Page 11 of Acid

“Do you think ejaculation sounds like a cartoon gun?” I ask, holding back my laughter.

She frowns. “What? No. That was like, you know, like an eruption sound,” she defends. “Pew-pew,” she adds, looking at me like I’m the dumb one.

“Fuck Rhea, pew-pew is the sound of a gun.” I laugh.

She frowns and shakes her head no. “No, that’s bang-bang,” she argues.

Both Scar and I burst out laughing. “Fucking hell,” I laugh, holding my stomach.

Rhea folds her arms across her chest and huffs, annoyed. “I’m glad I’m such a joke.”

Scar grabs her by her shoulders again and pulls her into his side. “We are only joking, darlin’. Now, I can assure you that my dick doesn’t go pew-pew, because it’s far too big to make such a tiny sound. I can’t speak for Acid’s though,” Scar says, winking at her.

“Fuck off.” I laugh.

“I have to say darlin’, if you’re asking what the mess was, then you’ve had shit sex,” Scar points out.

Rhea’s cheeks turn a shade of pink. She always gets rosy cheeks when someone either compliments her, or in this case, talks about sex. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. Not really had the of best times, and if you must know, I think sex is overrated.”

I look at Scar and shake my head. I know what she’s been through, but I thought she may have at least had some good times with Olly’s father.

Scar hugs her close to his side and kisses the top of her head. “Jesus, that’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard. There should be a like a fundraiser page for you.” He sighs. “Never fear sweetheart, no more shitty dicks for you. From here on out, we will make sure that only men that know what they are doing are allowed to come near you,” he promises.

Rhea looks at me with a mixture of confusion, amusement, and fear. I smile and shake my head. “Sometimes it’s just best to nod and smile at Scar,” I mock.

Rhea laughs. “Right, well this has killed some time, and it’s er, been an experience. I best get back and make sure Oliver isn’t trying to feed the kids chocolate,” she states before walking off.

Scar watches her leave before letting out a low whistle. “Man, that woman has an ass made by gods,” he groans.

“Brother,” I warn.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. I’m just being appreciative of her fucking stunning attributes.”

“She’s a friend man, and she’s had a really shitty time. She deserves better than what you can offer her,” I point out.

“Fuck, don’t fucking mince your words, will you?” he mocks, acting hurt. “Nah, I get it, brother. Unless she comes to me asking for one night of fucking out of this world sex, then I promise to behave,” he states. “Right, on that note, I’m off to Tina’s leaving party.”

“Tina works at the sex clinic, doesn’t she?” I ask with a big shit eating grin.

“Yes, she does, and I’m not ashamed to admit that. The staff and I will be sad to see her go. She has the delicate touch,” he adds before walking off.

I laugh to myself. “Weird fucker,” I mutter as I slide back under the car.

It’s not long before I hear a set of footsteps enter the garage. “Just a minute,” I call out.

I slide out from under the car, and the first thing I see is a pair of black high heeled stiletto shoes. My eyes trail all the way up a pair of long legs until they land on a pair of blue eyes. I get to my feet and wipe my hands.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

She looks around, seemingly anxious. She isn’t from round here. The only cars or bikes we get in here are from the locals and people that know us and the club. She’s dressed in a formaldress, carrying a designer handbag. She’s clutching it for her life, like she’s about to get mugged at any moment.

“Er, I’m sorry. My car has broken down. Just down the road, actually. I wondered if you are able to take a look at it?” she asks in a delicately well-spoken voice.

I nod and gesture for her to show me. I follow behind her, watching her toned ass in her tight skirt. I pull out a cigarette and light it. I catch her looking out of the corner of her eye, noting the way her lip curls in disgust. I give her a wink and a smile. This is going to be fun.

“So, where are you from?” I ask.

She hesitates a little. “Fernmill,” she answers.

---