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From: DG <dionysian1@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASS/M} Celeste's #1 for April: "Blood and Sand" by DG [2/3] (MF,Mf,rom,viol)
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========================================================
The following piece of fiction contains strong sexual
content and is meant to be read only by adults. If you
are not at least 18 years old, or if you are offended by
this type of material, please do not read any further.
========================================================
"Blood and Sand"
by DG (Dionysian1)
+++ Part Two +++
The transit bus ground to a stop at the curb, and Lissa Tilo
hoisted her book bag over her shoulder, pushed open the front door
of the District 7 Public Library, and walked out into the sticky
summer heat. Almost immediately, she could feel her polyester
school uniform start to stick to her skin. Lissa was a strikingly
beautiful girl with smooth skin the color of honey and sensual
features that reflected her Latina heritage. A little shorter
than average, she had a ripe, womanly body that made her look
older than her seventeen years. Although the school uniform was
designed to be conservative and proper, it clung to her curves in
a way that men couldn't help noticing.
She climbed onto the waiting bus, which was air conditioned
but still uncomfortably warm, and plopped down in an empty seat
near the front.
The female driver closed the door and pulled away from the
curb. "How you doin', today?" she asked Lissa, who was a regular
passenger.
"Only four weeks of school, and I'm already burned out. Don't
know if I can take another year of that place."
"I hear you," said the driver. "You hang in there, honey. At
least it's Friday, right?"
"Yeah, thank God for that."
Lissa was starting her senior year at Our Lady of Peace, a
strict all-girls high school run by nuns. Every day after school
she went to the library and spent a few hours doing homework
before going home, a grueling regimen enforced by her mother. All
she had to do was survive one more year, keeping her grades up and
staying out of trouble, and her mother's dream would finally come
true. Lissa, the youngest of five children, would be the first
person in her family to go to college.
There were nine stops between the library and the corner of
Idlewood Avenue and Cesar Chavez Drive, a little over five miles,
but in socioeconomic terms the distance was a lot farther. The
houses got smaller and shabbier, the businesses became less and
less prosperous, and the cars got older and rustier. By the time
Lissa got off the bus, deep in the barrio, most of the storefronts
were boarded up and the street corners were covered with spray-
painted graffiti - deceptively cheerful scribblings that carved up
the neighborhood into fiercely guarded enclaves.
To Lissa the neighborhood was neither good nor bad. It was
where she had grown up, where she belonged, and as she walked home
from the bus stop it never would have occurred to her to be
afraid.
At one point a shiny black car with custom, low-ride wheels
slowed down to match her pace, and the three grim young men inside
eyed her knowingly, their heads bobbing to the traditional Mexican
music of El Tigres del Norte. The song was one of Lissa's
favorites, a romantic ballad about a man who will fight any odds
to win the heart of the woman he loves. Without slowing down or
looking at them, she sang along with the chorus, tossing back her
long hair and letting her expressive face take on a harrowed,
soulful look. The boys laughed in appreciation, white teeth
flashing in their dark faces, and the driver gave her a thumbs-up.
Then the car sped up and out of sight.
Lissa went around to the back of her small stucco house. Her
mother was in the kitchen, standing over the stove in an apron,
and she opened the back door when Lissa rapped on the glass.
"Hi Mama." Lissa gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Hello my baby," said her mother in her heavily accented
English. "How was the school today?"
"Boring. I mean, it was OK, I guess. No tests at least."
She went upstairs to her bedroom, tossed her bookbag in the
corner with a thud, and then shut and locked the door. As usual,
the first thing she did was take off her uniform. The
uncomfortable black shoes, the white socks, the dowdy knee-length
plaid skirt, and the white button-down blouse with the stupid
little Peter Pan collar all ended up in a pile on the floor. Then
she took off her plain white bra, releasing her full, round
breasts, and stretched her arms up over head, enjoying the sudden
feeling of freedom. Wearing just her panties, she lay down on her
bed with a sigh.
Later tonight she was going out to the beach to see her half-
brother Chico fight, and she was planning to change into something
casual and sexy. But first she would take a nice, cool shower.
She smiled up at the ceiling. But before *that*...
