Pool and Other Recreations
By Adelheide
NC-17
Disclaimer: I just borrowed them for the story, they are owned by Stu Segal Productions
It wasn't his usual place. Hobbes preferred the bar in Chinatown. But
sometimes, when he was looking for a drink and a bit quieter, he would come here. This
place wasn't as nice as China Red, but it was had its own charm. More of a biker bar,
with rough wood floors and low lights. Dark walls were hung with motorcycle and car
memorabilia, all collected, Hobbes discovered, solely by the owner. It was a sizeable
collection and probably worth a lot. Not that anyone was going to walk out with the old
Route 66 sign or the Harley tail pipe. Everything was bolted to the walls, secured with
long screws. Classic and newer rock music always issued from the speakers here. None
of that dance or pop crap. The real stuff. Rolling Stones, Bob Segar, Led Zeppelin, even
Buddy Holly were the artists you heard when you bellied up to the heavy oak bar. The
kind of music you would listen to while sailing down the highway in your '57 Chevy.
Hobbes liked it here. It appealed to his rougher side.
Hobbes was feeling rough about now. This last assignment had been grueling.
And he was ticked off with Fawkes. Hobbes liked the kid. He really did. Fawkes was
the best friend he'd ever had. Hobbes trusted his younger partner with his life. Hobbes
has laid down his life for his partner and Fawkes had returned the favor. Many times
over. But sometimes, the kid annoyed the hell out of him. He bitched about his lot in
life. Not that, deep down, Hobbes could really blame him. Fawkes had gotten a raw
deal. And that was something Hobbes could never forget, because the kid complained
about it. Lately, a lot. And, as understanding as Hobbes tried to be, it got annoying after
a while. This last job had been tough, nerves were frayed, and they had topped the day
with a heated exchange that ended when Hobbes stormed out of the Agency.
He now sat at the huge battered bar, scowling into his draught, musing over the
argument. He and Fawkes would patch things up. They always did. But at the moment,
Hobbes was beat and his mood was dark. He purposely picked this spot. It was as far
from the door as possible. He could see the entire bar from this corner at the end. Half of
the dozen pool tables that lined the wall on this side were in use, balls clacking along
with the murmur of competition. Also, Hobbes could keep his back to a wall here. The
short hall leading to the phones and the john were at his left.
Buzz was behind the bar tonight. A mountain of a man, Buzz shaved his skull but
left a huge bushy moustache and goatee. A pack of cigarettes was always rolled in his T-
shirt sleeve, but Hobbes had never seen him smoke. This was Buzz's place and he tended
to it with gruff benevolence. No one dared pull any shit in here. Buzz was always aware
of what was going on. Arguments were either quietly settled or herded outside. If
someone was stubborn in their hostility, an aged Louisville Slugger tucked under the
register was usually enough to dissuade them. Anyone looking for anything more than a
verbal exchange was discouraged with a Remington double barrel. Buzz didn't care what
happened in the parking lot. But inside, everyone either got along or got the hell out.
"How's it goin' tonight, Bobby?" Buzz asked, his bass voice rumbling out of him,
even though he spoke the question softly.
Hobbes liked Buzz and would normally talk. But tonight he wasn't in the mood.
He shrugged and drained his beer. Buzz silently refilled it and moved away,
understanding that Hobbes needed his peace at the moment. The clatter of a pool break
to Hobbes' left was followed by a shout of dismay. He glanced over. What looked like
two truck drivers watched as a woman straightened from her shot. She'd sunk two solids
out of the break. She smiled at them and moved around the table to line up her next shot.
She leaned over, carefully aligning her cue. Her face was still with concentration. The
cue glided back, then popped forward, impacting the white cue ball and sending an
orange solid hurtling into a pocket. With the shot complete, she glanced up, making eye
contact. She had large dark eyes. She was an older woman, probably closer to 40 than
30. But she was attractive, in a world-weary way. Auburn hair halloed her face and
worn jeans hugged her hips. Also, by bending so low, she'd afforded Hobbes with an
excellent view of her abundant breasts. She cocked an eyebrow in challenge, a smile
tugging at one corner of her mouth. Hobbes looked away quickly, refocusing on his beer.
Whoever she was, she was good at pool. She continued to beat the truckers in
game after game, scooping their money from the edge of the table, folding it, and neatly
tucking into her cleavage. Hobbes listened to the game absently, still brooding about his
fight with Fawkes. There was a flurry of activity at the end of the bar, accompanied by a
high feminine voice. Without lifting his head, Hobbes looked up. A young blonde was
chattering, an animated light in this darkened place. She seemed to be arguing with a
young man who kept trying to take her arm, something she wasn't happy about. Buzz
watched the exchange from his post by the glasses, ready to jump in if he needed to. The
girl yanked her arm away from her frustrated swain. "Get lost, Greg! God! You're so
possessive!"
"Cyndi…" Greg tried, reaching for her arm again. She jerked away again,
staggering. Cyndi was more than a little tipsy.
"No! I've had it with you, Greg. You're such a…such a…" The search for her
words seemed to cause her pain. "Wet blanket!" she finally spat.
Greg got tired of trying to persuade her to come home. Holding up his hands, and
effectively washing them of her, he turned from the bar and headed for the door. Cyndi
watched him leave, huffed, and plopped down on her barstool. "Hey, you," she called to
one of the bartenders. "I need another Cosmopolitan." She reached for her empty glass
and nearly knocked it over. The bartender in question glanced at Buzz, who nodded,
watching the girl. The bartender relieved her of her empty martini glass and soon set
another one, filled with rose liquid, before her. A Cosmopolitan? In this place?
Obviously, Cyndi wasn't a regular.
She giggled over her drink and bopped in her seat. Cyndi scooped up her glass
and drank half in one gulp. Over the rim, she caught sight of Hobbes watching her. She
blinked rapidly and smiled. Hobbes nodded and returned his gaze to the dying head of
his beer. Keeping her in his radar, he felt her collect her things and leave her stool,
approaching him. He didn't look up when she climbed onto the stool just around the
bend in the bar from him, only five feet away. She plunked her drink down a bit too
hard. He was surprised the fragile stem didn't snap.
"Hi!" Cyndi greeted brightly.
Hobbes nodded, glancing up only briefly.
She held out her right hand. "My name's—"
"Cyndi. Yeah, I know."
Cyndi leaned forward, a thick blonde coil of curl falling over one of her blue eyes.
"Oh wow! Are you psychic or something?"
Hobbes tipped his head toward the other end of the bar. "I couldn't help but hear
you and Greg."
At the mention of his name, Cyndi scrunched up her nose, pouting. "Stupid ol'
Greg…" she grumbled. She tossed back the rest of her drink, then held the glass up,
waving for the bartender. Hobbes wondered how long Buzz was going to let her reorder
before he cut her off. Cyndi's cheeks glowed with the fuel of alcohol, her eyes
unnaturally bright. Her bra strap slipped from under her tank top. She struggled to set it
back while still waving her glass.
