Bye Bye Blackberry

Richard cleared his throat and said, "Big M? I'm still hungry." Nifty, Molly thought. Richard had really settled into the meek role which was entirely unlike him. In the script in her head, Molly didn't think Richard would modify his thinking this easily. Molly figured a complete paradigm shift like this was what Richard needed to forget about work.

Molly bit off a corner of a catsup packet and thrust it in Richard's face. "Suck it, bitch." Richard was shocked at first, but soon took the packet and drained it near dry. "Hmm, good job," Molly said. "Do another." He did, faster and more completely than the first.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," Molly said, unable to contain her grin. "You are quite the good sucker." She eased her seat back and motioned to her trouser fly with both her hands. "Suck my gold dick, bitch." Richard looked around the garage. There were no cars to be seen, but anyone could come up here just like they had. Richard looked doubtful. "Suck it bitch," Molly said, "or you'll be sorry." She popped open the button on her trousers.

Richard dropped his head down into her lap. She was puzzled at first, but then she realized he was trying to open her zipper using only his mouth. Molly beamed at the full moon rising over the far off church steeple. Richard was getting into the spirit of the occasion. Good.

She felt him take the gold tiger's tooth into his mouth, and his head bobbed up and down. He pulled her hips gently off the car seat, pulling up on the belly chain. She cooperated and rose in the air slightly, liking the sensation of his drawing her to him. Richard dropped the tiger's tooth from his lips, and there was an electric pulse through Molly as it bounced against her clitoris. Richard's tongue darted into the highest folds of her femininity. No doubt he found some sustenance there, judging from his redoubled efforts. He lapped at her nectar. His tongue slid up and down her crevice, his five o'clock shadow wreaking havoc on her hot button. She put a hand on top of his head and pressed it down, further and further into her. Her hips rose off the car seat, and she fucked his face.

She was so close. So close. Had to stop. Too soon. Not according to script.

Then it hit her. Tonight wasn't only about Richard escaping himself. Molly was going to escape herself too. Only by completely stepping into her role could she enable Richard to escape into his. She lifted his head up by the nape of his neck and then slammed him into her center. Power and freedom coursed through her as she felt no inhibition, no discouragement. She was going to let herself come--here, under the sodium lights, out in the world, as a powerful, selfish man. Oh yes, Molly was the man tonight, and in a man's world, a man came and didn't give a damn about his partner. She put both hands on his head and pounded her hips into his face. A car door slammed on the level below. Its engine started, and from the slow squeal of its wheels she could tell it was leaving the garage. The only indication that Richard even noticed was the increased fury of his tongue. Molly felt the familiar swell rise up in her and she reached out and spanked his ass, urging him on like a trusty steed. And like a trusty steed, he brought her home.

*****

Richard lay back and reclined his seat. He felt otherworldly and completely absent from the universe. With a lazy hand he put the tiger's tooth back in place. Molly shivered when the chain touched her clit. "Drink," she told him. "You earned it."

He did as he was told, and said, "I'm not hungry anymore. I fucking love the taste of you."

"Such a potty mouth." Molly chuckled as she lifted her tush off the seat again, and slid her boxers and trousers back on. Richard took a long pull. Being a gangster's moll was quite relaxing, if also a little frightening. "Hey, Big M, what do you think about skipping the party? My dick is sore from throbbing."

Molly scrambled up from her seat and leapt over the console. She was agile and speedy. Her knee bore down into his aching cock and swollen balls. She grabbed the front-piece of his can-can dress and put her face an inch from his. The pressure increased on his crotch as she found purchase on the dashboard with her wingtip. What had gotten into her? "Your cock is sore? YOUR cock?" She ground her knee deeper into him. "This is MY cock. You got it! My cock, you cunt." Molly pressed her lips to his and he surrendered to her forceful kiss. He groaned out oh Molly, oh Molly. She replied, "My cock, you cunt."

Richard felt so helpless trapped under her. Molly was like a hellcat with vengeance on her mind. Her grip was sure, and her lips were unrelenting. Surrendering, Richard rasped, "I'm YOUR cunt, Molly. I'm your cunt."

Molly pulled away and said, "Oh really?" Her face was a blend of love and ferocity.

