Fate Interrupted

Dean could feel himself going soft. Petrified, he closed his eyes and imagined he was on top of Gina, her silky brown hair sprawled out across the cream-colored pillow beneath her. The last thing he wanted was for word to get out he was a limp dick. He wasn't. But the combination of alcohol and Megan's obnoxious cries of ecstasy worked against him, so he gritted his teeth and dug in deeper, trying to rebuild before it was too late. Megan responded in kind, pressing her head into the pillow and screaming even louder, jerking him from his thoughts. He cringed and slowed his roll, trying to spare the sweet elderly woman in the unit above him a sleepless Saturday night.

Megan grabbed a fistful of his swept back bangs and yanked hard. "Come on, you can do better than that."

The anger flashing across her sweaty face gave Dean the creeps. Between the condom and her wetness he could barely feel her. He dropped his head into her shoulder, cigarette smoke and hair spray clinging to her long blond locks, and closed his eyes. Gina grinned at him. Her hair was long and smelled like honeysuckle. She slowly unbuttoned her silk blouse, exposing the firmest pair of breasts he had ever seen.

He felt a twinge down below and lifted himself up, pumping harder before Megan's cries of pleasure could foil his efforts.

"Fuck me harder, asshole!"

Dean's eyes popped open, a heavy frown stealing across his handsome features.

Megan grinned at him like she was getting away with murder. "You better fuck that pussy like you mean it!"

A grimace rolled through him and he obliged just to shut her up, regretting his selection for the night. Along with the smell of sex and sweat, a loud slapping sound filled the room. Waves rushed through Megan's floppy breasts, rippling through them like mini-waterbeds, smacking her in the chin and dropping back to her sternum. She turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut, accepting each angry thrust with another satisfied groan.

He cupped a sweaty hand over her mouth, fearing the old lady upstairs might think he was murdering someone in cold blood and actually call the cops.

Megan thrashed beneath him and beat on his hairy chest with fists of rage. "Get off me you, bastard!"

Dean stopped in his gyrating tracks, his sculpted pecs rising and falling as he studied her twisted face.

She cracked her blue eyes open and blew a strand of hair from her face. "Why are you stopping?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "You just told me to stop. Then you called me a bastard."

She laughed drunkenly and sank back into the pillow. "Stop messing around and start screwing me, Dean."

He shook his head and got back to it, closing his eyes and praying it wasn't too late. He pinned Megan's legs behind his biceps and punched in, slapping privates loud enough for the entire building to hear. In his mind, he lifted Gina onto his desk and ran a hand up her short skirt, caressing the inside of her tanned thigh. He wasn't surprised to find she wasn't wearing any panties. Her wet spot begged him to dip inside and melt into her comforting warmth. Fuck me, Dean, she whispered softly, sweeping a tongue across her raspberry-colored lips. He swept everything on his desk to the floor, unzipped his pants and gave her what she wanted. She tipped her head back and moaned her gratification, her black high heels dangling in the air as he unleashed his fury.

"Let me go, you fucking asshole!"

Dean's eyelids rolled back, bringing Megan into focus and sending Gina into a fine gray mist spiraling up into nothingness. Megan squirmed beneath him with a look of sheer terror blanketing her expression.

"Please!" she pleaded, pushing him off of her. "This isn't right!"

His hips slowed to a stop.

Her glazed over eyes sharpened, drilling him with malice. Her breasts heaved beneath him as she chased her breath. "You stop again and I'll rip your dick off," she whispered through gritted teeth.

His eyebrows dipped together.

She slapped his ass like a horse and made him jump. "Come on, Dean!" she barked. "Quit stopping."

He rolled his eyes and grudgingly cranked up the ole Evinrude again. Megan moaned in time with his gyrating hips. Rolling waves of pleasure burst from her gaping mouth, washing over him with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. Dean flipped off the safety and gave her the business, ready to get this over with while the getting was good.

"Stop!" she panted, slapping a hand against his chest. "I want to suck your dick and taste myself."