Buzz trundled to their end of the bar, placing a full glass before her. "Last one,
miss," he thundered gently. When he turned his back to leave, Cyndi stuck out her
tongue. Hobbes sighed and took a pull from his glass.
"So, what's your name?"
"Hobbes. Bobby."
"Hobbes sure is a funny first name."
Was she serious? He glanced up. Cyndi, seeing his expression, burst into
musical giggles. "Got'cha!" Cyndi chuckled and took a swig of her drink. "Nice to
meet you, Bobby."
Hobbes looked at her, really, for the first time. Cyndi was a few years from 30.
She was pretty and perky, all blonde hair and glossy full lips. She was dressed to kill, her
tank top low and tight, her skirt short and equally tight. She batted her eyes at him. He
realized that she was depressing the hell out of him. "Are you here all by yourself?" she
asked, growing somber with concern. He nodded, staring at his beer. "Ohh," she sighed
sadly. "So am I."
The alcohol had robbed her of any subtly she may have had. Hobbes looked up,
finding her wide azure eyes regarding him hopefully. She was pretty. She was bubbly.
Normally, he'd be turning on the charm and orchestrating the evening to end up in her
bed. But she was also shallow and dippy and he wasn't in the mood.
The truckers got tired of losing their money. The redhead strolled over to the bar,
sidling up next to Cyndi. She smiled politely and nodded to each of them, then held up
an arm, flagging Buzz. The big man broke into a large smile and trundled toward her.
"Hey, Jan. How the hell are ya?"
The redhead broke into a grin. "Not too bad, Buzz, my man. How 'bout you?"
Buzz reached across the bar and took her hand, his big paw swallowing her long
slender fingers. "What can I get'cha?"
"A beer would be great."
"Comin' right up." Buzz turned and walked down to the taps.
"In a bottle!" she called after him. "And none of that imported shit!"
Buzz chuckled, the deep rumble burbling up from inside his massive chest. Cyndi
watched this woman, her expression somewhere between dismay and disgust. Disgust
won hands down when next the woman put a cigarette between her lips.
"You're going to smoke?" Cyndi squeaked.
The woman, Jan, pulled a battered Zippo from her pocket and thumbed it to life.
She touched the flame to the end until it glowed, then she snapped the lighter closed. She
took a long drag from the cigarette and blew a plume of smoke over Cyndi's head. The
bitter smell made Hobbes inhale deeply. He used to smoke. Gave it up years ago, when
he noticed that he was getting older and was having trouble catching perps that ran.
"Yup," Jan said to Cyndi.
"Eww!" Cyndi dramatically waved at the smoke. "You know, you can only
smoke in designated areas."
Buzz returned, setting a clear bottle of Miller in front of Jan. He reached under
the bar and produced a chipped ashtray, which he slid to her.
Jan tapped her ash into the ancient glass. "I guess this is designated then."
"You know how bad smoking is for you?"
Jan eyed Cyndi for a minute, mirth tugging at her mouth. "What's your name,
sweetie?"
"Cyndi. With an i."
"Of course it is. Well, Cyndi With An I, do you how bad for you it is to hassle
me when I'm trying to enjoy a beer and a smoke?"
Cyndi tried to determine how much of that was joke and how much threat. She
decided the safe way out. She pivoted her pretty butt on her stool, completely facing
Hobbes. "Where were we?"
Hobbes groaned inwardly. He glanced over her shoulder at Jan, who was
watching them both with detached amusement. He was far more interested in the older
woman for conversation than this bubbly Barbie doll for anything else. "No where that I
know of," he grumbled.
She giggled and scootched closer, placing her hand on his forearm. "We could go
somewhere, if you want."
She was about revenge against Greg far more than she was interested in him and
it was depressing Hobbes even more. He wasn't in the mood to try to win her with
charm. "Cyndi, look…"
"Do you live close? I'm afraid my apartment is way across town. But we could
go there, if you want to."
"Tonight's not a good night for me."
She batted her eyes. "I could make you feel better…"
He pulled his arm free. "No. I don't think so."
She looked stunned as though slapped. Hobbes guessed she wasn't used to being
turned down when she wanted something. Anger slid across her face, making her pretty
features hard and sharp. "You don't know what you passed up, mister," she hissed. She
grabbed her purse, keys, and wrap and prepared to huff away. The alcohol and her heels
conspired against her. She nearly went to the floor trying to climb off her stool. Hobbes
noted that Jan put out a hand to catch her if need be. But Cyndi was able to collect
herself and flounce away, casting one last furious glance at Hobbes before the gloom of
the bar claimed her. Both Hobbes and Jan watched her go.
"You know, I bet she could," Jan remarked.
"Could what?"
Jan turned to him and smiled. She had a wide, warm smile. "Bet she could've
made you feel better. Bet she knows all kinds of tricks."
Hobbes snorted into his beer. While relieved that Cyndi was gone, he wasn't too
sure if he was in the mood for conversation. Not that it seemed to concern Jan. She slid
her beer and ashtray down and took the stool formerly occupied by Cyndi With An I.
"Little girl like that, sex is her currency. She gets what she wants by being good at it."
Hobbes watched her move closer, trying to figure out what she was up to. She
didn't appear to be with anyone. Jan took another pull from her cigarette and blew the
smoke away from him. She took a drink of beer and smiled. "So, who was the fight
with?"
Hobbes started, looking at her with renewed interest…and suspicion. "What
would make you say that?" he asked warily.
"Oh, I dunno. Handsome guy, sitting in a dingy bar all alone, hunched over his
beer, turning down sex with a pretty girl. Looks to me like you lost someone, broke up
with someone, or had a fight with someone."
Perfectly reasonable deductions. Hobbes relaxed a bit. "Yeah, a fight."
"With..?" she prompted, draining her beer and setting the bottle toward the back
edge of the bar.
"My partner," Hobbes murmured morosely.
"Ahh," Jan replied sagely, crushing out her cigarette. "I'm sorry to hear it. What
caused the fight?"
He didn't know why, but Hobbes started talking. "It was a bunch of…little stuff.
Nothing major. He just complains about…" Hobbes caught himself, "his gland" almost
slipping off his lips. "His condition. He can't see the good. He just sees that he's all
caught up in this with no way out. And he complains about it all the time."
Jan was listening to him carefully, trying to glean information from his words.
Surprisingly, the alarm bells didn't go off in Hobbes' head. He prided himself on the fact
that he could sniff out a mole or informant, but he got none of those vibes from her. She
was just a nice woman, listening to him bitch. "When was this fight?"
"Tonight. Right before I came here."
"You haven't tried to talk to him?"
"Not since we fought. And I don't want to go home, because by now he's cooled
down and he won't leave me alone."
"Maybe that's exactly what you need. To talk to him."
Hobbes grumbled and killed the rest in his glass.
"Why don't you go home and take him a nice present? Does he like flowers?"
"Flowers? Why the hell would I buy him flowers?"
"Okay, maybe a nice bottle of wine. You two could sit down, talk things out,
drink some vino, and…" She trailed off, leaving the rest to his imagination.
Realization struck Hobbes like a thunderbolt. "Wait a minute! You think that he
and I..? You think that we're..?" He was having trouble forming words.
