Richard loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his pinpoint Oxford shirt as the commuter train slowly approached the station. Streaks of yellow and orange foliage flitted by his window. He had no interest. He tugged on his necktie once more. The air in this railcar was always so stale, and he was subjected to it every night. Well, not every night. He occasionally got a Sunday off. Damn tie was so tight. His necktie was a noose, a noose hanging from the gallows that was his city-based office, which was about nothing these days but anemic sales, rocketing bottom lines, and layoffs.
In the station parking lot, Molly was standing by their Benz, waiting. Why was his wife at the station? Oh, yeah, the Halloween party. Richard had mentioned to Molly yesterday that he didn’t have a costume. Molly had just smiled and said, “Let me take care of the costumes, sweetie.” Richard was sure she was planning to get even for last year’s costumes, which he had picked out. Most likely Richard would be showing some skin tonight. Good thing he hadn’t been neglecting his visits to the gym. Jim? Dammit. He never replied to Jim’s email. Richard pulled at his tie and yanked out his Blackberry.
*****
Molly saw Richard through the green tinted train car window. The 8:18 was on time, as always. He was pulling at his tie, AGAIN. Stressed out from work. Molly always told him the job and the money weren’t important, but Richard wouldn’t let up. It wasn’t that she thought he wasn’t listening. He just believed it was his job to provide for her. That Alpha Male thing. Molly loved Richard for it, but honestly, she didn’t think he’d be happy until they had enough so that she would quit her kindergarten teacher job. Molly didn’t want to quit. How could she not adore a job working with kids, finger painting, and playing hide-and-seek?
On the train, Richard was pounding away at his Blackberry, and when he finally noticed the train had stopped, he rose up out of his seat and grabbed his overcoat, all cocksure and graceful. Wowzie, she loved watching him move.
Molly’s goal tonight was to make Richard forget all about work. She cast a gaze over her shoulder at the wardrobe bag on the back seat. It’ll work. It has to work. She shifted uneasily in her jeans. Jeepers! How do men wear these boxer shorts all the time? The bunching up was distracting the heck out of Molly.
The boxers were all part of the costume, though. Last year Richard had picked the costumes, and the Harem Girl outfit he got for her had left her buns and boobies hanging out all over. Sure, her patootie had been hidden behind gauzy pantaloons, but she still felt almost naked in that velvet thong and matching brassiere. In front of all their friends, no less! And oh what fun the guys had with her. Even her girlfriends teased Molly straight through the holidays. Richard ate it all up, too. Easy for him. He had been in an all-concealing sheik’s robe while Molly was on full display.
Molly smiled at the memory. She hadn’t really minded all that much. She still had it going on, body-wise, and turning all those male heads had worked her up into quite the giddy buzz. It was a giddy buzz that she rode all the way home, where her sheik tossed her over his shoulder, carried her through the front door, past the living room, down the hall, and threw her down on their marital bed. He made love to her so hard and strong that after he exploded inside her she couldn’t move her thighs for what seemed like hours. Now THAT was a night. They hadn’t been able to return the Harem Girl costume. It was ripped to shreds.
“My, it’s good to see you,” Richard said. Molly stretched up to kiss him, grabbing his grapefruit biceps for balance. He gave her a hug, as if she’d just rescued him from the Titanic. Her face pressed against his powerful chest, Molly’s nose filled with the last traces of his morning cologne almost completely overridden by his intoxicating man-sweat. Molly loved his strong embrace. That, more than anything else, was what she thought of as home.
“Tough day at the office?” she asked. He nodded. “Well, get in the car. We’ll stop by Starbucks to get changed, and then straight to the party. Tonight you’re going to forget all about frickin work.”
“I’d love that,” Richard replied. He quickly sent another email with his Blackberry, surreptitiously, as if she wouldn’t notice.
As they drove to the Starbucks, Molly went over the details of her plan in her head. Everything had to go just right. Dozens of little snippets of conversation coalesced to feed her ambitions. Over breakfast three weeks ago, Richard had mentioned how much he’d like to just be someone else, for just one day. While watching television two nights later, Richard had talked about wishing he could focus on something else, but the office never left his thoughts. Molly had finally realized how bad it was when they were making love the other night.
The evening had gone well enough. A nice dinner, a little dancing–Richard was a spiffy ballroom dancer; there wasn’t anything he didn’t do well–and some wine by the fireplace. But the whole night it was as if Richard wasn’t entirely there. Even when they were naked, and he was on top of her, and inside her, and transporting her to her ultimate happy place, it seemed like, oh, two percent of his attention was elsewhere. Sure, when she slipped her fingers into his mouth he responded by kissing and licking them, but still his mind seemed divided. It wasn’t until she slipped a moistened finger inside his rear end that his eyes gave her the look which she craved–the look that said she was the center of his universe. “Just remember,” Molly had said, “your boss may rent your mind, but your ass belongs to me.” Richard didn’t respond verbally, but actions speak louder than words, and he rode her home to the place without any words.
Molly could feel the bunched-up boxers in her jeans growing a little moist as she thought about how she would bring Richard to the place without any words.
But one step at a time.
*****
The Starbucks was mildly busy, and from the costumes people were wearing it was obvious that Molly and Richard weren’t the only ones heading to a Halloween party. They both got lattes and sat down to sip at them. It was good to wind down. Richard pulled at his tie.
“Oh, just take that silly thing off,” Molly said. Richard was glad to. “Now hand it over.” Richard did. Molly draped it around her neck, and it hung loosely like a boa. Freckle-faced, and wearing t-shirt and jeans, Richard’s little kewpie doll looked sexy as ever.
“Where are our costumes?” Richard asked. “Or how about you just wear that tie?”
“Jiminy!” Molly said. “I left them in the car. You go in the mens room and start getting out of your monkey suit and I’ll bring them in. I’ll knock twice long and one short, and you let me in.”
“We can change at home,” Richard offered.