On the back seat, inside the wardrobe bag, Richard's Blackberry buzzed. Instinctively, his gaze darted that way. Molly's eyes grew large. "Are you fucking kidding me!" she hissed. Richard looked at her and licked his lips. He could still taste her there. "Get out of the fucking car." Molly started up the engine. Richard started to protest, but she fixed him with a glare. He got out of the car. Molly slammed the Benz into gear and drove off, leaving him there.

Richard watched the car disappear down the parking garage levels. He listened to the squeal of the Benz's wheels along the concrete.

The lights of the town were visible over the cement parapet, and Richard gazed out at them, lost in thought. He felt like the whole town was looking at him, in his can-can costume. He was exposed. Why did he look at the Blackberry? Why couldn't he let it go for one night? That was stupid. The town lights blinked no answer his way. He was miles from home. It was too long to walk, especially in these shoes. Leaning over the parapet, he could see people walking the streets, couples strolling arm-in-arm. He wondered what Molly wanted him to do now.

Richard heard a car coming up the parking garage ramp. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was Molly at the wheel of their Benz, the fedora jauntily askew on her head. She took the hat off and plopped it in her lap.

Molly pulled up along side him, right near the edge of the garage, looking out over the town. The windows were rolled up. Richard waited a bit, and finally tapped on the passenger side window. After a pause, she hit the button and it rolled down. She leaned over the passenger's seat, one hand on the steering wheel.

"Hey, sweetcheeks," Molly said with a smile. "You working tonight?"

Richard leaned over, into the window, his lace-clad ass mooning the town below, and said, "Absolutely not."

Molly made a pout. "Too bad. I thought you were a working girl."

Richard smiled, relieved that Molly wasn't angry. "Oh, that. Well, you know, aren't we all working girls? Wait, are you a cop?"

"Nope," Molly replied. "Quite the opposite." She reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a wad of twenties. "Want to earn a hundred bucks?"

Richard looked at the money. Molly was holding it right over the fedora in her lap. "I'm worth a lot more," he said with a smile. "What do I have to do for a hundred?"

Molly scooted over the console and kissed Richard gently. "Focus on us, for the evening at least. I want one-hundred percent of your attention. A dollar a percent."

"That I can do." Richard was starting to cramp up from bending forward and standing in these shoes. The night wind caressed his exposed ass.

"Good answer," Molly said, and kissed him again, running her hands over his face. "I got another question for you. Who's your daddy?"

"Big M is my daddy." A fire truck sped by in the distance, sirens blaring.

"Another good answer. Shall we go for three? Who's my fucking cunt?" Molly pulled back and cupped his chin in her palm.

Richard muttered out, "I'm your cunt. And I want to fuck you."

"Potty mouth," Molly said. Her hand lifted his chin, gently pushing his head up against the top of the window frame. She hit the window button, and the window rose, pinning his head in place, but not cutting off his breath. He couldn't pull out of the window. "That's sweet," Molly said, "but it's ME that'll be fucking YOU. Yeah, baby, fucking you hard, my sweet cunt."

Richard noticed the hat wasn't falling from her lap. Pinned as he was, he watched as Molly got out of the driver's side, engaged the child safety locks so he couldn't open the window, and tossed her fedora on the seat. What had been holding the hat in place? A huge, purple cock jutted out from her trousers. Richard watched Molly through the driver's open window as she put generous dollops of lube on it, stroking herself like a pervert in a peep show. Richard's eyes darted around crazily, but no one was in sight. Behind him, though, he was exposed to the entire town.

*****

Molly knew she was off script, but her zeal was uncontainable. Drunk on the flush of power. Molly stood there in her gangster suit, purple cock jutting out in the open air, her wingtips solid on the concrete, and felt more powerful than ever. When Richard had blown her little gold dick, she had felt amazingly strong, but this far surpassed that.

So this was what it was like to strut around with a fat cock. Molly liked the weapon of mass destruction stabbing out from her vuh-jay-jay. Her purple cock was double-ended, so each time she stroked it she sent a jolt up her dripping pussy. This was power. This was a man's world. Her world now. This was a man's everyday experience. No wonder they liked it so much.

Molly licked her lips. She was liking it, too.

Her wingtips echoed through the parking garage as she walked around the Benz. The autumn air blew freely. Richard's legs were spread, his ankles quivered in the high heel shoes. Molly stepped up behind Richard and flipped the rear of his skirt up. Richard's hands were splayed across the car roof.

Molly squatted down and kissed the cheeks of his ass. The lace tickled her lips. She stood up and moved next to him, putting her lips on his neck. "Do I have your attention now?" she asked.