"Well, you said he was your partner."
"He's my partner, not my partner! He's… We…"
At least his sputtering was getting through. The light dawned on her face. "You
two work together?"
"Yes!"
"And you two aren't—"
"No! No no no no no! Bobby Hobbes does not climb that particular tree! No sir!
I am 100% about women."
Jan put her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry. The way you
were talking, I thought…"
"You thought I was…that way?"
Jan was losing her battle with the giggles. "I'm sorry, Bobby. The way you were
wording things…and after you turned down that girl. I thought you had a fight with your
lover."
"Lemme tell ya somethin'! Fawkes is a lot of things, but he has never been, nor
will he ever be, my…" It was hard to say the word.
"Lover?"
"That."
"I'm sorry, Bobby." Her voice was strained from her efforts not to laugh.
"I'm all man, sweetheart."
"I guess so."
"No rump rangin' for me."
"Of course."
"And let me say that if I'd wanted to get it on with little Cyndi, there would have
been no problem."
Jan was biting her lips in an attempt to keep still.
"My pole only goes north for the ladies."
She couldn't keep it in anymore. Jan exploded with laughter, tears streaming.
For a moment, Hobbes thought she might be laughing at him. But when she put her hand
over his and wiped her eyes, he could see in their depths that she was just enjoying the
circumstance. She patted his hand and called down the bar for Buzz. "Another round.
On me."
When their beers were replenished, they started talking again. This time, both
were on the same track. They talked for a long time, lingering over beers. Hobbes found
he was comfortable with Jan. While he couldn't talk about himself too much, given his
job, he was able to participate. She laughed at his jokes, the smiles and chuckles of
someone who gets it, not someone who is trying to stroke his ego. Normally, Hobbes
was always on his guard with someone new. You couldn't be too careful in his line of
work. But he got a genuine vibe from Jan. She never pressed or pried when he skimmed
a subject. She didn't ask the kind of questions that set off alarm bells. She was just an
attractive lady who was happy to share his company for the evening.
Hobbes foul mood was lifting. So much that he started noticing things about her.
Her hair was a bright copper color. If it was a dye job, it was a damn good one. It was
thick and heavy, hanging in waves that framed her face nicely. Her face was broad and
open, ending in a pixie-ish chin. Her eyes were dark blue and sparkly. Her hands and
fingers were long, slender, and graceful. A thick silver band sat in the middle finger of
her left hand. Her voice was deep and a little rough, probably from years of smoking.
But it was sexy just the same. Whiskey voice, he thought, smiling.
He started flirting. Just a little. He wanted to see what kind of response he got.
He leaned forward more, his eyes holding her for longer and longer periods. He ordered
another round of beers for himself and "the beautiful lady".
She fixed him with a look that told her she knew exactly what he was up to, but
that she didn't necessarily mind. Compared to how he felt when he walked in, Hobbes
was feeling 100% better. He grinned at her.
"Flattery will get you just about everywhere," Jan remarked.
"Really?"
She chuckled. "Just about."
He put his hand over hers and she let him. "Want to get out of here?"
She cocked an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"
"I thought we could get something to eat maybe. I know this great place. Or
maybe coffee. Or…"
She smiled and nodded, getting his drift. She leaned in close. He caught the faint
scent of her lipstick. "You know what? I'd love to spend hours in bed with you,
memorizing every inch of your body with my mouth and hands." Her
straightforwardness caught him a bit off guard. "But I think you've had a tough day and I
don't want us to make any decisions we might regret."
"Oh, I don't regret it, beautiful. And I'll take it as my solemn duty to make sure
you don't, either."
She blinked languidly, a Cheshire smile stealing across her face. "Oh, I'm sure
you would. Tell you what. I'll be here tomorrow night. If you're feeling the same way
then, you'll know where to find me." She put her hand on the back of his neck and drew
him to her, her lips finding his. He was a little startled. Her tongue touched the center of
his mouth and he opened his lips to her. The kiss was deep, slow, unhurried. One part of
him was enjoying it. The other part was having trouble keeping it's cool. Jan pulled
away slowly, studying his face before backing away completely.
"You sleep well tonight, Bobby. Go to work tomorrow, make up with your
partner, and have a good day at work. We'll see where the day takes us." She slid off the
barstool and walked away. Hobbes couldn't help it. His eyes fell to her ass, watching
her hips sway from side to side, wrapped in battered denim. He really, really wanted to
see those hips unclothed. At the end of the bar, Jan paused and turned. She smiled at
catching him checking her out. With a lazy wink, she left the bar.
Hobbes took Jan's advice. He went home and actually slept soundly. The next
morning, he and Fawkes did indeed make up. Amid shuffling of feet and manly
posturing, they both managed to apologize to each other. By the middle of the day, no
one could tell they had fought. It usually went that way with the two. That afternoon,
they finished work at a normal time. Fawkes went off to the solitude of his apartment.
Hobbes had other plans.
He went home and showered again. He then stood before his closet, towel around
his waist and skin still damp, carefully selecting an outfit. He decided on black cowboy
boots, black jeans, a black silk shirt, and a black jacket. He spent extra time grooming
and dressing, then surveyed the results in the mirror. Damn, he had to admit he looked
good in black. He hoped Jan would feel the same.
He walked into the bar a little after 7:00. For a Thursday night, the joint was
doing good business. Buzz was again behind the bar, deep in conference with four
mountainous men in leather. Bikers, like Buzz. Hobbes nodded when Buzz glanced his
way, but otherwise left the owner to his friends. He wasn't there to see Buzz anyway.
He spotted that halo of auburn hair over by the end of the bar where he'd sat
yesterday. Jan was shooting pool alone, at the same table where she'd beat the truckers
the night before. She was intent on the table and didn't see him approach. He got a
chance to enjoy his view.
She was once again in jeans, but these looked a bit newer than what she'd been
wearing last night. In place of a T-shirt, she was wearing a leather vest alone, buttoned
up the front. The deep V gave an excellent view of her bosom. She was wearing more
jewelry tonight and, under to glow of the pool lamp, he noticed a bit more make-up. Not
too much. Her eyes were smokier and her lips a bit more red. He wasn't the only one
who had taken special pains tonight. He stepped up the level of the pool tables so he
could come up beside her and enjoy the view.
Jan crouched level with the edge of the table, lining up a shot. He could see she
was trying to sink the yellow stripe in the corner pocket. But it looked impossible, given
the angle of the cue ball. However, she drew back her stick and connected solidly. The
cue ball grazed the back of the stripe and sent it hurtling squarely into the pocket.
He was distracted from his admiration of the shot by the angle of his own. Her
profile was too him and Hobbes noticed for the first time the delicate angle of her nose.
Her arms, bare in the vest, were tanned and solid. Not muscle bound, but he had no
doubt she was strong. And the way her jeans hugged her butt and held close to her
thighs… Hobbes shook himself. If he was going to get through this night, he couldn't
get so distracted so quickly.
"Nice shot," he praised.
