Just a few words about Rolling Thunder

I just wanted to send a shout out to Juliet and Kimmy whose stories have recently been inspiring me and to my readers who, I hope, enjoy these stories

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Chapter 7 (Smut alert)


I walk the line of the disappointed
I celebrate when I'm in pain
My heart and mind can be disjointed
I built a bed in this hole I made
I recognize that I'm damaged
I sympathize that you are too
But I wanna breathe without feelin' so self-conscious
But it's hard when the world's starin' at you
 
(lyrics from “What are you Lookin’ For” by Sick Puppies)

just a note to say I know some of you don't like when I use a lot of French but a friend helped me out with some truly colourful and foul language that I think is just hot so google translator is great

I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling absolutely rested, like I could run a marathon right away, no stretching needed. Warm, rested and cradled in a mountain of pillows, I almost don’t want to open my eyes in case I’ve been dreaming about the luxurious bed in the beautifully furnished home that seems a lot like a palace and yet the strong, earthy aroma of coffee tickling my nose has me yawning and reaching full awareness.

“Oh good, you’re awake. Tea or coffee? I couldn’t decide.”

“Oh god, coffee please,” I grin, reaching for the steaming mug of hot inky goodness and holding it in both hands while sticking my nose right in the steam. It smells strong and rich, just the way I like it. I hear Max chuckle while he puts the tray down on end of the bed and picks up the delicate china tea-cup and makes a show of sticking his pinky out while he takes a sip. 

“So are you feeling better this morning?” he asks, reaching for a bear claw which he unabashedly munches on, crumbs falling down his t-shirt.  

“Yeah, I am, thanks,” I grin at him and am rewarded with a pleased, self satisfied smile that says he’s proud of being the man who came to my rescue. “And thanks for letting me stay,” I add, letting him pop a piece of the sugar and cinnamon encrusted dough into my mouth. 

“To be honest, I kinda liked having you here,” he says sweetly, brushing some stray sugar from the corner of my mouth. “And before you say it, I don’t say that to all the girls,” he added, his tropic breeze blue green gaze softening as it holds mine for a long moment before he leans in and presses his lips briefly to mine. 

I have a moment to enjoy the soft press of his lips before the scalding heat of the tea pouring out of his cup down my chest makes me drop my own coffee as I scramble out of the bed, screaming and running for the en suite. Ripping the t-shirt he’d put me in before putting me to bed, I reach for the tap but Max pushes me into the shower and cranks on the cold water.

At first the freezing cold spray is almost worst than the burning sensation heating my skin, but then I feel the solid warmth of Max behind me, and then it’s not so bad. Maneuvering me to the side, he angles the shower head to the side and away from me so that can just reach up and hold a wash cloth beneath the spray which he then presses to my red, scalded skin.

His touch is tender but the look in his eyes, the real, honest to god remorse and distress is even more poignant and after a few minutes of his careful ministrations the washcloth gets discarded in favor of the light brush of fingertips and the warm press of lips to chilled skin. When or how he turns the water to warm, I don’t know, but I’m not cold for long or at least the only part of me that remains cold is my back where it’s pressed against the tiles where his cock has me pinned while the rest of me is wrapped around him, holding on for dear life.

The sting of the burn is completely forgotten in the midst of the twining of tongues, fingers digging into hair and skin and urgent meeting of our bodies. I’ve heard about endorphins and their effect on pain, but I’ve never really understood it until now. With his cock buried deep inside of me, his teeth and lips on my neck, the coarseness of his unshaven cheek on my skin and the steam and heat of the shower has every nerve ending in my flickering like I’m tied to the stake and being burned alive, except that I like it. 

I like hearing the words whispered hoarsely in my ear in the language that I don’t understand as his thrusts become more erratic, harder, faster. I like the way his thick fingers dig into the soft flesh of my ass as he pulls me down over him, even though I’m sure I’ll be able to see the impressions of his hands on me for days. I like the sensation of his strong, straight teeth nipping at my bottom lip and the taste of sugar on his tongue. What I don’t like is that I can hear my mother’s voice in my head, telling me to fuck my sugar daddy good, wrap him around my finger so he’ll keep me.

Shutting my eyes tight and burying my face in the crook of his neck I do my best to dismiss her spectral presence, concentrating instead on the tightening of my muscles at the base of my spine and the pressure in my belly that tells me I’m close, so close. 



I want to be gentle. I mean to be until I dump scorching hot tea all over her and even then, my only intention was to help…until I get her out of the t-shirt she’d spent the night in and then all my good intentions go out the window. 

Now I can’t get enough of her mouth, of her skin, of the taste and feel of her. She’s like a magnet and I’m a paper clip, helpless to do anything but be dragged to her, to attach myself to her and I don’t want to let go. It’s like when you go into a fight out on the ice. If you’re going to fight, you drop your gloves and you go all in. You can’t half ass it. You have to hate the guy. 

