HAPPY BIRTHDAY WINTERSTALE!
Stephenie Meyer owns these names...We own the right to bend them backwards, forwards, and over our knees.
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"Jesus H. Christ!" Rosie didn't let up on the bitch of a nut, frozen and melted to the post at the same time by battery acid. "Whore!" she called it as she began beating on it with a rubber mallet and flat-head screwdriver.
It was hot as fuck and sweat beaded in gushing trickles down her back, running straight down the path of least resistance into the smile of her ass. Last thing she needed was a raging case of baboon buns.
"Easy there, tiger," Bella called from the office.
"Sonofabitchinbastard!" she cried out as the nut finally saw it her way, and let go, cracking neatly in half. Now she could remove the long dead car battery from the 1980 Ford Granada.
Really? Rose thought to herself. Why not let it die? Seriously? Did old Doc Carlisle really need to hold onto this serious POS? *snort*
"Must have been some piece of ass back in the day."
"What did you say?" Bella asked, still in the office.
"I said, must have been some piece of ass back in the day."
Bella, Rosie's office manager, came in through the dingy doorway grimed up with years of greasy sweaty hands. There wasn't enough Go Jo to clean it off your mitts, or enough Emulso to clean it off the door jamb.
"Be nice to Doc Cullen's pussymobile. I'm pretty sure he knocked off a few cherries in that thing." She held up Doc's key chain with the letters VK dangling from a tarnished gold chain. "What do you think this stands for?" Bella asked.
"Virgin Killer?" Rosie guessed as Bella collapsed against the filthy jamb and howled with laughter.
They were interrupted by the ding ding sound coming from a car rolling over the air line outside the service station Rose owned.
While still holding the flat-head, she walked out of the service door, picking at the black crude underneath her fingernails, to see a man emerging from the back of a dusted out Jeep. He'd obviously been pushing the four-by for some time because, man oh man, that boy was sweating like two bald men fighting over the last bottle of Rogaine at Walmart.
And, my my my... no shirt, Rosie thought to herself. It was tucked into the back of his low-slung, thoroughly destroyed jeans. His platinum skull-and-chevron-style belt buckle contrasted sharply against the backdrop of helios-kissed skin. Scruffy shit kickers peeked out from under his pant legs. Then Rosie's eyes traveled back up. Veins promenaded out underneath skin with a smattering of party pleaser hair brooking it's way up to fade away into Twin V's mirroring her favorite Invicta car logo. She was going to own an Invicta S-1 someday.
Rosie's mouth suddenly ached to do naughty things to his twin V's. Farther up, his abs reminded her of a deep pocket mattress. Her legs quivered a bit as she desperately wanted to jump on his bed... or in his bed. A leather cord encircled his thick neck, and loaded shoulders jarred out wide enough to settle the earth on. And lastly, the stranger had the face of an A & F model and the body of a defensive line footballer.
She immediately wanted to see his little black book tied up tight with a little black ribbon and laid to rest. It was all she could do not to start fanning herself with a shop rag like some Scarlet O'Hara wanna-be. However, her eyes were surely downright feral as they soaked in the sculpture-worthy man-morsel dripping from exertion next to the dust-coated Jeep in front of her shop. She quickly lost herself imagining just what all she'd do to him… in a perfect world.
How she'd take hold of that leather cord around his muscled neck and lead him… *sigh*
He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as she continued devouring him with her hungry gaze. Shooting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Bella's equally appreciative stare trailing caressingly over his sun-soaked figure from her spot in the door to the receptionist's desk, before she glanced at Rose and grinned widely. Quirking an eyebrow as if to ask her what she was waiting for, she thrust her chin forward, to nudge Rosie into action.
Rosie looked back at Mr. Dreamy McOutdoorsman in time to see him look in the open shop door, inhaling sharply when he caught her eye, masculine nostrils flaring seductively before his face broke out in a dazzling smile complete with two crater-like dimples that made her want to explore them with the taut tip of her hot wet tongue. A light tremor quivered down her spine to smolder excruciatingly just behind her satin-covered girlie curls.
Putting every ounce of her desire for this Adonis incarnate in her gaze, she cocked an eyebrow at him and languidly gestured for him to follow her with a single curved finger. She turned on her toes and walked past Ol' Doc Cullen's pussymobile, through the rest of the shop and exited through the rear door leading to her relaxation spot. After a long day contorted over and under cars, nothing beat a long soak in the bubbling hot water of The Grotto. Esme designed the double-large, in-ground hot tub to resemble a jungle hot spring, complete with a veritable riot of greenery and waterfall screening a private nook just big enough for two.
Reaching the edge of the sumptuous, bubbling hot pool, Rosie turned to see her soon-to-be lover following behind her just as he should. A challenge was written all over her face to hide her nervousness from being more forward than she had ever even considered being before - inflated reputation aside. Rose slowly unzipped her denim blue coveralls before shrugging them off her shoulders to fall seductively in a puddle at her feet.
Before her nerve could fail her, she reached behind herself to release her bra strap with a practiced flip, letting it fall to the ground as well. Suddenly grateful for the erotic dance classes Alice had insisted on last fall, Rose hooked her thumbs over the edge of her satin panties and slid them to the ground. Stepping out she kicked off her shoes and slipped into the steaming water.