He startled her a bit. She looked over quickly, surprise replaced by a warm smile
of welcome. She stood straight, placing the butt of the pool stick by her feet. "My, my,
Mr. Hobbes. You are looking very handsome this evening."
He felt his face grow warm under the compliment. He drew up close to her,
grinning. "What? This old thing?"
In the next second, she leaned in and kissed him. He felt her hand slide around so
that she could grip his ass. His eyes fluttered in surprise, but he gave in, enjoying the
way her tongue slowly traced his lips. It had been a while since he had been with a
woman that kissed this well. He was light-headed when she pulled back.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Uhh…" Not the suave response he would have liked.
Then she was gone, walking around the pool table to pick up her beer. She held
the bottle by the neck. "You want something to drink?"
"Yeah. I'll get it. How are you doing with yours?"
She closed one eye to squint into the bottle. "I could use another."
He nodded and went to the bar, getting a draught for himself and another bottle
for Jan. When he returned to the pool table, Jan was racking up the balls. "How about a
game of eight ball?" she suggested.
"Against you? I saw how you hustled those guys last night."
"Hustled? Moi? Never."
He grinned at her feigned innocence. He really liked this lady. She was so
relaxing to be around. "To tell you the truth, I've never really played much pool."
"I'd be happy to teach you," she said. He stopped in front of her and handed her
the beer. The light from the lamp over the table was falling across her cleavage in a
fascinating way. Hobbes had to remind himself not to stare. "I'm a very good teacher."
"I bet you are," he murmured, sliding up close, his charm back.
She smiled back, studying his features for a moment. "Why don't you grab your
stick and we'll play."
"My..?" She held up her own pool cue for clarification. Obviously, he wasn't the
only one who was feeling frisky this evening. Hobbes shrugged of his jacket and, after
carefully folding it, he set it on a nearby stool. He went to the rack of sticks on the wall
and took one down. He knew enough that the stick had to be straight. He tested it by
lying it on the table and rolling it. It didn't wobble.
Jan waved at the triangular formation. "Do you want to break, or shall I?"
Hobbes bowed slightly. "Ladies first."
Jan smiled again at him. He was growing to like that smile. She rolled the cue
ball away from the starting dot on the felt, to her left. The angle was extreme. Hobbes
wondered what she was trying to do. She drew back the stick and punched it forward.
The white ball streaked to the side of the triangle, impacting with a powerful sound.
Shiny pool balls scattered across the entire table. She hadn't sunk anything.
"Now," Jan instructed. "Pick your shot."
Hobbes walked slowly around the table, trying to find the least difficult. The
orange solid was tantalizingly close to a pocket, but the angle to the cue ball was extreme.
Still… He lined up his shot carefully, striking the cue ball squarely. It missed the orange
solid by a hair, rebounding from the bumper and rolling to a halt almost where he started.
Jan walked to his side. "That was good. You just miscalculated a tiny bit."
"I thought I had it."
"Think of pool as 3-D geometry."
"I suck at geometry."
She chuckled. "Yes, but this is fun geometry. Here, let me show you." She
stretched her cue stick above the table, creating a line between the white and orange balls.
"You have to calculate the angles in your head. If you want the ball to go this way, you
have to hit it here. If you hit it here, the ball will go over there."
He watched her gesture with the stick and began to feel nervous. He wasn't sure
he was going to get this. And he didn't want to look stupid in front of her. "Maybe we
could play something else."
Jan put her hand on his shoulder. "Tell you what. Let's finish this game and see
how you feel." He hesitated. "Think of my as your private coach."
"How private?" he asked, feeling the ol' pep back.
She drew up so her body was touching his. "It could be very, very private," she
breathed, her eyes dreamy and bedroom.
"Okay! Let's play pool!"
She showed him how to hold and guide the stick for better control. She had him
bend down so he could align the shot. Then she leaned over him, her hands over his,
guiding him. She talked him through the shot in a low sexy voice that was making it
difficult to concentrate. Not that he wanted her to stop. He kept looking away from the
balls on the table, trying to see her.
"Come on, Bobby, pay attention," she admonished.
"I'd rather look at you."
'Charmer. Try looking at the table."
He studied the shot she was trying to describe and couldn't see it. "I think you're
making this up."
"I thought men were supposed to have better spatial acuity than women?"
"We do. We just do our best acuiting up close." He started to rise, to turn to her
and probably take her in his arms. She swatted his rump and pushed him back down into
position. "Okay, eagle eye, let's make this shot."
"The angle's impossible."
"Nothing is impossible."
"How about flying?"
"How about a hang glider? Now pay attention."
He knew he was going to blow this shot and preferred not to. But Jan persisted,
talking in his ear, describing the angles and lines of sight. Soon, he felt calm, in the zone.
Jan drew back on the stick, and he followed. Then he popped the stick forward. Blue
dust puffed when the tip struck the white cue ball. The ball shot across the table, striking
the orange ball off center with a loud clack. The orange ball darted toward the corner.
The pocket swallowed it.
Jan shouted, jumping up and clapping. Hobbes straightened slowly, stunned that
he'd actually made the damn shot, and very pleased that he had.
"See?" Jan said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I told you that you could do it."
"I had a good teacher." Flush with his success, he looped an arm around her waist
and pulled her close.
"Does the student have something for the teacher?" she asked playfully. In
answer, he kissed her for all he was worth. Soon, Jan's arms were around his shoulders,
her body pressed tight against him. For a few seconds, nothing else existed. When they
parted, she looked a bit dazed. "Wow…" she breathed.
He grinned at her. "So, are we gonna play pool or what?"
"Pool? Oh. Yeah. We can play pool."
The spent the next couple of hours at the table. Under Jan's tutelage, Hobbes was
getting better and better at the more difficult shots. While she beat him at every game,
she wasn't beating him by much by the time they finished. While Hobbes had continued
to casually drink beers, he noticed that she stopped early on. When they abandoned the
table, bidding Buzz a good night, Jan grabbed his hand. "Come on. There's something I
want to show you."
Hobbes allowed himself to be led to the parking lot. Jan was headed for a
medium-sized motorcycle. When they got closer, Hobbes could see that it was a Harley
Davidson, painted black with custom black leatherwork. Jan let go of his hand to unlock
a helmet hanging on the side, handing it to him. She produced another helmet from the
other side of the saddlebags.
He stood by the bike, holding the helmet, gazing at the motorcycle. He probably
shouldn't have been surprised that she would have a vehicle of this type or expense.
Hard-core bikers usually insisted on Harleys. And even though it wasn't the largest
model the Harley Davidson Company manufactured, it was still a beast. Jan pulled the
helmet on, strapping it under her chin. She produced a set of keys from her pocket and
unlocked one of the saddlebags, pulling out a black leather jacket, which she donned.
Then, throwing one leg over the seat, she heeled the kickstand back and set the
motorcycle upright. She glanced at him through her visor.
"Are you going to stand there and gawk or get on?"
Hobbes looked at the helmet in his hand.
"California law, pal. Put it on and hop on."
Well, she was just full of surprises. He shrugged and pulled the helmet on. Then
he climbed on behind her, his waist pressed tight against her back. She turned the key
and the powerful motor roared to life. "Hang on!" she yelled over her shoulder and
popped the machine into gear. The bike lurched forward. She eased out of the parking
lot and headed for open road.
