Quick Release

The tears trail down my cheeks as the song trails off; the last mournful tones slowly fading into silence. Ah, I'm such a sap. I open my eyes to the dank interior of a bar as I quickly wipe my cheeks, hoping that nobody's seen me cry. It's been an okay day, but sometimes I just need to hear sad music to tip me into a place where I can let the frustration out. It's really the only release I have anymore. This bar's always been a place where I can come and feel anonymous. For the most part people left me alone, but that didn't stop me from being paranoid about crying in front of a group of strangers - for any reason. It always felt like they'd see it as an open manipulation in order to receive comfort of some sort.

I spot a movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to check it out as a guy casually steps up to the table I'm sitting at, two beers in his hand.

"You alright?" he asks, moving to sit in the booth across from me. Awfully assumptive of him. I frown back at him, annoyed that he's forcing his presence on me when it's not wanted. I cock my head as I look at him, curious. "Why do you care?"

The man, who is actually damned attractive - now that I've had a chance to actually check him out, raises an eyebrow and calmly answers, "Tears usually mean problems." I can feel my expression becoming sour as I mutter, "And what's it to you?" What, is he another 'Mother Theresa'? He really doesn't look the type.

"Looked like you could use an ear," he replies.

I let out a sarcastic laugh. If it's a line, it's a shitty one.

"What're you lookin' for here?" he asks, surprising me.

I'm not sure if he's fucking with me or not, but for some reason I decide to answer honestly. "Some kind of release."

He shrugs and quietly places one of the beers in front of me. I eye it for a moment, then look back over at him. "I don't drink." I explain.

"Why not?" He looks mildly interested in my possible answer. We are, after all, in a bar.

"Don't like the taste." I shoot back.

"When's the last time you tried it?" He asks, leaning back into his seat.

"Many years ago. Hated it then. I'll probably hate it now."

"Never know 'till ya try." He's goading me. He knows that I know he's doing it and he doesn't care. As he smiles, something in his eyes catches me. I feel my heart give a single loud thump as he murmurs, "It'll cure what ails ya."

At a loss for words, I let out a bark of laughter, then pick the beer up. Why am I even bothering? This guy's a just another cocky, nosy prick. And yet - he's taken an interest in some chick he doesn't know from Adam that he's seen getting all emotional in the back booth of a local watering hole. I take a swig, unsurprised to find myself still disgusted with the taste. I grimace and place the beer back on the table. "Yep. Still as shitty as I remember." I grumble, wanting him to leave - but also wanting him to stay. The inner conflict is frustrating. Another irritation to add to the pile. It's getting pretty big of late. I blink as I notice something. He seems interested. When was the last time somebody was honestly interested in me that didn't turn me off entirely? Years. Easily.

He takes a long slow swig then looks me in the eye, his voice becoming a low, husky rumble. "There are other ways to find release, y'know."

Yep. Definitely interested. Still, I want to make sure so that there's no misunderstanding. "Indeed there are." I lean forward, my eyes narrowing. "What exactly are you getting at?"

He smiles - a lazy curve of his lips. A wickedness. His hazel eyes dance as he asks, "When's the last time you got laid?"

Ah, crudity. Such class, going for the conversational money shot so soon after inserting himself into my personal space. Prick. And yet..

"Are you usually this direct?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods and tips the beer back again before replying. "Yep."

Hazel eyes and raven black hair, surprisingly strong features and to top it all off, he's built like a brick shithouse. He's gorgeous, in a rough and tumble sorta way. "I'm sure that a man of your particular distinction doesn't usually have issues finding company in dives like this. So why me?"

He cocks his head at me, placing his beer on the table off to the side. "You usually this evasive?" he asks, not letting it drop.

Something about his tone makes me shiver and before I'm able to stop myself, I blurt out, "Three years." His jaw drops slightly as I add, "And change."

He seems to think about something for a moment before standing up and grabbing my wrist. My pulse leaps as he murmurs, "C'mon."

He pulls me out of the booth and I scramble to collect my iPod, jamming it into a pocket before he pulls me past the bartender, who he nods to as he goes by. His grip isn't painful, but I'm definitely being led. Where the hell is he taking me and why am I not wiping the floor with him? Anybody else who pulled this crap would've pulled back a bloody stump.