"It seems I picked the perfect repair shop, Gracie Girl, now didn't I?" the sexy beast of a man murmured, a perfectly wicked glint in his eye.
"I'd say so, Dimples," she purred in return, liking his impromptu name for her just as much as the one she'd thought up for him.
"And here I didn't think I could ever be grateful to have to push my Jeep two miles before spotting a Garage. Granted, now that I have, I can't help thinkin' I'd rather be at your service." Rose hadn't thought she could like his smile any more than she had before… she was wrong.
Before she could do more than blink and try to collect her lust scattered thoughts, he reached behind his head to rub the back of his neck, exposing the perfection of his underarm. Rose lost herself anew in the perfect canyon of muscle and flesh as he completed the motion. So incredibly captivated, she almost didn't notice his other hand as it popped loose the skull and chevron buckle of his belt, before toeing off his shit kickers with practiced ease. The sight penetrated her abstracted mind just in time to appreciate how he peeled off his downright religious jeans. Visions of licking the glowing skin of his thighs through the holes flooded her senses, kicking her respiration up a notch. When the motion revealed his complete lack of underwear, she nearly swooned with desire.
Her breathing could definitely qualify as panting as he moved toward the edge of the pool with leonine grace, muscles rippling powerfully in the sun. Moving back to make him come to her, Rose stopped just shy of the avalanche of water in the rear corner of the pool. He wasted no time approaching her. When he was still an arm's length away he paused, boldly reaching out to trail thick graceful fingers over the flushed skin of her chest -- just where the water left it exposed. If she had been wearing a bra, he would have traced the edge of the cup as it arched over the pert flesh of her breasts.
Between his predatory gaze and the tantalizing electric feel of his barely there caress on her skin, Rose's belly clenched powerfully, leaving her fighting not to give herself away with successive shudders of delight.
"So soft…. Like flower petals in the sun," he crooned as he leaned forward to gently kiss the spot his fingers had just touched. Inhaling deeply between her breasts he groaned a deep vibrating sound that shot straight to Rose's center, before standing upright once again.
Impatience getting the better of her, and noticing the dust, sweat and road grime coating his hair, Rose decided to take matters into her own hands to move this along. Reaching up to grasp Emmett's shoulders, she turned him before walking him backwards until the cascade of water from the falls was pounding down on his wide muscular shoulders. With a flash of his dimples he reached up to work the water through his hair with both hands. Rose quivered as her eyes drank deeply of the sight of his perfectly shaped arms and the hollow where they connected to his torso, savoring the sight before reaching forward to rub his chest under the stream of water, delighting in the feel of the hot firm flesh under her fingers.
With a growl he lunged forward, encasing her in his arms his lips crash into hers, firm and skilled. Ravaging her mouth it was his turn to back her toward the edge of the pool, lifting her up onto the edge, breaking the kiss.
"Delicious," he purred. "Now I'm gonna really taste you," he promised in a voice so sultry it made her belly tighten in anticipation.
Cradling her head he tipped her back onto the heated concrete surrounding the pool, placing blazing kisses down the tundra of her belly before pushing her knees apart, placing a final kiss at the top of her perfectly bare feminine lips. Making a noise of utter desire, he quickly dipped his tongue between her folds, sucking, licking and suckling until she came apart screaming her delight with her fingers buried in thick curls of his head, a sea of black flecked with bright stars nearly overwhelming her sight.
"Oh, my God!" she panted.
"And here I thought my name was Dimples," he smirked.
Growling at him while hiding the smile tugging at her lips, Rose sat up and pointed at the stairs to their left. "Sit," she commanded imperiously. Like the good Southern boy he was, the beef cake on legs nodded his head, and promptly sat on the top step. Stalking toward him she didn't hesitate in climbing onto his lap, feeling the impressive solidity that was him press enticingly into her slick swollen folds.
"Do you want me, baby?"
"Hell yeah. I've wanted nothing else from the moment I saw you eye fucking me."
Giving her no time to react he grasped her hips, then lifted and impaled her on his prodigious cock. Crying out, she grabbed his shoulders before raising herself up again, only to slam herself back down. She quickly began reveling in the way his strong fingers were digging into her pelvis, as she tilted her hips to made sure her clit struck firmly against his curl covered flesh every time their bodies collided.
The abrupt sound of a male throat being cleared jarred Rosalie out of the very intense daydream she had been indulging in. Suddenly aware of her death grip on the flat-head screw driver in her hand, Rose licked her lips, praying there was no drool about to drip off her chin to betray the pornographic tenor of her thoughts.
"I seem to have thrown a rod out on the trails. Any chance you can help me out with that?" he asked, the wicked gleam and dangerously dimpled grin from her fantasy in full force.
Emmett McCarty had never seen a real life pin-up girl in all his twenty-four years. This vision in denim coveralls, messy blond hair hanging in braids under a worn out truckers cap, creamy red lips and smudges of grease on her ripe cheeks were causing the veins leading to his cock to swell and rush enough blood to make him slightly light headed. And the way she was holding the screwdriver in her hands, impulsively sliding it back and forth through her closed fist were eliciting all kinds of dirty fantasies...
"I think I might be able to help you with your rod problem."
Her beautiful blue eyes zeroed in on his johnson. Emmett felt the heat of a god damn blush rise to his cheeks.
What the hell? He thought. Blushing? Dangamighty Em. You've tamed more tawdry cougars than this... then again, they've never been this hot.