On the freeway, Hobbes held her waist tight. Their positions and the vibrations
from the engine were not doing a thing to dissuade him from thoughts of what he really
wanted to do with this woman. She guided the motorcycle expertly, gliding from lane to
lane, going about 20 over the limit but still driving safe. He pressed his chest to her back,
able to feel her muscles work while she controlled the bike.
She pulled off on an access road, steering toward the ocean. Hobbes recognized
where she was headed. Hampton Beach was a large stretch of white sand that, during
daylight hours, was crowded with people. At this time of night, however, the parking
slots only held a scattering of cars. Jan coasted into a spot farthest from the other cars
and killed the engine. The bellow of the engine was replaced with the murmur of the sea.
The night air was cool and briny. Gulls cackled in the distance. Bracing their weight
with her feet, Jan leaned back into him, pulling off her helmet. The ocean breeze
immediately started tugging on her hair. Hobbes took off his own helmet, feeling the air
moving over his head.
"We're here," she said quietly.
"This is what you wanted to show me?" Not that he minded. He tightened his
arms, holding her close.
"Just about. We'll have to move for you to get the full effect, but I'm kind of
enjoying this."
He bent forward and pressed a kiss against her neck. Jan sighed and titled her
head, giving him better access. He kissed again and again, inhaling her perfume and
feeling her soft skin under his lips. She reached around and placed her hand on his thigh,
resting it there before slowly rubbing. Hobbes bit the inside of his mouth, getting himself
back under control. He decided quick wasn't the way to go with this lady.
With a regretful sigh, Jan slowly pulled away and stood over the seat. Hobbes
took his cue and swung his leg off the back. Probably better to stop for the moment
anyway. Once he had dismounted, she toed the kickstand down and settling the weight
carefully. With the motorcycle steady, she looked at him over her shoulder, smiling. She
took his hand and made for the sand.
They walked for a bit, the sand unstable under their feet, each carrying their
helmets loosely. There was a berm before the final slope to the ocean and Jan suddenly
plunked down, sitting cross-legged. Hobbes followed her. She gazed at the water, the
wind drawing her hair back from her face. Hobbes looked at her for a long time,
enjoying the way the moonlight lit her face. Her eyes moved to his, lingering, glowing in
the illumination.
"You're not looking at what I brought you here to see," she said, smiling.
"I'm not?" he asked, never breaking the contact.
She tipped her head toward the ocean. "Look." When he didn't move, she
laughed and took his jaw in her hand, turning his head away from her. "Look."
"What am I looking at?"
Jan scooted closer, her arm sliding around his waist. "Look…" she murmured
again.
Then he saw it. Smooth sand sloped away from them, meeting the burbling surf.
Above, a full moon hung in a deep velvet sky, so bright, it blocked out the light of the
stars. The sand glowed and the moving sea glittered with silver. Hobbes couldn't
remember the last time he's just sat and enjoyed the beauty of something like this.
Possibly with Viv. But, after she began to pull away from him, eventually divorcing him,
Hobbes had thrown himself into work. He hadn't taken the time to appreciate a sunset or
mountains or desert. It was just work and his empty apartment. And then breaking in
Fawkes. What a process that had been.
But now, he was sitting on a beach under a full moon, with a beautiful woman,
seeing the magic of the light and listening to the sighing of the waves. It was very
peaceful and soothing. His heart beat a little faster when Jan lay her head on his
shoulder. This was one perfect moment. And he never wanted it to end.
They sat for a long time on the beach, listening to the hiss of the waves, the
occasional gull or other nighttime beach goers. Jan leaned against him, her arms wrapped
loosely around his waist. They didn't talk. They didn't do much of anything besides
watch the moon gild the ocean's ripples silver. It was nice, calm, and serene. As hard as
Jan had been flirting earlier, Hobbes was sure the night was going to end in bed. Now, he
wasn't so sure. And he found that he didn't really mind.
After a time, Jan released him and reached for her boot. She pried one off,
peeling the sock free and tossing them aside. Then she went to work on the other.
Hobbes watched her for a moment. "What are you doing?"
She was having trouble with her left boot. "Do you mean to tell me you wouldn't
love to talk a moonlit stroll on the beach?"
Well, he hadn't really thought about it until she mentioned it. He was happy just
to sit next to her and enjoy the view.
She finally yanked the other boot off and relieved her foot of its sock. She
stretched her legs out before her, wiggling her toes. Like her hands, her feet were long
and thin. She nudged him with her shoulder. "Come on, Bobby. Talk a walk with me."
He gave it a thought, then reached for his own boots. Jan smiled and rolled up her jeans.
Not that it would keep them completely dry. When she had them mid-calf, she stood,
dropping her jacket and her helmet in the sand. Hobbes was still tugging on his boot.
"Hurry up, Bobby," she urged. She stretched her arms out at shoulder level,
facing the sea, as though she were about to embrace it. Hobbes took a moment to watch
the way the moonlight splashed over her arms and shoulders. Suddenly, the boot released
and he nearly whacked himself in the face with it. He pulled his sock off and went to
work on the other.
Jan turned and watched him struggle. She laughed that light, glittering laugh of
hers, then bent down and took hold of his heel. She leaned back, pulling his leg straight,
throwing her weight behind her. Giving him an excellent view of her breasts. He didn't
want to stare. He didn't want to be that crass. But there they were, right in front of his
eyes. Full and round and nearly spilling from her vest. The serenity was broken, being
replaced with the comedy of the situation and his desire.
She grunted and tugged harder. Then flew back on the sand as his boot gave way,
taking the tooled leather and his sock with her. "Jan!" he cried as she toppled back. He
was kneeling at her side in the next moment, looking down. Jan still had his boot in her
hands. She looked startled. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.
He guessed she was because she burst out in laughter. A big, hearty belly laugh
that came from her toes. It was impossible to keep a straight face in that onslaught. She
held his boot up to him. "Here you go."
He tossed the boot back with it mate and stood, holding a hand out to her. Jan
took it, letting him pull her up. She was still smiling and chuckling when she lost her
footing, falling against him. Hobbes caught her and she starting laughing all over again.
"Well, I'm sure I'm just charming you all to pieces with my grace and style," she
cracked as she righted herself again. Hobbes kept his arm around her, though, enjoying
the feel of her.
"As a matter of fact..." he murmured, his want taking fire.
Jan rested her hands on his shoulders. "Bobby Hobbes, are you flattering me
again?"
He tightened his arms around her. "Maybe. Why?"
She slid her arms around him until she held him just as tight. "I was just going to
tell you to keep up the good work."
They melted into the kiss so naturally, he wasn't aware until their lips were
locked. Jan pressed against him as her mouth opened to his. Soon, the sound of his
blood in his ears was competing with the waves. His hands roamed her back, sliding over
the warm leather, gradually working their way south until he cupped a cheek. Jan
moaned her approval into his mouth, her tongue flicking against him in a way that was
making him crazy. Heat was building in his groin now. He was sure she would feel the
beginning of his erection. Which she did. Jan groaned again, pressing her hips tight
against him. Something was going to have to give soon. Otherwise, he was going to
make love to her right there on the sand.
