Thursday, March 19, 2009


Something in the dangerous tone of a post over at the steamy Pocket Secrets brought my character Maria to mind, so here is an excerpt to give you a feel for her. Some of you will probably recognize my inspiration, and I'll confess, I've been a big Pixies fan from day 1. My hope is that my homage is not too blasphemous.

Our first night together also involved my first experience with grand theft auto. No, not the video game. My friend Tony and I had been out roaming around on another Friday night. Two single guys in their twenties hoping against hope to hook up with some women. Sometime around midnight, amid the smoke and noise of the bar we were in, Maria prowled on into my life. She was with her cousin, Yolanda: Latina knockout, leading cause of wet dreams during our high school years. Yolanda exuded sexuality. When she walked by men of any age lost all of their thoughts.

Now Maria. Maria sent chills up one's spine with the way she walked. She wasn't a bombshell like her cousin, but she had a presence about her that put me in a state. She was a tall, strong woman, a little solid around the hips. She stood at about six feet, and she carried herself like a predator, swinging her shoulders as she loped into the room. I remember she was wearing a tight, spaghetti-string tank top within which her breasts danced. Maria just seemed completely at home in her body, unconcerned with whatever anyone else thought. I was conscious of the other guys watching them head for us, but I didn't really hope for too much.

"Hey," Yolanda said. "Remember Maria? It's her first day home."

"First day home" turned out to translate to "first day on the outside". At exactly eighteen she'd been sent up the river for arson. No time off for good behavior, this girl. Right guy at the right time, perhaps, on the day she returned to the neighborhood inspired, and with four years of thirst. She was happy to see everyone again, and crushed her body to me in a good strong hug, and soon we were laughing uncontrollably at her stories over another round.

Drunk as hell the four of us swerved out onto San Pablo in Tony's battered old Chevelle. Tony speeding down E 14th, Maria leaning out the window to feel the wind in her hair. "Fuck yeah! Faster, Tony! Floor it!"

Before long it was Maria behind the wheel. And damn, was that exciting, as long as near-death experiences turn you on. If Tony hadn't had his hands up Yolanda's skirt in the back seat he might have saved his car, but I doubt it.

continue...I was laughing my head off watching her. She was inspiring. I don't know if it was love at that point, yet, but it was a foregone conclusion.

The poor old Chevelle just couldn't keep up, though. Something broke in the front end when she brutally popped it over a raised divider, and we wound up leaving it with it's side slammed into a dumpster. Tony was fucking pissed. Maria was laughing her head off, and Yolanda was taking it in stride, plastering herself to his side. What could he do? Maria was an uncontrollable force. We were walking down the dark sidewalk recounting our recent close shaves, when Maria turned to me and put her hands on my shoulders.

"Damn, that was fun," she said, her dark brown eyes flashing. "That was so fucking good."

Then she pushed me against he wall and locked her lips with mine. I staggered back as this girl poured passion into me with a kiss I did not know could exist. It was like she fed on me. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through her as she crushed her chest into me. Her strong hands kneaded my shoulders as she focused her complete attention on our coupling.

She broke off the kiss as fast as it had begun, leaving me slumped against the wall.

"Fuck, man," she said, striding down the block. "We need another car."

"Damn, Maria," Tony said, "how many can you trash in one night?"

Maria wasn't listening, though. She was headed into the mini mall parking lot, trying door handles.

I glanced over at Yolanda on the trunk of a car with her legs wrapped around Tony. They couldn't have gotten much closer together with clothes on. She took a minute from her business to look over at me.

I followed Maria, not so sure I liked this. There were people coming and going, and the lot was only about at third full, not providing that many cars for cover.

"Yes!" came Maria's voice. "Got one."

"Maria!" I hissed, close behind her. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're damn right," said Yolanda, now close at hand again. Maria was wedged under the dashboard at this point.

"I can't see a thing," Maria said, reaching her hand out. "Give me your lighter, Bobby."

