22 comments/ 43874 views/ 6 favorites Miss Nova By: Route66Girl I get so tired of this city sometimes. There was a time when I thought I'd never get sick of it. Vegas is so impressive the first time you see it- all lights and glitter and 24-hour fun. Just like they say in the movies about it. I came here with my boyfriend just after I'd turned twenty-one, and my eyes glazed over with all of it instantly. And man, was it was a blast- until it all went wrong with Joe and his growing gambling problem. He took out loans and gambled them away, losing job after job for abusing casino privileges. He fell fast and hard; another familiar story in this city. Of course, he blew town. Woke up one morning… no more Joe. He didn't even leave the last measly frozen burrito in the fridge for me. Fast forward through two and a half confusing years, and I'm still here, except now all I do is carry change from old lady to old lady, each of them sucking down their salty dogs and martinis and plunking coins into slots like there's no tomorrow. The casino I work at isn't on the strip. Not even on Fremont. It's nowhere in the middle of Vegas, so obscure that even the owner seems to have forgotten it existed, since no one can remember ever meeting him. Twenty-three. No prospects, no boyfriend, no family except my brother in the Army and a loser stepfather somewhere in Texas. Not even a freaking cat to come home to at night. All I had going for me was that I looked good in that skimpy change-girl outfit. "Dead Endsville, baby!" Some liquored-up, tired-looking woman once said that to me as I'd walked up to the entrance of The Venetian a few months ago. I'd come to the strip looking for fun after a bad night at the casino, fending off drunken men who thought that dropping wads of cash on the tables gave them license to grope the help. I glanced anxiously at that old woman, her bleary gaze seeming to peer right through to my worst fears, and shuddered as I walked inside the hotel. I tried to shake it off as I stood watching the fake gondoliers, but she was right. I was stuck in a rut, trapped by a town that, if it hadn't already, would end up corrupting me to the core. And what in the world did I have besides looks that would eventually fade? Well, I did have my car. I'd saved for that rust heap- saved even more to fix it up- for as long as I'd been working that crappy job. A cherry-red '62 Chevrolet Nova convertible. It was a piece of shit when I got it for $500. But I bought parts and worked on that baby myself until it was in tip-top shape. Except the paint job- I had that professionally done. Okay, so she's no Ferrari, but I look damn good driving down the strip. And what I love to do most is take my car out and drive away. Just go tour the Nevada back roads, top down, radio blaring oldies, sometimes stopping to look at the stars, always hoping the sun won't rise. But, inevitably, dawn always creeps over the horizon with the scorching heat of the sun, and reality comes crashing back down. The last couple months, every Friday night, I'd end up at this old diner somewhere between here and Laughlin. Just another greasy spoon joint to stop in at and get a 3 a.m. breakfast after driving through the desert all night. It sure beat staying out 'til dawn and getting depressed about where my pathetic life ranked in the scheme of things. But pulling up to that same diner last Friday night, the radio bleating with the sounds of an Elvis marathon, I knew all too well what it really was that kept me coming back, and why I felt a glimmer of something to look forward to when I went there. And, also, why I'd dressed in my most eye-popping short red dress that night. I couldn't keep my eyes off him. Thirty something, sitting there with a white cowboy hat shading his face, hunched over a cup of coffee, keeping to himself. He was six feet plus of raw male sexuality, relaxed as he could be, always in the corner booth. It drove me nuts that I couldn't really see his eyes under the rim of that hat. I could sure see his mouth, though. It was delectably wide with lips redder than most, like they would feel hot to the touch. Strong jaw, clean-shaven, bronzed skin, and well-developed muscles threatening to be fully defined underneath a loose, white snap-down shirt that was tucked into tight, worn out blue denims. Well-worn but polished black boots. Short, dark hair- well trimmed judging by the look of his short sideburns, and big, strong hands that wore no rings (yes!). There was nothing I wanted more than that man. He was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen, and he was at that diner every Friday night just like me. Not that the stubborn prick ever noticed I was there. I'd find any excuse possible to walk by his booth; take the long way to my table or the restroom, or to the old jukebox, hoping to grab his attention as I walked slowly past. But that white cowboy hat of his never tipped upwards to indicate that he ever saw anything but that cheesy old Formica tabletop. Sometimes he'd be looking at a newspaper, but it was always laid flat on the table, not even leaving me a chance to catch his eye when he turned the pages. A few weeks ago, I'd started wearing my sexiest perfume, again hoping to get him to look at me as I passed by. But the man had no reaction at all, like he was devoid of olfactory senses. So, one night, I "accidentally" dropped my purse by his table as I walked past, making sure to give him an eyeful of cleavage when I bent over to pick it up. The sonofabitch didn't move even one muscle. I may as well have been flashing a brick wall. But last Friday night, I was bringing out the big guns. Conscience and modesty be damned- I would not be ignored any longer, even if I had to throw myself at him. Screwing up all the courage I could muster, I got up from my table and walked over to the jukebox. After perusing the selection for a few moments, the perfect song leapt out. I fed a quarter into the slot and an electronic arm moved over rows of shiny black vinyls before selecting a single disc and swinging it into place. Keeping in the spirit of the evening, Elvis started to croon that it was now or never. I turned around and took a deep breath. There he was, hunched over his corner