SHIVER: 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror (34 page)

I rolled my eyes and put the note in the drawer of the side table. Sean was going to taste my shoe after I stuck it so far up is ass for this stunt. Really? One thirty in the fucking morning? I would have completely ignored this except for one thing: I was in it to win it.

At about one
thirty in the morning, my phone alarm vibrated, waking me so I could follow through on the mystery note. I had a serious bone to pick with Sean for pulling this stunt. Maybe I’d slip some milk of magnesia in his oatmeal. I peered at the other side of the bed to a sleeping Miles. I could have roused him for a quickie before I trotted downstairs. But I was out to win this game, so I didn’t share my secret clue.

I slid out of bed and put my bra, shirt, and sweatpants on. No need to scare the house ghost I was sure haunted the place because of my jiggling triple D love mounds. I supposed if it came down to it, I could always use them as weapons. Sometimes they felt like heavy boulders. I padded my way across the dark room and made sure the bedroom door didn’t squeak. The creaking stairs proved to be another feat. I took one step at a time, cringing if the steps made a popping noise. I finally hit the bottom of the stairs and glanced back up to see if I woke anyone up using my stealthy ninja techniques.

The house was dark and I made a mental note to talk to Marie about getting some night lights in place before they got sued by someone breaking their neck. However, that would make the murder mystery game more authentic if someone actually kicked the bucket. I looked at the note again to remind myself of my task.

Obviously, I was supposed to head to the kitchen for something. Maybe I’d be surprised with cupcakes with cream cheese frosting! I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
Focus!
I looked around for the kitchen. When I found it, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and I was thoroughly disappointed my fantasy cupcakes were not waiting for me. I looked on the granite countertops for any notes left behind. I even searched through the cabinets. I huffed in frustration because I could have been sleeping in my warm bed next to my man meat, but instead I was chasing an empty clue.

“Find what you’re looking for?” a deep voice said from behind me.

A deep voice I was well acquainted with. A deep voice that usually whispered dirty things in my ears.

“Don’t turn around. I like the view from behind,” he said.

“I’m supposed to be searching for a clue for this stupid ass game,” I waved my hands around the kitchen, then felt along the counter top to see if anything was there.

“There was a note left for you in our room?”

“Yes. I’m going to have a serious talk with Sean and Marie about their game tactics.”

“Maybe they didn’t write the note.”

“Oh, then who did?”

I heard him move behind me, and he brushed my hair over my shoulder. He blew a small breath across my bare neck, making my body shiver.

“Maybe it was the house ghost.”

“You mean the house ghost with an impressively large cock that’s hard and pressing into my ass?”

“Perhaps,” he whispered.

Oh, the whispering! It sent electricity straight to my Bermuda Triangle. He wrapped his large hands around my abdomen and slid them under the hem of my shirt. I sucked in a breath when his hands touched my skin. Slowly, he raised them until he was cupping my breasts.

“Why the fuck are you wearing a bra? Your tits should be available at all times.”

And in one solid motion he grabbed both cups of my bra and pulled them down, releasing my breasts from their confinement. He skillfully rolled my nipples with his fingers, giving them a small pinch. I cried out in both pleasure and pain.

“Shh, or I’ll have to grab one of those kitchen towels and gag your mouth.”

Oh, holy hell, I was going to explode like Slimer in
Ghostbusters
. All that would be left of me would be a puddle of orgasm on the floor. That would make interesting morning discussion.

He continued his onslaught of my body by moving his hands from my breasts down to the front of my sweatpants and slipping his hands inside.

“Let’s see how wet my sweetness is for me. If it isn’t slick enough, I might have to use my tongue.”

Christ on a cracker. The man was going to kill me with his dirty mouth. My tombstone would read: Here lies Moxie. She was killed by dirty words. She didn’t stand a chance. God help her soul.

Two thick fingers slid inside me, searching for the answer to his question.

“Ah, you are wet. But you could always use some more slickness.”

With urgency he pulled my sweatpants and panties down to my ankles, leaving me exposed to the cool air.

“Bend forward, grab the counter, and spread.”

I followed his instructions, bending at the waist and gripping the granite as if my life depended on it. Miles went down on his knees and pulled my hips back to meet his mouth with urgency and fervor. His tongue delved into my core, sweeping across in my clit with every stroke. I panted as the pleasure built up in my gut. His hands gripped my hips so hard, I knew he would leave bruise marks. And I loved every second of it.

But then he stopped before I could find my release and moved back up my body. His mouth met my ear, and I could smell myself on his breath.

“I was going to let you come on my tongue, but I need to be inside you right now, or I’ll fall apart.”

My knees threatened to buckle at those words. I heard him pull his boxer briefs down releasing what I knew to be an impressive erection. He grabbed my sore hip and plunged deep inside of me, letting a pleading groan escape his lips.

“Oh God, sweetness, you’re so damn tight,” he grunted in a low tone.

I was swept away in the pleasure of the moment. His pace quickened and his breath became ragged. He reached around my waist to he could fondle my clit while to pounded into me.

“Moxie, I want you to fucking come for me.”

It only took those words to send me off the cliff. He moved the hand he was stroking me with up to cover my mouth and stifle my cries of pleasure. After a few more thrusts, he buried his head in my neck, biting the skin to quiet his own cries. After a few moments we both returned to earth and the present.

Through my ragged breathing, I said, “We could have done this upstairs in bed.”

Miles panted as well. “But where would be the mystery? That is the game right?”

“I think you’re using sex as a distraction technique so you can win the game.” I chuckled.

“No, I’m using sex because you’ve made my dick hard all night.”

“You mean the love affair with the head of the pom-poms squad wasn’t it doing it for you?” I said, poking his chest lightly.

