Pump Rock

Mr. Peeps hasn't been in in a few weeks. He's missed a lot. The weather, per usual, skipped the rest of spring and leapt right into the hot, humid summer, and the skin-to-clothing ratio has flipped decidedly to the skin side. It's all I can do to not chase the skin around the library Harpo-style, reaching through the stacks to unknot a halter. God, Tara wore a cute, flouncy dress with a low, square-cut neckline last week, and a few times I worried about the integrity of my zipper. She'd bend over the bookbin while she talked to me, looking up now and then to make eye contact (being one of those people that has to do that), and of course it was all I could do to not look, or be discrete when I did. It was like firing a machine gun through a whirring propeller: If my timing was off just a bit I was a dead man.

I can't wait till I can date again. Only money has stopped me. The job hasn't posted yet, so it'll be late July before I see a boost in pay. I don't know how I'll do it, but I have to get laid soon. It's been over a year since I had any, and that was just luck. It was when I wasn't getting as many hours as I am now and leaving around two most days. I'd gone out the back door, of course. At the bookdrop was one of those cars Crocodile Dundee used to advertise, only it was several feet across from the drop. Somebody called, "Excuse me," from the car. I was already walking that way toward my car; I stopped at the window the voice had come out of. In comparative age, she was a girl, and probably wouldn't have minded being referred to that way--mid-twenties, I guess--with straight dark brown hair. Ample breasts, too, which I could see most of down a t-shirt whose collar was torn into a v-neck. She had two CD's, and held them out toward me. "Do you guys take donations?" "Yeah, but not CD's, I'm afraid." Her eyes were almost white-blue, whatever that is, and the left one, the one I looked into, had a tiny black dot near the outside edge of the iris.

She was disappointed. "It's my ex-boyfriend's stuff. I won't listen to it. Besides, it's his." Her short jean skirt didn't cover much of her lap. The sun slanting across her thigh lit up fine, never-shaved fuzz.

"What is it? I might like it." She handed me Punk-O-Rama 8 and Warped Tour 2003. "Never heard it, but I'm game." I grinned and looked at her. She was smiling. I guess she could have just driven off, but she let me say, "I hope you dumped him, not the other way around."

"No."

"Oh, what an idiot! He must've felt inadequate or something. You have to be better off."

"Oh, I am. No big loss." We were just looking at each other when she said, "You doing anything? You wanna do something?"

When I said, "Sure," I tried to sound like a cup of coffee meant a cup of coffee. I got in her car.

Her place was right around the corner, in one of those singles complexes. It wasn't messy so much as lived in, comfortable. She didn't apologize for the blanket on the sofa or the dishes in the sink. I didn't see a book, much less a bookcase. I expected a cat, but couldn't even smell one and didn't see any fur on the carpet or furniture.

"Would you like a beer? I don't want it. It's his, too."

"I will help you erase his memory in any way I can. It is my duty to drink his beer. It's what any knight would do for his lady." It was a bit thick, but she laughed, thank God, a sharp explosion from her diaphragm. I was afraid I'd told her I'd rescue her.

From that point there wasn't much talk between us. We skipped the life stories and kissed. Instant erection. It had been much, much longer than a year for me. The rest of my body relaxed until I couldn't tell where I left off and she began. I rubbed her arms lightly and slowly; she slipped her hands under my shirt where they crawled over my stomach. I did the same for her. I expected a little pooch of a belly, but there was little to grab--until I dislodged her bra and her breasts spilled over my hands, her nipples catching on the callouses at the bottom of my fingers.

She found my penis and released it from my pants. I lifted her shirt and bra off her. Her eyes glinted through slits. I wanted to kiss her but her head dropped into my lap. I hardly needed it, yet all she did was kiss it, on the very tip. It jumped and she giggled. She tried to squeeze it in her fist, but, "You're so hard!" She kissed it again and slid it into her mouth. Boy, if I didn't blow right then and cleft her palate.... I grabbed a buttock, slid a finger slowly down the cleft, and rimmed her anus. She moaned and distended it. I leaned toward it, saw it shining purple, gorged with blood. I pressed down on it and it opened like a flower and swallowed the tip of my finger. She shoved back on it, sending it deeper, meanwhile still tickling her uvula with my dick. In my fascination with her eating anus, I hardly felt what she was doing on my end beyond the throbbing against her toungue.

She came up off my penis dripping saliva, grabbed the back of my head and shot her tongue down my throat. I swallowed the spit and grabbed back. Hair was everywhere. I wanted to eat her, kiss her netherlips, slap her clitoris, but she'd already straddled me. She shoved her groin against mine kissing my shaft with her outer labia. My finger was still gladly trapped in her asshole. Clutching the back of the sofa on each side of my head, she pulled her lips to the top of my penis. My dick sprung outward on contact, and her pussy pounced on it. She did the work in that position, and I was in no position to complain, with a nipple in my mouth and two handfuls of ass.

Finally, I wrapped my arms around her and laid her down. I pulled away to lean on my hands and grinned in her grinning face. I teased her with a couple short slow strokes, then pulled out altogether. My penis glistened. She blew on it and it jumped. With my hand I found where it'd been and slid a couple fingers in and out, pulled upwards from the inside to spread her lips and ran my tongue from my fingers to her clit, exposing the little pearl and blowing on it. Her hips bucked but I didn't let up, rubbing, licking, kissing, sucking, blowing, till she clawed at my back trying to pull me into her. But I pulled away and gently turned her over. Then I went back inside. It couldn't have been wetter. She pushed her ass to the sky. I leaned over her back and bit her neck as I pounded several hard strokes. She tightened around me so hard I could barely pull back to shove in again. She shrieked softly into the cushion. I leaned away, shoved a finger in with my penis to get it wet, then slid it into her anus as far as it could go. She bucked and moaned. I began thrusting and thrusting with both rods. She grew tighter and louder, my groin began to glow with warmth, spreading into my thighs and abs, and I just exploded with a trembling roar over her screams.

For a long time afterwards we just laid together, spooned. We haven't seen each other again, though I know where she lives and she knows where I work. But we don't know each other's names. The CD's are good, though the punk's not really my thing.