table as usual, that delicious-looking mouth of his on the rim of a coffee mug. I walked over as alluringly as I could and sat down at his booth across from him, tossing my purse and keys casually down on the table. Not saying anything, I propped my elbows on the table, chin on my hands, and leaned over towards him, waiting for his reaction. For what seemed like an eternity, he was silent. But then, at last, his lips spread into a slow, cool smile as he took a long sip of black coffee. "Well, if it isn't Miss Chevy Nova," he said after he swallowed it down. So he had noticed. I opened my mouth to utter a witty, sexy line that I'd been reciting in my mind all night, but he caught me off-guard by suddenly swiping my car keys off the table. "Let's go for a drive." Stunned by his command, I sat there gaping at him as he stood up and threw ten bucks on the table. And finally, I could see his eyes- big, brown, totally at ease, and looking down at me like he'd expected this all along. He picked up a worn black leather jacket that he languidly tossed over his shoulder. He flashed a charming grin as he stuffed his wallet into his back pocket. "Well, are you just gonna sit there and let me take your car, sweetheart, or are you comin'?" There was no time to waste. I couldn't get up fast enough, and followed close on his heels until we reached the door. It's bell jingled as he opened it for me, tipping his hat. If only I'd known it would be this easy, I thought. I would've thrown myself at him weeks ago. He took the lead and I followed him out to my car, admiring his gorgeous rear and the easy strut he walked with, his boots clicking on the pavement. He opened the passenger door for me and I slid in, noticing what a handsome face he had now that I could really see all of it. He'd tipped his hat back and was smiling at me as he shut the door. I melted at that smile and stared sappily up at him. He shook his head, chuckling as he walked over to the driver's side and let himself in. He seemed very amused by the whole situation, and I had to wonder what was so humorous. Had the man just been waiting for me to make the first move all along? Was I being played like a violin here, or what? Oh, I didn't care. Hell, I was with him, wasn't I? That's what I wanted. The Nova purred to life when he turned the ignition, its radio already turned onto my favorite oldies station- the one which was having a Presley marathon. He pulled out onto the highway and we drove in silence, listening as Elvis came on once again, rocking away with "I Got Stung." It felt strange to be a passenger in my own car. If you'd asked me an hour before if I'd ever let anyone else drive it, I would have laughed in your face with a resounding, "No!" But I didn't care when it came to him. He could drive anything of mine he wanted anytime. I had no clue where he was taking us, but decided to go with the flow, letting every bit of common sense I had fly away with the wind that rushed through my hair. He, on the other hand, was still grinning as if highly amused. "So what's so funny?" I finally asked. He shook his head. "You, girl. You're a mighty funny one." "How's that?" "I was wondering how long it would take for you to come over to my table back there." He paused to laugh before continuing. "You could've just said 'hi', you know." "Well, so could you," I said playfully, scooting next to him. "Well, I suppose you're right there." He cocked his head to one side, smiling as he wrapped his arm around me. "So why didn't you? He smirked, pausing before he answered. "I guess you could just say I'm the shy type." I raised my eyebrow. Somehow I doubted there was anything really shy about this man. He seemed to be quite content just driving along, and another silence ensued before I decided to speak up again. "So, how's she feel?" I asked, truly impressed with the way he handled my car, which was gliding smoothly along the highway. "Oh, real good," he replied, squeezing my arm. "I had one of these when I was a kid. You've got good taste. Thank for letting me drive her. Brings back memories, that's for sure." I smirked. I couldn't help but notice that guys usually went nuts for my vehicle. They were always impressed that I'd fixed it up myself, to boot. Guys usually have cars to attract women. But it worked in reverse for me. It struck me all of a sudden that I didn't even know the name of this man who was taking us to who knows where. "So what do I call you?" I asked. "Evan." "Just Evan?" "Yeah, that'll do for now," he smiled, looking into my eyes for a brief moment before turning back to the road. "What do I call you?" "Lisa." I licked my lips before I answered, now in full 'come hither' mode. "Lisa…" he trailed off for a moment, and then grinned. "Miss Lisa Nova. I like that." He pulled me closer to him, his hand wrapped around my torso. I laid my head on his shoulder. God, life felt so good at that moment. There, on a desert highway, stars above us, night-cooled air rushing over me, the King commanding the stereo, and this gorgeous man at my side. Driving my car. Emboldened, I let my hand rest on his knee and nuzzled my face into his neck, drinking in the scent of a wonderfully spicy aftershave I didn't recognize. Whatever it was, it drove me crazy, sending shivers down my spine. I sighed, and tentatively kissed the nook under his jaw line while my hand massaged his thigh, feeling his muscles flex as he increased pressure on the accelerator. I opened my mouth, my tongue dancing on the salty-sweet skin of his neck. "Oh, my..." he drawled, obviously enjoying my attentions. "You don't waste time, do you, Lisa Nova?" The only answer I made was the satisfied smile he could probably feel as I continued to nibble and kiss his neck, and my hand moved all the way to his groin. I was dying to touch him there to see for myself just how much he was responding, and wasn't disappointed upon feeling a hot, solid length of hard flesh encased in that denim. Momentarily, though, as I looked up at him, I was a little annoyed. Here I was, soaking wet, fondling a man who I'd let drive my own car without a word of protest, burning for him. And he seemed in complete control, eyes locked on the road, a smile of complete relaxation on his