She pushed down her panties and took them off, and spread her
legs, enjoying the feel of the cool slippery sheets against her
bare skin. Humming the romantic Tigres song to herself, she put
her hand between her legs and closed her eyes, thinking about the
three boys in the car.
Lissa had started masturbating a little over a year ago. At
first it was something she did once in a while in the shower, and
it always made her feel guilty and unclean. But the guilt faded
with time, and she started doing it more and more often. Now it
was a necessity - she couldn't stop doing it even if she wanted
to.
Rubbing the palm of her hand over her pussy in a circular
motion, she moved her hips up and down, pretending that one of the
boys from the car was making love to her. What would it feel like
to have a man's cock inside her? Would it feel better than this?
Probably. She wondered what a man's face would look like when he
was doing it to her...would he smile? Or would he grunt and
strain, like he was lifting weights?
She slid her middle finger into her pussy, feeling all the
slippery moisture down there. Sometimes she would daydream about
sex in class, and she would feel a warm tingling in her pussy, and
her panties would develop a damp spot from all the moisture - her
body preparing itself for something that never happened.
Rubbing her finger up and down her slit, she imagined the
driver of the shiny black car lying on top of her, making love to
her. He was smiling, his face a few inches from hers, and his
stiff cock felt so good as it moved in and out of her tight hole.
"Lissa, you're so beautiful," he said. "So sexy..." Then he
clenched his white teeth and wrinkled his handsome forehead and
pumped even harder, and she felt his hot semen coming out, way up
inside her belly.
Her expert finger found the magic spot at the top of her pussy
and rubbed around it with just the right pressure, and her orgasm
started to build - a tingling in her thighs and then a delicious
contraction in her pussy, like a sneeze that teases and teases and
then finally comes.
She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Out of habit,
she put her fingers under her nose and sniffed. Not much smell.
Boys were always talking about fishy smells and tuna, but it
smelled more like a faint whiff of the ocean to Lissa. As she
stood up and reached for her robe, she made a decision. It was
time to lose her virginity.
She mulled it over while she stood in the shower, standing
there with her eyes closed letting the cool water hit her face and
stream down her body. She knew that by keeping her virginity
until the ripe old age of seventeen, she was an oddity. That,
combined with her beauty, meant that all the boys from her
neighborhood were gunning for her. Whoever succeeded would be
guaranteed to blab. Her mother would eventually find out, and that
was a scenario too horrible to contemplate. What she needed was
someone from outside her neighborhood.
*************
Marcella Gomez picked up Lissa in front of her house at seven
thirty. Marcella was twenty, three years older than Lissa, but
Lissa had always been mature for her age and they had been best
friends since before high school. Last year Marcella had gotten
pregnant, and she had dropped out of high school and taken a job
at the big Coca-Cola bottling plant. Lissa's mother was fond of
Marcella and had taken the news pretty hard, even to the extent of
crying at Marcella's baby shower. Lissa wasn't sure what the big
deal was: Marcella had a cute baby girl, a decent job, and her own
car.
"Hi Marce," said Lissa, getting into the passenger side. "You
look great. How's little Rita?" Marcella was wearing a one-piece
pink spandex outfit that fit her body like a second skin.
"Hey Lissa. Never underestimate the squeezing power of
spandex." She patted her round tummy, which hadn't quite
recovered from the baby yet. "Rita is fine, just dropped her off
with my aunt." She accelerated down the street with a roar. "Is
that what you're wearing?" she asked, looking at Lissa's jeans and
loose t-shirt.
"What do you think?" said Lissa. She arched her back and
lifted up her shirt, revealing a black bra top that cupped her
breasts tightly, maximizing her cleavage. "My Mom thinks this is
underwear, you know? I can't just walk out the front door wearing
this."
"Poor baby," laughed Marcella. "Still living with Mama."
Lissa took off the t-shirt and put it in the plastic bag she
had brought with her. "Yeah, for one more year. Don't drive next
to no trucks for a minute, OK?" She kicked off her sandals and
then unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. Then she opened the
bag and took out a short black skirt.
"That's more like it," said Marcella as Lissa put the skirt
on, lifting her butt up off the seat to pull it up past her hips.
"If you got it, you should flaunt it. And girl, you got it.
You're fucking gorgeous, you know that?"