"Great, uhh, think you have the parts here?" He rubbed the back of his neck. She made him nervous, and women don't normally do that. Now she was looking at his armpits like she wanted to eat them. Emmett should have been weirded out, but she was so damn sensual he was intrigued, and damn horny.
Her gaze went up over his shoulder slowly to the Jeep. He felt he was being objectified, and his first thought was if that would help with her being kind on the bill and not ripping him off like most mechanics, let her ogle.
"I don't have them here, but I know a guy. Come on in." With that she whipped around, showing him the most solid curves he'd ever been blessed to lay eyes on. The woman was built like an Amazon. All curves and legs and strength and sex.
The upper half of her denim jumpsuit had been slipped out of and hung past her waist, the pants riding low enough on her hips that he caught the faintest glimpse of the black satin edging of her panties. Dayum, he appreciated. Her simple, white wife beater tank clinging to her curves like a second skin made his palms sweat. She pointed to a small waiting area with red vinyl chairs and an assortment of car mags on a black table. He sat down, hoping not to crush his cock in the process, as he seemed very responsive to...
He didn't even know her name. A cute brunette brought him coffee, smiling sweetly. He thanked her and then leaned in conspiratorially. "What's the mechanic's name?"
A mischievous glint stole across those big brown eyes, and she whispered, "Rose, but she likes to be called Rosie, and she's very, very single." Winking, she skittered away on her heels across the icy cement floor of the bays.
Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, he took off in search of the Ravishing Rosie to see if he could work the McCarty charm on her.
Rosie stood behind the service counter, the phone cradled between her cheek and shoulder, tapping a pen in a very agitated manner against the phone book.
"Seriously? Monday?" She caught Emmett's eye to gauge his opinion on the delay. He was ecstatic. Spending a couple days in this po-dunk town meant the possible chance of scoring some time with her. He composed himself and gave her a cool nod.
"Fine, Monday. Parts better be here, Jacob."
She placed the phone on the receiver and looked at him baldly. "Looks like you got some time to kill. I'm just about to close up. How about I take you to the local pub. Charlie rents a few rooms on the third floor, so I can try to hook you up since you are from out of town."
Emmett couldn't believe his luck. While it was annoying that his Jeep had broken down, he'd already forgiven the gods, for they had brought him face to face with the stunning creature before him.
"I think I could use a drink, and I wouldn't mind the company of a beautiful lady either."
Rosalie blushed at his successful attempts to flatter her.
"Let me just lock up, then we can go. Er, uh... I'm sorry, I'm Rosie." She extended her hand out.
"Emmett McCarty. Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am." He said taking her long capable fingers in his palm and placing a kiss on her roughened knuckles.
"Ooh, a nice Southern boy. Tennessee?"
"Yes'm. Tennessee Volunteer all the way."
"Water boy?" she joked.
Em acted wounded, but Rosie saw right through him. His dimples deepened to twin pools of pure sin, and she ached to dip her tongue in to see how decadent they may taste. "Nope, Wide Receiver."
Rosie's eyes traveled down to where his wide receiver was sequestered in its denim cell. Swallowing the sudden rush of saliva, she conceded. "Okay, Mr. Volunteer, let me go get changed, and I'll meet you out front. Give me five minutes."
She rushed into the back office and grabbed her street clothes from the locker. A soft fitted t-shirt, short frayed denim mini, and patent pumps adding already to her considerable height. It was Friday night after all. She looked in the mirror hanging from the wall and pulled her hair out of her braids and ran a brush through it to fall in long waves to mid shoulders. A quick Elvis bath, and she was out the door, meeting up with her Tennessee stranger.
As they walked the short distance to the local pub making small talk, Emmett found himself wondering if he was correctly interpreting the subtle signs Rosalie was giving him. Surely a woman this beautiful has a boyfriend or husband. When they arrived at the pub, Rosalie was all too anxious to show him the rooms Charlie had available. To her non-dismay, Charlie had no rooms available. There was a Moose Lodge meeting in town. Luckily, she rented the whole upper floor of the old brick building.
"What about that drink?" Emmett asked as they ascended the stairs.
"Is that really what you're thirsty for at the moment?" she questioned, in a sultry tone.
Emmett swallowed thickly, his eyes raking over Rosalie's entire body, noticing the black high heels she was wearing. "No ma'am. I don't believe there's anything behind that bar which will quench the undeniable thirst I have right now."
Rosalie watched Emmett's eyes travel her frame and grinned to herself. Damn men are so easy. Thank the lord for slow parts suppliers and black patent leather. This man was all kinds of yummy and she was planning on climbing him like a spider monkey up a tree. Having watched his bod in motion pushing his jeep into her shop -- Rosalie has not been able to stop thinking of the straining muscles and the work out she wanted to give him.
"Come on handsome, I believe we can wet our lips on something up at my place." She practically purred at him. Emmet followed obediently behind, watching the muscles in Rose's calves and ass work as she climbed the stairs in front of him. He gave a low whistle of appreciation at the sight.
"Damn, Miss Rosalie, you are the best looking mechanic I think the world has ever seen," his voice growing huskier at the thought of those heels digging into his back.
They paused in front of a door, and Rose pulled a key out of her cleavage and opened the room. She stood aside to let Emmett enter first, her eyes once again raking over the expanse of his chest as he brushed past her into the simple, clean space. Emmett grinned to himself as he heard the door lock behind them.