“Tut, tut. That’ll make us late. The Thomas’s house is in the opposite direction. Hurry! I’ll be right back.”
By the time Richard heard her knock on the bathroom door, he was down to boxers and socks. Molly smiled when he let her in. “Come here often?” she asked as she locked the door.
“I haven’t yet,” Richard replied, “but I do remember a nightclub bathroom where I did.”
Molly bit her lip. “I remember that too. Good time.” It was indeed. Richard remembered it fondly. One of the many great things about Molly was her adventurous spirit. Richard eyed her as she lifted her t-shirt over her head, her curly brown hair and his tie cascading out of the neck hole. Molly’s full breasts, naked, bounced with the motion. “Got time for a quickie, sailor?” she asked. Molly squatted down in front of him and pulled his boxers to his ankles. “Well hello, old friend,” she said, staring at his penis. She told him to step out of his boxers, and then she took him in her mouth. What was he to do? It’s rude to not listen to a woman who takes your cock between her lips. Richard complied, and rose to the occasion, although he almost fell over when there was a knock at the door.
“Just a minute!” Richard called out. Molly stood up, looking disappointed at being interrupted, but immediately grinned again as she shucked her jeans. Richard’s eyes washed over her toned curves. “Nice boxers,” he said.
“Thanks,” Molly replied. “Now, tie my tie.” Richard turned her around and pulled her close. His ribbed stomach pressed against her smooth back. He reached over her bare shoulders, squatting a bit, and tied a Windsor knot. His hardness rubbed up against her boxer-clad backside. He couldn’t resist a couple of caresses of her full breasts. “Mmm,” Molly moaned. Richard couldn’t believe how sexy she looked wearing only black ankle socks, boxers, and his tie. His lucky tie. Molly’s 5K races paid dividends in the form of the vibrant feminine curves of her calves. Strong legs and stamina came in handy. When Molly quickly pulled away from him, he knew it was because if she didn’t then they wouldn’t leave this bathroom for awhile. The guy outside knocked again as Molly bent over and rummaged through the wardrobe bag she’d brought in. Richard admired the taut smooth skin at the backs of her thighs. She pulled out a pair of pin striped trousers and a baggie filled with glitter. Richard wondered if he was going to be a mafioso this year. Nope. Molly slipped into the trousers. Of course he should have noticed they were way too small for him.
Molly put her hand in the baggie and tossed a sprinkling of glitter onto Richard’s naked body. “Faerie dust,” she said, “to transport you far, far away, to a magical place, where there are no stinking offices.” She leaned close, winked, and whispered, “Only orifices.”
“I like that idea,” Richard replied.
“I bet you do.” Molly pulled out a belly chain from the trousers’ pocket and attached it around her slender waist. “Wow, more magic!” Molly said as she fingered the ornament which hung from the front of the belly chain–a golden tiger’s tooth. “Can you tuck this away for me?” she asked as she spun to face the mirror. Richard reached around and grabbed hold of the gold tiger’s tooth. He slipped his hand under the belt line of her trousers, and under the elastic of her boxers, and teased her shaved privates with the tooth. He breathed heavily on the back of her neck.
“It’s like a little gold dick,” he said.
Molly turned and beamed. “You’re the one with the gold dick.” She pulled a snug jacket out of the wardrobe bag and slipped it on. The stripes matched the ones on the trousers. Once it was buttoned, her breasts pressed together and pinched the necktie between them. A fedora topped off her costume. “I’m a gangster, see?” she said.
“A sexy gangster,” Richard added. “And one who’s turned on.” He held up his fingers, showing her the moisture on them.
“Clean yourself up,” Molly said. Richard reached for the faucet, but Molly grabbed his wrist firmly and guided his fingers into his mouth. He cleaned them with his tongue. “Good boy.”
Molly folded up his suit and boxers. Richard tried to reach for his Blackberry. “No way, Jose,” she said. Producing a cheap cellphone from the bag, she handed it to him. It was pink, with rhinestones and feathers attached to it. There was only one number programmed into it: Big M. “You’re off the Crackberry tonight, buster.”
Molly dumped a plastic supermarket bag on the floor, scooped up the wardrobe bag and headed out. “There’s yours,” she said, motioning to the supermarket bag. “I’ll be waiting outside, casing the joint. Remember,” she said, flicking at some of the gold glitter on his arm, “you’re magical now. Well, MORE magical.” She took the wardrobe bag containing all his clothes and left him standing there in only his black socks. He heard her tell the man waiting outside that he’d best use the ladies restroom.
Richard opened the plastic bag and chuckled. Figures, he thought. He peeled off his black socks and tossed them in the trash–a symbolic goodbye.
*****
Molly pinned her hair back and tucked it under her hat as she waited by the coffee counter for an expresso–didn’t want to get sleepy-headed tonight! If her reflection in the plate glass hadn’t confirmed how sexy she looked, with the trousers cupping her bottom nicely and the jacket accentuating her cleavage to full advantage, then the admiring looks from the male patrons would have done so. As it was, she now had two yea votes for sexy. Yea sexy!
Richard was so cooperative he hadn’t even questioned her when she scooted out of that bathroom with all his clothes. Richard had no choice but to put on the costume, otherwise he’d have to come out naked! Now wouldn’t that be something? With his hot bod he could pull it off, but the two of them might spend the night in jail. Well, Richard would, anyway, and that wouldn’t do at all. She had plans for him.
Her cellphone buzzed with a text message: ARE YOU SERIOUS?
SERIOUS AS SYPHILIS. COME ON OUT, LOVER.
Molly was finishing tying the laces on her wingtip shoes when she heard the bathroom door open. Two teenage girls sitting on a sofa and sipping coffee started squealing when Richard came out. His hairy legs were clad in gartered stockings, and his torso was barely covered by a French can-can girl’s costume. Whoops. Looked like Molly underestimated his proper size. Richard teetered briefly on the two-inch heels.
