Chapter One

 

She giggled first. Her body trembled from the pleasure.

Then the clattering sound of the table beneath her, bodies banging, cries, exuberant cries smacking the air - as if everything sane vanished and the whole fucking world had gone awry.

"Shush! You're making too much noise!"

But her whisper hardly fazed him.

He grunted again, thrusting one more time into the warm, succulent furrow between Randi Savoy's sweating thighs. Poised over Mike Rushton's dining room table, Justin pressed in behind his girlfriend, pants and jockeys down to his ankles, his hands clutching her round pink ass cheeks and squeezing without regard to how much it hurt her. By then, she didn't register anything but the raw pleasure of the moment in her grasping center.

"Yeah, baby!" he cried for the umpteenth time, as his cock pistoned faster still inside her velvety home.

The pair hardly noticed the headlights flash across the dining room window...

"Ooo, yeah, baby..." and on and on and on he spoke, as he crescendoed toward his climax.

Nor did they hear the sound of the truck as it came to a halt and the engine died...

She hummed beneath the boy, fanny swaying, feeling the fullness of the inner massage till she was dancing on a delicate high, teetering on the edge, her body ready to spring free of its last inhibitions. Nothing mattered but the banging now, the massage, the way her clitoris bloomed into a powerful, sensitive bud.

"Oh-God-Yes!" she was already whimpering, her voice earthy and mellow, but still girlish. She clung to the table, bearing down against the fleshy impaler, shivering from the inside out. The wild-eyed screaming was about to begin.

"What the fuck!"

The sharp, crackling voice that knocked her from the moment did not belong to Justin.

Randi's body seized up tight, hoping that it was all in her imagination. Meantime, Justin froze inside her with his cock wilting like a plucked flower, before it slid from the furrow with a juicy pop.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" Mike Rushton roared.

Slightly tipsy, Justin turned to the intruder, teetering to keep his balance, while gloating, his shit-eating grin a mile wide. "Hey man, I jus fuckin' my girlfriend."

"Oh, please, Justin, no!" Randi gasped. Humiliated, face beaming red, she remained glued with sweat to the top of the table.

Mike pushed the boy at the shoulder a little harder than he planned. "Out!" was all he said to get him running toward the door.

A little fear taking over now, the boy scrambled back into his pants, stumbling as he moved. "Hey, I'll see you tomorrow!" he called, ever-so-cheerfully to Randi as he slipped into the night.

Randi was too scared to say a word, to open her mouth, to move a muscle. Her naked ass hung out vulnerably, colored a resplendent shade of white, as a streak of moonlight flickered through the curtains against the naked flesh.

Mike saw it all-handsome Mike, the guy next door, the hunky pilot who wore blue jeans and leather with exhilarating grace, who trimmed his hedges with a sexy day's growth of beard and smiled with a winsome sweetness that made her belly clench up tight. At that moment, he was staring at the moist expanse of her intimate flesh, while she shivered against the table and wondered how in the hell she was going to get out of this embarrassing mess.

"You little brat!" he accused, as he pulled her up by the nape of her neck. At least she was still wearing a tank-top that sufficiently covered her torso. Although with every breath, her chest heaved dramatically. This, of course, called attention to her nipples, which were poking through her cotton shirt, inviting his response.

The two stood close enough that she could smell his breath, his aftershave, the leather of his jacket and the hint of sweat on his warm skin. The aroma was enough to make her belly tingle with a familiar but verboten longing-something deeper and more verboten than she ever felt with Justin, or any other guy for that matter. Their close proximity, just inches apart, was enough to make the anxious schoolgirl crush on Mike Rushton come back to her a thousand fold. Her lips were parched and dry. Oh, yes! He was close enough to kiss. And close enough to feel his anger like a turbulent wave washing through her.

Oh, please, dear God...she silently prayed, as he still held her by the neck.

Randi Savoy was close enough to kiss-and, for a moment, it was the first thing in Mike's mind before his better judgment won the battle. Right then, he should have just pushed her off as he'd done with the boy and ordered her home. He could talk to her in the morning when he was calm. Instead, he dropped his hand and gave her ass a sharp smack.