Time Out

by Layla Simon

Five chunky plastic-wrapped packets stuck up in my business, feeling like the world’s largest and least absorbent tampons.

Probably because you’re walking into a prison full of corrections officers with fifty thousand dollars’ worth of crank shoved up your hoo-hah.

“Stop it, I’m not going to hurt you,” he roars, but the words send my panic skyrocketing, so much adrenaline flooding my system that I half wonder if a bag has split and I’m soaring on the first hit of methamphetamine.

“You want me to tell you a story? Should I tell you how much I want to shove my hard cock inside you, how much I want to hear the squeal as you come?”

“Do you want my mouth on you, my tongue lapping at your clit? Would you like me to suck those packets straight out of you?”

“You prefer praise or punishment?” I ask and watch her nipples stiffen under the thick fabric of her oh-so-sensible dress. “Are you going to be a good girl for me? Or am I going to have to spank you?”

“Fuck, you feel so good.” The words spill out of me and now I’m not sure if I’m talking to turn her on so I can retrieve the drugs or so she’ll get aroused enough to let me fuck her.

“That’s it. That’s all you have to do. Lie there like the good girl you are while my fingers stretch you out and explore inside you”—she gasps, a quick suction against my palm—“rubbing against you, and to prove you don’t want me inside you, just… don’t… come.”

But I’m so close, she’s so warm and tiny, squirming against me. Then her hips tilt, drawing me an inch further inside and I’m lost.

He winks at me, his blue eyes sparkling like an ocean lit with bioluminescence. “I’m out for a good time, not a long time.”

Where was he when I was in the height of my youth? Incubating in his dad’s balls.

“So you’re happy for me to put your dick in my mouth, but telling me our destination is a step too far.” His expression is shocked, a stance that tickles my funny bone. “Sorry. Wasn’t I meant to say that aloud?” “You’re not even meant to think it, grandma.”

“You ran,” he rumbles in a deeper voice than I’ve heard him use before. “You ran… and I caught you.”

But she murmurs, “I already took care of that.” “Did you?” I don’t even think about it, just assume she means a divorce. “I meant something more permanent.” A flood of warmth cascades through my body as she whispers, “So did I.”

“Have I told you how glad I am you abducted me?” “Pfft.” He gives a brief chuckle, then lifts me onto his shoes so he can walk us along the corridor towards our allocated cabin. “Abducted is such an inflammatory term. I borrowed your car for a few hours with you in it, then you wouldn’t leave me alone.”