Rosalie continued into the room and bumped her hip against Emmett as she passed and headed for the mini fridge next to the TV. Opening up the door -- she grabbed two bottles and peeked over her shoulder, "Cocktail?"
"If you're pouring, I'm drinking," Emmett answered. Rosalie grabbed two plastic cups from the sink, filled them and handed one to Emmett. She strolled over the bed and sat on the edge.
Emmett gulped his drink and felt the hot sting as it went down his throat. His eyes never left Rose's face as she downed her own and met his gaze.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" she huffed. Emmett choked in surprise . "I brought you up here, poured you booze, and I STILL have to make the first move??" She stood quickly, stomped over to Emmett and kissed him hard. Their lips crashed together, and a combined groan filled the space between them. Emmett dropped his plastic cup, grabbed Rosalie around the waist and lifted. Rose wrapped her legs around his hips, and Emmett felt the heels of her black shoes dig at his back.
"You better hold on tight," he growled at her. His mouth started a systematic attack on her skin. His teeth nibbled at Rose's lips and chin. He kissed and nipped across her jaw and down the soft skin of her throat. His hands shifted to her ass and held her up tight to his body. The soft scent of her spurred him on like a hot poker, and his cock pressed against the fly of his pants like a frantic thing dying for air.
Rosalie fought for dominance in their kisses. Her tongue thrust and parried against his, she bit his bottom lip and tugged at his hair. Her legs clamped around his hips, and she pushed herself against the straining erection, her dress having ridden up her hips leaving her panties one of two thin barriers between her damp pussy and Emmett's crotch. They looked like two cats clawing and scratching at each other.
Emmett walked over to the bed and dumped Rose on the mattress. She bounced slightly and looked up at him, lips slightly swollen, cheeks flushed.
"Keep the fucking shoes on," he said before grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it over her head in one motion. Rosalie gasped; quickly recovered herself and yanked the front of Emmett's shirt, sending buttons flying across the room never to be seen again.
As Emmett leaned in to claim her mouth again, Rose pulled on his neck and threw him down. A move worthy of the WWE that allowed her to swing her legs over Emmett's hips so she straddled him on the bed. Emmett chuckled darkly.
"Damn, you are every dream come true aren't you?" he grinned up at her.
"Less talking, more mauling" Rose hissed as she leaned over and bit Emmett's neck.
Licking, sucking, biting and brawling Rose and Emmett worked each other over. Emmett was able to move his arms to his pants and get his belt and fly undone. Rose was kind enough to lift up briefly to assist in pulling them down to his ankles. In return, Emmett grabbed the elastic of Rose's thong and pulled it free from her body in two pieces.
Feigning outrage, Rose lifted herself up and impaled herself on Emmett's cock. The two of them yelled at the contact. Her inner thighs hit his, and he was fully sheathed.
"God! Fuck, yes!" Rose yelled and started to move on Emmett. Her legs pistoning her up and down his shaft, her heels on either side of his knees rubbing the patent leather against the sheen of sweat building on his skin.
Emmett grabbed her hips and added his own thrusting to her efforts. He felt his climax start to build a burning knot in his lower belly as his balls tightened and pulled in close.
"Damn, Rosie, so fucking good," he said through gritted teeth. His effort on holding off on coming starting to show on his face.
Rosalie looked down at his face; she was wild, blushing and fierce. She reached her hand down and started circling her clit furiously. Wanting to join Emmett when the string broke. Her eyes drifted closed and her face clenched as the muscles in her body coiled up to spring.
"Fuck... Emmett, yes, yes," she cried, bouncing and circling as the coil grew tighter within. Emmett could feel the muscles in her pussy start to tighten and flex around his cock.
"I'm coming, Rose!" he bellowed no able to stem the tide any longer. Rose felt his cock twitch inside her and her own climax broke loose. Muscle spasming and shaking her whole body and still she rode up and down until her legs wanted to give out.
Finally she dropped her head against Emmett's chest and listened to his pants as she fought to get her own breathing under control.
After a few moments, Rosalie straightened her spine, stretched her arms over her head and smiled down delightedly. "I heard something! Just listen!"
Surprise laced Emmett's eyes; hearing something could mean anything, a jealous husband, a waking child, a whining pet, an anxious customer. He watched in bewilderment as Rose dismounted his lap and bent to pick up their scattered clothes on the floor.
"I listened to your pants, and they told me a trip through the wash cycle is what they need. If you stay around town anytime at all, you'll know I'm all about meeting a man's needs."
Still nude, Rosalie opened a small closet and revealed a Maytag stackable washer-dryer combo. On top of the washer unit was a basket of laundry, partially filled. Humming to herself, she began to sort through brightly colored plastic bottles and small boxes on the shelving racks screwed to the inside of the door.
"First, we'll pre-treat these black stains with Shout," she muttered, fingering the worn and frayed fabric of his pants with the same degree of intensity she had recently applied to her climax. She sprayed his jeans fervently, rubbed the clear viscous dribbles as they trickled down the denim and stuffed them into the washer. "Warm water wash, cool clear rinse, Gain original scent, a Bounce Outdoor Fresh dryer sheet to finish off. Then fluff and fold."