This is like that. I can’t just fuck her. Even when I feel her entire body shudder, hear her whimpering in my ear and feel her body tighten around mine, I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going, keep having her make those sounds, keep feeling her body pressed to mine.

I’ve never believed all that lock and key shit. Even when Crosby told me when he met Tabby he just knew I couldn’t believe it. I thought maybe it was just him, because he didn’t have a lot of experience. Even after seeing the two of them so fucking loved up it makes me sick, I still didn’t believe that you could feel that much that fast. 

I think I could actually be fucking wrong. 

As I lower her to her feet and turn her to face the wall, spreading her legs with my foot so that I can slide into her tight wet centre, I suddenly get the whole key and lock thing. Long ago I lost count of the number of women I’ve been with but I don’t remember ever feeling like this; like I can’t get enough of her and like her body was made to fit mine. 

It’s kind of freaking me out. 

Even looking at her fingers spread out on the tiles, I can’t stop thinking about how they look when they’re wrapped around my cock or how they feel when they’re laced with mine. Wrapping her wet hair around my hand, I gently tug her head up until she turns to look at me over her shoulder and the look in her eyes undoes me, completely. 

“Sainte bénite!” My chest literally hurts as I watch her bite down on her bottom lip, tugging it into her mouth as her gaze slides up my chest until her eyes meet mine. 

“Déguidine,” she growls, having obviously picked up on one of my favorite sayings. I didn’t think I could get any harder, but I feel my cock swell as she gives me another one of those looks that seems to say that she could fucking eat me alive, and I slam it into her, making her gasp out loud. 

“Charrue,” I groan, pulling my hand back that’s been holding her hip and letting it drop down onto her ass, hard, leaving a livid red welt behind. 

“Is that the best you can do?” she purrs back at me, licking her lips as grinds her ass against me. 

“Christ de plote sale,” I growl back at her, giving her ass another hard smack and pulling back on her hair enough that I can tell that it’s just starting to hurt, but the look on her face doesn’t change. The challenge is still there and then she tightens her pussy muscles around my dick and all I see is stars. “Sacrament de calvaire woman! I can’t hold it.” 

“So don’t,” she grins, sliding one of her hands down the slick, wet tiles and then sliding it down her body and between her legs. I can feel the walls of her pussy clenching as she fingers her clit, and suddenly it’s like I can’t breathe. I’ve never, ever, been with any woman as uninhibited as she is. “C’mon Max, give it to me,” she says in that breathless way that tells me that she’s close again. As if I need to be told. I can feel those little waves building around my dick and I know as soon as she goes, I’ll go too. She looks me right in the eye, something most women I fuck never do, and clenches her teeth as she fights to hold out until I let go.

“No way,” I grunt, slapping her ass again, harder this time. “You first.” 

“Nuh uh,” she hisses, grinning at me around her clenched teeth. And then suddenly I’m standing there and she’s on her knees in front of me looking up at me with this impish look on her face as she continues to play with herself with one hand while she reaches for my dick with her other hand. “You first.” 

“Aw crisse! Susse ma graine,” I groan as she licks her way up the underside of my cock, her tongue sweeping over my head, stealing the breath from my lungs all at once. “T’envalles-tu ma cochonne?” I groan, wrapping her hair around my hand and wrist again so that I get an unimpeded view of her lips wrapped around my cock as I fuck her mouth, slowly, slipping my dick almost entirely out of her sweet lips before pumping in far enough to make her gag. It’s fucking heaven and the entire time she’s looking up at me, grinning around my cock like she can’t get enough. “Tabernac, suce ma queue ‘tite pute!”

I can’t last. I want to. I want her hand wrapped around the base of my dick and the head of my cock bouncing off of her tonsils forever, but I can’t last much longer. Not the way she’s sucking my knob like a fucking pro. Especially not when she slides her hand down until she cups my balls and gives them a firm but gentle twist before she takes the rest of my shaft as far as it will go, sucking hard. 

That’s when I see nothing but stars and my knees get weak and all I can feel is balls exploding, sending what feels like a fucking litre of jizz down her throat. She gobbles it all, and licks my dick clean like she doesn’t want to miss a fucking drop. 

“I think I’m in fucking love,” I mutter, putting my hand out to brace myself against the wall, not trusting my legs to hold me up. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Becky smiles seductively as she runs her thumb along the edge of her mouth, before sticking the digit between her lips and sucking it clean, her seductive gaze holding mine the entire time. 

“No,” I admit as I give her a hand up, even though it scares me to do it. “It’s not usually my world getting rocked,” I add honestly, surprising myself a little. Reaching behind her, I turn off the water and then I pull her into my chest, wrap her up in my arms and find myself searching her face, trying to figure out what it is about her, besides how god damn cute she is, that has me so fucked up. 