“Hey, doll,” Molly said, cracking wise as Richard fumbled toward her, “give us some sugar.” The girls on the sofa started applauding. Richard took a bow. “Not so low, sweet-cheeks. Your can-can is popping out.” Richard blushed as he stood up straight. Then he leaned over slightly and kissed Molly on the cheek. Molly grabbed his head with both hands and planted a bold buss on his kisser, her tongue lashing the backs of his front teeth. As she pulled away, Molly said, “Big M expects some affection from his moll, doll. Don’t be gyppin’ Big M when she’s showing you off around town.”
“You got it, Big M,” Richard said with a grin. “I suppose I deserve this after the Harem Girl thing.”
“Oh, Big M will give you what you deserve, sweet-cheeks. Don’t you worry. Now get your ass to the car and don’t talk to nobody, you hear? Nobody.” Richard smiled and left, amid applause from the teenage girls. Molly watched him get to the car and saw the look on his face when he realized it was locked, and that he’d have to stand there and wait for her. Molly took her expresso to a table and sat where she could watch Richard try to defend his skirt against the whipping wind.
So far the plan was going perfect.
*****
The breeze felt odd, wrapping itself around Richard’s stockinged legs and shooting through the mesh of his lace panties. The Harem Girl costume had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Richard was starting to regret last year’s choice. The shoes were killing his feet. His pink cellphone buzzed.
WALK AROUND OUT FRONT. SHOW OFF BIG M’S PRIZE BOOTY AND WALK LIKE A WORKING GIRL, PLUS YOU’LL GET USED TO THOSE SHOES.
Richard gamely strolled back and forth across the front of the store. The lingering smell of Starbucks java beans reminded him he needed to renegotiate with the coffee vendor at the office. A passing car honked in appreciation of his walk, or costume, or both. Richard bowed as if he’d received an Academy Award, but then remembered his lace-covered ass was facing the Starbucks window. He stood up straight quickly, and threw Molly a wink through the window. The teenage girls were enjoying the show.
DON’T LOOK AT ME. AND SWING YOUR HIPS WHEN YOU WALK.
Richard obeyed the text message. A man in biker gear, Richard wasn’t sure if it was a costume or not, said “hey sexy” as he passed by. Richard mumbled back a thank you. His burgeoning erection withered on the vine. Suddenly he didn’t feel so magical. He felt foolish.
Molly burst out of the store and marched toward the car. She looked at Richard and said, “Get in the fucking car.” Whoa. Molly NEVER talked like that. He found it a bit titillating, and so did his penis. “I said get in the car,” she said, “you stupid cunt.” Molly slammed the roof of the Benz with her open palm. Richard opened the door and kind of fell into the passenger seat. Apparently he hadn’t yet mastered the heels. “Very graceful,” Molly said as she sat beside him.
“What’s the matter, Molly?”
She reached over and smacked his groin, right on his surprisingly erect member. “My name is Big M. And I told you not to talk to anybody, bitch.” She tossed a blond wig and a small black purse in Richard’s lap. “Put your hair on, and fix your face. You look disgusting.” Richard muttered an apology, slipped the wig on, and opened the purse. There was only a lipstick in it–Wanton Red. He did the best he could, and then slipped the lipstick and his cellphone in his bag. When he looked up from that, Molly shoved a bootlegger’s flask to his mouth. Warm rum swarmed into his mouth and down his throat. “This should make you more agreeable.”
Molly revved the engine and put her arm around Richard, pulling him close. She reached down to the front of his skirt, checking him like she would a Thanksgiving turkey to see if it was ready. His fully erect penis jumped at her touch. This juicy turkey was fully cooked.
“Big M,” Richard said, “I’m sorry.” He reached over and straightened her lapels, flattened her tie between her bare breasts. Molly patted his cheek and kissed his head.
“You will be,” Molly replied. She twisted his nipple through the can-can bodice. Richard’s cock struggled against the constricting lace panties. It bounced in place. She pulled out of the lot. Richard nestled against her and wondered what she had in mind.
*****
Molly snaked her hand under Richard’s body and onto his leg. He was shaking. It didn’t feel like shaking from cold, or shaking from fear. It felt like shaking with anticipation. Molly looked at herself in the rearview, and there was a huge smile on her face. The plan was working perfectly. Richard was such a good sport. It was one of the things she loved about him.
“Big M? I’m hungry.”
“No problem, sugar.” At the next corner, Molly pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru and ordered a cheeseburger with three packets of catsup. She fondled his lace-clad penis through the skirt while the drive-thru clerk pretended not to notice. The perfume of Mickey Goodness filled the air. “Sit up straight, like a lady,” Molly said, “and touch yourself while Big M eats.”
She watched Richard out of the corner of her eye as she took bite after bite out of the burger. Judging from where his hand was, his erection was at its fullest, albeit pinned to the side by the panties. At one point Molly put the burger in her lap, and Richard looked hopeful. Molly let it sit there while Richard salivated. Molly did her darnedest to fix him with a glare. The look on Richard’s face told her he had no idea what she might be pretending to be mad about.
At a red light Molly said, “You going to just sit there when I’ve got burger juice on my face? Make yourself useful, you dumb cunt, and grab a napkin.” Richard hastily picked up a folded yellow napkin and dabbed at her face daintily. He opened his mouth as if to speak and Molly shot her hand to his crotch, searching for, finding, and crushing his balls. “Were you going to say something?” Richard shook his head no, his blond locks bobbing. “Drink some more rum.” He did. She noticed a smile forming behind the Bootlegger’s flask. Goodie.
Molly let the cheeseburger sit on her lap and continued driving. She pulled into the Homestead Mall parking garage and wound their way up to the fourth level, second from the top. Awash in the yellowed sodium lights, Richard looked puzzled. The mall was closed, and there were no cars on this level. The cold concrete and isolated garage were all grimy and stark. Molly went back to her burger and stared out at the suburban sprawl around Homestead mall, visible over the concrete parapet. The whole town stretched out before them. Horn honks and a distant siren filled the Halloween night air. Molly swallowed the last bite of the burger and killed the engine, still enjoying the night breeze and suburban streetlights peeking out from the treetops.