face. But my frustration didn't last long. He was melting fast as my hand applied pressure to his crotch. He shifted in the driver's seat, spreading his legs ever so slightly, giving me more access. A low, short "mmm" sounded from his throat as I ran my hand along the length of his obscured hard-on, and he smiled as if he were a child pleased by his first taste of candy. Encouraged, I unbuttoned the fly of his jeans, my body pulsing at the sound of him sucking in a quick breath, the feel of him squirming in the seat. He was starting to lose control. I knew then that I had him. He was wearing boxers, but his erection didn't pop out. It strained at an unwieldy angle, still tucked in by the thick denim despite its raging hardness. My hand slipped underneath his jeans and I massaged the length of his engorged cock with my palm through the thin cotton of his boxers, and continued kissing his neck, tasting sweat as he started to perspire. "Sweet Jesus…" I heard him mutter under his breath. "You like that?" I whispered. "Oh, yeah." I'd never felt so triumphant, so naughty in my life. Sure, Joe and I had our moments, but he'd been my first and last boyfriend, and what with me always being the romantic type, I never dallied with anyone else. And I'd never done anything this spontaneous, let alone with someone I'd just met. Evan probably thought I was a real hussy the way I was behaving. But I wanted him so badly I didn't care if I was acting like a brazen slut. I'd do him right there in the seat as he drove if he let me. My mouth moved from his neck to his lips. Another longing moan came from him as I kissed him hungrily. Just as I had imagined, his lips were hot and ready, devouring mine luxuriously. His tongue immediately met my own, insistently prodding into my mouth. I kissed him voraciously, concentrated heat raging in my lower belly, spreading like wildfire to my loins, which ached with need. I purposely hadn't worn any panties that night, and I was so turned on that wetness was starting to trickle down my inner thighs, spread by the wriggling I had to do to get access to him in the confines of the seat. I crawled over on top of him and he welcomed me, at first reaching around and cupping my rear with his free hand, before it wandered around up to my hip and then my breasts and down again, like he was taking a quick inventory of my body. His touch set me on fire as his hand crept up my leg, leisurely massaging my thigh as it journeyed towards my crotch. He reached the place that had been dampened by my juices, and suddenly I heard a screeching of tires. "Oh, my God…" he muttered. "Just hold on there a moment... I don't want to wreck your car, now." For the first time since I'd started making out with him, I realized I must have been blocking his view of the road. The whole event served as a testament to his good driving abilities. He hadn't swerved once. Jarred by the motion of the car slowing down so abruptly, I twisted around to see that he was pulling into a motel. There were dozens of them along this highway. Evan gently pushed me off of him as he parked in front of the main office, his lips lingering on mine just long enough for me to savor his taste. His mouth tasted of raw lust and coffee, and at that moment, coffee was the most powerful aphrodisiac under the sun. Or, in that case, the moon. "Just hold that thought, Lisa," he said as he tore his lips from mine. He got out of the car and did his jeans up with some difficulty, not able to do up the top two buttons. He leaned over to kiss me again with the promise of being right back, and went into the office with his shirt untucked, evidently hoping it would cover up his hard-on. I stretched out after he disappeared, loving the moment. The woeful strains of "Love Me" floated over the airwaves through my radio, and I turned it up. The smell of the desert air, of my own arousal, knowing that I had him at last in my grasp- it was almost too delicious to take. I closed my eyes to drink it all in. Before the King crooned the last "oh, yeah" of the song, Evan was back, looking down at me with that cocky smile, getting into the car again. I quickly scooted by him once more as he drove up to what was our door, and killed the engine. As soon as it died, he leaned into me with a hungry kiss that took my breath away. Never had I been kissed with so much need. His big hands grabbed under me and cupped my ass as his tongue delved into my mouth softly, searching out my own with a groan. I wrapped my limbs around him tight and tried to pull him down on top of me. But, as had been the case so far, he had more patience than I, and held me up against him. I didn't notice it, but he got the door unlatched behind him so he could pull me out of the car. He did so easily as I clung to him, my arms and legs clutching fast to his body. It was only when he chuckled into my mouth that I realized he was standing upright, walking towards the motel room door with me wrapped around him like a huggy bear. I giggled, continued to kiss him. "Damn, girl," he murmured, laughing again as he pressed me against the outer wall of the room, releasing one hand so he could fish the key out of his pocket. I thrust up against him, grinding my bare crotch against his clothed one as he put the key in the slot. He nearly yelped at that, pushing the door open with such force that it banged hard against the doorstop, and rushed inside like a fireman on a drill, the door slamming shut from the inertia. Now mercifully alone together, he collapsed on top of me on the bed. I kept writhing against him, but he took control of his own lust quickly, separating his lips from mine. He was up over me, kneeling between my legs, and ran his hands slowly over the whole length of my body, delighting in the feel of every square inch. The desire was evident in his body language, but all the same, he settled back with a smile that bespoke pure patience. "So," he said, moving his hands up my thighs, inching my skirt up, "what do you want, Miss Nova?" I wanted to scream out in agony at such a ridiculous question. But I knew what he was doing. He was teasing me, making me beg. "I want you," I managed to utter, breathless. "You want me? Oh, my…" he breathed, gorgeous brown eyes roving over every curve of my body. His hands once again roamed up to my thighs where my juices had flowed and his eyes danced with amusement upon feeling how aroused I was. "I guess you must want me pretty bad," he said, cocking his head with a sweet smile. "What do you say when you want something that bad?" I closed my eyes, lost in a haze of delirious lust, and my hand unconsciously wandered up to my face "Please…" "Well," he said, and I marveled at the control in his voice. He sounded like he had all the time in the world. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't give the lady what she wants?" Suddenly there was a creaking of springs and my eyelids fluttered open. He was standing at the foot of the bed, unsnapping his shirt. I whimpered at the sight of his bare chest and started to suck on my fingers, wishing they were the cock that I could see bulging in his pants. His strong pecs were covered with a fine, thin covering of dark hair that trailed tantalizingly down and past his navel. Miss Nova I couldn't stand anymore. I quickly sat up and crawled to the foot of the bed just as he tossed his shirt to the floor, and started to undo his Levis again. I yanked them down hurriedly with his boxers as soon as they were undone. And there it was in the pale light coming in through the blinds- a hard, thick, raging cock begging for attention. His eyes told the story of patience, but it wasn't a lesson I wanted to learn at the moment. Being so turned on always makes me want to please my partner to the extreme. I reached out and took his gorgeous penis gently in my hand. I stroked it lovingly as I lowered my head to taste this delectable present. It was dripping with precum, and I swirled my tongue around it, licking it up. Its raw, earthy taste spread over my tongue, amplifying my own lust by ten times. I moaned with pleasure as I kissed the swollen head open-mouthed. Upon pulling away, a sticky string of milky precum connected my tongue to his head before I lapped it up, swallowing. "Oh… my God…" he muttered, closing his eyes, his hands rising hesitantly up to entwine their fingers in my dark tresses. Licking up and down his shaft, coating it with saliva, I relished the feel of the popped veins and the silky smoothness of the hard flesh and his hands pulling me in more insistently. Satisfied that he was seething with lust, I took the whole head into my mouth and teased it with the flexed tip of my tongue, lightly digging into the slit, smiling as I heard him utter a curse under his breath. With that, I bobbed my head down and took at least half of his length into my mouth, sucking as I withdrew with a moan of satisfaction. I'd wanted this for so long. My pussy was aching with need as I imagined him sliding in and out of it. But I was enjoying him too much like this. I kept my tongue flexed, massaging his cock as I sucked, applying pressure to sensitive spots along his shaft. I went down on him again, and then again, each time taking him deeper. When the head reached my throat, I flexed as if to swallow, enclosing it tighter. He moaned in pure pleasure, which drove me on further, wanting to feel him cum in my throat. "Oh, Lisa… so good…" he murmured, clutching my hair in his fists. He started to buck against my mouth, his cock thrusting deep. I about choked when he undulated almost too deeply, but managed to continue without gagging. He was enjoying so much, it became a point of pride not to ruin it with gagging. I continued sucking and swallowing him down with everything I had and opened my eyes, expecting to see his still closed in ecstasy. But they were open, burning into me with such intensity I almost felt scorched. The eye contact must have almost put him over the edge, because he yanked back quickly, my hungry mouth releasing his cock with an audible slurp. "Easy, vixen," Evan said, his grip on my hair relaxing into affectionate, calm strokes, his control returning. "Not yet." He leaned down and wrapped his arms around me. I thought he was going to simply hug me at first, but his hands undid the back zipper of my dress in one swift motion and pushed me tenderly down onto the bed. He pulled the dress down over my torso and legs, until I could squirm out of it completely. He kicked his boots off and stepped out of his Levis, standing before me at the foot of the bed, wearing only his hat. And there I was, spread-eagle, just in my heels. He crawled down onto the bed, forcing me up towards the headboard as he moved forward, kissing me on the mouth, our tongues swirling. He nestled between my legs, sitting up on his knees, his hands now moving up towards my breasts. I closed my eyes, anticipating the coming barrage of pleasure. Then the unbearable tease did it again. "Which do you want first?" his smooth, calm voice seemed ethereal in my lust-hazed mind. "Huh?" I kept my eyes closed. Every nerve ending in my body was screaming to life. 'Do you want me to touch you here?" One hand grazed my breast almost imperceptibly, teasing a swollen nipple, making me shudder and arch my back, seeking his hands. "Or here…?" He continued, his other hand barely pressing against my sopping pussy, which rose insistently to his touch. "Both?" "Yeah." I could barely manage coherent speech. "You want both, girl?" "Uh-huh…" "Here it comes…" his voice low, gentle. "And God, are you ever ready…" Suddenly one of my breasts was being kissed with hot, wet lips. His tongue swirled around the nipple teasingly, doing everything, it seemed, but taking it into his mouth where it belonged. I writhed in agony beneath him, my fingertips digging into his back, my legs spreading wider. Then the fingers of his other hand were spreading open my labia, dividing the lips and releasing a flow of hot juices. His hand caressed and stroked me tantalizingly as my hips started to undulate, trying to maneuver his touch to my clitoris. Then I felt it- his thumb pushed back the hood and started to rub the hard nub on my clit as a finger slowly entered me, and my nipple was suddenly sucked into his mouth urgently, his tongue caressing over it even as he suckled. I cried out at the amazing sensation this assault sent pulsing through me. God, Joe had never done anything remotely like that. I