Crane, R [ Southern Watch 03] Corrupted (2 page)

“You won’t,” he said, putting all his soothe into it. He tried to make his voice low and confident. “I can make sure that doesn’t happen, a friend of mine taught me how.”

She glanced at him sideways. “Really?” That innocence was working in his favor.

“Really,” he said. Not really, though. Not a chance. But once she said yes and they did it, it wasn’t his problem anymore.

“O-okay,” she said, and that was all he needed, just that quick half nod. He could see the reluctance in how she held herself, still stiff and uncertain, eyes downward.

Mick leaned in and kissed her again, sucked on the side of her neck, and now she got tense from that and not the reservations pinging around in her head like the ball in that game he’d seen once on somebody’s TV, bouncing off the little lines. He ran that hand up her shirt behind, tips of his fingers running over that lightly sweaty skin, slipping their way up to the fastener for her bra.

She gasped when he popped it loose in one. Reached his hand up to the promised land as he helped her slide out of the seat and onto the bottom of the metal car. It was a little rough, true, but he felt her warmth, felt his weight against her. She was going along, but she had that look on her face, still scared. He smiled, trying to reassure her as he knelt down. She just lay flat on her back like she knew how it was all going to play out. Worked for him.

He leaned in and kissed her again, and again. She wasn’t the one forcing the tongue anymore, maybe because she was all nerves and no energy. That was just fine, though, and he slid her shirt up and pulled the loosened bra down to expose perfect, slightly browned nipples against her pale flesh. Her legs were all tanned, but she had dark lines that ended where her shirt collars came, and everything south of there was near-white, nothing like the brown skin of her arms outside the sleeves.

She drew a ragged breath as he looked her in her eyes—still innocent, still scared—and kissed her nipple gently. She sighed, and some of the fear melted into pleasure. Some. He kissed her more deeply, and she stirred, moaned. They’d clicked another forty-five degrees up, and Mick knew the Ferris wheel was like a ticking clock—but he still had plenty of time. He let his hand drift lower while his mouth stayed occupied, and he unfastened her jean shorts.

She helped a little, shifting so he could pull them down. He didn’t go too far with them at first, just to below her knees. He left her white panties just where they were. Damned things covered all, but it didn’t matter because now he could get some fingers down in there. It was sweaty and damp, maybe just from the heat, but Mick didn’t care. The moistness turned him on and he suckled harder on her nipple as he started to explore the crotch of her panties. Her moans got a little louder now as he took his time, warming her up gently, soothing on the outside before he even thought about dipping a finger in.

She was moaning within a few minutes as they clicked into the twelve o’clock position on the Ferris wheel. Mick could feel how damned hard and ready he was, but he wasn’t gonna take a chance and botch this. Rush and she might get cold feet. Warm up her pussy and everything else would stay ready for him when the moment came, too. She was getting into it now, he had one finger barely into her while he was rubbing her clitoris and had his lips on her nipple. She had a hand over her mouth, though, like she was trying to keep her heavy breathing from being heard by anyone. His tongue was occupied by her left nipple now, though, or he would have told her that nobody could hear them.

He could feel her desire rising and wondered if she ever did this to herself. If not, he was just giving her all the gifts tonight, wasn’t he? Doubtful she’d appreciate it, though, after he was gone. He glanced up and saw her bite down on her own wrist as she nearly cried out, and he knew it was time.

Mick let her breast fall out of his mouth and pulled away from her. He stared at her eyes, saw the reluctance, the
Why’d you stop?
He tugged her panties all the way down to her shorts and then wrapped his fingers around them as he pulled them down to her feet and worked them free of one of her white cloth shoes. He noticed the green grass stains on the shoe and smiled. She was helping him get them off and when he unfastened his pants and pushed them down to his ankles, she watched him the whole time with a hungry look.

He walked on his knees up to between her legs, awkward as the metal stung his kneecaps with each movement. He ignored it, because who gave a fuck right now? Other than Mandy. She was about to give a fuck.

Hopefully a hell of a fuck.