Richard cleared his throat and said, “Big M? I’m still hungry.” Nifty, Molly thought. Richard had really settled into the meek role which was entirely unlike him. In the script in her head, Molly didn’t think Richard would modify his thinking this easily. Molly figured a complete paradigm shift like this was what Richard needed to forget about work.
Molly bit off a corner of a catsup packet and thrust it in Richard’s face. “Suck it, bitch.” Richard was shocked at first, but soon took the packet and drained it near dry. “Hmm, good job,” Molly said. “Do another.” He did, faster and more completely than the first.
“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Molly said, unable to contain her grin. “You are quite the good sucker.” She eased her seat back and motioned to her trouser fly with both her hands. “Suck my gold dick, bitch.” Richard looked around the garage. There were no cars to be seen, but anyone could come up here just like they had. Richard looked doubtful. “Suck it bitch,” Molly said, “or you’ll be sorry.” She popped open the button on her trousers.
Richard dropped his head down into her lap. She was puzzled at first, but then she realized he was trying to open her zipper using only his mouth. Molly beamed at the full moon rising over the far off church steeple. Richard was getting into the spirit of the occasion. Good.
She felt him take the gold tiger’s tooth into his mouth, and his head bobbed up and down. He pulled her hips gently off the car seat, pulling up on the belly chain. She cooperated and rose in the air slightly, liking the sensation of his drawing her to him. Richard dropped the tiger’s tooth from his lips, and there was an electric pulse through Molly as it bounced against her clitoris. Richard’s tongue darted into the highest folds of her femininity. No doubt he found some sustenance there, judging from his redoubled efforts. He lapped at her nectar. His tongue slid up and down her crevice, his five o’clock shadow wreaking havoc on her hot button. She put a hand on top of his head and pressed it down, further and further into her. Her hips rose off the car seat, and she fucked his face.
She was so close. So close. Had to stop. Too soon. Not according to script.
Then it hit her. Tonight wasn’t only about Richard escaping himself. Molly was going to escape herself too. Only by completely stepping into her role could she enable Richard to escape into his. She lifted his head up by the nape of his neck and then slammed him into her center. Power and freedom coursed through her as she felt no inhibition, no discouragement. She was going to let herself come–here, under the sodium lights, out in the world, as a powerful, selfish man. Oh yes, Molly was the man tonight, and in a man’s world, a man came and didn’t give a damn about his partner. She put both hands on his head and pounded her hips into his face. A car door slammed on the level below. Its engine started, and from the slow squeal of its wheels she could tell it was leaving the garage. The only indication that Richard even noticed was the increased fury of his tongue. Molly felt the familiar swell rise up in her and she reached out and spanked his ass, urging him on like a trusty steed. And like a trusty steed, he brought her home.
*****
Richard lay back and reclined his seat. He felt otherworldly and completely absent from the universe. With a lazy hand he put the tiger’s tooth back in place. Molly shivered when the chain touched her clit. “Drink,” she told him. “You earned it.”
He did as he was told, and said, “I’m not hungry anymore. I fucking love the taste of you.”
“Such a potty mouth.” Molly chuckled as she lifted her tush off the seat again, and slid her boxers and trousers back on. Richard took a long pull. Being a gangster’s moll was quite relaxing, if also a little frightening. “Hey, Big M, what do you think about skipping the party? My dick is sore from throbbing.”
Molly scrambled up from her seat and leapt over the console. She was agile and speedy. Her knee bore down into his aching cock and swollen balls. She grabbed the front-piece of his can-can dress and put her face an inch from his. The pressure increased on his crotch as she found purchase on the dashboard with her wingtip. What had gotten into her? “Your cock is sore? YOUR cock?” She ground her knee deeper into him. “This is MY cock. You got it! My cock, you cunt.” Molly pressed her lips to his and he surrendered to her forceful kiss. He groaned out oh Molly, oh Molly. She replied, “My cock, you cunt.”
Richard felt so helpless trapped under her. Molly was like a hellcat with vengeance on her mind. Her grip was sure, and her lips were unrelenting. Surrendering, Richard rasped, “I’m YOUR cunt, Molly. I’m your cunt.”
Molly pulled away and said, “Oh really?” Her face was a blend of love and ferocity.
On the back seat, inside the wardrobe bag, Richard’s Blackberry buzzed. Instinctively, his gaze darted that way. Molly’s eyes grew large. “Are you fucking kidding me!” she hissed. Richard looked at her and licked his lips. He could still taste her there. “Get out of the fucking car.” Molly started up the engine. Richard started to protest, but she fixed him with a glare. He got out of the car. Molly slammed the Benz into gear and drove off, leaving him there.
Richard watched the car disappear down the parking garage levels. He listened to the squeal of the Benz’s wheels along the concrete.
The lights of the town were visible over the cement parapet, and Richard gazed out at them, lost in thought. He felt like the whole town was looking at him, in his can-can costume. He was exposed. Why did he look at the Blackberry? Why couldn’t he let it go for one night? That was stupid. The town lights blinked no answer his way. He was miles from home. It was too long to walk, especially in these shoes. Leaning over the parapet, he could see people walking the streets, couples strolling arm-in-arm. He wondered what Molly wanted him to do now.
Richard heard a car coming up the parking garage ramp. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was Molly at the wheel of their Benz, the fedora jauntily askew on her head. She took the hat off and plopped it in her lap.
Molly pulled up along side him, right near the edge of the garage, looking out over the town. The windows were rolled up. Richard waited a bit, and finally tapped on the passenger side window. After a pause, she hit the button and it rolled down. She leaned over the passenger’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel.
“Hey, sweetcheeks,” Molly said with a smile. “You working tonight?”
