Page 314 of S is for SEX

“Yeah, baby?” I asked as I continued to pound away.

“I’m going to…” she opened her eyes and hesitated.

“Do it,” I shouted.

“Cum,” she sighed as she closed her eyes.

Her pussy began to go through a series of contractions as I slowly fucked her deeply and methodically. Satisfied I was finding my happy place and about to cum myself, I closed my eyes and maintained my rhythm as my cock began to swell.

Oh fuck yes, this feels so fucking good.

A voice from outside the car window startled me and caused Liv to scream. Having someone standing outside the car in this particular location wasn’t something I never would have expected, but I certainly wasn’t ready for it.

“Get out of the car,” a deep voice demanded in a stern tone.

“Oh my God, he’s got a gun,” Liv screamed.

I glanced over my left shoulder to find a man outside the driver’s side of the car, nervously holding a pistol as he glanced around the empty parking lot.

“I said get out of the car,” he demanded.

“Let me get dressed,” I responded.

I’ve always believed I was probably as big, mean and naturally tough as any man who ever existed. There was absolutely nothing, however, about a guy holding a pistol and making demands that made me comfortable challenging him. A gun is one thing that can make even the toughest of men become weak.

And dead.

Slowly, I reached to the passenger seat and grabbed my shorts. Maintaining eye contact with the gun, I began to get dressed. As I pulled the shorts over my feet, he shouted into the car window again.

“Hurry the fuck up,” he barked as he leaned into the window.

His voice cracked as he spoke. He was either wacked out on dope, extremely nervous, or both. As I buttoned my shorts I realized Liv was crying and trying to talk. I had heard absolutely nothing she said.

“Baby, get dressed and stay right here,” I said as I handed her shorts, bra and shirt to her which were draped over the back of the seat.

“Let me climb over the seat,” I said softly as I started to lift my arm over the seat.

As I climbed over the seat and into the front of the car, my eyes stayed fixed on him. Once in the front, I sat up in the seat and watched as he backed away from the car a few steps. Quietly, I pulled the keys from the ignition and pushed them deeply into my pocket.

“You big son-of-a-bitch, move slow. Get out, and tell her to get out too, I’m taking this car,” he said as he stepped back away from the car, his pistol shaking as he spoke.

I’ve got some news for ya, buddy. You ain’t takin’ this car anywhere.

“I’m going to open the door,” I said softly as I opened the car door slowly.

I stepped out of the car and stood. I was at least six inches taller and a good eighty pounds heavier than he was. Dressed in jeans, sneakers, a canvas jacket, and a NY Yankees baseball hat, he clearly wasn’t a native Texan. No one here liked the Yankees. If they did, they’d damned sure never admit it.

“Tell your bitch to get out,” he demanded as he waved the gun toward the car.

“Mike? Oh my God. Mike?” Liv sobbed from the rear seat.

He had the gun and he was clearly the one making the rules. Currently, he stood six or eight feet in front of me, too far away for me to reach. As accurately as I could guess, if I were to step in his direction, he would shoot me. After that, nothing would matter. Not one thing within me thought I could win a gun fight when I didn’t even have one, but this guy was not going to do two things with my knowledge or assistance.

Take my car.

Or.

Harm the girl.

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