Page 85 of Brother In Arms

“Never heard of it.”

“The 80’s,” he said. “You had to be there.”

I laughed and he put it in and came over to the couch dropping onto it and stretching out. He patted his chest like I was a cat or something, but I didn’t complain, stretching out and laying on top of him. The movie was weird, silly, and dumb but awesome at the same time, with these god awful effects and neon lights meant to make things look all mystical. It was hysterical, and Kurt Russell and Kim Cattrall looked so young.

When the monster popped up on the back of the bobtail tractor trailer at the end I threw back my head and laughed asking, “Are you kidding me!?”

“No, it’s like the best thing ever, isn’t it?”

“Oh my god, it was sooo bad! Is there more?”

“What? No, that’s the end!”

“Are you serious? There’s not a sequel?”

“Nope.”

“Oh man! There needs to be a sequel.”

“Well, there isn’t.”

“Ahhhh!” I hugged him tight and Rush chuckled.

“Come here,” he said and I crawled the few inches up his body to put my lips against his. His hands drifted down my back and cupped my lower back, just above my ass. I flicked my tongue against his bottom lip and he moaned appreciatively and let me in.

We kissed like we weren’t two grown adults, but rather like we were a pair of teenagers, discovering one another for the first time. There was something different about this time rather than any other time we’d kissed. Something deeper, more appreciative, more… fragile.

We parted naturally, breathing slowed, his caresses, heavier, more languid. I found my hands tangled in the front of his shirt, holding on for dear life. He smiled and looked at me, tracing some of my hair out of my face, tucking it gently behind my ear.

“I think I’d like to go back to your room, now.”

“I think I’d like that, too, babe.”

I got up and he turned off the TV. We went out and around to the back door, and once again he swept me up into his arms.

“Oh, well; looks like they’re going to fuck,” I heard someone say, followed by a burst of laughter as I gave them the finger behind Rush’s back as we passed.

“She’s related to Tilly alright,” I heard a grizzled, older voice, say. Some more laughter, fonder and almost reminiscent. I knew how they felt. I missed my aunt too, even though it’d been years since before she’d died since I’d last saw her. She’d been one special lady.

Rush didn’t set me down inside the door this time. Instead, he carried me up the hallway, all the way to his bedroom. I bit my lip as he stooped and managed to get the unlocked door open without dropping me. He pushed it open and kicked it shut behind us, flinging me onto the bed. I squealed and landed in the softness of it laughing, bouncing twice.

Rush wasn’t laughing. He was stripping his tank over his head, stepping out of his slippers. He pushed the lounge pants off his hips and to the floor and snatched me by the ankle, turning me on my stomach and peeling the shorts off my legs. I gasped, and pulled his tee off from over my head, struggling a bit where it was trapped under my body.

He licked a wet line, dragging his tongue from my heel all the way up the back of one leg, nipping my left butt cheek with a little playful growl. I yipped and arched low and his hand crashed into the right, leaving a deliciously stinging handprint.

I fisted the covers and writhed a little from it and he groaned. I looked over my shoulder and clearly saw just how much he appreciated the view. His cock standing straight up and at attention, his gaze leaving a tingle of warmth where it travelled over my skin. He wrapped his hand around himself and pumped his erection through his fist. I gasped again, a sharp little exhale of breath, and my pussy gave a delighted little anticipatory throb.

I wanted that. I wanted him inside me, and I wanted it hard. I wanted him to fuck me so hard it left a permanent impression of my body in his mattress and I wasn’t afraid to beg for it. I whined and raised my ass up off the bed, an offering. An offering which he gladly took, straddling my thighs and working for the right angle. There! He pressed into me and I cried out, thrusting my hips back onto him.

Too slow, he was moving too slow, too careful. I wanted it and so I said, “That all you got, biker boy? I thought you were gonna fuck me.”

“Oh, is that how you like it?” he asked, voice tinged with amusement.

“Yeah,” I gasped. Still too slow, still too careful, his hands pressing me into the mattress, hard, on my shoulders, pinning me so I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Beg me, rich little bitch,” he said. “I want you to beg for that cock.”

“Please,” I whined, “give it to me, Rush. I need it.”

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