Richard leaned over, into the window, his lace-clad ass mooning the town below, and said, “Absolutely not.”
Molly made a pout. “Too bad. I thought you were a working girl.”
Richard smiled, relieved that Molly wasn’t angry. “Oh, that. Well, you know, aren’t we all working girls? Wait, are you a cop?”
“Nope,” Molly replied. “Quite the opposite.” She reached into her trouser pocket and pulled out a wad of twenties. “Want to earn a hundred bucks?”
Richard looked at the money. Molly was holding it right over the fedora in her lap. “I’m worth a lot more,” he said with a smile. “What do I have to do for a hundred?”
Molly scooted over the console and kissed Richard gently. “Focus on us, for the evening at least. I want one-hundred percent of your attention. A dollar a percent.”
“That I can do.” Richard was starting to cramp up from bending forward and standing in these shoes. The night wind caressed his exposed ass.
“Good answer,” Molly said, and kissed him again, running her hands over his face. “I got another question for you. Who’s your daddy?”
“Big M is my daddy.” A fire truck sped by in the distance, sirens blaring.
“Another good answer. Shall we go for three? Who’s my fucking cunt?” Molly pulled back and cupped his chin in her palm.
Richard muttered out, “I’m your cunt. And I want to fuck you.”
“Potty mouth,” Molly said. Her hand lifted his chin, gently pushing his head up against the top of the window frame. She hit the window button, and the window rose, pinning his head in place, but not cutting off his breath. He couldn’t pull out of the window. “That’s sweet,” Molly said, “but it’s ME that’ll be fucking YOU. Yeah, baby, fucking you hard, my sweet cunt.”
Richard noticed the hat wasn’t falling from her lap. Pinned as he was, he watched as Molly got out of the driver’s side, engaged the child safety locks so he couldn’t open the window, and tossed her fedora on the seat. What had been holding the hat in place? A huge, purple cock jutted out from her trousers. Richard watched Molly through the driver’s open window as she put generous dollops of lube on it, stroking herself like a pervert in a peep show. Richard’s eyes darted around crazily, but no one was in sight. Behind him, though, he was exposed to the entire town.
*****
Molly knew she was off script, but her zeal was uncontainable. Drunk on the flush of power. Molly stood there in her gangster suit, purple cock jutting out in the open air, her wingtips solid on the concrete, and felt more powerful than ever. When Richard had blown her little gold dick, she had felt amazingly strong, but this far surpassed that.
So this was what it was like to strut around with a fat cock. Molly liked the weapon of mass destruction stabbing out from her vuh-jay-jay. Her purple cock was double-ended, so each time she stroked it she sent a jolt up her dripping pussy. This was power. This was a man’s world. Her world now. This was a man’s everyday experience. No wonder they liked it so much.
Molly licked her lips. She was liking it, too.
Her wingtips echoed through the parking garage as she walked around the Benz. The autumn air blew freely. Richard’s legs were spread, his ankles quivered in the high heel shoes. Molly stepped up behind Richard and flipped the rear of his skirt up. Richard’s hands were splayed across the car roof.
Molly squatted down and kissed the cheeks of his ass. The lace tickled her lips. She stood up and moved next to him, putting her lips on his neck. “Do I have your attention now?” she asked.
“Most definitely.”
“Want to earn a hundred bucks?”
“Not sure.”
“Hmm. I could walk home and leave you here like this.” Molly didn’t wait for an answer. She went back behind Richard, squatted down once more, her fat cock bouncing between her toned, strong thighs, and began kissing his ass again. Molly ran her tongue into the crack of his ass, but the lace panties were so tight, she couldn’t penetrate. She pulled them down in the back, exposing his hairy cheeks, but still constraining his junk, and slowly applied her tongue to his cherry hole. She darted her tongue inside, not crazy about the taste, but suffused with arousal over the act. Plus, she was drunk on power. Besides, she was asking him to do far worse. She was able to get her tongue pretty far up, and she slooshed it around. Over the night sounds of the town wafting into the parking garage, she heard Richard moan.
Molly stood up, and her purple cock bounced against his gartered leg. She slipped her middle finger in his butthole. His torso shuddered. Stretching forward, she wiped her tongue on his neck, kissed him there, and then, “Who’s your daddy?”
“You are.”
“Want to earn a hundred bucks, whore?” She worked her finger side to side. Richard nodded his head inside the car. “I can’t hear you. Who’s my fucking cunt?”
“I’m your fucking cunt,” Richard whispered. “Fuck me Big M. Fuck me hard. Make me give you all my attention.”
Molly beamed with satisfaction. “I love you so much, Richard,” she whispered as she kissed his neck once more. Then she moved behind him, looking down at his trapped and helpless body, skirt high, ass exposed, legs in stockings, heels splayed, and she put both her hands on his hips. Molly gripped him as hard as she could. She wanted to leave handprint bruises on him.
She eased her purple penis inside his quivering ass, a quarter inch at a time. He struggled at first, bucking his hips, but he must have been afraid to scream because they were out in the open, kinda. Molly loved that he struggled. It made her feel stronger. Not only did it feed her feeling of ultimate power, but it worked the other end of the dildo inside of her, up and down. Her eyes rolled up inside their sockets. The blood drained from her head.
Eventually Richard relaxed enough that she could push the well-lubed penis all the way in. She took her hands off his hips and reached forward, clutching his shoulders. Her pelvis worked her penis in and out of him, slowly, and she pinched his shoulders, pulling herself in. Her torso writhed with an in-and-out motion, as potent and persistent as the ocean surf. Richard gripped the roof of the car with a crushing fervor.
Once she found her rhythm, Molly ran her hands down his sides, casting her head back, and fucked with abandon. She was a Nor’easter now, a raging, furious, virile storm crashing to shore. From just beneath her waist shot out a power that could move the world. When she got to the tops of the stockings, she looked down and noticed Richard’s knees were bent, and he was pushing his hips back in rhythm with her.
