Sneak Peek: Rumpled Between the Sheets

I’m roaring on NaNo. My progress is to the right in the side bar. My project this year is the next two in my Beowulf Hollow series for Evernight’s Naughty Fairytales line. So, I give to you the ugly rawness that is NaNo writing. Here’s the first 1667 words or so of my rough draft. And boy to do I mean rough!

I made this mock cover for the fun of it.

I made this mock cover for the fun of it.

Fall 1976

Mary flipped the page of the script in her hands. “I’m not going to do that.” She jammed her finger in the middle of the page.

“Come on, baby. You do it with me all the time.” Paul nuzzled the back her neck, his arms worming their way around her waist.

“You’re my boyfriend, Paul. I’m not going to pretend fuck someone on stage.” She tossed the script down. “I thought you said this connection had some small parts on Broadway, not this back alley bullshit.”

“Yeah, well, you’d get paid more to do this. All those vets coming home from Vietnam are shelling out some calms to see this.” His hands invaded the bottom of her sweater.

“Why don’t I just go to one of those sleazy strip joints if that’s all you want to see out of me.” She wrenched out of his grasp. “I got to get ready for work.” She snatched up her apron and put it on. If she wanted to dress like this for the rest of her life, she could have stayed in Beowulf Hollow. If Broadway wanted to base a play on the glamorous lifestyle of a downtown waitress from a small Pennsylvania town, she’d corner the market.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He picked up the script and set it on the small kitchen table. “Just look at it later. If it’s not your style, cool. I’ll see if Gretchen wants it.”

Mary whipped around. “Gretchen? Really?” She furiously tied the apron strings together.

“Oh no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Paul held his hands up in surrender. “All I’m saying is you need to relax. There’s nudity on Broadway too.”

“Yeah, back stage when you’re getting dressed. I got to go.”

Paul caught her as she tried to pass. “Don’t go away all mad, baby.” His breath tickled her ear.

She couldn’t pull free of his grasp. She didn’t want to. “We’re barely making it here. I need something big.”

“You’ll get it but you need your street cred, baby. Relax. Don’t leave yet.” Again his lips caressed her neck. “I fucking love you in this outfit.”

She craned her neck to allow him better access. He suckled, the joyful pain of him leaving his mark exciting her. The scarf she wore would hide it all. His fingers inched up the knee-length skirt, pulling the fabric to her hips.

“Oh baby, no panties again. Fuck.” His digits danced at her apex and slowly she spread her legs. Paul took her invitation and rubbed her clit before sliding a finger along her slit. “I love your sweet little pussy.”

Her hands pressed on the counter. A moan hissed through her clenched teeth. His hands were magic, sparking her desire. Two fingers pressed against her opening before plunging in. The wetness grew with each stroke and he pulled out.

“Taste the sweetness, baby.” He offered the plundering fingers for her and Mary took them in her mouth. Each smack off her lips caused Paul to grind against her ass. “Oh fuck yeah.” He grabbed her by the hips and spun her around. His lips covered hers feverishly, his tongue parting the way. Breaking away, he lifted her on the counter and shoved her to her back. Her head hung off the side and she held on for dear life as he spread her legs wide. His tongue lavished her clit and he shoved three fingers into her, the fourth one teasing her back entrance. Her gasps came in short huffs. She’d never let him fuck her in the ass, though his want had been apparent every time they messed around. His hand moved with speed and she cried out as she came. His heat faded away and she heard the sound of his zipper undoing.

Sliding off the counter, she sank to her knees. She knew what Paul liked as much as he did her. His lucid eyes matched his grin. She licked the mushroom head of his fat cock before taking the shaft in her mouth. Her first love and first lover, Paul had opened her up to sexual encounters. Barring anal, she’d do anything if he asked. Sucking his cock was a joy she’d never thought she’d be into but the sticky sweetness had almost become an addiction. Lusting for a taste, she worked the bottom of his shaft with fervor.

“Oh no, baby, I’m going to fuck you.” He dragged her up and pressed her belly to the kitchen table. “Bad girl.” He smacked her bottom before rubbing the spot. One more smack and he drove his dick in. With his hands on her shoulders, he fucked her hard and fast. Again she cried out, imploring him to go faster. His grunts joined her.