They finally broke apart, each winded and happily dazed. Jan smiled, pleased.
"I want you," Hobbes told her, his voice rough with desire.
She smiled and pecked the corner of his mouth. "I can tell."
It was kind of crude, when you thought about it. "Sorry."
She took her arms from around his neck and slipped them inside his jacket,
grabbing his ass and pulling him against her. So much for crude... "Don't be."
"Ah, well..?"
"Well?"
"What should we do?"
"I thought we were going to take a walk."
Hobbes looked at her, wondering if she was serious. "You want to walk?"
"Right now, yes."
He let go of the tension in his arms. "O-kaaay. But you're going to have to give
me a minute."
She smiled again and leaned forward, running her tongue along the edge of his
ear. Hobbes sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. "We can take all the time you
want," she purred in his ear, nipping at the lobe and giving it a quick lick before drawing
away. Hobbes watched her walk toward the waves, trying to concentrate on taking deep
breaths and baseball statistics. She wanted to take her time. He just hopped he could be
patient enough for her.
Jan stepped onto the soaked sand and let the tide wash over her feet. She then
looked back at him and held out her hand. "Come here," she said. "The water is
wonderful."
It took every ounce of self-control he had, but Hobbes was able to join her, taking
her hand and letting the warm Pacific lap at his feet. They strolled a small path back and
forth, talking quietly. For a while, Hobbes wondering if she was the type of woman that
ran hot and cold. He really hoped not, because he liked her and wanted her so much. But
gradually, they moved together, arms around each other's waist. The calm was back, the
peace. But now Hobbes was confused. She certainly acted like the desire was mutual,
but she kept pulling back. He got a good vibe from her constantly, but… He didn't want
to rush her. Golden fantasies of what her naked body looked like, what it would be like
to touch and kiss every inch of her, flickered through his mind. He just hoped they would
actually come true.
The salt air took a sharp chill and they both decided to head back. Hobbes
thought about suggesting his place, but he didn't want to play it too eager. He was still
trying to feel her out and get a fix on just where Jan was coming from. They sat on the
sand while their feet dried, talking. They were finally able to put their boots back on and,
picking up everything, headed back for the bike. Jan was preparing to put her helmet on
when Hobbes decided a bold move was in order. Looping an arm around her waist,
Hobbes pulled Jan close and kissed her. Not too eagerly. He also didn't want to be too
chaste. But he wanted his cards down on the table so he could gauge her reaction. When
they drifted apart, he looked in her eyes. "Jan, I just want you to know… I would love to
spend the night with you."
She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?"
"I haven't been… I've been sending mixed signals all night, haven't I?"
"Well, I wouldn't say 'mixed'…"
She kissed the tip of his nose. "That's because you are a sweet man. But I have.
And I apologize."
Hobbes shrugged, his hands still on her waist. "That's okay."
"No. No it's not. Bobby, you're a great guy. And right now, you are sexy as
hell. I'm letting old baggage get in the way and I shouldn't."
He wondered if she was on the verge of spilling some deep, dark secret about
herself. He also felt a twinge of not wanting her to. Not now. Not when this was all so
new. Let the neurosis come in later, when they were sure they hated each other. At least,
that's how it usually worked out for him and women.
Jan kissed him passionately then, her arms tight around his neck. "I want to make
love to you, Bobby," she whispered fervently into his ear. "Tell me where you live. Let
me drive there so we can spend the night together."
Oh good. No stories. But then, then mood of hers could change quickly. He
pushed her back enough so he could see her. "Are you sure?"
She stroked his face with the back of her fingers. "Yes. Completely sure."
Jan agreed to his place. Secretly, he was glad. "Home court advantage" always
meant more to someone with paranoid leanings. He wondered at how comfortable he felt
with her as Jan steered the motorcycle to his section of town. The roar of the engine and
the rush of wind made it impossible to converse. He wrapped his arms around her waist
and enjoyed the feel of her. He wanted her—badly. It was damned difficult to keep his
hard-on under control. She knew the way there, once he provided her with the address.
Soon, they were pulling up in front of his apartment building. Jan eased into a parking
spot a few hundred feet from the door and killed the engine.
They climbed off the bike together. When they'd removed their helmets, Hobbes
extended his crooked arm. "May I?"
Jan grinned and looped her arm through his. "Thank you, kind sir. Please. By all
means."
He led her into the building and up to his apartment. He unlocked his door and
held it open for her. A couple of small lamps in the apartment burned, giving a faint gold
glow. It would never do to walk into a dark room. You never knew who could be
waiting for you in the shadows.
He took Jan's coat and helmet, stashing them in the closet. She walked further in,
looking around, nodding. Hobbes flipped on a few more lights. Not enough to cast a
harsh light. Just enough to see. He didn't think it would be too cool for his date to break
her leg, tripping in the dim light.
"You have a nice place, Bobby," Jan said, peering occasionally at an item or
picture. Hobbes watched her. He was starting to feel nervous. And he couldn't figure
out why. It wasn't Jan. It was that she was here, ready to… Well, Hobbes had more
than his share of female companionship. But Jan was different. She was…well, she was
great. He liked her a lot and found her extremely attractive. He wondered when was the
last time he'd spent an evening with a woman he actually liked.
Jan stopped in the middle of the main room and turned to him. He must have
been staring or something because she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. Okay. Quit
staring and fidgeting. Time to play good host. He had to have something around here to
offer. Hobbes went into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door.
Fate was his friend that night. In the back, behind half a dozen take out
containers, was an unopened bottle of Chardonnay. He couldn't even remember when he
bought it. Hobbes wasn't much for wine, or at least drinking wine alone. He grabbed the
bottle by the neck and went in search of glasses.
Jan felt his eyes on her. When she turned, he was watching her with the strangest
expression. Somewhere between nervous and afraid. She wondered what that was about.
She found it sweet, though. She was sure Bobby had been with a few women. Charm
like his wasn't alone for long. And the fact that he actually seemed nervous touched her.
No man had felt nervous with her…well, in a long time. He hurried off to the kitchen
and went digging in the fridge. She considered offering to help. But he seemed to need
something to do. And, honestly, bachelor refrigerators made her nervous. She settled for
leaning on the breakfast bar and watching.
And she was enjoying the view. Bobby was compact and powerfully built. She
detected a tight rump under those slacks. When he reached out, his shirt pulled across
muscular arms. When he had his back to her while looking in a cabinet, she let her eyes
linger on the V from his shoulders to his belt. Everything she loved about a man's body,
all in one neat package before her. Desire fluttered in her belly.
He finally found two stemmed glasses and turned. Jan smiled dreamily at him.
He returned the smile, then set everything down in search of a bottle opener. "Is wine
okay?"