"Uhmmm," said Lissa, carefully applying dark red lipstick to
her generous mouth. People were telling her that a lot lately,
and she hadn't quite figured out how to respond.
They parked on the street and followed the crowd of people
along the path that led down to the beach. Most of them were
young Latinos, and there was as much Spanish being spoken as
English.
"So when are you going to introduce me to Chico?" asked
Marcella. "I think he'd make a perfect boyfriend for me," she
added, only half-joking. "Think how safe I'd feel."
"I told you, I hardly know him," said Lissa. "He's eleven
years older than me, and he don't live at my house." Chico
Hernandez was a feared and respected figure in her neighborhood,
something that was only marginally related to his fighting
ability. Chico was a high-ranking member of the Latin Kings, and
he was rumored to have killed three people.
"Come on Lissa, he's your brother, for God's sake."
"Half-brother. And you know my mother don't allow me to talk
to him." The truth was, Lissa wished she knew Chico better, but
he ignored Lissa almost completely, never giving her more than
just a nod when they passed in the street. Although it was
probably for the best, Lissa still felt vaguely hurt.
"I guess I'll just have to introduce myself," sighed Marcella.
There was a big crowd of people on the beach, bigger than
Lissa had ever seen for a fight. "Let's hurry," she said. "Looks
like they're about to start."
They paid their ten dollars each and pushed their way into the
crowd, and the predominantly male spectators cheerfully allowed
the two attractive, provocatively-dressed girls to reach the
front.
"There's Chico," said Marcella, pointing to the other side of
the open circle of sand. Chico Hernandez was a powerfully built
man of average height, with closely-cropped black hair and hard,
deeply-set eyes. Colorful tattoos on his arms and chest
proclaimed his gang status. The girls stared at him for a few
seconds in silence as he shuffled in place on the sand, throwing
punches and bobbing his head. "He's gonna win, you think?" asked
Marcella.
"The other guy is supposed to be good too," said Lissa.
"That's why there's so many people here. But Chico always wins."
She looked around for the other fighter, then realized he was
standing just a few feet away with his back to them. He was a
tall, well-proportioned white guy with blond hair pulled back in a
ponytail, and he was also throwing punches and weaving from side
to side. He was covered with a glistening sheen of sweat, and
Lissa could see the muscles in his broad back rippling smoothly as
he shadowboxed. A skinny black guy was standing behind him,
rubbing his shoulders.
"Remember, this guy knows how to fight," said the black guy.
"So don't get cocky, you hear me?"
"Have you ever seen me cocky, Mickey?" asked the blond guy.
Something about the way he said it, sort of amused and
exasperated, made Lissa smile.
"Always a first time," said Mickey. "Keep him off with the
jab, use your reach. Keep separated, don't start mixing it up
with him."
"Right," said the blond fighter. He turned around and gave
Mickey a playful jab in the chest, and Lissa noticed that he was
very handsome, with chiseled masculine features. His blue eyes
met hers for just a second, and he smiled at her. She smiled
back, then instantly felt guilty. The guy was fighting her
brother, after all.
An older guy Lissa recognized from other fights walked out
into the middle of the ring with a megaphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen..."
The crowd cheered, and people behind Chico started chanting
"Chico, Chico..." Lissa noticed that the crowd on the other side
of the ring was made up mostly of Latin Kings, and she was glad
she and Marcella had ended up on this side.
With a little smile on his face, Chico motioned them to quiet
down.
"Ladies and gentlemen...We have a special bout for you this
evening, between two undefeated fighters. In the red trunks with
the gold trim, from Anaheim, with a record of five wins and no
losses...Fabian 'El Toro' Barnes!"
Lissa wondered if maybe the blond guy was Latino after all,
with a nickname like "El Toro," although he sure looked white.
Fabian walked out to the middle of the ring and acknowledged the
cheers, which seemed to come mostly from the white college kids.
A blond girl standing next to Lissa was screaming like she was at
a rock concert, and a long-haired guy with a roach hanging from
his lip yelled "Kick his ass, Fabian, kick his ass!"
"In the blue trunks, from Los Angeles, with a record of six
wins and no losses...Carlos 'Chico' Hernandez."
The chant started up again as Chico walked out to face Fabian,
and it was clear that most of the crowd was on his side. The
fighters tapped their gloves together and nodded, and the
organizer blew his whistle and started the fight.