I knew it was a bad idea, but how was I ever going to refuse her anything? I put it in her hand, and she soon was yanking at wires under there.

"You don't know what the fuck you're doing, do you?" Yolanda said. "You think you're some kind of hot shit car thief?"

"Shut up. I heard a lot of things on the inside. This shit's not so hard. Fuck." Sparks shot out. "Somebody hold the lighter. Come on."

So there I was. Wedged under the dash of a seventy-six Impala with one woman like no other. She tossed her black hair back and looked up at me for the moment it took to flash me a smile of pure joy. I let my weight rest on her round, full hip while she messed with the wires.

"Fuck." She shorted something again and sparks popped in our faces. I reached up and pulled the ignition wire down for her.

"Got it this time," she said, and the engine turned over. I jammed my hand on the accelerator and the car roared to life. She screamed and kissed me again, eyes flashing, then pushed me up and got behind the wheel.

"Come on," she called to the others. "Let's go."

But Tony and Yolanda had other things in mind by now. "No way," Yolanda said, "We're walking."

Maria didn't take a second to think about it. She slammed her foot down and we took off, fishtailing as we headed onto the street.

To say that she liked fast cars is an understatement. A lot of girls liked to ride around in their boyfriend's car, but Maria loved to feel them surge at her own command.

She thrashed that one but good. We blazed across town, taking out garbage cans, side swiping parked cars, whatever she could do for a thrill. She screeched to a halt in a liquor store parking lot. She turned to me, with fire in her eyes, her wide mouth in a giant grin.

"Damn! It's so good to be out again." She crossed her fists over her breasts and hugged herself. "Alive!"

She launched herself at me and we kissed passionately. We groped and pawed at each other. I roughly kneaded the soft flesh of her tit and she moaned and kissed me deeper. Her hands were at my belt, and before I knew it she was going down on me right there, with the neon light from the liquor store bathing her black hair with colourful highlights.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," she moaned as she slurped on my hard cock. She devoured me, lost in the pleasure of sucking my cock. I slipped my hand along her back and down her pants. She rearranged herself on the bench seat to let me get at her pussy.

I ran my fingers over her mound. Her full lips were covered with a soft fuzz of hair. Her inner lips were peeking out, wet and swollen. I pressed my middle finger forward and it effortlessly slipped inside. She started pushing against my hand as she worked my dick in and out of her mouth. She gripped my shaft with a saliva coated fist and fucked me with her mouth.

I went for her clit, and rubbed her sloppy, open snatch with several fingers. Rapidly I rubbed it in circles. Her wanton moaning and hungry slurping sent me over the edge, and I blasted into her with my cum.

Maria swallowed the first few spurts, and then lifted her head back, taking the next in her face. She looked up into my eyes, still stroking my slippery cock in her hand. My next shot caught her under the chin, raking across her neck. Another, and another burst forth and landed on her neck and upper chest.

When my orgasm had subsided, she sat back against the other door and licked my cum off her hand. There was cum on her cheek, neck and chest, dripping down the curve of her breasts. Her black tank top had twisted to the side, showing most of one tit. My cum ran down over its curve into a jailhouse tattoo, which consisted of a big, gothic number "13".

She spread her legs and rubbed her pussy through her pants. "Damn," she said, "four years with no cock. I sure hope you can keep up with what I need."

With that she straightened her shirt, wiped some of the cum off her face and neck with her hand, and then got out of the car whiping her hand on her pants. I sat there, dumbstruck, knowing I would do anything for more of this girl.

A moment later I snapped out of it to the sound of yelling. I looked up to see her running out of the store with a six-pack in her hand, two guys from the store running after her.

Maria jumped into the car and stepped on it again, screaming a torrent of abuse out the window at the guys all the while. We peeled out of the parking lot with her laughing like a wild woman. Exactly like a wild woman.


  1. Makes me think of the quote, "Well behaved women rarely make history".

    I'm going for notorious.

  2. She sounds like someone I'd love to meet, and go down on.