Plucking the darker clothes from her laundry basket, Rose continued to pulse her pump dispensers and fondle her dampening garments. Not wanting to ignore her guest, who gazed at her quietly from across the small room, his face in the shadows, she winked at him over her shoulder. A released measure of laundry detergent was followed by a gush of water and rumble of power as the washer approached its first plateau. She dropped the top-loader lid, tossed back her long hair, pivoted on her high heels and pressed her bare ass to the twitching machine. "God, cleaning products get me hot. Get over here, Emmett."
However, he only leaned forward in the worn lazy boy recliner, his face emerging from the darkness. A smile slowly graced his face until it touched his eyes, making them twinkle mischievously. He looked like an angel with the soul of a devil peering out from behind his eyes.
It sent a tantalizing thrill down Rose's spine. She marveled at her luck – it had all started like any other ordinary day and then he was there -- in her garage. She had no idea what she ever did to deserve such a hot, muscular and naughty man, but she wasn't about to waste the gift the fates found fit to deliver to her.
"Well?" she said impatiently tapping her right foot. "Are you going to lurk in the shadows or get your fine, firm ass over here and pleasure me?"
"Not so fast, my grease monkey woman," he spoke in a measured tone as if already caught in the fantasy he was about to propose. "I think I will remain here. I want to see you pleasured."
"What did you have in mind?" she asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but her was interest piqued.
"I want to see you use those talented hands to please yourself – while I watch." He growled. "And if I am satisfied your demonstration of self-love – you will be rewarded."
He leaned back into the dimness and wordlessly waited for her response. But she could hear his breathing, knew he was watching, and felt the grin snake its way across her lips as she thought of the power she wielded with her hands.
"Hang on to something, mister, I'm gonna rock… your… world…."
The washing machine behind her began to agitate; Rose leaned back and felt its rhythm – back and forth, back and forth. Closing her eyes, she began to sway her hips side to side in concert with the pulsing mechanical sound.
"Mmmmm," Rose moaned as she began to lose herself in the tempo of the machine and the accelerating respirations emanating from the blackness.
Good clean fun, she thought as she continued to arch her back against the machine making sure Emmett got a full view of her long body. But as she tipped her head back, she caught a glimpse of the pump dispensers. The thought of them spewing their thick, slickening fluid in spurts was so… arousing. As her breathing began to quicken, with the thoughts of what was to come, Rose brought her hands to her neck and let them slowly trail down across her collar bone and over her breasts.
Suddenly turning on her heels to face the noisy machine, she ran her hands over its smooth, cold top before leaning over it, crushing her breasts into its metallic surface. The shock of coolness against her rapidly heating body sent a jolt of tension through her. But the chill thrill was not the effect she was seeking -- it was the groan which escaped Emmett's lips as she gave him full view of her perfectly round-apple ass, undulating provocatively atop two very slender legs in four-inch strappy heels.
As her imagination took over, she pictured her new, muscle-bound boytoy reaching into his relax-fit, worn blue jeans to release his growing member.
She groaned lightly in response to the erotic images filling her mind -- Em's large, rough hands stroking his throbbing cock as he fucked her from behind with his hidden eyes.
Rose leaned harder into the machine, resting her whole upper body on the machine and thrusting her ass out as far as she could . No longer able to resist the tension building in her and eager to claim her reward for a job well done, she ran her hand down the curve of her ass until her fingers slid effortlessly into the wetness between her legs. She began stroking her swollen bud to the rhythm of Emmett's cock pumping in her fantasy.
In the background his breathing hitched but soon their breathing became synchronized.
As the coil in her gut tightened, Rose took her display to another level by slowly dipping a long thin finger into her dripping well. Then another. While in her mind's eye she imagined Emmett nearing his climax, driven into a frenzy by her sultry display and by his overwhelming need to be inside her.
"Oh, God, Rose, finish for me. Let me see you ride it out, baby." Emmett ground out from somewhere behind her.
More than willing to comply to his request, Rose delighted in the next sound she heard: the washer paused before clicking to spin cycle. As the wonderful machine began to rumble, Rose turned to hoist herself upon the twitching, shaking pleasure ride. With any luck, it would be an uneven load she thought.
Roses' brain whirled as the vibrations sent waves of bliss through her -- almost as good as her Hitachi Two-speed Magic Wand!
As if on cue, the washer shifted into its maximum spinning velocity. Rose let out a frantic cry and clamped her hand over her now buzzing slit as all the tension in her body exploded in spasms of release.
"Emmmetttt!" she screamed out in lone ecstasy.
Before she could cross back to reality, Emmett was cradling her in his arms, his bare chest heaving against her.
"Well, baby," she croaked smiling up at him as she lay limp in his firm embrace, "was my performance worthy of an award?"
"Hell, yeah! You've earned yourself one stiff Oscar and two tight Golden Globes."
To emphasize his statement, he lowered his arms slightly, and the tip of his erection poked Rose in the lower back. He winked and flashed his dimples, "Now I just need to know where you would like to go to receive your hard-earned reward?"
Entwined in a lusty embrace, so their knees knocked and pelvises bumped into ever-tightening undulations, Rose and Emmett made it her bedroom.
Barely.
He sniffed at the barley of her hair and flitted his brawny fingers down between her legs, pinching her pussy with two fingers and sliding a third over the opening lips held up like plums filling out a homemade pie.
