Trophy 5

He eased her back, guiding her by the hand he had at her crotch, until they were at his car and he drove her back onto the hood. Agnes fell back, then sprang back up—trying to, thrusting her chest up, but slipping on all the taffeta that lubricated the contact between her ass and the hood. Frank ignored her flailing. He threw open her skirt, shucking it up to her crotch, where black garters held up her white stockings. Frank left them be, going for her panties instead—black over a silver-pierced clit. He ripped them away and saw that she looked even wetter than she had felt a moment ago. Her clit piercing glinted in the scattered sunlight coming through the trees, stinging Frank’s eyes as it bounced around with her heaving body.

Frank unbuckled his belt and drew down his zipper. When he hauled his erection out into the open, Agnes literally went slack-jawed.

“Oh fuck, baby, oh fuck—can you hold one of the guns while you’re fucking me? Oh shit, hold the G-36, baby, please, I’ll suck it while you’re fucking me—”

Frank tried to take it easy on her. He went in slow, and with every inch he fed her, she banged her head on the hood. The hammering sound rolled off the hardbody and out into the sun-struck plains. It was sorely pressed to compete with all Agnes’s gasps, her panting, little muttered oaths at how much of him there was for her to take.

When he’d given her all of it, Agnes threw her hands up to his chest, scratching at him through his thick shirt. “Please, Frank, please, you can use the MP-5 if you want…”

He cinched her arms at the wrists and held them down by her head. He was already letting her put a dent in his car. Tearing his shirt was too much of an ask.

Still he tried to go easy on her, moving slowly between her trembling thighs, like the slow roll of the surf over the beach on a windless day. Agnes took it like she was being electrocuted, moaning and sobbing and trembling so hard he would’ve thought she was faking it if he didn’t feel the ripples of pleasure consuming her little pussy where it wrapped all around him.

“Oh, yes, yes, CHRIST!” she gasped as he went harder, seeing no point in dragging things out when clearly Agnes’s unmet need was far more painful to her than anything he could inflict.

She quivered in wanton enjoyment, legs spread to three o’clock and nine o’clock and she was trying to get them even wider, her ass jerking off the car like a popcorn kernel bursting, always trying for more of his cock like she was desperate to stretch out her cunt.

Frank would’ve tried to keep her at the edge, to fry her brain a little with denial of the final punctuation mark on her delight, but there seemed no limit to her pleasure already. He thought she might’ve come a little just when he entered her.

“Oh, take me there, dammit, Christ, take me there!” Agnes screamed up to him, her body a passionate seizure, held down only by his larger mass as she reached for the top, trying desperately to hurry that which she was already glutting herself on.

With him holding her down, hands racking her out to keep her vulnerable to his pumping hips, Frank could not keep her head from rearing up, forehead colliding with his nose, then she dug her teeth into his shirt collar, pulling on it like a dog with a bone while her body flung itself up to him, back arching again and again in a writhing dance between himself and the car hood. She subsided, seemingly having energy only for the ecstatic tremors that ran through her body. The only place she wasn’t boneless was her legs, which tied behind his back, trying to keep him in her with a pitiable lack of force.

He tried to come away from her, worrying she’d had enough, but her legs refused to be separated from their cross at his tailbone.

“No, no, not yet, don’t go, stay with me, fuck, fuck, I can come again, I know it, just give me a little more—”

Frank was developing a cramp from rutting at this awkward angle. He picked Agnes up and carried her a few yards away to the Joshua tree, pinning her to it. Her feet dangled far off the ground, kicking every time he thrust into her. There was either no satisfying her or she was determined to keep going until her body gave out. Frank decided that either way, he might as well get off.

He hammered into Agnes, shaking the tree he had her trapped against, its few leaves raining down in ejaculatory trickles. Agnes’s eyes squeezed shut as Frank made his sprint. She seemed to be focused on simply breath after quivering breath. Frank reveled in the knowledge that she both wanted and needed a little roughness; that it didn’t even matter what he did to her, she seemed to be coming from the mere fact of their encounter. He could probably notch himself against her asshole and plow in just as much; she’d love having him as deep there as he was in her belly.

“Unh! Unh! Unh! Uh-huh!” Agnes yipped. Her feet petted his legs. Her hot breath slapped into his clavicle.

Frank was done with her. He thrust fully into her, holding himself at her very core, and released like he was a cannon blasting every sensation, every feeling, every tension out into the distance. He tossed his head back, but it was Agnes who let out a howl, a song of exquisite fulfillment that went on a little after he’d given her all his relief. Her legs fell under her body and all of her became deadweight. Frank lay her down gently on the sand. His hands were shaking as he did.

Always nice to meet a fan.

In the rush of thought that came after the apex of the animal, Frank realized how foolish it’d been to have unprotected sex with her. He wasn’t worried about a bug; Agnes didn’t seem that crazy and he doubted anything he could catch would have the chance to kill him before the Mafia did. But if he got her pregnant… if he once more brought vulnerable life into a hostile world…

Frank literally shook off the thought, sweat flying from his hair. Little chance of that. Agnes would be on birth control. All these modern girls were. They might’ve been wild, but not when it came to that.

Jittering and still breathing hard, Agnes drifted forward until she was sagging against his leg, her arms weakly encircling it, her grinning face pressed to his downed erection. “Frank…?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you could fire off a few rounds with the 40mm? I know a place out in the desert where there are all these rusting old cars… you could really blow the shit out of them, Frank.”

“You know what I think we should do next?”

“Anything, anything…” Agnes whimpered, breathing in the musk of his cock and going slightly cross-eyed.

“I think I should take you back to my hideout, chain you to my bed, and fuck you whenever I feel like.”

Agnes shut her eyes. She didn’t breathe at all. Trembling all over, she reached into the chaos of her tangled skirt until she could touch herself, which she began to do with a shaky grin. In her own little world, she no longer seemed to notice Frank at all.

Frank didn’t do his fly up until he had gathered the weapons and climbed back into his car. He wouldn’t want to disturb Agnes’s fantasy.

“CALL ME!” Agnes yelled after him, once she’d noticed he was driving away.