Nothing much happened for a while, the two fighters seemed to
just be feeling each other out. In his other fights Chico usually
just ran up to his opponent and started hammering away at close
range, so Lissa figured he must be worried about this Fabian guy.
Finally Chico started moving in and throwing more punches, but
Fabian just moved back out of the way. The skinny black guy,
Mickey, was yelling out a constant stream of encouragement and
instructions. Since Fabian's arms were longer, Lissa could see
that Chico was going to be at a disadvantage in this style of
fight, and she figured that Mickey had come up with the right
strategy.
The fighters were way over by the other side of the ring, and
the LKs over there started insulting Fabian, calling him a chicken
for running away.
"Chicken!" shouted Marcella, picking up on it. "Stay in one
place and fight like a man!"
Finally Fabian held his ground, and the fighters traded a wild
flurry of punches at close range, causing the crowd to go wild.
Suddenly Fabian staggered back and sat down in a heap.
"Yes!" screamed Marcella.
"Fuck!" screamed Mickey.
Lissa didn't say anything. She was a little bit sad that that
Fabian had lost - he seemed like a cool guy. Then she noticed
that he was getting to his feet and was nodding his head to the
promoter guy, who was holding up two fingers in his face.
"Look, it's not over yet," said Lissa.
"Hah!" said Marcella. "It will be soon."
The organizer motioned for the fighters to continue. Chico
came right back at Fabian, but this time Fabian circled and kept
his distance. Then a whistle blew and Fabian walked over toward
them.
"Are you OK?" asked Mickey.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Fabian was hanging his head, like a
dog that knows he's about to be yelled at.
"What the fuck did you think you were doing? What the fuck
did I tell you?"
"I know, I know." He took a drink of water while Mickey
toweled him off.
"Bring the fight this way, away from those gangsters over
there," said Mickey. Lissa got the impression Mickey had a lot
more he wanted to say, but the whistle blew again and the fighters
went back to the middle of the ring.
The fight started again, and sure enough, Fabian started
luring Chico to their side of the ring. He would throw a couple
of quick punches and then move back, never letting Chico get close
to him. When Lissa got a closer look at Chico, she was surprised
to see that his face was blotched and swollen and that he had a
cut over his right eye.
"Oh my God," said Marcella. "Look at Chico, he's all beat
up."
"I know," said Lissa. "And the other guy looks fine." In
more ways than one, she couldn't help thinking. Fabian threw a
quick jab that went home, and from the closer range Lissa and
Marcella saw Chico's head rock back with the force. Chico tried
to retaliate, but his roundhouse right found nothing but air.
"Damn," said Marcella.
The whistle blew again, and this time Lissa could see some LKs
yelling at Chico while they toweled him off. On their side,
things were calmer.
"Perfect round, Fabes, perfect," said Mickey. "Keep jabbing,
keep moving, work the left eye if you can, it looks like it might
open up."
Fabian just nodded. He was breathing heavily and sweat was
pouring down face. His blond hair was soaked like he'd been
swimming.
"Gonna have to see about getting you in condition," said
Mickey. "It's only round three and you look like you been running
wind sprints in the jungle."
"Ain't gonna be no round four," said Fabian.
"Don't get cocky on me, now."
The whistle blew, and now Chico became even more aggressive,
trying to move in quickly before Fabian could hit him with the
jab. At first it seemed to be working - Fabian kept having to
back up and protect his head with his gloves, and Chico was able
to pound away at his body. The LKs started chanting again.
"You right, blondie - there ain't gonna be no round four!"
shouted Marcella. "Cause you goin' down in three!" Lissa just
watched, feeling oddly ambivalent about the fight. She didn't
really want to see either one of them lose.
Suddenly there was a gasp, and a groan from the crowd on the
other side. After waiting patiently for Chico to lower his guard,
Fabian had thrown a sharp right hook. Expecting the left jab,
Chico had ducked right into it, and now blood was flowing freely
from a nasty gash over his left eye. He pawed at it ineffectively
with his glove, cursing in Spanish.
As Lissa and Marcella watched in horror, Fabian landed punch
after punch, staggering Chico and driving him backwards. Blood
continued to pour out of the cut, covering Chico's face and neck,
and every time a punch landed more blood sprayed out onto the
sand. Chico wasn't even fighting back, and Fabian stopped
punching and seemed to be asking him if he wanted to continue.
