Rock Bottom Girl

by Lucy Score

“I have a better idea than talking,” Jake said softly.

I wanted to be wanted. Even just for one night. And especially by him.

“Are you kidding me right now, Mars?” he asked, his teeth nipping at my earlobe. “Do you want to wait until we get back to your place when I’ve had a whole car ride to come to my senses?”

“No. No, I do not,”

“Hands and knees.” That would put my ass in his face. I didn’t usually like to shove my very round, rather full posterior in men’s faces. “Why?”

“I gotta do something, baby. I’ve been dying to.”

“Did you just bite me?” I yelped. His teeth were definitely on my ass.

“Baby, you’re so close,” he groaned. “Don’t you fucking come.” “What?”

“I need to see you. I need to be in you when you come.”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, Marley?”

“If it’s half of what you’re doing to me, I’d say you’re in deep shit,” I guessed.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking about your tits since I dumped you in the locker room shower.”

“Just so you know. Once isn’t enough. I’m just getting started, pretty girl.” “Less talking. More orgasms,”

But wanting Jake inside me. That was as clear of a yes as I ever had.

So this was what Heaven felt like. I was buried inside Marley Cicero and trying my hardest not to explode.

“Baby, don’t take this the wrong way. But if you say another word or move a muscle, this is going to be really embarrassing for me and really disappointing for you.”

“Fuck. Mars. You feel amazing,” I said, sliding back into her. “Jake, I think I’m going to…”

“Yeah, baby. Let me have it. Give it up for me,”

I wished I had months to make love to her. Years to explore her body until there were no secrets left.

“Come with me,” she breathed. Women have no idea the turn-on and stress statements like that bring. First of all, it’s really fucking hard to time your own orgasm with a woman. But when you do it right, hot sex turns into a spiritual experience. And for Marley, I was willing to minister or preach or whatever the fuck the right metaphor was.

I grunted my agreement. My pants were still on. My cock was still in her. And we’d just fucked in a field like a couple of stupid teenagers. I was beyond happy. Beyond satisfied. Beyond wanting to do it again. “Wow,” she said again. My lips curved. “Am I crushing you?”

“You’re holding me on the surface of the planet because what we just did destroyed gravity,” she said.

“Do you have any idea what you...

“Words are just bubbling up like lava. I have no control. Lipstick. Penalty kick. Casserole,”

“Do you usually have this effect on women?” she asked, giving a little laugh.

“Are you still hard?” she asked on a gasp. “Getting there. Like I said, Mars. I don’t think one time is gonna be

enough. And I really hope you’re cool with that.”

“Baby, I need more. I want you in a bed. My bed.”

I so wasn’t done with her. With us. “If I help you find your pants, will you come home with me?”

“I can’t believe we had sex in a back seat in a field,” Marley scoffed as she worked her way back into her jeans. “I’ll make it up to you on a nice king-size,” I promised.

“Oh, are you talking about your dick?” she teased. Well, fuck me sideways. I was in love.

I did the only thing I could do. I tumbled off my bachelor pedestal face-first, hitting every step on the way down. This was going to be a freaking disaster.

From past experience, I knew it was dangerous to wave my wiener around when my dog was stirred up.

“You drive me fucking crazy, Marley,”

“I want to go slower this time,” he said.

“But?” “But I don’t think I can this time. Maybe the third or the seventeenth time.”

“You were made for me, baby,” he gritted out. “Don’t make this weird.” I gasped for breath. “You don’t make this weird,” he countered. “Stop talking.”

“I want to have you every way possible,” he said, pushing me onto my belly.

It felt like…poetry. The perfection of my body welcoming his, embracing his. I was better because he was inside me. And the way he moved in and out of me. It was like worship, obsession.

“I love this, baby. You’re perfect,”

“Touch yourself,” he ordered on a rasp. “Touch yourself for me, Mars.”

“I feel you, baby. Let it happen,” Jake breathed.

“Why are you leaving, Marley?” Jake asked.

“Because I don’t belong here. I want something bigger. Something more than Culpepper can offer.”

“Do you like teaching? Coaching?” he asked.

“Yeah. I do,” I decided. “But it’s not the plan.”

“And there’s no way this could, I don’t know, end up being what you want?”

“Trust me. Culpepper and I are better

off apart,” I told him. “Why do you ask?”