He could see her wince a little when he pushed in the first time, even though he tried to be gentle. There was only so gentle you could be and still break through, though; at least, that was his experience. He was leaned down over her, his pelvis on hers, weight on his knees which were letting him know they weren’t all that happy about the metal bottom of the car they were resting on. He still didn’t care.

He went slow at first. Felt her biting her lip because it probably still hurt. She was damned tight, tight and a little dry to start, but she got wetter as he went. By the time the wheel clicked down again to between ten and eleven o’clock, he could feel things starting to build. His dick was leaden, and when he thought it couldn’t swell anymore, it damned sure did, the pressure building. He was still a good ways off, though.

Mick felt his eyes roll as he kept going. It was all through him now, the pleasure. How could this feel so damned good? He didn’t know, didn’t care, just wanted it. His head was rushing, too, both of them, but the one atop his neck was getting into the act. Any minute now, it was going to open up, going to—

Here it went—

Mick felt his mind expand as he ground his cock into Mandy. Before it was like he could just feel her, here in the box and car of the Ferris wheel, locked in between ten and eleven o’clock on the arc. His dick was calling out its pleasure, every nerve shouting its enjoyment of the sweet slide in and out that he was grinding out on her. He could feel his pubic hair matted and pushing against hers with every thrust, could feel his balls slap just below her pussy.

But when his mind opened up, suddenly he wasn’t just living the pleasure in the car on the Ferris wheel.

He was elsewhere, too.

He could sense the girl in the car at twelve o’clock, twenty-two years old, sitting next to her boyfriend whose name was Mark. Hers was Caroline, and she had dark hair and small tits, and Mick could feel himself in her, too, like he was there. He could hear her moaning in his mind, her body slumped against the back of the seat with her boyfriend beside her. She smelled like peaches, tasted like cinnamon and sugar when his tongue met hers, and she wasn’t nearly so sweaty as Mandy. She’d fucked before, knew what it felt like, and she leaned into him as he put it into her. Her moans were stronger, her whole feel was stronger, and she was ignoring the boyfriend next to her in favor of the strange sensation of amazing pleasure sliding into her, blotting out everything else around her—

It was the same in the car below, with a woman married twenty years to the same man. Her name was Gail, and Mick could feel her too, feel her at the same time he could feel Mandy and Caroline. She had an older-lady perfume, but he didn’t care. She was ready as he entered her, throwing her head back and moaning as he did it, her eyes glazing over as he kissed her neck the way he did with Mandy. Her husband was next to her, said something to her, but she didn’t even hear it because she was completely wrapped up in Mick and what he was doing to her.

Mick could feel his mind expand away from the Ferris wheel, covering the ground around him. He was with all those women at once, every one of them, and it felt SO. AMAZING. Like it had with Mandy by herself but times a hundred, then two hundred as more and more of them found their way into his path. He could feel his brain expanding like a balloon getting blown up and more and more women feeling him inside. Too many to name, even though he tried. Jillian, Cathy, Michelle, Patty—old, young, who gave a shit? It felt so damned good.

So.

Damned.

Good.

The Ferris wheel started to move again as Caroline above them moaned so loud Mick could hear it with his waking ears down below. He wondered if Mandy noticed, but he didn’t care as his mind expanded again to the town around them. He could feel them all, all the women who’d had any awakening, who’d felt this kind of passion, he could feel every last one of them, and he was inside them, could smell the perfumes and the sweat and the night air and taste their skin and tongues and salty sweetness as he moved toward that explosive climax—

When he came, he didn’t pull out, not at all, just felt himself jerk in Mandy and keep going until it was done. He could feel the cum shoot out, squirting like he’d had his balls in a tight grip and then someone had loosened it. His body went slack, and he lay his head down on the girl’s shoulder, sweaty hair against the sheen of perspiration.

The world shrunk around him, and he said goodbye to all the women he’d just loosed himself in. His breathing was heavy, and he was still in her, still in—what was her name? Mandy—and he didn’t want to move even though his knees hurt like fucking hell.

His crotch was sticky and damp, pubic hair matted down where it touched hers. He felt the soft cloth of her t-shirt against his chin and wished he’d been able to take it off so he could rest his cheek on her soft, pale shoulder where the sun hadn’t tanned her skin. But they were clicking into the nine o’clock position now and he only had a couple minutes before they were down and Richie was opening the door to let them out.

