Father's Keeper by Parker Ford (classic fiction .TXT) 📗

of shit down a blacktop highway. Hours of listening to Carl ponder guitarriffs and how much pot any given band smoked. Hours of picking at the still rawwound of my mother’s abandonment. The confused feelings of relief and peace ofbeing home to the restless crawl of small town stifle already settling over me.I was a wounded nerve, a throbbing tooth, a fucking breathing torturedoxymoron. I wanted the swirling and twirling and tilting in my head to juststop for a moment.

“I can do that,” Carl said.

“Good. Do that, Carl. Do it really,really well.” I spread my legs for him, now bare and flushed. I felt my sex,blushing and tender, exposed to him. Carl -- in true Carl fashion --dove inhead first. Pushing his hot lips and slick tongue to my slit, my ass, my clit.He ate me like I was a mirage that might disappear with his next inhalation.

“I will, girly. I will do it really,really well.” His long, cool fingers pressed into me. The talented digits thatplucked at and cajoled guitar strings played me like a fine instrument andunder his fingers and his lips and his tongue, I shook and shuddered out anorgasm for him. “One,” said Carl.

He liked to keep track.

That distant, furtive sound again andI wondered about the ancient oak outside my bedroom window. It’s branchesspanned the whole left side of the house and it seemed to be welcoming me homebut scratching and licking at the siding.

Carl sank into me one inch at a time.His hand holding my lush hips flat to my pink bedding. He watched his cockdrive into me, watched the fat pink petals of my cunt close over him and takehim in. “You’re so pretty, Jen,” he said with bald faced honesty and I nearlycried.

I nodded at him and touched hisscraggly stubble. His strawberry blond hair shining like an angel in the subtleoverhead light. I pushed up to meet him, feeling the rush of his cock over myG-spot. I tilted just a bit more until he nudged and bumped and stroked it witheach graceless but lusty thrust. “Good,” I said softly.

“You make me crazy, Jen,” he said,kissing me. “Your body. It’s sick. It makes me nuts. I can’t even get a goodrhythm with you,” he laughed. “I get too flustered.”

I pulled at him with my fingers,yanked his hot skin close to mine as if he could smother the crawling, worried,anxious feeling in my chest. “It’s a good non-rhythm,” I said, hooking myankles behind his waist, tugging him deeper into me with my legs and my hands.My fingernails scraped along his freckled arms but he didn’t complain. Hepushed his tongue into my mouth and sucked my tongue hard enough to make mycunt flex.

“Come for me, Jen. I can feel itthere. I can feel your wet pussy tight around me. I can feel that you want to.That you can. Come for me,” he demanded. His fingers threaded through mine andhe held my hands down to the mattress, pressing them so tight it hurt a bit.Hurt just enough to make me come, make me shiver under him with the force of myrelease. “Good girl. Two,” he said.

My cheeks blossomed with warmth at hispraise and Carl flipped me. Lanky arms turning me with incredible strength.Carl was like a snake. You couldn’t let the size of him fool you. Appearancescould be deceiving. A man who hauled gear and worked bars, built stages andbroke down sets and could still pluck out I’m On Fire by BruceSpringsteen with ease after a long day was not to be trifled with. “I am good.A good, good girl,” I grunted.

And I thought for a second, finding mybalance on my hands and knees as Carl wrapped my golden brown hair round andround his ruddy hand, that my mother should love me. I was a good girl.

“Yes. Yes, you are, baby cakes. You aregood. In more ways than one.” Carl ran the tip of his cock to the tight star ofmy ass and when I shivered he laughed. “Don’t worry. Not tonight. But maybetomorrow.” The threat and promise made my body hum. The possibility of thatdarker sex we had. Where he played with my pain and my pleasure. Where hewalked that line that made me beg him, only I didn’t know if I was begging himto keep going or begging him to stop. That loomed over me in a deliciouslyfrightening way.

Carl pushed deep and held me by myhair and by my hip. My head stayed high and true like a horse because he had methere, my long mane coiled around his talented hand. In my head I heard Hey,little girl is your daddy home?…Bruce’s shatteredwhisky rough voice hissing in my mind as Carl sank deep and started to fuck mehard, tugging at my hair so I held my breath.

My eyes found the cracked bedroom doorand a thrill worked through my stomach like a ball of fire. It looked likesomeone was watching us. Standing in the hall, buried in the shadows. Partiallyhidden but there. I held my breath as Carl surged into me, slamming into me sofast and so hard that I moved across the bed in little millimeters of movement.I sighed out, the excitement of someone--it could only be Gil--watchingme, watching us. My skin grew tight with goose bumps, my cunt wetter still withurgency and excitement. Lush and full and teetering on another slippery peak, Ishook under Carl and he fucked me. Hard. Harder than I could remember.

The shadow seemed to shift and moveand I didn’t stare at it full on. Afraid it was there, afraid that it wasn’t.Afraid that if Gil was really watching us, that he would be mortified at beingcaught. Or I would be or we would be or…maybeI was more afraid that we wouldn’t.

“Jesus Christ, Jenny Girl,” Carl saidand yanked my hair so hard I cried out, but his long, lanky arm snaked under meand he pinched my slick clit in his strong fingers and then rubbed me slipperyfast and we came together, him hunched over me, shuddering like a dying manwhile I