Quick and Dirty

Quick and Dirty III - Electric Fire

Alrighty, time for the big dick finale, woohoo 🥳😄 I'm Jack, btw--and I'm truly sorry this 3rd and last part took me so long to get to you. So I'm hoping you'll enjoy it all the more.

For this last one, I'll also stop annoying y'all with any of my emoji-laden antics. Instead, I'm just gonna write about the day I became a happy fuck-toy for the literal man of my dreams.

Sound good? Good. Off we go! Next stop? Fuckadelphia!

Good BBQ? Low and Slow!

Seeing Tucker over the coming days wasn't exactly easy.

Not so much because of my obsession with him. That part obviously reached peak mania after our last confrontation ended with us making out like reckless teenagers 😜

Seeing the struggle in him. Watching him wrangle all of that guilt and shame. The admirable restraint he showed, trying to keep our interactions platonic and friendly, rather than cold and distant. It made me feel for him--It made me wish I could take some of that weight.

But every time he visited or we met on the job, I saw that guilt in him dim a little, the spark in him burning that much brighter. In brief looks. In steady eye contact. Hidden smiles when I caught him lingering on various parts of me just a bit longer. Telling touches and grins whenever we said hello.

They told me he understood. That his puzzle was still complete. The picture clear. Despite his turmoil, our consensus remained unwavering: I wanted him more than anything. My parents had no say in any of it. Him being straight, or bi, orwhatever... didn't matter. And trying to ignore that magnetism between us would only ever cause more pain.

So his touches eventually became hugs. Casual at first. Then longer. Just a little tighter. More intimate.

I waited for him. Kept my patience. Gave him the space he needed. And yet refused to stop telling my body to keep reminding him of our truth. Never overtly sexual, but always tempting--always enough to fan his flame.

In a way this constant, hidden tension between us affected me more than him.

My haircut morphed to wavy strands. Lips turned glossy whenever they were anywhere near him. Gone were the days of loose Jordans and baggy pants. Instead: skin-tight jeans, cute shirts with logos of bands I knew he liked. To the point where I dressed so femme, Dad would sometimes raise an eyebrow. But I couldn't help it.

Because Tucker enjoyed my new look.

I recognized it in the way his eyes traveled from my legs back up to meet mine in those secret little moments we shared more and more often.

Until one Thursday afternoon, he finally reached his tipping point. Or better yet: We both did 😊.

The Column of Doom

Looking back, it was nothing less than fate casting its final judgement.

Dad, Tucker, and I were hired to a suburban estate just outside the city that day.

It had this rather small room on the second floor, about 160 square feet. The owner, apparently an academic, wanted it renovated to a library and office space. Centerpiece was a relatively large drywall column of piled and offset rectangular blocks, resembling stacked books. Nice and fancy with novel-sized insets and LED strips to light the whole thing up cozy.

Those LED strips, wiring and electricity had brought me there that day.

And that column, still mostly a wooden frame then, ended up making it pretty fucking hard to focus on my job.

Why,I hear you ask? Well, because today I can tell you this much: Fancy drywall column book shelves are now my favorite thing in the world, besides shower containers of course😅. And here's why:

Dad and Tucker got busy crafting two of the room's walls into quite the sophisticated L-shaped rack, music doodling along on a bluetooth speaker as we worked our magic. Nothing out of the ordinary--Just three guys cutting beams and boards, running wires, fixing problems. Or so it seemed, since that'snot at allwhat it was for me.

The music, the midday sun through those large windows, the smell of sawdust, plaster and good work--it quickly became cruel torture. Because it was all steeped in the presence of a man I yearned to violate me in all the most filthy ways my livid nympho brain came up with.

A man who kept slippingveryup close and personal with me, his deep voice saying "sorry", or "whoops", cracking little jokes as we squeezed and tangled around that column to get our work done.

Of course I knew something along those lines was bound to happen sooner or later. But I wasn't prepared forthis.

The confined space. The way Tucker's muscle flexed under that grey tee of his, catching me off guard with in-your-face peeks of his impressive physique whenever he reached up to hold boards in place, power tool in hand. Beads of sweat glistened on his skin. His scent. And last but not least the way that glimmer in his eyes just battered me whenever we crossed paths so closely.

All of it drove me fucking nuts.