“You’d better watch yourself Maxie boy,” she whispers, still giving me that seductive half smile that makes me wish she hadn’t just drained me dry, “you’ll have a hard time getting rid of me if you keep giving out the compliments like candy.”

“Not sure I can let you leave,” I reply, giving into the siren song of her lips, covering her mouth with mine. 



“Can’t sleep?” I turn to see Becky leaning on the railing of Max’s back deck, staring up at the sky, dressed in nothing more than a thin black satin robe that leaves most of her legs bare, cinched at the waist. 

“I’ve got some issues with the mid day nap thing,” I reply, leaving out the part about how I used to sleep like the dead, until recently. I watch her run her fingers through her long dark hair, watch it spill down her back and my hands itch to gather those soft curls in my hand, to feel how soft they are, to bury my face in the silken strands and lose myself in her sweet scent. Instead I sit on my back step, forcing my gaze back to my concrete patio. 

“What happens when the season ends?” I glance back up to see her still staring up at the sky but I can tell by the troubled expression on her face that it isn’t fluffy white clouds that she’s looking at. “Do you go back to Montreal?” 

“Me? Or me and Max?” I ask, knowing that she’s asking about him, that I don’t even enter into her thoughts. The slightest hint of a smile plays at the corner of her full mouth and then she turns and leans on the railing, making the robe gape around her cleavage. 

“Max…,” she shrugs and sighs, a bittersweet sound. “He goes back to where you guys are from, doesn’t he?” 

We do, yeah,” I tell her, watching resignation turn her Mona Lisa smile into something cheerless, disappointment drawing the colour from her face. “Not right away, this year anyway,” I add, feeling like I have to do something to cheer her up, to take the edge off of the distress that’s clear in the way she’s gnawing at the corner of her bottom lip, the way that Sid does when he’s thinking. “Sid…you haven’t really met him but uh…most of us are going to his place. He’s planning to get married this summer.” 

“I think Max told me,” she sighs again and it makes me grind my teeth. Why hasn’t he asked her to go? Can’t he see what it’s doing to her thinking of him leaving?

“We’re not out yet,” I remind her, and she nods mutely. “I mean…I don’t think we’re going all the way this year,” I admit, running my hand through my hair, slicking it back. I’d never admit it to the rest of the boys, but none of us are playing as well as we did last year. 

“He’s not playing well though, is he?” she asks, looking straight at me, like she’s daring me to lie. I don’t. I nod and she nods in return, as if she didn’t really need me to confirm what she already knows. “Is it my fault…do you think? I mean, I know he just came back from injury and….” I shake my head and that brings back that half smile of hers’. 

“It’s hard to come back from injury,” I explain, still feeling like I have to do something to alleviate her mood. “He isn’t up to speed yet.” 

“Can he get traded?” My hands curl into fist and I make a mental note to ask one of the Habs players to put him into the boards, preferably head first, for me. 

“This season, no,” I tell her, getting to my feet and making my way over to where the fence between our houses so that I’m closer to her. “You should really be talking to him about this stuff.” She nods, but wrings her hands like the idea of talking to Max is something she doesn’t want to do which just brings back images of the two of them dashing into his place, mostly naked. It’s not an image I want to dwell on. 

“I don’t want to be that girl, that clingy girl that he has to worry about,” she sighs, resting her chin on the back of her hand and crossing one foot over the other. 

“You don’t seem like that girl,” I offer and she gives me a sardonic sort of smile. 

“You don’t know anything about me.” 

“I could,” I blurt out, my mouth engaging before my brain can edit my thoughts. Her smile actually grows, much to my surprise, and she straightens, looking down at me like she’s actually contemplating the implied offer. 

“I guess if I’m going to be living here, even for a little while, I should get to know Max’s friends,” she says finally, and then stifles a yawn behind her hand. “I’m gonna need some new clothes, considering I left without most of them. Wanna go shopping tomorrow? I mean, can you?” 

“I’d love to.”

5 comments:

  1. Hot Damn! I'm putting in a bigger shower tomorrow! lol

    great update!

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  2. I love the fact that she still thinks Kris is gay, i feel bad for the guy, but not bad enough to hope he and Becky get together, I think that her and max are practically made for each other and i' m really hoping this isn't one of those team mate stealing another team mates girls. Let Kris have the crush or whatever but please let Becky and max stay together in the end

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  3. I'm with anonymous I think it's hilarious that she still thinks he's not straight. I mean the guy is practically drooling over her. I really like her and Max though please don't split them up. He's seems to really care a lot about her.

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  4. Great update. Really REally Really Hot!!! I feel bad for Becks

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  5. "Or if you just want to have phone sex with Kris or Max..." bahahahahahaha. You are an evil genius.

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