Pushing him down to the bed, Rose noted, irritably, the creak of the frame with his hefty, muscled, manly body twitching in all the right places. His ass, a ticklish hand hold of cleft muscles, dented the mattress more, calling up other screeches from the vintage pallet.
Wjile he juiced her nipples and sucked at them, bringing them together with powerful hands held to the outside of her glory-mounds, her brow creased in consternation. The shift-wheeze-creak of her bed was unsettling.
Breaking free, Rose rummaged away, underneath. The din of tin and tack and metal clanked as she sought something that was infuriatingly putting Emmett off his game of hide and suck.
Her pendulous nannies swiveled like a goddamn clockwork when she lowered to her knees, not to suck his cock. Bending into origami shapes displaying her every perfect luminous dip and hidden dream, Emmett pounding the bed, knuckled his eyes, stroked his dick and managed out, "What the motherfucking Mary are you doing?"
From beneath the bed, having wedged her naked form half under so one bare thigh, one naked milky breast topped by a bright and carnal glowing nipple, she winked at him and broadly grinned, "Just a squeak, lover. Nothin' a little W-D can't take care off."
He preyed to the poster of Angus Young in his ridiculous tongue-in-cheek English schoolboy uniform.
And glared at the ceiling.
Then focused on the bottom waving at him from between his feet.
And imagined Rose as an English Flower, innocent, and uniformed, unformed and untutored.
Gaddamn notoriously non glam rocker had somethin' right.
Yeah, he thought, his girl was a hard-rocker. Hardcore, and a grease monkey to boot. Sometimes she was just a little bit too anal retentive for his liking. Hmmm, maybe I'd have to loosen up that fine piece of tail with a little deep and dirty slap dick tickle…
Slurping little oily drops to the old fashioned iron bedsprings, she flounced with her rear goading him from his ever-growing figments of fucking her straight up and down as he faked a relaxed stance against the lumpy pillows.
Emmett's dick standing up like a fucking flag mast kind of put paid to his casualness.
Licking those big blousy berry lips she looked at him over her shoulder as she reached into the XXX top drawer of her dresser and pulled out…, "Jesus Fuck on a Fudgesicle! You got more toys than Hef's barely of age slappers!" His eyes bugged out of his head, his dick started trilling to her evil fucking smile simpering promises of lust and an amazing fuck to come.
That, my friends, was a cock cage.
No way in Hell.
Emmett's junk had other ideas… the shaft filled like a villain so all the veins, major and minor, macked up his tightening skin like Tennessee riverbeds. Like a tumble of craggy creek water over wash-stones, cum calamatized his cock until it turned into Purple Mountain's Majesty!
The beast's muscles in his chest, down his abdomen, along the striated valley of his pelvis to giant boner, the ridges upon hills over caves of arms and thighs hardened like glaciers.
Spreading his legs, he sat to and told his woman in no uncertain terms, "You're not gilding this big fat lily," he pushed one wide hand up and down his steaming erection and rejoiced at the black blue stream of her aroused eyes watching his sexy jerking motions, "with a bear cage, babe."
Again, his dick had its own mind and nearly leapt out of his taut grasp to get to her, the chicken coop creation, her mouth, anything.
The look of his bedecked maypole spoke otherwise, with its lilt toward her. But she'd have mercy, this once, and settle for something perhaps a bit less wicked.
She set the chrome and leather clad fencing slowly on the floor, "But I made it especially for you, lover," and swished those peach hips closer to him. Rose was rather proud of the craftsmanship she'd put into the piece that was held with little sought after pin heads and polished leather straps.
Emmett was damn near hypnotized by the swing-swish-swing of her stroll. Probably could've tied him to the bed, denied him head and rode his cock till it was blue, inside the rings of metal, for all he cared at that very moment.
As if she was offering him a mint julep on her grandmomma's porch of a summer evening, all sweet sassy, wide-eyed and innocent – except for the fact she was fucking absolutely nekkid and naughty as all hell with the glimmer of salaciousness in her Navy Blue Angel eyes and salty on her jam-red mouth – she came near enough to slip her hand over his, creamy to sun-burnt brown, small and firm and knowing to suddenly quaking, hungering, linking. They wrapped his long, thick meat in the skin of their combined flesh, and she offered her other palm. He almost didn't look, so focused on the slip-slide like a wet willy being worked in their doubled up fingers.
When he did look, askance, his motions stilled. Hers sped up. His eyes ran from the hand fueling his dick with jizz like petrol to a monster truck. And back to her latest gift.
Gasping, breathing in gusts, he plucked the metallic circlet from the plain of her palm.
Cock ring?
This had Rose written all over it.
Of the same materials and minute qualities displayed in the cage, even her initials were inscribed inside the cuff she wanted to round the base of his stick shift with.
"Yeah." He agreed. Readily, greedily.
With patience and many licks and sucks and simpers to pave the way, Rosalie plimmed his prick with the band until it sat nice and snug against his glans.
Stepping to feet away, she admired her handiwork and his hot fucking cock in its little steel trap.
His foot tapped to the tune of the tug of ejaculate seething inside with no way out.
He wanted her ass and he wanted it now.
Tugging her hand, he made her collapse beside him, stomach and tits down. He stood and positioned and reached for the Gun Oil on the stand. She pushed and hunted and looked for the door oil.
He slapped her hands away. And dolloped drops of lube on his dick and watched her derriere rear up in waiting and wanting.