felt like Evan was focusing on nothing but me, my body, making me feel the most intense pleasure of my life. "Oh, yes, more…" I didn't even realize I was speaking until his mouth released my breast and stopped mine with a kiss. I moaned even as he pressed his lips against mine, thrusting a second finger into my vagina, pumping it deeper, his other hand squeezing my breast gently, teasing the erect nipple, his thumb still rubbing against my clit. My pussy walls contracted around his fingers, taking me towards an earth-shattering orgasm, when suddenly… They withdrew. A groan of agony escaped me as his mouth left mine. "No," the extended complaint left me almost unconsciously, only to be replaced by a long "Yes" when I felt his breath on my pussy, the bedsprings squeaking as he moved down. As his mouth covered my clit in wet kiss, he moaned, breaking the kiss for a moment, his hands spreading my legs wider, massaging my inner thighs and running his thumbs in the crease that divided my legs from my puffed labia. "You're so wet," he whispered, the sensation of his cool breath against the hot flesh driving me insane. "I love that… Oh, God, you smell good…" With that, his fingers reentered and his mouth covered my clit again, sucking it in slowly like it was a delicacy. His talented tongue went to work again, rubbing gently against that sensitive nubbin of hardened flesh at the top of my pussy lips. My eyes flew open as I gasped in sheer ecstasy. All I could see of him was that hat, the brim rubbing against my tummy. I smiled for a moment at some bit of irony, my hands grasping his shoulders… this was just the view of him I usually had of him in the diner… his face obscured by that white cowboy hat. But Evan's licking and sucking on my pussy, his fingers plunging in and out, rubbing my g-spot with every delicious stroke, didn't leave much room for coherent thought. In a short moment, I closed my eyes again, crying out at the searing, heavenly sensations that shot through my body like liquid fire. He was taking me towards the most intense orgasm of my young life. I bucked against his face, chanting his name, the only name I knew him by, as my blood rushed hot through every part of my body. The torrent of pleasure culminated in a series of explosions that raced through my pussy, each burst releasing more of my own hot cum against his face. He lapped it up, his tongue continuing its wonderful ministrations as I came hard, my being absolutely torn as I cried out in exquisite release, my body convulsing in spasms of pleasure. I was still twitching when his mouth released me at long last. "Evan… Evan…" I panted, weak. "What's that?" he asked. Again, his voice was the model of relaxed calm. "Did you like that, girl?" I opened my eyes again to see him poised above me, his face shining wet and smelling of my musky sex. "Uh-huh…" I managed. I felt the tip of his cock against my pussy, setting me on fire all over again. My vaginal walls flexed hungrily as if he was already inside. "Do you want more?" He was smiling at me with that sweet grin again. "Yeah," I smiled. He rubbed against me, his chest pressing down against my breasts, his hard cock pressing into my sloppy pussy. The tip rubbed against my clit, causing me to whimper again. "Evan…. " "What's that?" he teased. God damn, did the man ever lose control? "Fuck me," I begged. "Oh, I like the sound of that." He grinded against me once more, that succulent erection of his running though my lips, applying delicious pressure to my clit. "Please… fuck me…" "Why don't you turn over for me, Miss Nova?" I probably would have jumped off a cliff at that point if he'd asked me to. I opened my eyes and looked into his. There was lust and pleasure gleaming in them, and he licked my open, panting mouth with a devilish grin. He rose up off me for a moment and sat up on his knees. I caught a glimpse of his erection as I flipped over- it was furious with desire, curved in against his stomach, swollen to full readiness. I settled onto my tummy, raising my hips when his hands prodded me into position until I was on my knees. I rested my head on the pillow, panting in anticipation. His lips smacked against each of my ass cheeks tenderly as he maneuvered behind me. I gasped upon feeling the hard length of his cock sliding through the lips of my pussy teasingly before the head came to rest at the quivering opening of my sex. I strained back, trying to get him to enter, but he held back firmly, his hands on my hips preventing me from leaning back too far. "Please, Evan…" At last, he pressed his cock-head inside me with a pleasured moan. I desperately wanted him to shove his whole length inside me, but he only plunged in another inch before withdrawing. He entered again, but no deeper than the first thrust, and continued slowly tip-fucking me, probing the entrance. My eyes flew open- the swollen head was prodding forcefully against my g-spot with every tiny stroke. I stopped trying to buck against him, realizing what he was doing, a guttural moan escaping me at the feel of him filling up those fist couple inches of me, grinding the head against that sensitive place. Every time he hit it, I cried out at the amazing sensations… he was taking me to the brink rapidly I was being rocketed to another orgasm before I even had the chance to realize what was happening. "Evan… yes, oh, God!" I cried out, my body seizing in the throes of ecstasy. Wave after wave of blissful release poured through me, out of me. "'Atta girl," he groaned, burying himself deeper, his cadence the same deliciously patient rhythm as he thrust into me. His cock pistoned in and out, deeper every time, until he was all the way inside me, his balls against my soaked sex, and my pussy started to squeeze him almost involuntarily even as my orgasm continued, building on the one from before, taking me further into oblivion. I was almost sobbing from the pleasure. "Oh, yes… there we go," he muttered. I glanced back, gasping, wanting to see his face. I had to look at him… this man who was bringing me so much bliss. Evan was relishing every stroke me made. He was watching his cock slowly enter and exit, his face still in total control, smiling gently with pleasure. His eyes and hands