It kind of tickled and kind of hurt when he pulled out, that sticky, dried out feeling like his dick had gotten glued into her. She cringed when he did it and he saw the hint of blood tingeing the swollen, red-purple skin around the head of his cock. “Damn that was good,” he whispered. She didn’t answer. He had a feeling she didn’t feel the same.

He got up on his knees and pulled his underpants up first, felt his dick stick to the cloth, still hard. He’d still be hard when he got off the Ferris wheel, there was no avoiding that. Walking around with a big old hard-on was embarrassing, but he had no concern about it. There was this dim sense of relief over him now, like all his cares had just gotten washed away—or more likely, gotten shot out at the end of their little tryst.

Mick fastened his pants and put his ass up on the seat. He didn’t spare a glance to Mandy, who was still lying flat on her back, watching him, with her jean shorts and white cover-all underwear hanging off of one foot, bra pushed down and her shirt up to expose small, pale breasts. “Ride’s gonna end soon,” Mick said matter-of-factly. “Might want to get dressed.” He let out a long, heavy breath and felt all the tension bleed out of him.

“Okay.” Her voice was small, and she extended a hand toward him so he could help her up. He glanced at it and ignored it, putting his eyes to the slatted window that afforded him a view of the fair beyond. They’d missed the view from the apex.

Mick could feel the last of his cum drying in his underwear like concrete. It always hurt to clean that off later, but it was worth it. After a moment of waiting, Mandy sat up on her own and fumbled to fasten her own bra. It took her a minute, and Mick wondered idly why they didn’t make them fasten in fucking front.

“Ohhh,” Mick said, like a man who’d just let a huge burden off. He had, really. He put his arms up and folded his hands behind his head, and watched Mandy fumble back into her underpants and shorts out of the corner of his eye while he sat like a fucking king who’d just gotten crowned. “Damn, that was good.”

Mandy was looking at him; he could see that from the little he was watching her. Looking at him like she was a dog he’d kicked, not sure if she should come around him again. “Was it?”

“It was,” Mick said, nodding. He could feel his sweaty, tangled hair against his hands, and the faint aroma of her pussy was still on his fingers, he could smell it all the way around the back of his head. The whole Ferris wheel car smelled a little like sex, and Mick fucking loved it. There was nothing like these moments after the urge was relieved. If he could have taken a nap right now, he would have and loved it.

“Was I …” Mandy’s voice was small, “was I … good?”

“Hell, no,” Mick said, almost laughing, “you were terrible. You just lay there, like a dead body or something. That ain’t sexy.”

Now he looked at her full on, and that innocence, it was all damned gone and replaced by a stricken look that turned to horror in the eyes that had been so sweet before. “I … I …”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said breezily as the car clicked down to the last position between seven and eight o’clock on the wheel. “It’s not like I needed you to be amazing or anything.” He thought about petting her on her tousled hair but didn’t want to move his hands from cushioning the back of his head against the metal car wall. “Still, learn to move, baby. Get into it so you’re not so boring for the next guy.”

“Next guy?” Her lip quivered with her voice.

He shrugged. He could say something fiercely mean and utterly truthful to that, but what was the point now? He’d got his rocks off, she’d let him use her to expand his mind, and it was all good for him. She was sitting there with her pants halfway pulled up, little trail of blood and other ooze working its way down her inner thigh. He stared, thinking about how he’d like to do that again but knowing he couldn’t because even if she’d wanted to—and he was under no illusions she would—he was leaving town in just hours.

“I thought you … felt something for me,” Mandy said quietly. It was all hurt from her, like she’d got shattered by what he’d said and did. Mick could pick up on it; hell, a deaf and blind man could have picked up on it from this distance.

“I did,” Mick said with a laugh, “and it was called a raging hard-on.” He waggled his crotch at her from where he sat. “Thanks for helping me take care of it.”

The Ferris wheel started to move that last time, ratcheting down to the six o’clock starting point. Full circle. She started to speak again, but the sound of Richie unlatching the door from outside stopped her, and she turned her head like a rabbit toward its hunter as the door opened.