Two fingers met little resistance, just a nice snug fit, wet with the glide of very skillful caresses.
Her ass backed up as his fingers left. Wanting more of this.
All the while the ring around his cock, nothing like a fucking namby pampy daisy, raised extra hard, super-sized cum up and down with no escape.
He spanked her quality behind until a light flush lit. She'd always looked well hot in pink.
He palmed her cheeks and spread them wide, dipping his piston down to wetness and clit and lips and a nice fixed crevasse. Teasing and dripping, lunging and skipping.
Getting nice and fired up.
When she was spread out, ready, aching, shivering and just waiting, he took her beautiful ass in his two hands and thrust deeply, fully into the ridged clasp. All. The. Way.
A deep-seated hold to her rinds found his fingers locked down. He didn't move, but motioned her onto him. In slow, sexy, circles. In and out.
Her tits popped to the sheets.
He felt them, the silk tips with licked fingers as he stilled. Her hips struggled for more.
He roared and sank inside, standing straight and tall and of pride. Just the featheriest of light touches skimming the backs of her thighs and all that held her to him was his wet cock.
Writhing and wild below, Rose toppled to the mattress, spreading her arms wide in supplication. Then gained her knees, raised her back so it slid over the perspiration of Emmett's hewn chest.
The smattering of his sex hair ate at her buttocks in time with his epic pushes.
The touch of his hair littered across his muscled torso added more frisson to the act of lust they rode upon.
She squealed, he groaned, the bed mimmied, and she reached for the symbolic yellow and blue can with the red nozzle while he dangled more lube over her queenly fucking regal ass. "Oh no, you fucking don't," Emmett grunted with harder faster depraved digs.
Her whimpers overrode the tell-tale knock and heave of her skinny bed.
"You like that?" he rasped into the damp hair planted to her neck, against her ear, and into her mouth.
She yanked him by the goldy-locks just growing back from his crew-cut, bit his jaw and nipped his lips demonically, "You know I fucking do!"
He wanted to come so fucking hard, but his seed was stretching only his balls.
"Let me go, baby," he rasped and begged.
She sat down on him hard, and his eyes buggered out of his, "Oh yeah! Tell me you want me to make this bed screech, honey!"
Sliding off of his weapon, she turned. The flush and rash of sex dimpled every place on her body he'd touched. Lifting the diadem from his dick, kissing his purpling head as blood and sperm rushed back, he felt like the jaws of life had released him.
"On your back." He demanded.
She scooted and opened for him.
He held his dick in hand and lifted her completely from the bed.
It only took three more subterranean drives to freefall over the brink.
His dink jerked.
Her body froze and then lashed on thin air.
That hand, his hand, held her aloft in the space of her orgasm.
Indrawn breath and sweaty flesh flicked them to the bed.
It still groaned.
She eyed the WD-40 again.
Saw him watching her.
Smirking, she told, "What? As Mike Rowe says –It's a Dirty Job, but someone has to do it."
They lay wrapped up in each other's arms, falling in and out of sleep for a few hours. Rosalie awoke with a jolt.
"It wasn't a dream," she muttered as she looked over at the behemoth of a man laying beside her. "Oh, God," she moaned. She wanted him, again.
"Emmett," she whispered, slowly running her hand under the thin cotton sheet that covered them. "Emmett," she purred against his ear as she searched for him, down there.
"Rosalie, please," he urged. "I can't go again. I'm going to be black and blue if we keep this up. I need to catch my breath."
"How about a shower? A nice, warm shower to loosen up our muscles," she asked as she sashayed towards the bathroom. "Coming?" She questioned coyly, looking back over her shoulder while giving him a wink.
"Rosie, your muscles are fine, but a shower does sound nice," he answered, scrambling out of bed behind her.
Once the water was steamy hot they both stepped into the tiled shower together. Slowly they began to wash each other. Starting with a nice scalp massage, working hands down the back, over the chest, down the stomach, along each leg, purposely avoiding the tender places between the legs. Emmett had spent far to much time on Rosalie's tits and now she wanted him more than ever.
"Emmett, if you don't get down on your knees and give me some relief right now, your precious Jeep is going to be missing more than a few parts. Your dick might be black and blue, but your tongue is pink and moist and frankly, could use a little more work."
"We could just talk some more, Rosie."
She glared at him and, before he had a chance to regret his words, her hand collided with the back of his head. Thwack!
"Ouch, Ro! What was that for?"
"This is what your doing..." she mimicked him talking, "...this is what you need to be doing..." and then she made a lewd gesture that shot straight to his cock, and even in it's current fragile, black and blue state he felt himself harden.
Without thinking anymore, he shoved her body against the shower wall and dropped to his knees at her feet. As he gripped one of her long legs and hooked it over his shoulder, he looked over and, in a raspy whisper, said four words that nearly caused her to explode, "Sit on my face."
They finally emerged from the shower an hour later, still not completely sated, but too damn tired to do anything about it at that moment. They collapsed on the nearest flat surface that wasn't a floor, and fell asleep curled around each other, the yin to the other's yang.
The next couple of days were spent learning about one another. Neither wanting to break the spell of their cocoon. Rose was pretty sure she had lost weight during the sexual olympics, and even Emmett was looking a little sucked up himself. They ordered in all their meals, Rose's kitchen left untouched except for the occasional bottle of water from the fridge.
