plastic wrapping off the tarp and started to push it into the coke bottle. "Isn't he thoughtful?" she asked me.

"You two are just shitting me! You're trying to scare me!"

"Yeah. That's it. Are you scared yet?" He tossed out offhandedly as he started to pull on a pair of latex gloves from his pocket.

"Come on!" I shouted. "You can't just kill me because I wanted some strange puss..." I clamped my mouth shut at their narrow glares.

"People getting shot over sex every day. And today is your lucky day..."

"You call this lucky?"

"Bad luck is still luck. I bet you wish you'd picked the first option now..." he smirked. I fucking HATE smirks! I told you they caused bad blood.

"First option?" she asked.

"Yes. I offered to just punch him in the mouth and we'd call it even."

Hope was starting to bubble up in my heart as she turned, looking at me incredulously. "You mean he warned you and you STILL tried to get in my pants, you fucking MORON?!?"

"I changed my mind. That first option looks pretty good."

She molded herself to his side, while still keeping her gun hand free. "HUN-neee...that agreement is null and void. He made his run at me" Her voice flattened. "And he had his hands on my ass. I need a bath!" She considered. "I think we are WAY beyond a punch in the mouth."

"What do you have in mind, pumpkin?"

She pulled an iPhone out from the case on his belt "He didn't take your offer. But I suppose he could ASK for an ass whuppin." She hit the record button.

"There is no fucking way I'm asking him to whip my ass!" Who were these people?

"Asking AND letting." She shrugged, tucked the phone away and turned to him "Did you remember to park in back?"

"Of course. And before you ask, I already laid down more sheeting in the trunk."

"Oh good! I don't want a repeat of last time," she trilled as she patted his cheek affectionately.

"Last time?" I asked "The joke's gone on long enough."

They ignored me. "I know! Replacing the carpet liner was bad enough but that fiber board was a real pain. I was talking to a guy about custom fitting a plastic trunk base for us. Save on clean up." He shook out the plastic sheeting.

"Okay! I get it! I'm really really sorry!"

"He should get us a price. And that might be an option from the manufacturer. I'll check the catalog." She started to hold the plastic bottle to the barrel like a silencer, frowning at it. "Did you remember the duct tape?"

He sighed in a long suffering fashion. "I didn't get duct tape because we were already supposed to have some in the car. But when I checked, I couldn't find it," he said in a semi accusing voice.

"Oh Curtis! I know I had two fresh rolls on the shopping list. Did you check the glove compartment?"

"Excuse me!" I shouted for their attention. "People will miss me!" Would they miss me? Exactly how many suspects did I have in my...oh shit!

"Of course I checked the glove compartment. AND under the seats. You'll just have to make due. So the abandoned quarry?"

"That's the way I'd go. It's rain tomorrow so that takes care of the tracks. We should stop at the house and get some chain to weight him down."

"WAIT!!!"

***

I was just opening my good eye when I heard "Smile!" Then a flash took away my vision. By the time I could see again, she was humming contentedly, picking up the coins off the floor. It seems that one of the things that bastard wanted to pick up was a roll of quarters and the wrapper broke about the same time as my bicuspid.@

"What was that about?" he asked as he was icing his knuckles with a bar towel pack.

"Just something for the Christmas card. Oooh! Does my baby bear have sore hands?" She started to blow on his knuckles.

I coughed loudly twice and spat blood. "Rrrmmbr tha' drnk? Ah'll tek en sss pack 'nsted." I said around my swollen face. This wasn't the first time I'd been found by an irate husband though normally I didn't need to breathe shallowly. You needed to ice up early. Trust me.

He walked over and took the ice pack towel and rubbed it around this brown thing which he tossed on my chest, dropping the ice pack on it too. Eventually my eye focused enough to see it was my wallet. "Are we done here? Or are you going to be stupid Reginald Perry of 1313 Mockingbird Lane? You won't see us again, but are we going to have to seeyou?"

"Mmm good. Wha am I gon t'll cops?"

"Tell them you walked into a big fucking door! It always worked for me." she said grimly.

"Now, now!" he chided. "We got everything?" Nod. They turned and started leaving the room. "Oh...by the way. I got you some Mustang valve stems."

"REALLY? And what am I going to do with Mustang valve stems...whatever they are?" she asked eagerly.

"Oh...I was thinking of taking the insides and putting a nice gold wash on them, a few hoops and making a couple of sets of earrings..." the door closed.

It took me a moment to put it together and then I groaned. Now I needed to ding Reese for a cab to the doctor. I wondered if the Urgent Care Clinic was still open.

Yep. Way past time to get out of town. Fuck Ohio! Fuck Concealed Carry! I needed to find a place with nice strict gun control laws! I'd heard good things about California...++

***

Every writer gets an over the top story and this is mine.

If you'd like to post long diatribes about the legal ramifications or technical malfeasances, please do so. Unfortunately, the comment section for this particular story is very spotty and if it doesn't show up, just keep trying. Get very detailed. It will work eventually. Trust me.

Comments on the writing, good and bad, are always welcome.

* One day Thor went fishing and he hooked Jörmungandr, the Midgard Serpent that twisted around the world, which shocked the shit out of everyone involved. He was delighted to get such a creature since it would prove his studliness once and for all and he raised his hammer to kill it. This pretty much proves that Thor was both evil AND stupid , since the Midgard Serpent was the only thing keeping the Earth together and he didn't give a shit about the numerous mortals living on the planet...or appreciate the fact that while HE lived in Asgard, he currently wasn't there...

**The author is not responsible for the nefarious ways scumlords like Reg use Mustangs. I'm sure that other Mustang owners possess them for the purest of motives.

+ Bear in mind I know nothing about women. I am not a Player, nor do I play one on TV. My coolness quotient is WAY low. I do not advocate the use of any of these techniques on anyone, anywhere. If you do, I hope you get what you deserve. (And if they work, contact me by PM...hush! The wife is coming! Act natural!)

@ This naturally lead to another tedious 'discussion' about who misplaced the fucking duct tape. Is there anything duct tape CAN'T do? Three out of four murderers swear by the stuff.

++Which just goes to prove how stupid Reg is. Does he really think those two give a damn about gun control laws?