"Most definitely."

"Want to earn a hundred bucks?"

"Not sure."

"Hmm. I could walk home and leave you here like this." Molly didn't wait for an answer. She went back behind Richard, squatted down once more, her fat cock bouncing between her toned, strong thighs, and began kissing his ass again. Molly ran her tongue into the crack of his ass, but the lace panties were so tight, she couldn't penetrate. She pulled them down in the back, exposing his hairy cheeks, but still constraining his junk, and slowly applied her tongue to his cherry hole. She darted her tongue inside, not crazy about the taste, but suffused with arousal over the act. Plus, she was drunk on power. Besides, she was asking him to do far worse. She was able to get her tongue pretty far up, and she slooshed it around. Over the night sounds of the town wafting into the parking garage, she heard Richard moan.

Molly stood up, and her purple cock bounced against his gartered leg. She slipped her middle finger in his butthole. His torso shuddered. Stretching forward, she wiped her tongue on his neck, kissed him there, and then, "Who's your daddy?"

"You are."

"Want to earn a hundred bucks, whore?" She worked her finger side to side. Richard nodded his head inside the car. "I can't hear you. Who's my fucking cunt?"

"I'm your fucking cunt," Richard whispered. "Fuck me Big M. Fuck me hard. Make me give you all my attention."

Molly beamed with satisfaction. "I love you so much, Richard," she whispered as she kissed his neck once more. Then she moved behind him, looking down at his trapped and helpless body, skirt high, ass exposed, legs in stockings, heels splayed, and she put both her hands on his hips. Molly gripped him as hard as she could. She wanted to leave handprint bruises on him.

She eased her purple penis inside his quivering ass, a quarter inch at a time. He struggled at first, bucking his hips, but he must have been afraid to scream because they were out in the open, kinda. Molly loved that he struggled. It made her feel stronger. Not only did it feed her feeling of ultimate power, but it worked the other end of the dildo inside of her, up and down. Her eyes rolled up inside their sockets. The blood drained from her head.

Eventually Richard relaxed enough that she could push the well-lubed penis all the way in. She took her hands off his hips and reached forward, clutching his shoulders. Her pelvis worked her penis in and out of him, slowly, and she pinched his shoulders, pulling herself in. Her torso writhed with an in-and-out motion, as potent and persistent as the ocean surf. Richard gripped the roof of the car with a crushing fervor.

Once she found her rhythm, Molly ran her hands down his sides, casting her head back, and fucked with abandon. She was a Nor'easter now, a raging, furious, virile storm crashing to shore. From just beneath her waist shot out a power that could move the world. When she got to the tops of the stockings, she looked down and noticed Richard's knees were bent, and he was pushing his hips back in rhythm with her.

"Split you in two...I will..you cock-hungry whore," Molly said. She finished each thrust now with a grind against his ass. Richard's fingers reached out, stretching so straight they bowed backwards. "Swallow my awesome cock with your insatiable cunt." Molly scraped her nails down his back, and slapped his ass with her open palm. Ride 'em cowgirl!

On a lower level of the parking lot, someone else started their car, and Richard's body convulsed in wild spasms. Molly realized what that meant, and she worked her body up and down, having been on the cusp the whole time. They came together. She fell forward onto his back.

When Molly tucked Richard back into his seat, she noticed he had come inside the lace panties, which had never been pulled off his cock and balls. They were utterly soiled with doilied gobs of cum.

Molly sat down in the driver's seat, eased her purple cock out of herself, almost setting off another eruption in doing so. She slid it into the map pocket on the hind-side of Richard's bucket seat. Richard lay back, utterly spent, and completely inside himself, figuratively, almost as she had been inside of him, literally, moments before. Molly smiled with the thought that she had turned him inside-out. She liked the man's world.

Molly tossed the hundred dollars into Richard's lap. "You're a good fuck, bitch. You earned it."

Richard picked up the money, counted it, folded it, and tucked it in his purse, clicking the purse shut. Molly started the car, barely trusting her quivering legs with the driving.

"Do you have a spare pair of panties?" Richard asked. "Maybe we should go home and clean up before the party."

Molly put a hand on Richard's leg. "I adore you, you know that?" He cuddled up alongside her. "No. No spare panties. No cleaning up. I want you to smell like the fucking whore you are at that party." Richard didn't argue. He was full of nothing but surrender now. Molly didn't believe she had ever loved and admired him more.