“Split you in two…I will..you cock-hungry whore,” Molly said. She finished each thrust now with a grind against his ass. Richard’s fingers reached out, stretching so straight they bowed backwards. “Swallow my awesome cock with your insatiable cunt.” Molly scraped her nails down his back, and slapped his ass with her open palm. Ride ’em cowgirl!
On a lower level of the parking lot, someone else started their car, and Richard’s body convulsed in wild spasms. Molly realized what that meant, and she worked her body up and down, having been on the cusp the whole time. They came together. She fell forward onto his back.
When Molly tucked Richard back into his seat, she noticed he had come inside the lace panties, which had never been pulled off his cock and balls. They were utterly soiled with doilied gobs of cum.
Molly sat down in the driver’s seat, eased her purple cock out of herself, almost setting off another eruption in doing so. She slid it into the map pocket on the hind-side of Richard’s bucket seat. Richard lay back, utterly spent, and completely inside himself, figuratively, almost as she had been inside of him, literally, moments before. Molly smiled with the thought that she had turned him inside-out. She liked the man’s world.
Molly tossed the hundred dollars into Richard’s lap. “You’re a good fuck, bitch. You earned it.”
Richard picked up the money, counted it, folded it, and tucked it in his purse, clicking the purse shut. Molly started the car, barely trusting her quivering legs with the driving.
“Do you have a spare pair of panties?” Richard asked. “Maybe we should go home and clean up before the party.”
Molly put a hand on Richard’s leg. “I adore you, you know that?” He cuddled up alongside her. “No. No spare panties. No cleaning up. I want you to smell like the fucking whore you are at that party.” Richard didn’t argue. He was full of nothing but surrender now. Molly didn’t believe she had ever loved and admired him more.
*****
The Thomas’s party was in full swing when they got there. The liquor had been flowing, and the dancing had started. It being a relatively mild night, the party spilled out to the brick patio off the kitchen, around the pool.
“What?” Bruce Thomas said, “No Harem Girl?” His wife, Bethany, elbowed him in the ribs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Molly said. “Was I a Harem Girl last year? I can hardly remember. But look, I brought you a can-can girl. Cute, huh?”
Bruce replied, “Cute is one word.”
Richard shrugged and said, “I do the best with what I’ve got.”
“Can you give us a can-can dance?” Bruce asked.
“Not in these shoes,” Richard replied. Bethany, who wore a toga, put her arm through Richard’s and said to her husband, “Leave him alone, Bruce. He’s a good sport.”
“He IS a good sport,” Molly seconded, with a wink.
Bethany put her other arm through Molly’s and led them down the hall. The coat closet was open, and it was brightly lit, with a stool and a camera inside. “First things first. You guys are so late, you’re going to have to catch up. Who wants to go in the confessional, and who wants to start on the jack-o-lantern?”
“I tell you what,” Molly said, eyeing the MTV-style confessional. “We’d both like to go in the confessional, if you’ll shut the camera off.”
Bethany laughed and said to Molly, “You men, always one thing on your mind. I’ll decide for you two. Molly, go confess. We’ll be showing all the confessions at midnight.”
Richard watched Molly go into the confessional. Before she shut the door, she shoved her hand down her pants and must have played with her gold dick, for only him to see. What was she going to confess? He looked around the room. All of their friends were there. Richard suffered through catcalls and propositions. He gave his golfing buddy the finger, but that was a mistake, because his golfing buddy rejoined, “Is that an invite?”
Richard walked with Bethany through the crowded kitchen, where couples were bobbing for apples, and then they went onto the patio. Richard could smell the dried cum wafting up from his groin. Was it a Tell-Tale Heart thing, or could others smell it?
Bethany led Richard to the patio table, where a few pumpkins were left, but mostly it was a pulpy pumpkin crime scene, where seeds and rinds were all that remained of the murder victims.
Bethany rested a hand on Richard’s rear as she told him the rules of the game. “This year,” she said, “you can only use a plastic knife to make your jack-o-lantern. We’ll vote on the winners later.” Richard had apparently gotten to use to his rear being so inviting, he didn’t even flinch from Bethany’s touch. It was rather flattering. “Tuck your skirt under you when you sit, dear,” she said. Richard sat down, chastising himself for being filthy minded. Molly had him completely sexualized.
Charlotte Minnetti was tossed in the pool, and Richard watched her flail about. She was okay, though. Her flapper dress was another matter.
Bethany kissed Richard’s cheek and said softly, “You’re a dirty girl, Richard.” She sat down on the bench next to him, but with her back to the table, so that they were face to face. She put a hand on his stockinged knee. “You’re a dirty, dirty girl.” She sniffed deeply and smiled. “Sexy, but dirty.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Richard replied.
Bethany sniffed twice, and smiled. “Give a Roman emperor a kiss, and I’ll keep your secret.” She slid her hand up and down his leg. Richard sensed a dilemma, but there was nothing wrong about a party kiss. He leaned forward and pursed his lips. She kissed him, slipping her tongue across his lips.
“Easy there, Emperor Bethany,” Richard said. “I have a knife.” Richard held up the plastic picnic knife he had to carve the pumpkin with.
“Ooh,” Bethany said with a smile. “Saucy girl, with spunk.” She sniffed once more. “Yes, definitely with spunk. I’ll leave you to your pumpkin now.” Bethany stood up. “By the way, Molly has your lipstick all over the fly of her trousers, you dirty girl.”
Richard watched Molly walk over to grab a towel for the drenched flapper. Whoops. Tell tale lipstick on her fly. Richard hoped that didn’t make the confessional. He got to work on their pumpkin.
*****
Molly finished up her “confession” and turned off the camera, but sat in the closet for a little while, thinking and resting. She sat on the stool with her legs spread, as she imagined a man would, and she fingered her gold dick a bit more. Molly still felt power radiate from between her legs.
