Happy Endings
by
JK Bradley
Published by JK Bradley at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 JK Bradley
Discover other works by JK Bradley at
http://www.TheBradleyChronicles.wordpress.com
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Happy Endings
Travis Stimson, sitting in a clean car on the commuter rail and staring out into the looming darkness, was heading back to a place he hadn't ventured to in sometime now, not for any reason. He had not been to D.C. in nearly fifteen years, not since that night after graduation when he, Jacob Tilles and George Berry blazed into town, passing a bottle of Wild Turkey, on the hunt for some weed and something to do, a night he had tried so hard to forget, a night which now came back to memory, full on hard. He rested his head against the cool glass and surrendered to the memory.
Jacob was driving with George in shotgun, Travis lounged in the back of the '69 Impala holding a can of coca-cola to chase down the bourbon. The windows were down exchanging sticky heat for the husky throat of Tracey Chapman as the boys slowly cruised up 14th Street towards Logan Circle.
A woman swayed to some internal music as she waited beneath a bus stop sign on which someone had scrawled 'Suck You' in black marker. She seemed attractive in this light, almost but not quite pretty even, thin, probably only a few years older than them, and showing legs that seemed to stretch up to her neck. She waved them to the curb and Jacob obliged.
“I'll give you all a reason to stay here, sugar.” She approached the car and leaned against the open passenger window pursing her lips at each of them.
George asked, “How you doin', girl?” Jacob screwed the music down a few notches.
“I'm fine ass fine.” She stood back up and casually spun around, one hand on her gyrating hips. She pushed back through the opening and said, “Do you like it?”
“Hell yeah,” answered Jacob. Travis brought the bourbon to his lips and took a nip.
“Aw, you boys are lookin' to party.” She had a look of savage hunger in her eyes, the sort of twinkle a homeless man would show as you handed him the half-eaten leftovers of a juicy burger. “I could sure use a little partyin'. Take me for a ride and I can party enough for all three of ya'.” She was rocking in and out of the window now. Her perfume came in pungent waves of spice and coconut.
“You got any weed?” asked Jacob.
“Not on me, but we can get us some. I know where.” She was licking her lips. “Invite me in already.” Jacob nodded to George who opened the door and leaned his seat forward. She climbed in behind as Travis slid over, the bourbon squeezed between his thighs. She settled in the back, her knees against Travis' legs. “Just, make a right and go around the circle, we can get some there.” She motioned with her hand to the next street up, her long red nails flashed in the sodium-vapor street lighting. Jacob started to slowly roll forward.
“Hiya, sugar.” Her eyes were locked on Travis and her hands had reached for the bottle of Wild Turkey. She gently slipped her left hand around the base and stroked the neck of the bottle with her right, running her middle finger up to the top and swirling around the open neck. She put her finger into her mouth and sucked, then pulled her finger out and said, “Mind if I have a taste?” George bent his neck around to improve his angle, Jacob voyeured through the rear-view mirror.
Travis relaxed his thigh-hold on the bottle and in a tone as macho as he could muster said, “Be my guest.” As she lifted the bottle she pressed it against his growing cock, then raised it up to her painted lips and drank deeply. A walnut slid up and down in her throat and she uttered a growling moan. Her fingers seemed graceful yet long. She gave him a toothy smile then shared it with the others, her glassy eyes large and dark.
“You boys like to watch, do ya?” She let her hand fall upon Travis' lap. “How about we start this party with a happy ending?” She was rubbing his growing bulge and, with what seemed like very strong hands, she started the pull at the waist band of his shorts. That's when Travis began to think of Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf's big teeth. Her hands were no longer gentle as she was pawing at his hardened cock. Travis tried to pull away and push at her shoulders at the same time but only ended up in causing himself to pop fully exposed and somehow managed to push her head down into his lap. Her mouth was hot and wet and felt glorious and his hands which were on her shoulders moved toward her neck and the image of Little Red Riding Hood was actually arousing him more and he started to cum just as his hands felt stubble on the angle of her jawline. Her very strong jaw line. Travis' eyes which had begun to close now snapped wide open.
“What the fuck?” Travis dug his fingers into her hair and gave a strong upward jerk, yanking one of her earrings clear through the meaty lobe. Those larger than expected hands which were rubbing his balls now squeezed and gripped and Travis felt a searing jolt of pain. Jacob had already pulled the car to a halt and George, who had been rubbing her back and ass and had been planning on slipping into the back seat as well, was suddenly thrown terribly off guard.
“You liked it, Sugar. You. Liked. It.” Their noses were almost touching and Travis was now aware that this person who's breath smelled of cigarettes and bourbon and cum also held his cock and balls with very capable hands. And was squeezing. George had the door open and seat forward in a blink, and was moving in to rip the bitch out of the car.
“Now, before you go getting the wrong idea and loosing your 'happy ending' thoughts, you go ahead and tell those other boys to settle the fuck down.” An extra tight squeeze brought a girlie whimper from Travis.
“Back off.” Travis spoke through gritted teeth with unconcealed pain, yet tinged with excitement. She licked his upper lip, trailing her tongue up over his nose.
“Make room sweetheart, 'cause I'm coming out...I want the world to know...no, I won't let you go...” The cross-dressing prostitute was now singing, his range more of a tenor. “And I want twenty bucks. I've earned it.” The squeeze came again and a ring was definitely gouging the underside of Travis' cock.
“Give her the money,” Travis pleaded with his friends, taut cords popped up and down his neck.
With one hand still firmly locked around Travis' balls, the prostitute yanked the two tens out of Jacob's grip and then leaped backwards out of the open passenger door, nearly knocking George over.
“Now boys, no need to thank me. It was my pleasure. Mmhmm. And, Travis, you hear me son? You enjoyed it.” Then, in a much deeper and more natural tone, “You love it.” George made a move toward the prostitute like he was going to throw a punch and she gave a fake scream before putting up her own fists in a boxer's taunt, giving a little head juke followed by some fancy foot work. Her bangles jingle-jangled and she cackled, “Come again Travis. Come back when you want another happy ending.”