Less than two hours of his vicinity, in this atmosphere--and I was a horny mess, struggling to focus so I wouldn't end up electrocuting myself, or burning the place down.

Tucker noticed, of course. The looks I couldn't stop when he passed me. My desperation. Biting my lip, averting eyes in my battle for composure whenever he moved past me. Shifting in ways quietly brimming with greed for him. It kept slipping out in helpless exhales I couldn't control. They caught him every bit as much as his masculine energy had me trapped as if I was tied to that column for it to flog me.

Every time we 'accidentally' brushed past one another, bits and pieces of my composure crumbled. That devastating attraction between us--it threatened to blow this whole situation up to one giant, embarrassing chaos.

Dad was oblivious to it all, kept our casual conversations and jokes flowing. But beneath them, my arousal slammed into Tucker head-on--beamed into him as hot as the sun poured through the windows.

This was my turn to feel guilty. I didn't want to do that to him.Not here. Not in front of my Dad.

I'd given a promise, too, after all.

And although Tucker wrestled his restraint every bit as much as I did, I wasn't sure how he was taking it. Would he get angry with me? I would've understood if he did.

But he didn't.

Something else had already happened. I just didn't know it, yet.

Electric Fire

Do your job. Don't even look.

My desperate quest to somehow keep my obsession in check had brought me down to my knees.

Crouching into that torture column, I wrapped up the system of cables I had mounted into it and measured it out with my multimeter to make sure the signal I needed was there.

Distracted by that task and the music, Dad's absence escaped my attention. What didn't escape me was the slight strain all that bending and crouching had caused in my legs and waist.

So I flipped myself around, laid down on my back, planted my soles on the floor, looked up at the ceiling and took a troubled breather. My thoughts drifted aimlessly.It was becoming too much to handle.

Sensations caught me then. For a second my brows furrowed. Floor dust itched my lower back--and air found skin where my shirt should've been. So I glanced down and saw that my shirt had somehow worked its way up to my chest.

One of my hands came to pull it back into place as I peeked to my left... and then time stopped.

Tucker loomed there, drill in his hand, gaze fixed on my exposed skin. His chest rose with a low inhale. A blink flicked his gaze to mine.

I couldn't move. Just looked back at him, attraction bringing a cautious grin.

Excitement surged. Tucker moved two steps and towered in front of me, his feet next to mine. Then he leaned forward a bit, rested his forearm on the column's wooden frame, wiped sweat from his forehead on it... and looked down at me.

That's when I saw it.

Tucker wasn't upset, or angry.

He was calm. Relaxed. And he roamed my body. Without a hint of reluctance or apology. That inhale left his chest smoothly. Unmistakably loaded. He took me in--deliberate, openly, demanding.

Sex exploded in me instantly. My lips parted. So did my knees. Breath slowed. Fingertips teased my stomach for him all on their own. They dug under my belt, pushed until it revealed part of my hips. An inviting tilt of my head beckoned for him to keep looking as I watched him undress me further in his mind's eye.

Tucker's looks were like touches.And thetingleswere so incredibly fucking good.

"Shouldn't you be working on that shelf?" I whispered.

A grin curled his lips. The spark flared bright. I shivered into its sudden heat.

"Shush," the finger he brought to his lips told me. He raised a brow and nodded at the door, eyes staying with me. We heard Dad shuffle things around downstairs on one of our trucks.

I understood. But my need to be close to him had already taken over. So I dragged my shirt down and crawled from under the barrier keeping me from him.

Tucker stayed.

Beyond words, I rose up to him. The distance between us was gone.All of it.

Arm over my shoulder, his forearm caressed my neck. My chest grazed him, and the heat became violent fire as his gaze flicked between my eyes and lips.

Tickles. He slid his hand under my shirt. Took my waist and pushed me into the frame hard enough for one of the beams to dig into my back.

Leaning into me, the greed in him burned so hot, it took all of my power to stop myself from moaning it at him so loud the house would explode.

He saw it coming. Pressed his thumb to my lips. Then,apull.Ruthless in its demand. It slammed me into him--thumb keeping me quiet as my tongue came for it.

"Tucker." I whimpered, barely sound, "You're--"

He wrapped my waist and pulled again. Shoved me against his granite chest with such force, it shook my entire being, choked out the plea I was about to moan.

I fell quiet again. Just melted in his grip.