His face folded in the dim light. He thought better of it and kept slamming away.

"Tie me up!" she ordered, struggling against him.

He glanced at the alarm clock, guessing he had put on a long enough show and picked up the pace.

She pulled on his bare ass with both hands, greedily demanding every inch he had to offer. "I want you to cum on my tits."

He pressed on and decided to go with the option that would leave his sheets in the best condition. Dean worked faster, the finish line stretching across his mind just up ahead. He threw his head back and grunted, exploding inside the condom and sending stars shooting across his the back of his eyelids.

Megan cried out as she climaxed with him, her body shuddering with pulsating convulsions. She wrapped a hand around his sweaty neck and pulled him to her, milking his cock for every last drop.

Out of politeness, he kissed her on the forehead and rolled over onto his back, dropping his head into his pillow with a long sigh. He would have to steer clear of Milwaukee Street for a while now. That was Megan's haunt.

She turned onto her side to face him with a disturbing grin, her blond hair a tangled mess. She stared at him through dreamy eyes, her hand massaging his softening dick. "That was amazing. I knew you'd have a big dick the moment I saw you."

He chuckled with a frown. "And how'd you know that?"

"Tall guys always have big dicks, just like they always have big feet."

He stretched his lips down in a reverse rainbow and nodded. "Makes sense I guess."

"Let's do it again."

He rubbed his five o'clock shadow, wondering how long it would take her to get dressed and leave. "Maybe later."

She groaned her displeasure, pulling at the curly brown hairs sprouting from his chest. "Next time you should really tie me up though."

A short laugh broke from his dry lips. "I do have a ski mask."

"Ooooh, that could be fun!" she giggled, pulling harder on his hairs "Tape my mouth shut and stuff."

He laughed, fighting the urge to say something like: now, there's an idea! He bit his tongue instead and took a long drink of the lukewarm beer sitting on the nightstand next to him.

She shook her head when he offered her the bottle and got out of bed, her untanned butt cheeks glowing in the dark. The master bath light switched on. She turned in the doorway and stared at him, a nude silhouette more fitting for a strip bar logo on a matchbook cover. "If you want to record that next time with your phone or whatever it's okay by me."

He spit beer out his nose and began coughing.

With a quick laugh, she slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, plunging the bedroom back into darkness. Dean set the bottle down and wiped his nose, inhaling another long breath. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, got up and shuffled into the living room like a drunken zombie, praying Megan would be getting dressed by the time he got back. He ditched the condom in the half bath off the living room and took a leak that came out sideways.

After washing his face and hands, he crept into the kitchen and opened the fridge, bathing his glistening body in a soft glow. He took a long pull from a bottle of water, the cool liquid rushing over his tongue and down his throat, squashing the fire inside. He sighed with satisfaction and figured by now Megan might already have her jeans on and maybe even her bedazzled tank top.

Dean took the water with him, knowing she would need a good drink before her long drive to wherever the hell she called home. She could even take the bottle with her if she wanted. His spirit sank when he rounded the bedroom doorway and saw a shadowy figure huddled beneath the covers in his bed.

"Here ya go," he said, handing her the bottle.

She sat up, the white sheet sliding down her big boobs like a slow moving avalanche. She took an eager drink and wiped water from her top lip with the back of her hand. "If you want to do that again anytime during the night just wake me up. Okay?" She returned the bottle and he forced a smile. Megan dropped back into the bed and shot him a wry grin that stretched his patience. "Anytime you want more practice, I'm here for ya, hotstuff."

The word practice made him wince. He flipped off the master bath light and tripped over her high heels on the way to his side of the bed. Dean set the water on the nightstand and grudgingly climbed back into bed, wondering what she meant by that and how many people she would tell. He stared at the humming ceiling fan above as Megan's arm stretched across his chest. It felt like a sandbag and he wondered what kind of magic trick he would have to pull off to get her to leave in the morning. A long breath quietly slipped from his lips as he cursed Jon under his breath. They should have gone for the two brunettes sitting at the bar.