"Wine would be fine." She looked at the label. Chardonnay. Her favorite kind
of white wine. Could the little details of this evening get any better? Bobby opened the
bottle and poured. They clinked glasses and each took a sip. The fruity, dry liquid
tickled her tongue. She looked at Bobby over the rim of her glass. He seemed nervous
again. Which was sweet, but not going to get them anywhere. She held out her hand.
"C'mon…"
He took hold of hers with his large hand and let her lead him to the couch. Once
they both were seated, Jan started talking. Not about anything in particular. But she
wanted Bobby to relax and enjoy the evening. If the warmth spreading through her
thighs were any indication, events would end up where they both wanted. But she didn't
want to have to fumble through a first attempt.
They sat and chatted for a long time. Bobby did eventually unwind. The bottle
eventually became empty and soon his arm was around her shoulder while they talked.
Jan snuggled in next to him, keenly aware of where their bodies were touching. Her
desire for him was building to nearly intolerable levels. On one hand, she wanted to let
him take the lead. She'd fumbled enough earlier. On the other hand, if he didn't kiss her
soon, she might possibly explode.
Then he was kissing her. His mouth covered hers, his lips insistent yet soft. His
other arm moved around her, the leather of the sofa squeaking slightly as he shifted his
weight. Jan pressed her hands against his back and held him tight, her tongue finding his.
Of all the men she'd kissed, Bobby was one of the best. She closed her eyes and focused
on the sensation of his mouth and hands. She also recognized him as someone of her
generation. A man from an age when making out was an art and something two people
could do for hours.
For a long time, they just enjoyed each other. No stampeding for the bed. Their
mouths and fingers took their time, tasting, pressing, lingering over sensitive areas. Jan
ran her hands down his back and confirm her earlier estimation of his rear. It was firm
and tight. She squeezed slightly. Bobby murmured his approval into her mouth.
For a while, they were content to explore clothed. But the heat was building
rapidly and they both wanted to feel skin. Bobby's hands worked and the buttons of her
vest, pushing the leather aside, and taking a breast in each hand. His fingers roamed over
the lace of her bra, making her squirm. Jan deftly unbuttoned his shirt and pressed his
chest. Lightly haired and muscular. She probed the planes and ridges, flicking his hard
nipples before moving on. Bobby's lips moved from her mouth to her chest, delicately
kissing the flesh over her ribs. Her breath caught when he ran his tongue down the valley
between her breasts.
His skin was becoming moist. She impatiently shoved his shirt the rest of the way
off so she could feast her eyes on him. Bobby cooperated long enough to get his arms
out of the sleeves before going back to her breasts, lavishing them with attention that was
making it difficult to breathe. Jan looked down, gripping his shoulders, his arms, sliding
her palms along the expanse of his back. He pulled aside some lace and fixed his mouth
on her nipple. The sensation was red hot and Jan saw stars for a second. "Oh, God,
Bobby…" she murmured, stroking the soft hair on the back of his head.
She was going to peak right then and there. As much as her body ached for
release, she wanted this to last. She gently pushed him back to his original seated
position. His eyes, liquid with heat, questioned her. Jan pressed her weight against him,
her lips locking with his. She moved down to his strong jaw, nipping lightly and licking,
before finding the warmth of his neck. He tasted wonderful and smelled even better. She
kissed a trail down to his chest, flicking his nipple with her tongue while massaging the
other. Bobby sighed contentedly and stroked her hair, giving himself to her
ministrations.
While her mouth explored his chest, her hand found his lap. The gabardine of his
trousers was painfully tented. Jan stroked the length, delighting in the way Bobby
moaned and shifted. She kissed further down and fumbled with his belt. His hand
appeared and assisted her and soon her hand was hidden in the dark fabric. She could
feel his hardness through the soft cotton of his briefs. After a moment of searching, she
freed it to the air. By now, her tongue was tickling his navel. She took a moment to look
at his erection. It was just about the most beautiful cock she'd ever seen. Long and
thick, hard and red in her hand, with a neatly circumcised tip. The scent coming from
him was salty and decidedly masculine. She couldn't wait anymore. Jan lowered her
head over the tip, her tongue swirling. Bobby sucked in a breath and held it, groaning
deep in his throat. She took in another inch, gripping the shaft and stroking slowly. He
moaned again, almost as if in pain, while his hands clenched and released her hair.
She couldn't take all of him, but she continued until he touched the back of her
throat. She'd given her share of blowjobs in her life and had been told by many lovers
that she had great technique. Jan decided to let Bobby benefit from her experience. She
sucked and licked, using her hand and her mouth to greatest effect. Soon, he was
breathing shallow, writhing under her. She felt a tremor travel up his shaft and pulled
back slightly, holding two inches between her lips. He came, nearly arching off the
couch. Thick, salty liquid fired into her mouth. Jan swallowed quickly, pushing him
even further with rapid pumps of her hand. He froze for a moment in a sculpture of
ecstasy, then went completely boneless. His cock, spent, went soft in her hand.
Jan gave him a moment and drained the last of her wine, swishing it around in her
mouth to clear some of his taste away. Most men got freaky when she tried to kiss them
after giving them head. She tucked him back into his briefs, giving him some semblance
of modesty. Not that Bobby noticed. He was slumped in the sofa, panting, trying to get
his eyes to work. She curled up next to him, idly stroking his chest and twirling the hair
there.
It took him several minutes to pull himself together. Jan watched his struggle
with affectionate amusement. When he could breathe properly again, he looked at her
and said, "God, Jan. That was… was…."
She kissed his cheek. "You're welcome."
He pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips danced lazily for a while until the
discomfort of their position became too much. "Let's move this to the bedroom," he
whispered hoarsely.
She thought he'd never ask.
They divested themselves of everything but their underwear and Hobbes led Jan
to his bedroom, his fingers laced with hers. Once they hit the thresh hold, it was as if a
switch had been flipped. They were all over each other, hands and tongues everywhere,
like they were trying to devour each other. Jan found the bed and slid quickly across the
mattress. Hobbes climbed quickly after her. He lay down next to her, one leg between
hers. He wanted to see her breasts, without the bra. While he kissed her, he undid the
hooks and eyes with one hand. The pressure on the elastic released and he pulled the rest
free. He took a moment just to look at her. Her breasts were large and by no means had
the perkiness of youth. But the skin was pale and soft, and her areola the color of red
wine. Her belly was full and soft, leading to firm, round thighs and long legs. Her lace
panties were dark at her delta, speaking of a mound of thick hair.
She was everything society said women weren't supposed to look like. Screw
society. Hobbes most definitely liked what he saw. He bent down and ran a stiff tongue
over her nipple, feeling the skin goose-bump and tighten. Jan sighed and stroked his
head, both pate and hair. He took an abundant breast in one hand, kneading the soft
flesh, while he worked the other with his mouth. She squirmed beneath him, her breath
growing more rapid. He moved down, leaving a trail of saliva down the creamy skin of
her tummy. He licked his way down, shifting so that he was positioned over her legs.
Hobbes glanced up. Jan was in bliss, her eyes closed, her mouth open. But she knew
where he was. She parted her legs for him, slightly raising her knees. He settled on his
belly.
