Page 27 of Black Flag

I had no idea what heplanned to do with an air socket and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to find out.

“Omeletfor me?”He threw the socket down.

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“That’s right...omelet for me,” he bent forward and kisseddown my calf. “Fuck that’s tight.”

Jameson pulled back andthen pushed forward again, groaning as he did so. “Careful, don’t get tangledon that hose.”

“Hose...” he smirked. “I’ll show you a hose.”

“I’m serious. Your footis caught in it. Just here...move...dothat.”

“No, no...don’t...that...”

We landed together onthe floor. “What happened to you?”

“I slipped on thehose.” I wiggled my hips reaching for him.

“I’ve got your hose.”

“Yes you do...now stop talking and fuck me,” hegrowled his feet rested flat on the floor pushing his hips up.

Throwing my head backand moaning like a whore, I rode my dirty talking heathen.

“Fuck that’s good.”

“You like that don’tyou, honey.” Jameson grinned with a smug wink. His loops of hair were in completedisarray from the oil and his face smudged with grease.

“Yes...so good.” I speed my movements chasingthe release I needed after all that teasing.

“Ah...shit...honeyI’m...slow down.” His toneguttural as he tried to halt my movements but as soon as those words left hisbeautiful lips, I was falling; falling hard as my orgasm ravaged me, my hipsrocking back and forth. His hands dug into my hips, bruising my skin, keepingme in place now.

He wasn’t done with meyet.

Flipping me over, henudged my knees apart almost carelessly, my back pressed to the hard, coolconcrete floor of the shop. His eyes burned into me as he dragged hisfingertips from my mouth, down the center of my body, between my breasts. Hispaced quickened as he raced toward his own release.

Groaning into my ear, Icould feel him shivering and pulsing inside of me, his back arching at theforce as he chanted my name. Our cries of pleasure filled the four thousandsquare foot shop.

It took a while to beable to move again and figure out what body part could move in what directionwithout pulling a muscle or dislocating something.

“Why are you crawling?”I laughed watching him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t think I canactually stand at this point. I have no bodily fluids left; therefore, I’m toodehydrated to walk. I crawl instead.”

“You weren’tcomplaining earlier.” I pointed out still watching his crawl.

“Well no, you promisedme an omelet.” He looked back at me. “Don’t forget that part.”

“Yes.Omelet.I shall cook now.”

I helped Jameson up andmade it back toward the kitchen.

How many race shops hadkitchens in them? Only Jameson would do something like that but it was handyfor me.

The rest of theafternoon Jameson worked on his sprint cars. It seemed to provide a good distractionfor him. We both knew what was waiting for him once he returned to the track.

His distractions gotthe best of him and we soon found ourselves paying Emma back for the cougar inthe hospital. Like I said, Jameson with free time wasn’t looking good for Emma.

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