roved over my back, my ass, my pussy, burning into me as his gaze met mine. The way he talked dirty and made me beg… the man was devouring every inch of my body with every sense he had. I couldn't be as controlled as he was. I couldn't help it- the sensations he gave me, his delicious cock filling me over and over again- it taking me on a long, leisurely path to another climax. I closed my eyes again and gasped as he started to thrust just a little faster. He still talked in that low, sexy voice to me as he fucked me luxuriously. "You like that, girl? Feel good?" "Yeah… yeah…give it to me…" I uttered some new encouragement with every plunge he took, my muscles clenching that hard cock of his every time he withdrew. "That's it," he gasped, his thrusts getting faster. He grasped one of my hips in one hand and reached around to one of my breasts with the other, cupping it as his cadence became more urgent. Evan grunted as he reamed me, gorging himself on my body. This was, without a doubt, the best fuck of my life. He leaned down and kissed my sweat-soaked back, running his tongue up between my shoulder blades, his hand moving from my breast to my clit. His fingers went to work slowly, rubbing me where he knew it would send me into orbit. He raised up, his hand still massaging my pussy, his hips bucking faster and faster until he was fucking me in full, his balls slapping against me as he drove inside in a relentless quest for fulfillment. He was moving inside me with such force and speed that it became one searing feeling of intense heated pleasure centering in my pussy. I screamed, feeling yet another orgasm take hold me of me. Moments later, I was quivering as it rushed through my body, the sweet release shredding every bit of control I had. "Oh, God," he shuddered as ambrosia gushed out of me, soaking his groin as he fucked me still. "There you go, girl… yeah…" His strokes suddenly became long and deep, slower, his hands gripping my hips tight. His cock pulsed, shooting a stream of cum inside me. He trembled and moaned as he thrust again and again, each one bringing a fresh jet of semen that splashed inside my pussy. I cried out, his cum overflowing and dripping out of me even as my own climax finally relented. I looked behind me through strands of damp hair, my mouth open in pants, wanting to watch him cum. His eyes were closed, his face locked in an expression of sheer heavenly enjoyment, a film of sweat covering his body as he pumped inside my pussy. Amazingly, yet another climax washed through me at the sight of him, the feel of him cumming inside me with such force. At last, his own orgasm subsided, and he settled back on his haunches after a few moments, his cock softening and slipping out. He took a few minutes to recover, his breath slowly returning to normal. Evan opened his glazed eyes, which focused to see me looking at him. He smiled with an exhausted sigh as he ran a hand along my back, leaning over me again. I collapsed and turned over so Evan could lie on top of me. He kissed me languidly with a groan of pure satisfaction. The taste of me was still on him, and I was surprised to discover the flavor of our saliva and cum mixed together was pleasing. I couldn't resist the urge to smack his ass. "So, how was that?" I asked him between kisses. He grinned through our sticky kiss. "That was the crappiest lay of my life," he said. I playfully slapped at him as he laughed and started to tickle me under my ribs. I shrieked with giggles. "Are you kidding?" he chuckled as I squirmed beneath him. He caught my lips with his own, stopping the tickling. He paused to look into my eyes, that same cocky smile from before on his face. "You're incredible, Miss Lisa Nova." I threw my arms around his neck happily and kissed him again. Oh, God, I thought, this had to have been the best night I've had in years. Evan was clearly relaxed and happy, and he settled onto his back with me in his arms, my head resting on his chest. Almost like it was an afterthought, he raised his head up and removed his hat for the first time of the night, setting it on the nightstand. I had always somehow expected his looks to change drastically without it, but he was just as handsome, albeit his dark hair was matted with sweat from what we had been doing. He drifted off to sleep easily enough, but it was a little more difficult for me to succumb to the call of the Sandman. Knowing my luck, I thought, this night would be my only one with Evan. I was reluctant to let it go. Oh, sure, I could have stayed awake, pestering him with questions about inner feelings, love and romance and the whole nine yards. But what for? I'd seen numerous friends biting their nails "the morning after," waiting for the phone to ring. Sometimes they'd wait for days after. It always ended with tears. I looked at my snoozing lover and decided that wasn't what this night was about. It was about living for the moment, and enjoying it for what it was. No matter what happened when the sun crept over the horizon tomorrow, I wanted to walk away from this motel room satisfied with what had happened within its four walls. And the only way that was possible was to just take it for what it was. When morning came, I wouldn't even offer him my phone number. That thought in mind, I drifted off, Evan's chest rising and falling with deep breaths underneath my cheek, a compromising smile on my lips. Of course, morning did come, just as always. It just didn't come in the form I expected it. "Ay Conyo!" The imposing shadow of a large, dark-skinned woman in a maid's uniform was silhouetted in glaring light that poured in through the doorway. I blinked, confused. My mouth was bone-dry and I was sore between my legs, which were sticky and sweaty. I tried to remember where I was for a moment… then it came to me. I looked over at the other side of the bed. Empty. Remembering my last thoughts of the night before, I sighed in acceptance before the housekeeper caught my attention again. "It's past eleven!" she exclaimed, switching to English. "Check out time. I wait for five minutes. Then you go! I clean room." With that, she slammed the door shut. I quickly dressed without bothering to check in the mirror, and drank a little lukewarm