Free The Gun Runner (Mafia Made) by Scott Hildreth

hoping I could at least last longer than she did.
    I needed her to remember it, no differently than I was sure I would. I wanted her to recall the event each and every time she grabbed her purse, saw the black dress, or heard someone mention Saks. I desperately wanted her to feel the exact same way about me that I felt about her.
    I gave her another powerful stroke.
    “Holy...three,” she muttered.
    I released her waist, reached under her right shoulder, and lifted against her until she was standing erect. Wanting more of her than I was getting, I pressed my chest into her back, buried my face in her hair, and inhaled a long deep breath.
    Lilacs , jasmine , and sunshine.
    I pushed her toward the flimsy wall separating our booth from the adjoining room. With her potential purchase wadded up around her torso and her bare ass smashed against my hips, I held her to the wall and slid myself out until the head of my dick was resting against her pussy lips.
    I pressed my mouth to her ear. “Where were we?”
    “You were...fucking...me.”
    “Three? Four? Five? Where were we?”
    “Two,” she lied.
    I grinned. “Ready?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    I dragged my teeth lightly along her neck—from her ear to her shoulder—forcing my throbbing cock into her at the same time. My mouth came to a rest, and I reached into the dress and cupped her breasts in my hands. As I nibbled on her neck and shoulder, I continued fucking her at a steady pace—each stroke penetrating her fully.
    Her tightness gripped my cock like a vise. Each thrust became fractionally easier, inviting me to continue my exploration of her sexual stamina.
    “Two...”
    “Three...”
    I pounded against her forcefully.
    “Fuck. Yes,” she grunted. “Four.”
    “Yes.” She inhaled sharply. “Oh...God...Yes...”
    Her legs began to quiver. She moaned, this time much louder. With her boobs cupped in my hands, I pinched her nipples firmly and began to give her all I had.
    She blubbered until she reached eleven, and finally gave up. The grunting continued until the lights began to dim around us. As the dressing room went completely dark, I felt her tighten around my shaft.
    “I’m going to come inside you,” I moaned into her ear.
    “Oh God. Do it,” she begged.
    I felt my cock swell inside of her at the same time the inner walls of her vagina began to clench against me. Together, as if it were all part of some sexual master plan, we reached climax. Immediately following, her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the bench.
    “Holy shit,” she gasped. “So much for a candlelit room and roses for the first time, huh?”
    “Is that what you wanted?”
    “Hell no. This...” she waved her shaking arm toward me “...this is what I wanted. It’s what I need . Believe me. Good Lord. You’re going to have to carry me out of here. My legs are jelly.”
    All of the lights in the corridor with the exception of two were off, leaving the dressing room with an almost eerie glow. “Just wear that dress out. If we don’t hurry, we’re going to be locked in here.”
    “I don’t think I could figure out how to get it off anyway. You fucked me stupid.”
    I chuckled. “What?”
    “I’m stupid. Like a dumbass. You fucked me senseless.”
    “Maybe that’s what they mean by getting your brains fucked out.”
    “Obviously.”
    She straightened her makeup in her compact mirror and tossed her hair. After gathering her things and removing the tag from the dress, we did our best to straighten ourselves up and look like we had simply missed the announcement that the store was closing.
    We wandered around the store for ten minutes, eventually finding a clerk close to the exit. She appeared to be fifty years old, and had apparently spent her entire income on reconstructive surgery. Her hair hung straight down from her head like strings of white silk. As she noticed us approach, she cocked a hip, tossed her platinum-blond hair to the side, and stared.
    “We got stuck trying on