"He can't see!" shouted Mickey, jumping up and down. "Jimmy,
you gotta stop the fight, the Mex can't see shit!"
The promoter blew his whistle and ran over to Chico. He took
a close look at the cut and then shook his head.
"That's it!" he shouted, waving his arms. "Fight's over."
There was a collective groan from the crowd, and everyone
started to disperse. A couple of LKs started attending to Chico,
wiping the blood away and putting a piece of white tape over the
cut to staunch the bleeding.
Fabian walked over and said something, probably asking if
Chico was OK, but a couple of big enforcer types pushed him back
rudely. One of them took something out of his pocket, and Lissa
saw the ugly gleam of a knife blade. A circle of LKs started to
form around the blond fighter, and Lissa thought there was going
to be trouble. But Chico said something authoritative and waved
his arms, and the situation was quickly defused.
"Shit, you try to say something nice..." grumbled Fabian as
Mickey unlaced his gloves.
"Forget about it. Come on, let's get out of here, have a
little party," said Mickey. "We got us a nice haul out of this
one, let's hit the West Club."
"Sure, why not." said Fabian. As he walked by, Lissa made eye
contact again and smiled. Fabian smiled back and looked like he
was going to stop, but a bunch of people suddenly came between
them, trying to talk to the victorious fighter, and the moment
passed.
"I saw that," said Marcella. "Don't think I didn't see that.
And after he beat up your brother, too."
"Terrible," agreed Lissa. "But he is cute." She felt
deflated all of a sudden. "So what do you want to do? Go home?"
"No way! It's only nine. Let's go somewhere and dance or
something."
"OK. How about the West Club?"
They looked at each other and both started laughing. "Sounds
like the place where the action is tonight," agreed Marcella.
***********
Lissa took a sip of her dacquiri and wondered what on earth
she had been thinking. She and Marcella had found the West Club
and had gotten in, sweet-talking the guy at the door, and sure
enough, Fabian Barnes was here. In fact, she was looking at him
right now; he was sitting at a corner table with several other
people, including the black guy, Mickey. He was dressed casually
in a clean white t-shirt and black jeans, and he was slouched back
in his seat with that sexy smile on his face, sort of watching the
rest of them and not talking much. There were three women at the
table, all very pretty, and all obviously interested in Fabian.
One of them, a thin redhead wearing a low-cut gold top, was
sitting right next to him, practically in his lap, and staring up
at him like a faithful dog.
"Cheer up," said Marcella. "What did you expect, he'd be all
lonely, sitting in a booth by himself or something?"
Lissa managed a smile. "OK, this was a dumb idea. I'm
sorry."
"Hey, it's a pretty nice place, I'm not complaining. Besides,
we can still have fun - a couple of cute college guys over at the
bar are looking at us."
"They probably think we're cheap hookers."
Marcella laughed. "You gotta think more positive. Expensive
hookers, maybe. Hey - you still want to talk to blondie? Now's
your big chance."
Lissa looked over at the other table. Fabian wasn't there.
"He went to the bathroom. Just go wait by the door and run
into him when he comes out. Give him that sexy south-of-the-
border smile and tell him how much you enjoyed the fight."
Lissa shrugged. It wasn't much of a plan, but at least she
could say she tried. "OK, what the hell." She downed a big sip
of her dacquiri and walked toward the restrooms. Halfway there,
the door opened and Fabian came out. He was heading back to his
table, and Lissa saw she wasn't going to be able to intercept him.
But then he glanced over and saw her, and he stopped and smiled.
Lissa's heart flipped in her chest, and after a moment she managed
to smile back.
"Hey," said Fabian. "Weren't you at the fight?"
Lissa nodded. "Yeah, I was there. You was great." She
cringed at her barrio accent, which always came out when she was
nervous.
"Sure, I remember - you were standing behind Mickey, my
manager. But you and your friend were rooting for the other guy."
He tapped his ear and grinned. "I hear everything when I'm
fighting, it's like I get super senses or something."
Oh that was just terrific. She swallowed, and said "My friend
is a big fan of Chico's. But by the end of the fight I was
rooting for you."