water from the tap. The important thing now was to just get home and have something to eat, maybe take a nap. And not have to face that housekeeper again. I gathered my purse and keys, and my eyes stung as I emerged the room. Harsh desert sun stabbed them with searing brightness, and I fumbled with my purse, trying to find my sunglasses. The housekeeper was there, organizing her cart. She was careful not to look at me. I realized, then, that she was probably used to this… having to run trampy-looking women out of rooms in the middle of the day so she could get them ready for the next horny couple. My face burned with shame as I walked over to where Evan had parked the car, putting on my sunglasses. As I approached it, I noticed a piece of paper tucked underneath a windshield wiper. I removed it quickly, releasing the sun-scorched rubber and metal of the wiper before it burned my fingers. As I read it, my heart skipped a beat. "Darling Miss Nova, Took a cab back to the diner to pick up my truck. You looked so darned peaceful I didn't want to wake you. Hope you don't mind. Better call me, girl. 487-5482. Love, Evan P.S. I just might have to make you employee of the month." Suddenly it was a glorious day. Author's note: Want Chapter 2? Let me know! If you enjoyed this, my first submission to Literotica, votes are most appreciated as well as any feedback. Constructive criticism is also welcome. Happy reading! Miss November Lenny Spodnik was relatively certain that sex was everything. Of course, he rarely had an opportunity to put this theory into practice, but if the chance ever arose, Lenny was certain that he would prove himself a sexual dynamo. In fact, Lenny couldn't even imagine why he never could find the perfect woman. All the jerks in the world who have women all over them, Lenny thought, and I can't get even one! In the meantime, Lenny dreamed. And dreamed. He sent a photo of himself (and a fairly witty ad) to a local singles' magazine, imagining that the replies would storm in. He spent most of his spare time at the local singles bar, waiting for that one night when the cosmos would be in harmony and Ms. Right would come along. The only people Lenny ever encountered through these social avenues, though, were people just as desperate as he, who had little to offer Lenny except their desperation. Darn my bad luck, he thought. While Lenny waited for the cosmos to get in step, he periodically thumbed through old issues of his favorite girlie magazine. He had been nuts over this periodical, ever since an old edition that his dad had left lying around caught his eye. In fact, it was that one edition of his dad's that was the impetus for Lenny's vast fantasy life. Lenny had taken one look at this centerfold (the year having long since been torn away) named Janet, and Lenny succumbed forever to the wild call of his glands. Janet, Lenny felt, was surely the encapsulation of his every wish in a woman. From her flowing blonde hair, to her fully rounded bosom, right down to her finely painted toenails, Lenny regarded her as everything he could possibly ask for. In fact, Lenny sometimes regarded Janet's image as a curse to him, since no woman could possibly lip up to his expectations unless she matched the perfection of [sigh] Janet. One night Lenny sat hunched over a bar, when a woman walked in and sat directly across from him at the other end of the bar. Lenny sullenly looked uip from his beer and did a double take. The combination of the bar's dim lighting and the beer's numbing effects must have been playing with his mind. Because that woman who was sitting across from him looked exactly like... And she seemed to be smiling -- at him! Lenny felt himself heading off the deep end until he made a sharp right turn back to reality. Sure, Lenny, he thought to himself -- an old Miss November has nothing better to do than drop in at a seedy bar and make time with you, of all people. Better get a grip on yourself. Lenny marched over to a video game, sat down, and deposited a quarter, proud of himself for regaining control. He quickly got involved with the game -- until he looked up and saw the blonde across from him. "Mind if I watch?" she asked. Lenny wasn't sure what was more entrancing -- the trail of blonde hair or the infinite cleavage. The war plane on Lenny's video game quickly tailspun and never regained its former power. The woman laughed at Lenny's awe and invited him to sit with her. Lenny simply nodded his head and trailed behind her, his tongue too far down his throat to form the right words. They talked for a couple of hours, though it took Lenny quite some time to regain his powers of conversation. He was simply stunned that this gorgeous creature was interested in anything he had to say. And now that she was up close, she looked even more like... Aw, forget it. Finally, the bar was about to close, and they had to get ready to leave. The woman asked if he'd like to stop by her place for a while, and Lenny quickly put his hormones on stand-by as he said yes. "You know," the woman said, "we've been talking all this time, and I've not even thought to ask your name." "Uh, Lenny. And yours?" "Janet." Lenny was certain he felt his brain go plop into his beer. Everything after that was a total blackout, until Lenny woke up and found himself nuzzling Janet's right breast. Then Lenny's memory returned, and a huge smile floated across his face. Lenny pulled back a bit and surveyed Janet's extraordinary physique. Sheer perfection, he thought. If this isn't Miss November, then she's still close enough to suit me. In fact, Lenny was so entranced by Janet's luscious form that he failed to notice two seeminly trivial, yet not inconspicuous defects. Janet's body possessed two staple marks, one just above her chest, the other a couple of inches below her navel. Lenny couldn't help thinking that perhaps she really was Miss November, come to brighten up his life. But he couldn't broach the question to Janet, for fear that she'd label him a lunatic and drop him on the spot. At least she's consented to see me again, Lenny thought. Best to leave well enough alone. Janet and Lenny agreed that they would take in a movie that evening, after which they would stop in at the