"Where are you..?" I ask and he quickly cuts me off.

"Where do you think?" he replies.

We're outside now and it's dark out. I can see the north star clearly as well as the bright curve of the scythe moon high in the canopy of black night. The air smells clean and green and there's a warm, gentle breeze. He leads me over to a large green truck, gently pushing me back up against it.

"Three years? No shit?" he asks. He looks genuinely puzzled.

I look back at him, nodding numbly. I'm not usually this submissive and at the back of my mind, I'm really bothered by it. But a part of me likes it - wants to know just how aggressive he is. How far he'll take it. It's been a long goddamned time and my hormones are now jumping into overdrive.

He leans into me and takes a deep breath. I can see him shiver, feeling the heat of his body against my skin. He releases my wrist, placing his hand on my hip. His breath is hot against my neck now and I can feel his lips on my skin, slowly moving up to just under my ear.

"You gotta lot 'a time to make up for, then." he murmurs.

An intense jolt pounds through my synapses at the sound of his voice. I hear a small cry escape my lips, unable to help it. His hand tightens against my waist and I can hear his breathing becoming rough now. Harsh.

"Jesus." he murmurs softly, placing a hand on my other hip as he pulls back to look at me. His eyes are sharp and glittering as I feel his hands slowly slide up my sides.

"Public or private?" he asks, his voice sounding almost strangled.

Not really knowing what he's asking and finding it difficult to speak, I stammer, "W-what?"

His hands tremble slightly at my sides as he growls, "I can either fuck you right here against the truck, or we can go somewhere. Entirely up to you. You're gettin' fucked either way, though."

His words excite me more than anything previous lovers have said or done in the heat of passion. I can feel my legs buckle and I hear him let out a self-assured chuckle as he pulls me against his body, his mouth - then his teeth - rough against my neck.

"Can't hold back much longer, darlin'. What's it gonna be?"

"Private." I groan, letting out a hiss as he bites down and grinds into me. Something delicious jitters through my synapses and I can hear him let out a whimper of sorts.

Good. We're both gone. He pulls back and growls. "Too late."

Honestly? I couldn't be happier. At this point, it wouldn't matter if this was performance art in an overcrowded concert hall. The only thing that matters is getting naked and getting him inside me - as quickly as possible. Thank god I'm wearing a skirt, I think to myself as I hear him quickly unbuckling and unzipping. I look down between our bodies and let out a strangled cry. He's enormous. How on earth will it all fit?

My panties tear off with a single impressive jerk of his hand. He's done this before. He hefts me in his arms and I wince, bracing for a traumatic entrance. I am both startled and pleased that I'm well lubricated enough for it to be tight, but doable. He feels amazing sliding in and his teeth graze my nipple through my shirt as he presses me down against him. His hands clutch almost painfully at my hips as I feel his pelvis pressing against my ass now. He's finally all the way in and it's literally taking my breath away.

"My god..." I whimper and I hear him growl as he pulls out and slams back in. Stars spark across my vision, it's so goddamned good. Within moments, we're both rutting at full speed - his mouth hot and soft along my skin. I'm clutching at his back, plucking at the flannel shirt he's wearing. It occurs to me that he kinda dresses like a lumberjack before the thought is quickly shoved out of my head at the feeling of a growing liquid heat inside me that's slowly getting stronger as it flows from my pelvis up my torso.

He begins slamming into me harder and the feeling suddenly changes, becoming sharper and bigger as it shakes its way through my body, forcing me to the edge of a place of sensation that I can't remember feeling before. His teeth scrape against the tender skin between my neck and my shoulder and it's becoming an electric pulse now. I feel cold and hot at the same time and as he bites down a white hot rush screams through me and out my mouth as pleasure shakes my body like a hyperactive dog with a sock.

He quickly follows, moaning against my neck, his body trembling as all his synapses fire at once.

Everything becomes bliss and serenity as I feel him slowly start to kiss his way up my neck. When his lips meet mine, I'm more than eager to respond and I'm surprised to find that he's an exquisite kisser. He's so gruff that this seems almost too soft for him. It's an odd combination, but it definitely works for me. He gently nips my lower lip with his teeth and pulls back to look at me, his face shining with a sated grin.

"Now private?" he asks and I nod, laughing now.

Oh yeah. Now private.