"Really? Thanks, that's cool." His smile was infectious, and
she suddenly felt more at ease. She saw him glance uncertainly
over at his table. Then he said "Hey, do you want to dance? I
mean, if you're not here with your boyfriend or something."
Lissa finally managed to pull off her grade-A smile, and she
cocked her hip and raised her eyebrow. "Sure, as long as you're
not here with your girlfriend or something."
He seemed to understand what she was getting at. "Nope, no
girlfriend. I'm just popular tonight because I'm buying the
drinks, that's all."
He took her onto the crowded floor and they danced one dance.
It wasn't Lissa's favorite music, industrial stuff with a grinding
beat, and Fabian wasn't a great dancer, but it was still a lot of
fun. God, he was handsome. She could feel the jealous looks she
was getting from other women, and she got a discreet thumbs-up and
wink from Marcella, who hadn't wasted any time dragging one of the
college boys onto the dance floor. When the song was over, Fabian
put his hand on her back and said "Come on, let's have a drink.
I'm too beat to dance any more."
They sat down at his table, which was littered with bottles
and glasses. There was no sign of the redhead, and the other
people seemed friendly enough. Fabian said "This is..." and then
looked confused. "Shit, I never got your name, did I?"
Mickey laughed. "You the man, Fabes. Nobody smoother than
you."
"It's Lissa," she said, laughing along with everyone else.
She realized they were all a bit drunk.
"OK everyone, this is Lissa," said Fabian. "She needs to
catch up." He picked up a bottle of tequila and poured two shots.
"You like tequila, Lissa?"
"Um...sure." She watched him as he tossed back the shot, made
a face, and then bit into a lime wedge. She picked up the other
glass a little uncertainly. How bad could it be? She drank it
down, and thought it was the vilest stuff she had ever tasted.
The need for the lime was now obvious. She took the wedge out of
Fabian's hand and bit into it.
"That was disgusting," she said. "Makes me ashamed to be
Mexican."
They all all laughed again. "Show me someone who says they
like the taste of tequila, and I'll show you a liar," said Mickey.
"So why are we drinking it?" asked Fabian. He smiled at
Lissa, showing her he was on her side. "Let's stick to beer."
"Great idea," she said. He continued to look right at her,
and she dropped her eyes self-consciously.
"You're really beautiful, you know that?" he said softly.
"Thank you."
He put his hand on her knee under the table, and she moved her
leg closer to his, letting him know she didn't mind.
"So what do you do, Lissa?"
She blanked out for a second. Naturally Fabian assumed she
was at least twenty-one, and either had a job or was in college.
"I work at the Coca-cola bottling plant," she said.
He seemed pleased, for some reason. "I do landscaping," he
said. "I just started my own business. It's just me right now,
but I'm planning to eventually expand and hire some workers. I
can't beat people up for a living forever."
Lissa realized he was self-conscious about his job, and she
was glad she hadn't said she was in college. "Oh yeah? That's
great - how's the business going?"
He made a wry face. "So-so. I'm making a lot of money from
the beach fighting right now - makes it kinda hard to get
motivated for mowing lawns and trimming hedges. But I think it's
going to work out eventually."
A waitress came over with a tray of beers, and Fabian grabbed
two bottles and handed one to her. Lissa realized she was thirsty,
and after the tequila the beer tasted great. She and Fabian
continued to drink and talk, and the time went by quickly. After
a while the others drifted away, leaving them alone at the table.
There was a little lull in the conversation, and then Fabian
asked "Can I kiss you?"
She nodded, suddenly short of breath. He leaned forward and
kissed her gently and briefly on the lips. They looked at each
other for a second, and then they kissed again, a long delicious
exploring clinch. She opened her mouth a little and they touched
tongues, and licked each other's front teeth. His hand was on the
inside of her thigh now, and it felt warm and heavy as he stroked
her bare skin. She felt the moistness between her legs
developing, and she thought about the decision she had made this
afternoon, about losing her virginity.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marcella hovering
nearby with an amused look on her face. "Um, can you hold on a
sec? I need to talk to my friend."
As she stood up, Fabian gave her ass a discreet squeeze, and
she giggled.
"Having fun?" asked Marcella. "I must say, I'm impressed."