bar, followed by a mutual agreement to unite in Lenny's boudoir and hump each other's brains out. So that Lenny would not appear a total lech, he decided to remove his framed centerfold of Miss November from its usual perch above his bed. Due to some loose carpeting, however, Lenny tripped and fell after he removed the picture. Lenny was only slightly stunned, but the frame had acquired a crack at its center. Oh well, Lenny wasn't going to keep it in plain sight anyway, so it wouldn't need immediate replacing. That night, Janet came to the door in a spaghetti-strap gown wrapped as tightly as a tourniquet. As Janet sashayed towards the car, Lenny imagined Janet trying to squeeze her wriggling form into that dress, a task he likened to forcing Jell-O into a Baggie. As Lenny drove off, he told Janet how marvelous he looked. "Thanks," she said. "You know, I had really wanted to wear something more casual tonight, like a halter-top. But this afternoon, I was puttering around my apartment, and somehow I got this huge cut across my stomach. It felt like broken glass, but afterwards I looked around, and I didn't find anything that could have cut me. But it really killed me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to go out tonight." A quizzical look swept over Lenny's face. He told Janet how glad he was that the injury had not affected their evening together. But all through the movie they went to, he kept thinking about the strange mishap and connecting it with his own accident with the frame. Later in the evening, Janet and Lenny entered the bar and all heads turned. They sat at a table and tried to ignore the attention. A few burly men walked over to Janet's table to suggest that perhaps she could have a better time with them. Janet seized Lenny's hand and said she was quite happy with her present companion. Lenny was a bit flustered at the men but hardly surprised, given Janet's overwhelming beauty. What did surprise Lenny was the number of women who came over and propositioned him. Apparently they had decided that Janet must be on to something. Lenny also turned them down, but not before he had been swathed in Essence Of Ego. Twenty-two years of nothing, Lenny thought, and now this! Once again Janet and Lenny found ecstasy in each other's arms, and again Lenny woke up smiling. Then he remembered Janet's cut. It seemed crazy, but... Stealthily he got up, went to his chest of drawers, and pulled out his framed centerfold. He looked at it, then looked at Janet, then back at the frame. The cut seemed to be in the same place along Janet's body as it was along the framed centerfold. But how in the world could... "What are you doing, sweetie?" inquired a groggy voice. "What? Oh, uh, nothing," stuttered Lenny to an awakening Janet. "I was just looking at an old photo of mine. Nothing important." Unthinkingly, he flung it out an open window, where it beaned a dog who was making a surprise deposit on Lenny's lawn. "Ooh, I suddenly got such a headache," Janet moaned. That morning, he kissed Janet goodbye and waved as she drove off. Then he quickly searched the lawn for the centerfold he had discarded. He found the photo, but not before stepping in the dog's gift. Inside, he washed himself off and contemplated the centerfold. All these things happening to the centerfold and then to Janet. It had to be some crazy coincidence. but still... Lenny couldn't resist a final test. He gingerly removed the photo from the frame and, with a black marking pen, he drew a medium-sized dot resembling a birthmark on Miss November's left thigh. That evening, Lenny met Janet. "You know, weird things are happening to me lately. I found a big black mark on my thigh this morning," Janet said. "I thought maybe it was a sign of some disease, but my doctor checked me over and said I was in perfect health. He must really think I'm a case these days." Lenny smirked. Back at his apartment, Lenny kept Janet waiting briefly as he rushed into the bedroom and slammed the door. Grinning over the centerfold, he ran a steady finger along the outline of Miss November's body. Then he put the photo away, nonchalantly strolled back into the front room, and was fairly pounced upon by Janet. Alas, it was to be the last truly satisfying night of sex they would have together. As the weeks wore on, the novelty of sex with Janet simply wore thin for Lenny. It began to seem as though they had nothing in common. Lenny, a college graduate, quickly grew tired of Janet's modest conversation. And now whenever they went into the bar, Lenny was no longer so eager to dismiss the comely beauties who vied for his attention. Why settle for just one, Lenny thought, when all this variety awaits me? Janet, on the other hand, had grown increasingly fond of Lenny, and a look of desperation clouded her face whenever one of these women approached Lenny. Sure, she could probaby have nearly anyone she wanted, too, but she had fallen in love with a seemingly modest man -- modest until now, anyway. What, she wanted to know, had happened to the Lenny she once knew? What, indeed? Previous memories of lonely nights dismissed themselves from Lenny's mind, as he contemplated many women's offers to be bathed in precious oils. This clinging Janet was getting to be quite a burden on him. Just how could he get rid of her for good? But of course! Why hadn't he thought of it before? As he sat alone one afternoon, the answer came to him in a flash. He quickly removed the centerfold from its frame and then pulled a butane lighter from his pocket. He took one last look at the memories of so many years of fantasies (not to mention the last few weeks) that were about to turn into ash. The lighter clicked. And clicked. And clicked. These damn disposable lighters, Lenny thought -- why now, of all times? Suddenly he felt a strange sensation in his feet, as though they were falling asleep. Then a fierce pain moved up his entire body. Lenny screamed before he disintegrated into ash. In his afterlife, Lenny must surely have rued the day that he had sent his photo into the singles magazine to which Janet subscribed -- just as much as he surely hated her for draining the butaned liquid from his lighter into hers. All's fair in love and war, Janet reasoned.