Jack

“YOU LIKE THAT?” JACK GRUNTED harshly against her ear, holding her down on the bed and thrusting into her from behind, hard and fast. “This what you wanted?”

“Yes, yes… oh God!” The hot little toy underneath him cried out, her vocalizations reminiscent of every porn movie he’d ever seen.

She was an eight and a half, for sure. Maybe even a nine. Great tits, tall with long legs, just the way he liked them. And best of all, horny as fuck and ready to get her pussy drilled with little to no small talk necessary.

The bed creaked underneath them as Jack plowed himself in and out of her, his hands gripping her hips roughly, pulling her back against him to meet each brutal thrust.

“You’re so hot for it. Been teasing me with this pussy all fucking night, haven’t you?” He slapped her ass hard, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Talking dirty always got him going, especially when it was reciprocated. “You want more? You want to come all over my cock again?”

“Yes! More, harder!” She was begging him for it, reckless and out of control, taking his relentless impact and each slap with loud moans, bucking wildly against him.

He reached underneath her so he could rub her clit and make her come again, as he pushed inside of her with deep and powerful strokes. He could tell she was close. Nothing he wanted more than to push her over the edge, feel her hot body tremble underneath him, lose control as he drilled her into the fucking mattress.

If there was one thing Jack Turner knew, it was how to get a woman off and make her come harder than she ever had. Just a talent he’d developed over many years of practice.

He looked down at her long, dark hair spread out around her, strands of it sticking to the sweat glistening on her back. The lap dance she had given him at the strip club earlier in the night had been the catalyst to this encounter. Nothing turned him on more than nailing a hot little slut like this one.

“Oh my God, yes! Fuck me harder! That big cock feels so good,” she panted beneath him. She cried out loudly as an orgasm ripped through her.

Hearing those words and feeling her convulse around his cock was enough to push Jack over the edge as well. He came, hard inside the condom, groaning and thrusting deep inside of her.

“Fuck!” He growled, as his pleasure culminated in an orgasm that seemed to rob him of the ability to think clearly for a moment.

After the intense feeling had subsided, he pulled out of her and flipped onto his back. He lay there for a few moments, catching his breath and staring at the peeling paint on her ceiling.

Her apartment was a fucking shithole. He was surprised that it wasn’t nicer. She was the hottest stripper in the whole damn club. He would have thought that she would make enough to be able to afford a decent place. But then again, he didn’t know anything about her situation.

Honestly, he didn’t care. He was there for the sex. That was it.

He got up and went into her tiny bathroom where he disposed of the condom and then quickly rinsed off in her shower. The water pressure was weak as he lathered her scent off of his skin.

Back in her room he reached for his clothes to get dressed.

“So do you want to get together again sometime?” The girl stared admiringly at the well-defined muscles of his chest, arms and abs as she spoke.

Between six years in the Marines and the past six years spending several hours every week in the gym, his body was ripped, every inch hard, chiseled male perfection.

He shook his head and answered her honestly. “Probably not.”

He glanced at her, unable to remember her name. The sex had been good, but not particularly memorable. He wouldn’t be interested in seeing her again.

That was the thing about Jack. Good wasn’t enough to warrant a repeat performance. Only the ones that blew his mind could compel him to want to get together again.

“Why not?” She sat up in bed, her impressive breasts drawing his attention as she lifted her arm to sweep her long hair off her shoulders.

He didn’t answer her as he pulled his jeans on. He knew where this was going. Next up would be the fucking questions. Don’t you want to see me again? Do you have a girlfriend?

He had gotten what he wanted, given her what she wanted, and now he was ready to go. He’d been perfectly clear that this was a one-night deal. But no matter how upfront he was, some girls seemed to think he was going to change his mind once he’d sampled their extra-special snatch. Only thing was, Jack had fucked his way through so many unbelievably hot women, he was nearly impossible to impress.

“So, do you have a girlfriend? Or maybe a wife?” She moved across the rumpled comforter on her knees toward the foot of the bed where he was pulling a dark t-shirt over his head.