Lissa blushed. "He's really sweet."
"Uh huh, I bet you can't wait to introduce him to your mother.
Listen, I told my aunt I'd pick up the baby by eleven. Do you
still need me to drive you home?"
Behind Marcella, Lissa could see the college boy leaning
against the wall, trying to look unobtrusive. "You're such a
liar, Marcella."
"He needs a ride home, his friend already left," she protested
weakly.
Lissa went back to the table. "That's my ride, and she's
gotta leave now," she told Fabian.
"Don't leave. I'll give you a ride home later."
"You sure?"
"Yep." He put his arm around her and pulled her down next to
him. Lissa waved to Marcella, signalling that she could go.
"I guess I'm in trouble, now," she said to Fabian.
"You sure are," he agreed. He brushed back her hair with the
back of his hand and kissed her neck, making her break out in
goosebumps. She turned to face him, pressing her breasts into his
chest, and kissed him boldly on the lips. She sensed that she had
crossed some sort of line now, and she felt daring and wild. They
kissed passionately for a few minutes, their hands wandering over
each other's bodies, and then Fabian pulled back. She could tell
that he was getting very turned on. For that matter, so was she.
"You want to get out of here now, before we get thrown out for
indecent behavior?" he asked her.
She smiled and nodded.
In the parking lot, Fabian held open the passenger door of a
rusty pickup for her. "Sorry about the wheels," he said. "Lexus
is in the shop."
"That's OK," she giggled. The inside smelled like grass
clippings.
It was a short drive to Fabian's place, and they made the trip
in relative silence. His apartment was small and shabbily
furnished, but clean and neat. Lissa used his bathroom, and when
she came out soft music was playing on a portable boom box and
Fabian was sprawled back on the couch. She sat down next to him,
feeling a little nervous.
"You look tired," she said. "Not surprising, I guess."
"Yeah, the thing about a fight is you use up a lot of nervous
energy before it even starts. I'm always dead beat afterwards."
He ran his hand through her hair and massaged the back of her
neck, and her skin tingled at his touch. She reached up and
traced her finger down his somewhat crooked nose.
"I guess some of your opponents had better luck than the guy
tonight," she teased with a smile. She thought about telling him
that Chico was her half-brother, then decided against it. Too
weird to explain it all now.
"That's for sure," he said. "I was too damn slow to be a pro
fighter. I did OK for a while, then I started fighting some guys
who were really good, and I turned into human punching bag."
She laughed - the boys she knew, with their macho posturing,
wouldn't say something like that in a million years.
"You have a great laugh," he said. He pulled her toward him
and kissed her. "And you're a great kisser. In fact, I bet
everything you do with that mouth is great."
They kissed again, playfully wrestling with their tongues, and
then she felt his hand cup her breast. It startled her a little,
but it felt good, and she said "mmm" through the kiss. He
continued to massage her breast through the tight top, finding her
nipple as it hardened and gently squeezing it between his thumb
and forefinger. Deciding she might as well make it easier for
him, she slid over into his lap, sitting crossways on the couch in
the little hollow between his spread legs.
Fabian placed his hand on the warm, bare skin of her upper
chest, and then he slid it downwards, slowly moving his palm over
the swelling curve of her bosom, sliding her top downward in the
process, until his big hand was covering her bare breast. She
closed her eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating on the
feeling.
"You are so hot," he whispered in her ear.
"You're good at this," she said, thinking of previous fumbling
attempts to get inside her top. She shifted position slightly and
suddenly noticed the jutting bulge of his erection pressing
against her hip. As he continued to fondle her breast, she
pressed herself more firmly against the bulge, grinding her hip
into it, and she heard him draw in his breath.
"Let's go into the bedroom," he said. Before she could
answer, he stood up, cradling her effortlessly in his arms. She
let out a little shriek and laughed, kicking her feet.
"You're so strong!" She felt like a little girl all of a
sudden, all clumsy and awkward, and her chest tightened as she
thought of what was to come. The bedroom was dark, and he laid
her down on the bed and stretched out next to her.
Their lips came together again, and she shuddered as he pressed
the length of his body against hers. His hand roamed down her
back and over her ass, rubbing and squeezing, and then moved
between her thighs.