*****

The Thomas's party was in full swing when they got there. The liquor had been flowing, and the dancing had started. It being a relatively mild night, the party spilled out to the brick patio off the kitchen, around the pool.

"What?" Bruce Thomas said, "No Harem Girl?" His wife, Bethany, elbowed him in the ribs.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Molly said. "Was I a Harem Girl last year? I can hardly remember. But look, I brought you a can-can girl. Cute, huh?"

Bruce replied, "Cute is one word."

Richard shrugged and said, "I do the best with what I've got."

"Can you give us a can-can dance?" Bruce asked.

"Not in these shoes," Richard replied. Bethany, who wore a toga, put her arm through Richard's and said to her husband, "Leave him alone, Bruce. He's a good sport."

"He IS a good sport," Molly seconded, with a wink.

Bethany put her other arm through Molly's and led them down the hall. The coat closet was open, and it was brightly lit, with a stool and a camera inside. "First things first. You guys are so late, you're going to have to catch up. Who wants to go in the confessional, and who wants to start on the jack-o-lantern?"

"I tell you what," Molly said, eyeing the MTV-style confessional. "We'd both like to go in the confessional, if you'll shut the camera off."

Bethany laughed and said to Molly, "You men, always one thing on your mind. I'll decide for you two. Molly, go confess. We'll be showing all the confessions at midnight."

Richard watched Molly go into the confessional. Before she shut the door, she shoved her hand down her pants and must have played with her gold dick, for only him to see. What was she going to confess? He looked around the room. All of their friends were there. Richard suffered through catcalls and propositions. He gave his golfing buddy the finger, but that was a mistake, because his golfing buddy rejoined, "Is that an invite?"

Richard walked with Bethany through the crowded kitchen, where couples were bobbing for apples, and then they went onto the patio. Richard could smell the dried cum wafting up from his groin. Was it a Tell-Tale Heart thing, or could others smell it?

Bethany led Richard to the patio table, where a few pumpkins were left, but mostly it was a pulpy pumpkin crime scene, where seeds and rinds were all that remained of the murder victims.

Bethany rested a hand on Richard's rear as she told him the rules of the game. "This year," she said, "you can only use a plastic knife to make your jack-o-lantern. We'll vote on the winners later." Richard had apparently gotten to use to his rear being so inviting, he didn't even flinch from Bethany's touch. It was rather flattering. "Tuck your skirt under you when you sit, dear," she said. Richard sat down, chastising himself for being filthy minded. Molly had him completely sexualized.

Charlotte Minnetti was tossed in the pool, and Richard watched her flail about. She was okay, though. Her flapper dress was another matter.

Bethany kissed Richard's cheek and said softly, "You're a dirty girl, Richard." She sat down on the bench next to him, but with her back to the table, so that they were face to face. She put a hand on his stockinged knee. "You're a dirty, dirty girl." She sniffed deeply and smiled. "Sexy, but dirty."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Richard replied.

Bethany sniffed twice, and smiled. "Give a Roman emperor a kiss, and I'll keep your secret." She slid her hand up and down his leg. Richard sensed a dilemma, but there was nothing wrong about a party kiss. He leaned forward and pursed his lips. She kissed him, slipping her tongue across his lips.

"Easy there, Emperor Bethany," Richard said. "I have a knife." Richard held up the plastic picnic knife he had to carve the pumpkin with.

"Ooh," Bethany said with a smile. "Saucy girl, with spunk." She sniffed once more. "Yes, definitely with spunk. I'll leave you to your pumpkin now." Bethany stood up. "By the way, Molly has your lipstick all over the fly of her trousers, you dirty girl."

Richard watched Molly walk over to grab a towel for the drenched flapper. Whoops. Tell tale lipstick on her fly. Richard hoped that didn't make the confessional. He got to work on their pumpkin.

*****

Molly finished up her "confession" and turned off the camera, but sat in the closet for a little while, thinking and resting. She sat on the stool with her legs spread, as she imagined a man would, and she fingered her gold dick a bit more. Molly still felt power radiate from between her legs.

The door opened, and June Smathers, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, came part-way into the closet. The Seven Year Itch costume worked for June, particularly since he hair was already platinum blonde. "Ooh," June said. "Pardon me." June was a bit tipsy.