“I didn’t come over here for conversation,” Jack said shortly. “If you want to give that mouth a workout I’ve got something else you can do with it besides talk.”

She reached for him and toyed with the button on his jeans. “Oh yeah?”

She pulled the zipper down and pressed her face against the front of his boxer briefs, where his cock was already hard again.

He pulled it out and rubbed the thick head against her lips. He grabbed the back of her head, his fingers yanking her hair slightly.

His voice was rough when he spoke. “You won’t be able to talk so much with my dick stuffed in there.”

“Mmmm…” she moaned, opening her lips for him.

He shoved himself into her mouth with a groan as she enthusiastically pleasured him, her tongue and lips enjoying every rock-hard inch.

“Damn, you know what you’re doing, don’t you? Fuck yeah… that’s good,” Jack growled, pumping himself in and out of her experienced mouth, his fingers finding her pussy and rubbing her clit as she sucked him off.

Instinct. Raw. Sexual. That peak that felt so good. Working the girl up to it and getting there himself. Each as critical to the experience as the other. It was all he wanted with her. Or with any woman for that matter.

A few minutes later he had finished and was zipping his jeans back up. He lost interest in her and made a quick exit, ready to get the fuck out of there.

In the dark, quiet parking lot, he fired up his Harley Davidson, the initial roar of the bike amplified in the stillness of the night. The noise simmered to a rumble as he took off across the asphalt. He inhaled deeply, letting the salty sea air invade his lungs.

He made his way back to his beach house, trying to push down the memory that he’d spent the past month avoiding. He’d spent most nights drinking and fucking, trying to keep his mind off of it, but as soon as he came down from the rush of pussy, and the alcohol that numbed everything started to wear off, the weight settled heavy on his shoulders again.

Watching Gus bleed out as he’d tried and failed to save his friend had been excruciating. But it hadn’t been the first time he’d watched someone he cared about die in agony. Only this time he wasn’t a helpless kid, strapped upside down in the backseat of a mangled car.

Losing Gus? That was his fault, and he knew it. If he’d gotten done clearing that warehouse just a couple of minutes sooner, he would have been there when that shot rang out. He was sure he could have done something to stop the horror of what had happened.

He parked his bike in front of his beach cottage, which he’d refurbished himself four years ago on a prime oceanfront spot. It had been in such bad condition, the owners were practically giving it away.

He had spent countless weekends here, working his ass off for hours, turning the neglected, run-down shack into something truly special and unique. Sometimes his buddies had come down to help him. Chris and Sean mostly, but also Nick when he had been able to get away.

The house had taken a year to complete, inside and out. He had done it all himself, with help from the guys—demolition, rewiring, plumbing, insulation, floors, kitchen, bathrooms, huge deck overlooking the ocean, everything. Only things he’d paid to have someone else do were the new windows, granite countertops, roof and cedar siding.

But damn they’d had some good times here so far. It had been worth every penny and every second of work. He loved being by the ocean. There wasn’t any place he felt as good. Didn’t matter the season. Even on the coldest winter days he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

He and the guys had brought so many girls back to this place he couldn’t remember half of them. Hot tourists all summer and locals year round, the variety of women was impressive.

He didn’t bother turning on any lights as he entered the house. He headed for the bar and poured whiskey into a tumbler. He opened the door leading to the deck. Cody, his black lab, bolted outside with him.

Sinking into a lounge chair, Jack sipped the drink, staring moodily at the streak of moonlight glittering across the dark waves.

He sighed as his thoughts turned to Gus’s wife and the devastated, shocked look on her face at the funeral. No doubt she had expected many more years together. Not to be left to finish raising their kids alone, and then grow old without the love of her life.

Gus’s two pretty teenage daughters had sobbed as they each held onto one of their mother’s arms. Jack had looked away, staring stonily at the casket. Seeing their pain had made him uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to process that kind of emotion. It was so raw, so intense. Too much.

It was less than an hour until sunrise, so he didn’t bother going to bed. Something about watching the sun come up from beyond the horizon and flooding the world with light soothed him. Even when bad shit happened, a new day was only one sunrise away. Life went on. No point in dwelling on the past.