The door opened, and June Smathers, dressed as Marilyn Monroe, came part-way into the closet. The Seven Year Itch costume worked for June, particularly since he hair was already platinum blonde. “Ooh,” June said. “Pardon me.” June was a bit tipsy.
“Come on in, doll,” Molly said. June giggled and entered the crowded space. Molly stood up to make more room. Molly shut the door. June played with Molly’s tie, the backs of her fingers stumbling onto Molly’s exposed breasts.
“Marilyn Monroe,” Molly said. “Every man’s dream. The ideal of sexiness.”
“That’s me,” June said. Her breath was hot with gin. “Marilyn always liked gangsters.” June made a pout and walked her fingers up Molly’s exposed chest.
As if the purple dick were still swinging between her legs, Molly shot her arm across Marilyn’s lower back, and then leaned forward so that Marilyn’s knees buckled, and Molly’s arm along the small of her back was all that held Marilyn up. Molly grabbed Marilyn’s breast roughly, and forced her lips upon Marilyn’s. Marilyn gave up some sugar for Big M, and Big M liked how easily Big M took what she wanted.
Molly plopped June onto the stool, and then flicked on the camera. “Gangsters always liked Marilyn, too,” Molly said. As Molly left the confessional, she saw June look at the camera and say, holy shit.
Molly strutted out to the picnic table where Richard was gamely trying to make a jack-o-lantern with a plastic picnic knife. Reaching into her trouser pocket, Molly pulled out a switchblade.
*****
Richard poked the pumpkin’s stubborn skin with the plastic knife once more, but the pumpkin was proving mightier than the sword. Had they gotten here on time, then at least he would have had company in his misery, since the other guests would be struggling alongside him. Richard shifted his rear end on the picnic bench. Well, he thought, it was worth it, being late.
A hand rested on his shoulder, and Richard thought Bethany might be back for more trouble. He heard a metallic click off to his left, and then a hand shot forward and plunged a real knife into the pumpkin. Richard jumped a bit, but relaxed once Molly’s voice cooed in his ear. “Hey, sexy.”
Richard gave her a kiss. She wrapped an arm around his chest, and placed her other hand on his. Together, they grabbed the switchblade and made quick work of the jack-o-lantern. Richard enjoyed the security of her arms around him.
“I got to tell you,” Molly said. “Having a dick is hard. It goes right to one’s head. I molested Marilyn in the closet. I’m impressed that you can control yourself all the time.”
Richard nodded his head. “It comes with practice. Being a woman isn’t so easy either. I think I owe you an apology for the Harem Girl costume last year.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Well, it’s tough being a sex object. Bethany harassed and borderline molested me.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Molly said. She grabbed the switchblade. “I’ll cut the bitch.”
Richard smiled and put a hand on Molly’s. He wasn’t sure how serious she was, but he retracted the blade and put it into Molly’s trouser pocket just to be safe.
Bruce called out from the French doors leading to the living room. “Time for the confessional tape!”
Molly stood up and took Richard’s hand. “Come on,” she said, “you don’t want to miss this.” Richard teetered to his feet.
“What did you say in there?”
“You’ll see,” Molly told him.
They found a seat in the living room and watched the recorded confessions. Last year, there had been an unfortunate revelation of an affair on tape, so that this year the tape was reviewed by Bruce before it was shown on the big screen in the living room. Everyone agreed this was for the best.
Molly’s hands were all over Richard as she sat in his lap. The confession tape was great fun. The neighborhood found out who stole the Murphy’s garden gnome, and what the secret ingredient was in Albee’s famous steak rub. When Molly’s face appeared on the screen, Richard paid his full attention.
“I have a confession to make,” Molly said on the big screen. “It’s a little private, but, oh, what the heck. We’re all friends here, right.” The crowd hooted and hollered. Richard saw Molly, the Molly on his lap, giving Bethany the evil eye. On the screen, Molly leaned closer to the camera and said, “My dame don’t give me enough sugar.”
The crowded living room erupted in cheers and clapping. Sugar, sugar, sugar, they cried. “Give her some sugar, Richard!” Molly took Richard’s face in her hands and gave him a long, slow, sensual kiss. The applause roared on. Marilyn’s confession came next. Richard didn’t pay any attention to Marilyn, choosing to lose himself in Molly’s eyes.
*****
Molly led Richard out of the Thomas’s front door, out to the curb. The party was still going in full swing, despite it being one in the morning. “What are we doing?” Richard asked.
“We’re going to boost a car,” Molly said. She held up Bethany’s key chain, which Molly had found in the kitchen cupboard.
Richard shook his head no. “Bad idea, Big M.”
A cab pulled up to the curb. The cabbie leaned out of the window and announced, “Cab for Mr. and Mrs. Donnegan.”
Molly smiled and tipped back her fedora. “Well, this is almost like stealing a car.” She tossed Bethany’s keys into the koi pond and called out to the cab, “We’re Mr. and Mrs. Donnegan.” Molly pulled Richard to the cab, and they climbed in the back.
“Where to?” Molly gave him their address. Then, to Richard, she whispered, “Give me some sugar, bitch.” Richard did. They made out like teenagers in the back of the cab. Molly had her hands all over Richard. When the cab ride proved too short, Molly tossed a twenty into the front seat and told the cabbie to drive until that was gone. She ended up giving him twenty more. They drove on.
“Want to fuck a beautiful woman?” Molly asked Richard when they finally came up for air. Richard had his hands down Molly’s pants, and was working the tiger’s tooth across her tinglie.
“Only if she’s my wife,” Richard replied.
Molly smiled. Nice answer. “Tonight, it’s going to cost you,” Molly said.
“Really? How much?”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars.”
“Seems like a bargain, but I’ve only got a hundred.”
The cab pulled up to their house a second time, and Molly tossed a twenty dollar tip to the appreciative cabbie. To Richard she said, “I think we can find you another hundred.”
They got out of the cab, and Richard waited until the cab drove away before he asked, “But what about the other fifty?” They walked across their lawn.