She shifted slightly, opening her legs just a little, and as
his hand moved upward under her short skirt, she closed her eyes
in anticipation. When his fingers touched the warm mound of her
pussy through her panties, it felt like an electric shock, and she
let out a little moan.
He rubbed her gently, and kissed her again, and it started to
feel very good. Then he took his hand away and sat up and took
off his shirt. She lay there and watched him as he took off his
jeans and his underwear.
"Your turn," he said. He helped her sit up, and then he
reached behind her and unfastened her top, letting it fall off,
and then he unzipped her skirt and worked it down, taking her
panties with it. "You sure know how to take off a woman's
clothes," she said. She tried to sound lighthearted, but her
voice was cracked and raspy.
"Practice, practice," he said.
Her skirt and panties dropped to the floor, and she suddenly
realized she was naked in a strange bed with a man she didn't
really know. This is what I wanted, she thought. Then he pushed
her back on the bed, sprawling next to her, and she could feel the
ridges and planes of his solid body pressing into her. He kissed
her hard, and then his hand was between her legs again, and this
time one of his fingers went right to her hole and pushed its way
up inside her. She closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the
feeling, but her body was tense and it felt more like an
intrusion.
He pulled his finger back out and moved over her, positioning
himself between her legs. Peering down the narrow space between
their bodies, she saw the outline of his hard cock, an angular
shadow that seemed much too large to fit where it was supposed to
go. A twinge of panic formed in her chest as he rubbed the head
up and down her slit and then positioned it at her opening.
"Fabian..." she said.
"What is it baby? Get ready to take it...it's coming. " He
sounded distracted and distant, and the pressure increased as he
began to enter her.
"Just...nothing. Go ahead." She closed her eyes tight and
grunted in faint protest as her pussy was wrenched open wider then
she thought was possible. A burning, swelling pressure inside
her, and then he was lying on top of her, covering her with his
massive body, and she wasn't a virgin any more.
"Damn, you're tight," he said, smiling at her.
"You like?"
He moved his hips slightly, pushing himself in even deeper,
and the sensation made her gasp. "Yeah, I sure do," he told her.
He started really fucking her then, and everything seemed to
happen much too quickly. If he would slow down a little, not push
into her so fast, not so deep...but she didn't say anything, she
just clung to his chest and breathed in short tight gasps, waiting
for it to end. After what seemed like forever, but was in reality
only a few minutes, Fabian groaned in her ear and she sensed
rather than felt his orgasm as he spasmed deep inside her.
He rolled off to the side, and she clung to him, feeling a
desperate need to talk.
"Fabian...was that OK for you? I didn't tell you
before...maybe I should have said...that was like my first time."
No response - nothing but slow, even breathing. She felt a
warm trickling between her thighs as his seed oozed out of her,
and she suddenly felt dirty. And angry.
"Hey! What are you doing? You can't jus' go to sleep like
that, you bastard - wake up!" Fabian grunted and opened his eyes.
"Huh? What's the matter? I told you, I'm tired."
She found the light switch and flooded the room with a painful
burst of illumination. "You gotta give me a ride home. My moth-
... you promised."
He blinked at her like an idiot. "I will - first thing in the
morning. What's the matter with you, anyway?"
"No, not in the morning - I gotta go home tonight. Now."
Her voice was edged with hysteria, and Fabian came fully
awake.
"OK, OK, I'll call you a cab. He dialed a number on the bedside
phone and as she told him her address he repeated it to the
dispatcher.
"Taxi'll be here in five minutes. Did I do something wrong?
Something I said?"
He was looking at her with genuine concern now, his bloodshot
eyes partly hidden behind a tangle of blond hair. His cock lolled
limply between his muscular thighs, harmlessly soft now.
"No, it's not your fault," she said. "It's me."
He took his wallet off the nightstand. It was jammed so full
of bills it would hardly close. "Here, I'll pay for the ride. I
really shouldn't drive right now," he added lamely.
Lissa snorted a sudden laugh. "Yeah, I think maybe you got a
point there." She took the twenty he offered her. As she moved
to put it in her pocket, she remembered she was stark naked.
Suddenly self-conscious, she shut off the light again. "Go back
to sleep," she said. "I'll be fine."
(Concluded in Part Three)
©1998 by DG (dionysian1@hotmail.com)
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