The spark in his eyes. It told me: "Don't talk. Just feel."

His thumb confirmed, pushing past my lips. They closed and I sucked, my hand finding the bulge in his pants. His cock pressed fabric into my palm. Wooden beams pressed into my back more. We became fire.

Steps on the staircase.

Tucker looked at the door, back to me, and composure slid back over him, quenching the fire like a falling blanket. Back to the shelf in the blink of an eye, he left me there to douse my own heat.

Dad's loud steps gave me only two, maybe three breaths to somehow pull myself together. My crazed attention darted around. Multimeter! I picked it from the floor, grabbed a screwdriver and clumsily shuffled for one of the wall-sockets I hadn't installed yet.Breathe, Jack!

Dad appeared in the doorframe behind me, none the wiser. He scanned the room, nodded approval, and set the boards he was holding down against the wall.

"All good in here?" he asked casually, Foo Fighters playing in the background.

"All good." I panted, still out of breath.

"Yup. Took you long enough." Tucker sounded perfectly cool.

Work carried on... while my thoughts spiraled to a wild mess of doubts and exhilaration.

Did this really just happen?

Every move became a deliberate act, because I couldn't believe it.

Tucker squashed the doubts just seconds later. A subtle grin under an otherwise calm demeanor. Out of nowhere he had dialed my sexual torture up to 1000 and he obviously enjoyed what it did to me.

Secret strokes of his hands on my ass kept me reassured this wasn't a slip up. He kept them coming, while striking up distracting conversations with Dad. They protected me from the fallout of what he was doing--in ways kicking my unraveling lust for his cock up to an intensity I couldn't even hope to handle.

He'd given me tastes of a radical change in him. Very intentional. Even though we both knew this was absolutely not the time and place. Tucker's shift to that hidden assertiveness felt sadistic and amazing at the same time.

Finding a moment behind Dad's back I faced him and flailed my arms. "What the fuck!" I voiced at him quietly, shaking my head. And he answered with a telling wink, made me burst to a fit of emotions so intense, they threatened to launch myself into his arms then and there.

The grave danger of it all hung thick in the air, obviously. So my determination came to lend the self-control I needed to finish the job at hand and keep Dad in the dark.

We would talk soon...and fuck. Long and hard.

But not here. Not now 😫.

As the sun settled into its afternoon light, we probably both thought it would end with the memory of this incredible moment.

Coincidence had an entirely different plan, though.

It decided to ring Dad's smartphone.

Tricia... You're The BEST!

"Hey, Tricia. How's it going." Dad greeted the caller.

We turned to him.

Tricia was a very kind brunette in her 50s. She worked desk at one of the building supply stores we often used. But her call at this time probably meant bad news.

Dad's face dropping to angered concern confirmed my suspicion.

"That's a problem, Trish." he said. "Can't you find someone else? It's not like this is a big--"

Tricia interrupted. Dad's glare darted between the two of us as he paced, listening.

"Hm. I see.Fuck." he rumbled, "Well here's the thing, Trish: Tomorrow's a no-go. We'll be in breach of contract by then. Neither of us needs that.Youdon't need that. If the guy decides to take another one off, you'll have to foot the bill for penalty. Big one."

The voice on the other end became more audible. Dad mustered me briefly, then he reigned in on it.

"Tricia,Tricia, calm down. It's okay, no worries. Listen," he huffed, "I got a better plan: Just book the whole thing for tomorrow. Doesn't matter. We'll just pass it on to customer anyways. But do me the favor and tell Markus or David to park a stack outside on a forklift. Right now, please. I'll be there in half an hour tops. We needoneat least, Trish.Today. The rest can wait."

Audible hollering at someone else from Tricia. A pause. An answer. Then relief.

"You are my sweet angel, Trish." he approved. "Need coffee?"

Laughs eased the tension. "Matcha Latte," Dad chuckled, "You got it."

Dad mustered us both once more as he hung up. Then he turned to Tucker and stretched out his arm.

"Keys," he demanded.

Tucker's raising eyebrow asked what had happened.

"Fuckin' driver called in sick. They can't deliver the drywall." Dad groaned, "Your bed's empty. Carry on, you two, I'll be back in an hour and a half."

Dangling keys fell into Dad's hand.

I stood up, legs weak, heart pumping so hard it almost fainted me.

