Maka
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jan 17, 2003
- Posts
- 1,432
Despite the circumstances, Will found it difficult to tear his eyes away from Zoe. Her eyes closed in mock-ecstasy, she was lavishing the kind of loving attention and expert technique on the barrel of van der Sluys' gun worthy of a very different object. Van der Sluys was breathing heavily, wheezing hoarsely -pig-like, sunken eyes greedily taking in the exquisite lines of Zoe's underwear-clad body and labouring mouth.
The only man in the compartment not hypnotized by the profoundly erotic sight was Jones. There was nothing but calm indifference on the Welshman's face as he watched a beautiful, half-naked woman put absolutely everything she had into a simulated blow job.
Then there was a choking sound. Van der Sluys was ramming the gun down Zoe's throat, relentlessly pushing it forward. Tears were streaming down her face, muffled noises of protest coming from her mouth as she scratched ineffectually at van der Sluys' gun-hand.
Will had never seen Zoe like this -helpless, frightened, making animal noises of distress. It was horrific. Coolly collected, teasing, consummately self-possessed Zoe Brigandeau, with the grace of a dancer and the poise of an empress. She'd always seemed in an untouchable class of her own, another species of woman. Admittedly, Will had been harbouring plans to break through that reserve himself -but in a far more pleasant way. He'd wanted to make Zoe scream in ecstasy, not fear, wanted to go down on her until she melted and then fuck her until her legs gave way, not play sick games with her.
He wasn't going to let van der Sluys hurt Zoe. He didn't want to see her like this ever again. Without even thinking about the gun trained on him, he rose to his feet and charged at van der Sluys, delivering a fury-fuelled punch to the side of the vicious Dutchman's head. Van der Sluys fell down but the next thing Will felt was a sharp and painful crack at the back of his head and he himself collapsed.
Lying on the floor, he regarded Jones above him. That indifference had vanished from the Welshman's face. Now there was a gleam of pure sadistic joy in those light-coloured eyes. Jones had hit Silence with the butt of his revolver -now he held the gun up, reversed, and sent the butt flying into Silence's ribs again and again, listening for the crack of breaking bone.
Van der Sluys was back on his feet, warding Zoe away with a flourish of the gun he still held, its barrel now slick and shiny. Despite the livid bruise on the side of his head, there was a grin on his face. He walked over to Will and kicked him in the side. Steeltoed jackboots, Will noted, while an explosion of pain shook his athletic body.
"Not so fucking smart now, are you?" van der Sluys asked.
Smart-aleck response.
"Fuck... you," he gasped, instead. Van der Sluys' smile just widened.
"So there is a way to hurt you. We all have our vices. But you don't just crave pussy, do you? You've got a weakness for women. For this whore."
He seized Zoe's face in one meaty hand and forced her to regard Will.
"Hmm. I wonder if it works the other way. Does seeing Silence hurt bother you, Zoe? Part of me hopes it doesn't. That'd be funny. But let's see. Hit him, