Free Truck Stop by Jack Kilborn Page B

a long time.
    Since being out of prison, no one has stepped up to the plate. One came close, until he got a good look at her face and sarcastically demanded she wear two bags over her head, “In case one fell off.” She left him in a Chicago bar with two teeth in his mouth and a broken pelvis.
    But things are definitely looking up. Alex runs her fingernails through Lance’s chest hair, then pinches his nipples. He stirs, glassy eyes focusing, and calls her by a name he knew her by.
    “Hi, Lance. It’s been a long time.”
    Lance tries to move, sees he’s taped to the bed.
    “What’s going on?”
    “Shh.” Alex puts a fingertip to his lips. “No talking, or I’ll gag you. I need a few things from you, Lance. First, I need you to fuck me. Hard. Then, I need to know where your EOD Lieut lives, where he keeps his van, and what kind of toys you boys have in there.”
    “What the hell are you—”
    Alex grabs his ear, jerks his head to the side.
    “I said no talking.”
    He looks terrified, which is a terrific turn-on. Alex wants to kiss him, but doesn’t want to risk being bitten, or worse, rebuffed. Instead she runs her teeth across his neck and nibbles her way down his body, across his chest, to his belly button. He tastes good, like a man, tangy and hot. Alex grabs him, feels that he’s responding even though he’s frightened. This pleases her; she won’t have to use the tadalafil she liberated from the coffee shop guy.
    She moves her head down, holding his cock in both hands, running her tongue up along the side of the shaft. A thought hits her:
Will I be able to function normally?
Half of her face muscles are gone. But when she takes him in her mouth he offers no objections to her technique. And as she lowers her head further, opening her throat, Lance’s hips begin to pump.
    Alex matches his thrusts for several strokes, then releases him, both of them breathing heavy. She’s hot, hot and wet, and she wants to climb on and impale herself. But they had done this dance, many times, in the past. And though Lance may have gotten better since those days, Alex doesn’t want to have to rely on his staying power. She reaches for the nightstand, tears open the bag of rubber bands, and winds a fat one around the base of his dick.
    Lance makes a noise of protest, and Alex gives the rubber band a snap, shutting him up.
    She straddles him, guides him into her, and moves down slowly, deliciously, until she’s filled. Hands on his chest, she begins to raise and lower her hips. Easy at first. No need to rush. At the bottom of each stroke she presses into him, grinding her hips, which makes her gasp with pleasure each time.
    Alex wants to draw it out, to tease herself. But it’s been too long and the rhythm becomes involuntary, unstoppable. She pushes into him, harder, faster, and all too quickly the first spike of orgasm seizes her, building into a large peak that forces a cry, and then spreading to envelope her entire body like a shock wave, prompting a throaty scream that makes her feel whole again.
    Alex doesn’t stop at one. Or two. Or four. She goes at him from many positions, and he’s so into it that by the second hour he’s begging her to undo the rubber band, to let him come. Alex promises she will, and as she rides his face and his probing tongue works her into a frenzy she orgasms a fifth time and almost considers keeping her promise.
    Instead, Alex climbs off the bed, heart hammering and legs shaky, and gives him a gentle pat on the cheek.
    “Jesus, I really needed that.”
    “What about me, babe?” Lance looks so desperate, so pathetic. He
wants
her, even though she’s a hideous freak.
    “Consider it payback for all the times when you got yours and I didn’t get mine. Now it’s time to move on to the second part of the evening. If you tell me what I need to know, I promise I won’t kill your wife and family. Hell, you may even live through this, if Jack is fast enough.”
    Lance stares at her,