“Nah, I always liked the misfits better. They were always more kinky.”

I turned around and placed a sweet but hard kiss on his lips. “This misfit is now sated, happy, and ready to go back to bed.”

I pulled my clothing back into place. Miles followed suit and grabbed my hand to lead me back upstairs. I reached our room and opened the door. When Miles had gotten up to come down stairs he had left a lamp on in the room so we could see our way back to the bed.  But instead we saw Sam lay on our bed spread eagle naked as the day he was born. It was a horrific sight! He saw Miles and me and quickly grabbed the sheet to cover himself.

“What the fuck?” I yelled. “What the hell are you doing in my bed butt ass naked?”

“Didn’t Miles get the note?” His eyes widened and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You wrote the note?” I said.

“Yeah. But he was supposed to get it so I could come in here and find you gloriously naked and horny.”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do with the note?” Miles asked, trying very hard to keep calm.

“You were supposed to go downstairs and look for clues. I figured you didn’t look very bright, so it would take you a while,” Sam said.

Miles and I looked at each other, I gave him a wink and a smirk. Without saying anything he knew exactly what I meant.

“You’re right, Sam, I must not be that bright. I’ll go back down and look for clues.” Miles took one more look at me and walked out of the room.

Sam looked pleasantly surprised with this turn of events and eyed me like I was dessert. I glided over to the bed, crawled on top, and swung my leg over Sam’s lower thighs.

I smirked at him and, in my most sultry voice, said, “You were right all along. I’ve been wanting you, bad.”

“Yeah?” Sam said with the same excitement as a dog waiting for a bone.”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting all night to do this,” I sat on my knees and flipped my hair, bringing on all the charm I could think off.

“Give me all you’ve got, baby.”

I smiled, balled my hand into a hard fist, and punched his groin.

He let out a high pitched yelp, grabbed his balls, and tried twisting his body to the side. Miles came back into the room and surveyed the damaged. He threw his hand in the air and gave me a high five. “Nicely done.”

I climbed off the bed and turned my attention back to Sam. “You have two seconds to get your bruised balls out of our room.”

He slithered out of the room, still clutching his balls.

“So much for his family jewels,” Miles said.

“Yup. He’ll be lucky if there are any family jewels left to sell on QVC after that punch.” I laughed.

Morning arrived too
quickly after our romp in the kitchen. I woke up alone and felt cold in the sheets. Miles had gotten up some time ago and was probably downstairs getting his coffee. I was sore all over my body, especially were Miles gripped my hips. But I loved feeling this way, taken by the man who stole my heart. And my vagina.

I took a quick shower and got ready for a day of sleuthing. I walked downstairs and heard fast conversation. Or was it crying? I hurried into the dining room and found Miles, Renee, Ryan, Bob, and a crying, distressed Debbie.

“What’s wrong?” I inquired.

Debbie tried to speak through her broken sobs. “My jewelry is missing.”

I thought back to last night and the impressive amount of jewelry she had on her body.

“How much was taken?”

“About one million dollars’ worth of jewelry,” Bob said as he tried to console his young bride.

I couldn’t stop my lower jaw from falling to the floor when he said one million. I tried to put it into perspective by thinking about how many cupcakes I could buy with a million dollars. That was how I equated things… money to food. And that was a shitload of cupcakes.

“Are you sure? You were wearing a lot of beautiful jewelry last night?” I asked when what I really wanted to say was, “Ho, you were drowning in diamonds last night, quit your bitching.”

“Why don’t we go for another look,” said Ryan. “I’ll even go up and help you to look. Sometimes having a third set of eyes helps.”

Debbie nodded and Ryan and Bob took her back upstairs to start searching. I looked at Miles and Renee who sat in silence, staring at their cups of coffee.

Renee shrugged. “I guess we have a new mystery on our hands.”

“Dammit. I was finally on board with this stupid murder mystery, although last night there could have resulted in a real dead body.”

“Excuse me?” Renee looked from Miles to me.

“I’ll let Miles share the lovely details while I go feed the creature who owns me: my stomach.”

I walked into the kitchen to get a helping of whatever Marie had made for breakfast. I was hoping for some pancakes, bacon and hash browns, but was sorely disappointed when all I spotted were a few Danishes and fruit. The Danish. What a disappointment when it came to breakfast pastries. Not as advanced as the croissant and not as fruity as a torte. Basically, it was just a damned outcast. Don’t even get me started on the cheese Danish. What a travesty.

Marie stood at the stove, rolling something in her hands. I walked over to see if maybe I’d get lucky, and we’d have pancakes after all. She quietly muttered to herself and nervously shifted back and forth on her feet. I decided that I would have to cut off her coffee immediately or search for the coke was sniffing.

“What are you making?”

Marie gasped and turned around, dropped a ball of dough and put her hand over her chest.

“Moxie, God you scared me.”

“I see you’re a little on edge there. You might want to tone down the caffeine or take a break from a meth addiction,” I said, chuckling.

She returned my joke with a small laugh, but turned around and continued her cooking.

“What are you making?” I asked.

“Um, dumplings.”

“Those aren’t dumplings. Those are matzo balls,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, matzo balls. They’re like dumplings but they are made from matzo meal and shaped into balls like the ones your making.”

“Those aren’t balls. They’re dumplings. Besides, they’re made with flour.”

I could see I was going to have to give Marie a lesson on Jewish culture. The matzo ball was an important part of Jewish food groups. It was sort of like the food pyramid. Except at the top of the pyramid was corned beef and pastrami, followed by chopped liver, pickled hearing, kugel, and then at the bottom was matzo balls. This diet was otherwise known as the constipation diet.