DJ & Jay Ch. 04

Tasha found herself powerless to move past where she stood. She froze. The wind was whipping around her ears, and she was highly aware of how far up they were, and how far down it would be if she fell. Since she was a child, she'd had nightmares that she knew many people did—of falling and falling, never hitting, but sure that any second her body would be broken on the earth. She also dreamed of flying, which was pure animal pleasure. The two were like two sides to the same coin.

John stood limned in the dimming light, one hip leaned casually against the railing. Tasha wondered if he ever thought about what would happen if his lost his balance. "Well, are you gonna come look?" She took one slow step, then another, wanting to be brave, wanting to be with John, wondering why he had to have a thing for bridges, of all things.

"This is 1,200 feet above town," John told her. "The drop is straight down. You probably didn't notice, but we drove under this earlier. Look, you can see the road."

Tasha still wasn't near enough to see anything. John was getting impatient. He walked over to her and steered her to railing, facing her straight into the chasm and pointing to a spot nearly directly below them, where he wanted her to look.

The rails weren't nearly thick enough for Tasha's taste. She felt totally vulnerable. John was up against the back of her, which she found exciting, but he was also pressing her even further forward, even to the point of leaning forward over the void. Totally unable to speak, she just nodded, hoping that would make him happy.

Apparently it did. "You know why I took you up here?" John asked.

She decided to throw a little attitude, scared stiff of not. "Yeah, to impress me with the car, pretend to throw me off this bridge till I'm scared enough to piss myself, and then fuck me. Right? Am I right?"

John seemed at a loss for words. Maybe no one had ever called his bluff before. Finally he came back with, "Yeah, that's exactly it. You're really that scared huh?" And he bent her over further, till her feet nearly came off their platform.

Tasha screamed, and John laughed. "Go ahead, scream, get it out of your system. I've got ya. You're not going to fall."

That said, John zipped his jumper down as far as he could reach, still holding Tasha around the waist. With the heavy padded nylon out of the way, she could feel his erection against her ass. It was not unexpected, but she still didn't care for his choice of venue. Not at all. Here she was, dangling a quarter mile above the ground, no one knew where she was and this man she'd had a secret crush on for years was turning into a real prick. Well, if she couldn't get the knight on the white horse, she was at least going to get a good fuck out of the deal.

"Yeah, ok fine. You'd better not drop me. I know what you want; you know what I want. This bridge thing sucks, John, if I can be so bold as to tell you, so why don't you whip it out and do your thing and get me the hell back to town?"

"Oh, but it's not just my thing, baby," John said softly into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "It's 'way more intense in an extreme setting, didn't anyone ever teach you that? If you're not walking on the edge of fear, then it's not good sex."

"Oh yeah? Where I come from, they say any sex is better than no sex."

She hadn't really meant it as a joke but all of a sudden John hauled her back and started to laugh.

"They also say bad sex is better than no sex." That only made him chortle harder. Tasha was getting pissed off. She crossed her arms and glared. Did he really expect her to hang off a bridge while he fucked her?

"Ok, you've convinced me, no-sex girl," he gasped. "I'm sorry; I can see you were really scared. I just have this penchant for vertigo. It's like a fetish. I forget not everyone does. Come here now; let's go over by my car."

Just as he had bent her over the railing a few minutes before, John bent her over his front fender, pulling aside her clothes.

"Now you're gonna get it," he said, low in his throat.

"Well, then, give it go me, "Tasha egged him on. By then she was naked from the waist down, or her pants were down around her knees anyway. John had unhooked her bra. His big hands were squeezing and massaging her breasts as he pushed his cock against her woman-flesh. When he did enter her, it was very quickly and with force. Tasha cried out, her voice lost in the wind. She arched her back to take it all; he was slightly larger than average but so hard there was no bend at all to his shaft. John thrust into her maybe a dozen times, and blew his wad. She felt semen hit her cervix and begin to drip down. What else, she couldn't believe it was over that fast. But John proved her wrong.

"Don't worry; I'm just getting started." He kept on thrusting and didn't go soft at all, like she'd expected. He slowed on his timing till he was barely moving at all, drawing his sticky cock out a inch at a time, then pushing it back into her, over and over. His fingers traced all the lines and curves of her torso very delicately; that in itself made Tasha's body quiver. She wanted… she wanted… to cum, to cum hard, soon. After his maddeningly slow discovery of her upper body, one of John's hands dipped lower, reaching for her nether lips. He continued to thrust in and out of her, speeding up imperceptively. When he touched her clit, she ground back into him. Her hips began to move of their own accord, in a circular motion, and she moaned. It seemed to be a signal to John. He went back to his original rhythm, rocking her body with fully buried thrusts. He grabbed her around the waist and speared her fiercely, making her howl. She wondered if they looked like a pair of half-dogs, carrying on like that.

John's voice rose as well as he smacked into her backside repeatedly, rude noises issuing from both of them. Tasha could feel his sac drawing up; the hairs on it tickled her sensitive female flesh. Finally, she just let herself go, let herself give it up under his crashing masculinity and she came, moaning in a high-pitched wail. John reamed her three or four more times, grabbing her hair and yanking her head back to bite her throat. For a minute, she wondered wildly if she's happened on one of the undead, but then his hot cum-cream hit her insides and she realized this was a normal human, fetishes aside. She took the time to enjoy it; jet after jet bathed her snatch, filing her. Oh, it felt so good. John Fucking Travolta. Oh, yes, he was.

She didn't really even recall the ride back down.