On his way down the stairs I heard Dad holler, "Let me know if you need food or anything!"

Adrenaline fired into me like grenades. I knew exactly what food I needed and there was certainlynoneed to fill Dad in on what it was.

When I met Tucker's brown eyes my chest stopped heaving. The grin hadn't left him. It was tense now. Full of anticipation.

Explosion

We both stood there in heavy silence, listening to the V10 of Tucker's truck roaring to life, like it announced something we both felt coming, not leaving. Wheels spun across gravel. Dad sped off through the window's glare.

And then my back slammed into the wall behind me.

Its impact ripped out of me in shock.

Before I realized it, my feet were off the floor.

The screwdriver slipped out of my hand, tumbled across the floor as the abrupt loss of gravity lifted me higher--hoisted my legs up.

Tucker!

I wrapped my legs around him. Fingers clawed my asshard. Lips muffled my astonished gasps. Instinct shoved my tongue into him.

The moan he blasted into me then sounded like the detonation it was.

It didn't care to be quiet, or ask for patience. We violently blew up in pure, open lechery. Fragrance of sawdust and opportunity mingled with it, blowing shackles away for us tofinallyburst free.

For one hour at least, the world belonged to us.

The kiss was brutal. Aggressive. My thighs clutched him strong enough for his ribs to fracture if they had been mine. Tucker didn't flinch. He pressed me to the wall with sheer force, and yet his power kept me safe in his arms.

I embraced him with unhinged, carnal noises. Grabbed his chin. Licked and teased. Locked eyes with him. A bite of his lip flared the red hot fury in them, scorching us both.

It blurred my world into long streaks as he tossed me around.

Awhamof my back on the floor.

Dust swirled away from me, casting sunbeams around us. They sparkled while I seized his collar and yanked our lips back together.

Awestruck, I fell prey to my lion. Exactly where he wanted me. Exactly where I belonged.

He ripped the shirt off me in one stroke, slapped my arm out of the way and sunk his teeth into my nipple. I hissed--weiled like a little lamb, tousled hair on the back of his head for him to bite sharper as he wrenched a thundering moan out of me, then lapping my euphoria up in trails from chest to my shuddering lips.

Wild panting and greed kept them close when our tongues separated, allowing us a tiny instant to savor this heat between us. A little island of tenderness in the firestorm of our lust, only for it to explode a second later.

Hectic moves of my instinct stopped his attempt to say something. It spoke for him. A thumb shot to his lip. The other one into my pocket as he kissed my palm, watching.

Coconut oil.For dry lips.Now for his cock in my ass.It would have to do.

I snatched the small tube and held it between us, hectic breath tangling with a knowing smile. Then I screamed at him, hammering the tube into his hand like a deja vu.

"Shut up and fuck me!"

Tucker glanced at the tube. A mean yet thankful grin. He slammed it on the floor.My pants were still in the way.

By the time I had kicked away my shoes he yanked waistbands and I was naked, pants flying into the wall, socks included, his t-shirt landing on them.

Muscle flexed.My god he is such a fucking stud.

Hands fumbled. His belt flew open and down.

Tucker's huge cock said hello. Hard. Thick.

Oil made it shine in a heartbeat. He took the back of my knee and launched it up towards my head.

Then he pushed.

Pain.

It ripped into me. Winds of my choked cries sent dust motes flying as it tore me open. Without pause this time. I clawed my fingernails into that sweet anguish until it almost bled from Tucker's forearms. But he didn't care. No mercy from him this time. My body didn't stop screaming for him to push harder, for him to fire his strength into my hip and pull, tearing squeals of delight out of me, leaving my head to fall back to the floor as I gave myself to him.

In less than three seconds his throbbing cock forced its length into me and I broke down. My hand found his and held on to him. Every last part of me fell for his manhood skewerering me with that thick, veiny rod of steel.

Obliterated gasps. Convulsions burned through me, clenching him with desire.

They stopped when his hand slammed down on my mouth.

"Quiet! Take it like the greedy little slut you are."

Raw dominance called for me to submit. Because he knew I was addicted to it, barely seeing him through my glistening, blurry daze. But I felteverythingdeep inside of me. Whimpered into his palm. Nodded obediently as Tucker came to destroy me, right here on this dirty fucking floor.

Quick and Dirty III - Electric Fire

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