Molly stopped and turned, holding both his hands. “Well, a whore can earn an extra fifty if she’s willing to do something kinky.”
“Kinkier, I think you mean.”
“Yeah, kinkier,” Molly agreed. “A little role-play within role-play, if you will.”
“I will,” Richard said. Molly smiled, and a moistness oozed out down below. This was going to be the ultimate.
Molly kept her hand on Richard’s back as they went up the walk. She unlocked the door and held it open for him. Once in the living room, Molly said, “Sit on the divan, bitch.”
Richard did as he was told. “Too bad you left your dick in the Benz.” Molly didn’t reply. She went into the kitchen, got a bottle of Merlot, and went back to Richard, who sat on the divan near the fireplace. She opened the wine bottle and poured two glasses. “Try to make yourself look seductive you little whore,” Molly said. “And light some candles. I’ll be right back.”
Molly went to their bedroom and pulled off her wingitps, socks, jacket and trousers. The crotch of the trousers was stained with excitement. She enjoyed walking around the bedroom in only the boxer shorts, tie, and fedora. In the walk-in closet, she opened her lingerie drawer and pulled out Richard’s surprise. It was a big red cock, of the same type as her purple one, only larger. Molly got herself ready, and then called out to the living room, “Close your eyes!”
*****
Richard lay on his side on the divan, his eyes closed, one arm behind his head, one leg bent, trying his best to look seductive. He heard the pat-pat of Molly’s bare feet as she came into the room.
“Look at you,” she said. Richard felt her hand on his calf as she lifted his leg. His body trembled, wondering what she had in store for him. Molly eased the high heel off one foot, and then off the other. His feet were relieved to be rid of their torturous embrace. Molly took one foot in hand and started to rub it, bringing blood flow back to his numb toes.
He felt something slip into the crevice beside his big toe. It was cold and sharp. The switchblade! With a quick rip, Molly cut the toe of the thigh-high stocking. She tore it apart. “Keep your eyes closed, bitch,” Molly said. He did.
She knelt on the foot of the divan and slid the flat side of the knife up the inside of his leg. When it got to the garter, she cut the garter in two. The hose slid down. With a sudden move, she thrust the knife upwards. A startled gasp popped out of Richard’s mouth as the skirt of the can-can costume was slashed beyond repair.
Molly must have put the knife in her mouth or on the side, because both of her hands ripped the costume dress apart, until it lay in rags around him. The knife, now back in her grasp, slid up under the lace panties. It toyed with his cock, and then quickly shot sideways, cutting away the panties. His cock throbbed up in the air, bouncing off his exposed stomach. Molly yanked the panties down his other leg, and then threw her weight on top of him. He felt an odd presence between her thighs. But how! It was in the Benz!
Molly swiped the wig from his head and put his panties over his face, the leg hole surrounding the crown of his head. Molly pressed the knife blade against his throat. “Open your eyes, cunt. And see what I’m going to rip you up with.”
Richard opened his eyes. The room was stippled with the lace obscuring his vision. The smell of his own stale cum filled his nostrils. He looked down, and to his surprise saw a red penis between her legs. A rather large red penis.
“It’s so big,” Richard said.
“Shh,” Molly answered, putting the knife aside. She pressed her lips to his. Cum laden panties separated their tongues, but their tongues danced together anyway. “Size doesn’t matter.” With her teeth she removed the panties and spat them onto the floor.
All the faux menace and all the excitement of the night washed away as Richard looked into his wife’s loving eyes. She eased herself inside of him, slowly, oh so slowly, and he felt himself impossibly expanding to take her. Size did matter. It mattered a lot.
Unlike in the parking garage, Molly wielded her cock with patience and grace. Richard felt filled and fulfilled, completed in a way. He ran his hands up her arms and onto her shoulders. He had never fully appreciated the strength in her. He never appreciated the solace to be found in utter surrender. But he did now. Her breasts bobbed in front of his face, and his hips rose up to meet hers. They rocked for what seemed like hours that way, and Richard was sorry they’d never done this before. He was sorry for the lost time, for that meant that over what he knew would be the long span of their marriage, those lost years meant they’d only be able to do this that much less.
Molly toyed with his mouth, and rested her chest against his, and they both rocked back and forth. Richard couldn’t recall who said it first, or how often they repeated it, but the candlelit air of the living room was filled with I-love-you’s.
Richard was exhausted when Molly finally pulled out of him and climbed off him. She reached onto the floor and tossed one hundred and fifty dollars into his lap. Molly was walking funny when she left the room. “Come to bed when you can,” she whispered.
It was a while before he could. Later on, he hobbled into the bedroom, clutching two hundred and fifty dollars.
Molly was on their bed, wearing only his tie and the fedora now. Her fingers were pressed inside of her. “Hey lover,” she said. Her breasts swayed as she arched her back. “You look gorgeous as ever.”
“I have the money,” Richard said.
“You don’t need it,” Molly replied. She tossed the hat away. “I learned something tonight, you know. I learned that a cock is a dangerous instrument. All that power went to my head. And I learned that I should respect you for controlling yours as well as you do.”
“I learned something too,” Richard said, as he stood by the door. His penis grew large once more, seemingly inexhaustible tonight. “I learned that you are the center of my universe.”
“Richard,” Molly said. “Do you love me?” Richard replied that of course he did. “Would you do anything for me?” He nodded. “I’ve been bad, Richard, and I need you to come over here and fuck me hard. Fuck me as if this might be our last chance, even though it surely won’t. Fuck me with your majestic cock, and rip my pussy to pieces, and leave my legs so that they are numb and useless. Can you do that Richard? Fuck me like you never have before, and fill me with your love and ejaculate, and kiss my lips so that they’ll forever know your touch. Can you do that for me Richard?”
Actions speak louder than words. Richard didn’t reply. He complied.
No one could get out of bed the next morning.
Across town, Richard’s Blackberry died of neglect.