He pulled out with a groan. “Suck my dick, baby.”

She scrambled to the floor, eager. The smell of his musk coupled with the taste of her juices spurred her to engulf his whole length. In that one moment, he unleashed his cum. She swallowed as he stroked her hair.

“Fuck, baby. You can do whatever you want.” He helped her up, fixing her skirt. “See?”

She slapped his cheek affectionately. “I only do that for you.”

“You’re too good for me.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll give the script back. No Gretchen. Okay?”

She headed for the bathroom. “Do what you want, Paul. If it’s a good fit for her.” She couldn’t go to work smelling like a porn shop back room.

“Are you sure?” He called out.

“Yep.” She gargled with mouthwash and spit. After a good wash of her private parts, she slipped on a pair of panties. Paul enjoyed a good fuck before she headed to work so she tempted him by forgetting her underwear. Not that it took much to entice him to the bed … or counter … or table. Or just about any place in their small apartment.

When she returned to the living room, Paul still had his pants around his ankles. His cock wavered between half-mast and full erection. “I really don’t have time for another round, Paul.” She hopped over and pinched his cheek, giving his cock a tug. “You’re on your own.”

“No problem.” He grinned. I got the latest issue of Playboy to get all sticky.”

Pam Rawlings graced the cover of the November 1972 cover. Paul’s first purchase when he turned eighteen. Before they became lovers, she caught him whacking off with his cock in one hand and the centerfold in the other. She’d met him during a small time production in a smaller theatre in the Bronx. When the show closed down, he helped her get a job at a local diner. He worked in the back. Three months later, they got a small apartment together and he lost his job soon after. With one last kiss, she headed out the door.

Life hadn’t turned out like she expected. While Paul managed to get money to pay his half of the bills, neither of them were getting ahead. The diner, while a good revenue generator, brought in all kinds of low lives. Busty, she started wearing sweaters to hide her cleavage. The work uniform was cut too low and while tips poured in, drunks deciding she was a few melons on a fruit cart made work almost unbearable. Her boss did nothing when she complained, citing she shouldn’t ‘flaunt her tits’ if she didn’t want them to be appreciated. In that vein, she chose the sweater and he never said a word about her covering the uniform.

She crossed the street only to slow when she noticed the lights weren’t on in the diner. Several of her coworkers lingered outside, huddled by the entrance.

“What’s going on?” She stood on her tiptoes to peer at what they were looking at.

“We’ve been closed down.” Heather, another waitress, pointed to the sign. Her bubble gum made a loud snap. “The health department.”

Mary shoved her way through, her heart tightening in her chest. She needed this job. She had nothing else beyond a script for a sex show disguised as a legitimate play. In black and white, she read the long list of violations Heather jabbed a finger at. Nerves rattled, she rushed away from the diner. Breath wouldn’t come to her lungs. If it wasn’t for Paul, she wouldn’t have gotten that job in the first place. She didn’t want to start over or go home to Beowulf Hollow a failure.

Years bled from her eyes and she wiped them away. How would she explain to Paul that she might not be able to pay her part in the bills. Up the two flights of steps she paused at the door to her apartment. She had to pull it together before walking in. Laughter leached out of the big gap under the story. The key shook in her hand, poised near the lock. Giggling turned in heated moans.

“I love your sweet little pussy.”

She couldn’t mistake Paul’s voice and the same words he murmured to her earlier. She shoved the key in and shouldered the door open. Across the room, bent over the kitchen table, was Gretchen. Paul was balls deep, their flesh smacking hard together.

Mary dropped the keys, gasping.

Paul jerked his head around, never slowing his thrusts on Gretchen. “Oh, shit.” He slapped his current fuck toy as he withdrew. She eagerly dropped to the floor, pausing when she saw Mary.

“Oh hey, girlfriend!” She smiled before sucking the offered cock before her.

“Man.” He pumped his cock. “I’m helping her with an audition. Honest.”

Mary laughed to keep from crying. Gretchen would be stupid enough to fall for that line. The casual way Paul continued to fornicate right in front of her angered her. Shame for not seeing what kind of man he was heated her cheeks. All the scripts scattered around the house. All the girls he brought over to read with her who couldn’t string two sentences together. Nothing more than private auditions for his poontang express.


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