The scent of her sex was heavy. Her panties were already soaked. He kissed the
bottom of her tummy, just above the scallop of lace. Jan murmured, "Oh yes…", one of
her hands gripping her breast. He kissed the lace, moving down, hooking two fingers in
the fabric and pulling it down as he went. There was an awkward moment as he had to
get them past her long, open legs, but soon he was where he'd fantasized of being since
meeting this woman.
Hobbes pressed his mouth to her labia. Jan's reaction was electric and immediate.
With a cry, she arched her hips off the bed to meet his mouth. He kissed the joint
between her thigh and groin, gently pushing her back down. He gave her clit an
experimental flick with his tongue, tasting her heady juice. A shiver ran the entire length
of her body and she moaned. She was dripping wet, her labia and clit gorged with blood.
Best not to keep the lady waiting. He fixed his mouth to her again, his tongue working
her clit while his lips tugged and sucked.
Her thighs quivered with the effort of trying not to move too much. He buried
himself between them, lashing her with his mouth. Very soon, she was panting hard, one
hand clutching her own breast while the other gripped his skull. He persisted, keeping up
the attention, until at last she came. She shouted his name and arched completely off the
mattress. Juice poured out of her. Hobbes brought her down carefully, nursing her pussy
down from the high. She gradually released, seeming to melt into the mattress by
degrees. He kissed the mound of curly auburn hair and carefully climbed up to meet her.
She lay still except for the aftershocks that shivered through her. He splayed his
hand on her tummy, noting the contrast between her sun-deprived skin and his tan. She
reached for his face drunkenly. He caught it and kissed the palm. She smiled and said,
"Mmmmmm…"
They lay together for a while, but gradually went back to their lovemaking.
While he kissed her, he felt her hand reach around and grip his ass firmly. The jump of
his groin made him smile. They were soon tangled in each other. His cock became hard
and demanding. Luckily, he had a supply of condoms in his nightstand. He retrieved
one, but Jan took it from him. "Let me," she whispered, claiming his mouth once again
with hers. She kept kissing him while she unwrapped and unrolled the latex sleeve. He
supposed he should have been concerned that she could do it without looking (hell, he
couldn't do it without looking), but she was doing things with her hands that was making
it an incredibly erotic experience. Once she had it on and pinched the end, she moved
quickly. She looped her legs around his back and tightened, pulling both of them
together, guiding him into her depths with her free hand.
Hobbes felt his cock swallowed by her wet head and had to count to ten so this
wouldn't be over before it began. Jan settled on her back, her arms loose around his
neck, smiling. He kissed her and, before he could get himself propped up, she whispered,
"Fuck me, Bobby" tenderly in his ear.
The sight of her beneath him, the feel of being buried in her to the hilt, and her
impassioned plea were almost too much. Hobbes got his weight on his hands and started
to pump. Every time he sunk into her, Jan sighed or whispered encouragement. It took
him a moment to get his tempo, but once he did, it was as though they had done this
forever. Slowly at first, gliding in and out. Then he picked up speed. With each thrust,
her breasts jiggled gently. He was on the brink of sensory overload and had to fight hard
from cumming too soon. Eventually, he was pistoning rapidly, pushing them both harder
and faster. Jan began panting in a way he recognized. He slowed a bit, but she took the
back of his neck in one steel hand and grunted, "No, Bobby. More. Keep going."
So he obliged. Sweat was trickling down his back and brow. He was dimly
aware that he might pay for this in the morning. But nothing else mattered. They were
driving at top speed for a destination they both craved. Jan propped herself up on one
elbow, her other hand gripping his back. Her forehead glowed with perspiration. Then,
she threw her head back. "Oh! God! Bobby! I'm—" The rest disappeared in a low
howl. She seized up under him. He felt the walls of her pussy clamp down around his
cock. That was the feather that sent him over the edge. With two more rough thrusts,
Hobbes was there with her, growling as the orgasm crashed into him and tore him apart.
They spent a split second and an eternity, clutching and clenching each other,
completely at the mercy of the sensation. Jan oozed back into the mattress first. Hobbes
arms trembled from effort, yet he didn't seem to have the strength to move. Her hand
caressing his face, Jan pulled him down on top of her, wrapping her arms and legs around
him. He gasped for breath in her hair, trembling. She cooed in his ear, stroking his head
and back, gently leading him back to earth.
They lay like that for a long while. "I'm probably crushing you," Hobbes
remarked at last, his voice muffled by her throat.
Jan laughed, light and musical. "Hardly. You're kind of like a human blanket."
He lifted his head to look at her, thinking that an odd remark. She laughed again
and stroked his temple with the back of her fingers. "I like having you on top of me,
Bobby Hobbes."
"Oh. Well, okay then. Anything to make the lady happy."
He woke to the sound of rain. After listening to the patter from within his cocoon
of sleep, Hobbes realized that he was hearing the shower. Why was he hearing the
shower? He tried to sit up, groggy and out of it. Then he spotted the white lace panties
hanging off his lampshade and it all came back to him in a rush. He lay back down and
smiled.
The shower was soon turned off. After a few moments, Jan emerged from the
bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Her hair was wet and combed straight down her back.
Her skin was pink and glowing. The early morning light filtered in, making her shine.
He felt something stir in his groin.
Jan smiled and came to the edge of the bed, crawling across the mattress to kiss
him. "Good morning."
She smelled fresh, like soap and apple shampoo. Hobbes found himself kissing
her back with purpose. "Morning," he murmured went they broke.
"I suppose I should drive you back to the bar, so you can get your wheels."
"Yeah, I suppose…"
She grinned, mischief making her eyes sparkle. "Or you can just be late to work."
With that, she straightened and tugged at the towel. It fell around her knees. Hobbes
found himself gaping at her naked pink body.
She had a point there…
Hobbes hustled into the Agency's building to find Fawkes pacing outside The
Official's office. When his partner spotted him, he rushed forward.
"Where have you been?"
Hobbes hardly ever saw Fawkes this uptight. With his good mood this morning,
it amused him. "Running a little late this morning, partner." He continued down the hall
to his original destination—The Official's office.
Fawkes hustled after him. "Yeah, well, the chief is about to call for your blood."
Hobbes paused, his hand on the doorknob. "You know what you're problem is,
Fawkes?"
Fawkes stared at him like he's started speaking in tongues.
"You need to relax…get out more." Hobbes clapped him on the arm and breezed
into the office.
"Hobbes!" The Official barked. "You're late!"
"Yes, sir. Sorry about that, sir." Hobbes glided to a chair and calmly took a seat.
Fawkes took the other, his eyes going from his boss to his partner.
"Why? And why didn't you call in?" The Official demanded.
"Car trouble, sir," Hobbes replied smoothly. "And I'm afraid I didn't have a
phone."
The Official's narrowed an eye. "What about your cell?"
"Battery was dead, sir," he replied coolly. "Sorry. It won't happen again."
The Official studied him for another moment, but decided there was something
about his senior agent that told him he wasn't going to rattle him today. Hobbes sat calm,
a vague mysterious smile in place, cool and collected. The boss harrumphed and got
down to business. "Eberts! Where's that file?"
Fin