Over the course of the weekend, they discovered how much they had in common. Besides their absolute love of adventuresome quality sex, outdoor sports like fishing, hiking, football. Although they butted heads ferociously over their differences in teams.
"Emmett, Tony Romo is about as hot as it gets! And, his stats..."
"Rosie, they aren't going to the Superbowl."
"I don't care, I ain't no fair weather fan. I've been watching the Cowboys since Tom Landry was their head coach."
Emmett had to concede since obviously there was no way to talk her out of her Romo coma.
Acting like teens, the two lovers made their way back to the Chop Shop, hand in hand.
"I've been meaning to ask you about the name of your garage, I just didn't want to pry, but after what we've done over the weekend..."
"I don't mind. I inherited the shop when my dad died last year."
"Aw, sweetheart, I'm sorry."
"Thank you. It's okay, I do miss him, but I have the best memories right here. I grew up in this shop. My first rattle was a fuel line duct taped at the ends with ball bearings inside." Rosie smiled a small smile. She took out her keys and opened the front door of the shop and inhaled sharply.
"I love the smell of grease and fuel first thing in the morning."
"Can't argue with a fetish like that."
"Oh, I'm sorry, you asked about the name. Back in the day, my dad used to run an illegal chop shop out of here. He got busted and did a stint upstate for a year. Once he got out, he changed the name to The Chop Shop as a kind of a fuck you to the cops in town for giving him up to the Feds."
Just as she finished her story, Jake showed up from his auto parts store with Emmett's Jeep parts. The two men sized each other up before shaking hands. Rosie made a gagging sound and took the box of goodies from Jake.
"Damn men and their testoster-homo tendencies," Rosie mumbled under her breath. Thing cracking her up was Jake was a flaming horn blower. He wasn't trying to get in her pants, he was trying to get in Em's pants. She probably should have tried to warn Emmett, but this was too good for her to pass up.
"Hey, Jakey? Emmett used to be a tight end for Tennessee Volunteers."
"Wide Receiver, Rosie, a... Wide... Receiver."
The light of knowledge dawned bright as Emmett realized Jakey wasn't letting up with the hand shake or how limp wristed the shake really was.
"Rosie, honey, I'm coming to help you. Nice to meet you, Jake."
Jake left rather disappointed, but not without staring longingly as Em walked to the back where Rosie had started to work on his Jeep.
Her ass was popped in the air as she leaned over the side fender to connect the ceiling cherry picker to the engine to lift it out after she loosened the motor mounts.
"Can I help you?"
"Sure, you can go sit over there and look pretty while I do my job."
"C'mon, I know how to work on my engine."
"Fine, if you must. Wrap those chains in the right places and hoist away, big boy."
"How about I wrap you in chains?" Emmett said as he ground his cock into her backside. He was cordially turned on by seeing her in those unisex coveralls.
Rosie thought on it. Bella wouldn't be in for another hour, so they could sneak a little naughty garage nookie in.
Forty-five minutes later, Rosie and Emmett emerged from her office grinning like the cat who ate out the canary. Several hours later, Em's Jeep was road worthy.
The two strangers, brought together by the Chrysler Corporation, parted ways with a heavy sigh.
Rosie turned to walk back into the front office where a smiling and knowing Bella waited at her desk. She plunked down in a dreamy, albeit sad, state of mind on the pleather couch with a crinkly noise wheezing out between the cracks of the cushions.
"Any messages for me, Bella?"
"Just one. Here you go." Bella handed Rosie the While you were out pink paper.
It simply read: 'Rosie--look out the window'.
Out front was Emmett standing in front of his Jeep. Rosie walked out into the blaring sun with her heart in her throat to see if something was wrong.
"I realized I forgot to give you my cell phone number. So when you want to invite me back for next weekend, you'll be able to call me."
"Awfully sure of yourself, linebacker." But her smile gave her away, and Emmett swept her up in a rib-cracking hug and laid the most romantic kiss on a girl Bella had ever seen.
===*^*===
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WINTERSTALE - JENN!! (KICK ASS AUTHOR OF SIRE, 1982, PICK YOUR POISON, HOMECOMING) WE LOVE YOU SO VERY MUCH, YOU MAKE ALL OF OUR DAYS BRIGHTER AND FUNNIER!!
BIG ASS COLLAB BY:
MOI (OF COURSE) - KICK THE TIRES AND LIGHT THE FIRES - VICTORY LANE
VIOLA CORNUTA (WHO ALSO BETA'D THIS MONSTER) PICK YOUR POISON, MAD ABOUT THE BOY
GOLDENMEADOW - DEAD CONFEDERATES, INCARCERATED, YOUTH WITHOUT AGE, LIFE WITHOUT DEATH
ROWANMOON - BROKEN DOLL, LISA'S STORY
FROL - OUR HOUSE, POINT OF LIGHT
JASPERSBRAND - WONDERWALL
TWILITEADDICT - HONEYMOON SUITE, THROUGH THEIR EYES
AMERYMARIE - BAD HABIT
ROSABELLA75 - FORBIDDEN DESIRE
AND
EVIEKINZ (WHO HAS A BIRTHDAY TOMORROW!!) - THE LONG WAY HOME
AND IN SPIRIT - SLOBBER MONKEY AND TWIFANUK - CROSSES TO BARE, AND PIXIEKAT