Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hope you're all liking the story so far!
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
He had just drifted the last turn, missing the curb by mere inches. This race was a little more challenging compared to the amateurs he constantly had to beat. Four cars, four drivers, and the only one that was giving him any real trouble was in a silver 1970 Plymouth road runner.
'Nice car, maybe I'll race him again for it.' He smiled. He loved his job.
I was the last quarter-mile to the finish line, Sam was in the lead with the Plymouth keeping on his ass. He could see he was desperate, the driver turned at just the right angle to where Sam could catch the face...
'A chick, heh, go figure.' He thought with a chuckle. He learned to never under estimate a woman from Mikeala and... strangely enough, that decepticon, Alice.
He eased in front, seeing her try to get right beside him. He let her. Just to get a good look at her.
Damn, was she hot.
The silver hair was the first thing he noticed, shiny, her eyes were a deep reddish black, almost hypnotic. She had a face that was free of blemishes or freckles, she had black lipstick on top of an almost evil, seductive grin. He realized she was wearing a sleeveless dress that barely covered the huge breasts she was close to displaying to all the world. It was tight on her body, almost too tight on her thin waist. Her large womanly hips were situated on the seat in a very... provocative manner. She was, if he was to be cliche, an angel in a demon's skin.
She was pulling in keeping neck-and-neck with the man, she had game.
He liked game.
He gunned the gas petal and saw that the speedometer had hit 210 MPH. This woman was good, she was making him push it.
The finish-line was less than fifty feet away.
Thirty-five...
Twenty...
Ten...
And he hit the brakes, looking for the dude who always had his cell-phone out to capture close races. He grabbed the phone away from the young man and saw the results.
He had one, but by an inch.
Sam looked back to see the woman had just now gotten out of her car. He saw that what the door of her was covering his view of her lower body during the race. The dress was strapless, her legs were long, damn long. He looked lower...
'Who wears stiletto heels in a street race?' He laughed to himself.
Regardless, she was an amazing racer, and a knock-out from head to toe. The Tube Dress helped a little. She was sauntering over to him, smiling mischievously.
"Well handsome, you beat me fair and square; the cash is your's." Her voice was low and sexy, nice combination.
He looked at the wad of 100-dollar bills in her hand, and grasped her wrist before bringing it up to his face and kissing it.
He could play the flirting game.
"Not from such a beautiful lady, I couldn't." He reluctantly released her hand.
"I can see arguing is useless with you, so fine." He thought her saw her eye color becoming a brighter red before dimming down. She retrieved a black purse from her car and dropped the cash back in. He admired the black strip that ran up her dress on either side, before seeing her get back in her car.
He gathered the money the over drivers owned him for the race and walked over to lean on her
window-seal. She looked up at him with a strangely lusty look admiring his body as he did hers'.
"Hey stranger, My names' Meg, what's yours'?"
He grinned and said. "Well, my name is Sam, but call me Blackjack, everybody does."
"Since you didn't accept the cash, I feel horrible for not giving you anything." She had a cute pout, he noted.
She whispered a low message in his ear. "I think I know what to give you, it involves a bed and a lot of movement." The wink was all he needed.
"Sounds good, my place fine?" three years ago, he would have said hit the road, but that's just not him anymore.
She nodded and he opened the door to his mustang concept and climbed in. He soon found himself driving up the dirt road that lead to his house, the gravel doing nothing to make the car rattle. Megs' Plymouth following close behind him until they made it to the open area where the two-bedroom house was. He put the mustang in park and slowly eased out with the silver-clad beauty meeting him half-way with the hottest kiss he ever experienced. Her tongue was like an entity all it's own, fighting his for dominance, to which he won. He felt the woman twitch in his arms, thinking he had won the fight. Grabbing her hand, walking to the door was the hardest walk he ever took, he wanted her now!
The seemingly long journey to his bedroom was a mess of kisses and wandering hands. Despite this, Sam soon laid his platinum-blonde-partner-for-the-night on the king size bed in his room.
She easily pulled his shirt off and took a second to trace the outlines of his defined muscles. He tried to grasped her dress, but her hands grabbed his. She rose off the bed and stood in front of him, one hand to her hip while the other settled on her upper-leg. She reached that hand up to unzip the back of the small material that could barely be considered clothes. It fell to the floor, revealing the sight he had to freeze at seeing. He quickly shook it off and stood up himself, enveloping her in his arms like he would for the rest of the night...
LATER
The light flooded in Sam's bedroom, forcibly making the man wake up from his deep slumber. He reached over, expecting to find a woman beside him, instead, all he found was ruffled sheets.
He sat up slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, after a minute or so, he pulled on a pair of boxers and stumbled into the kitchen.
What he found, was Megs sitting on one of his kitchen chairs, legs crossed, smiling at him.
Well fleshbag, did your recharge go well?" She smiled an evil smile, her voice different than what he remembered.
He recognized it. "Oh shit, Megatron."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
mwahahahahaha! Sam got lucky with Megatron!
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx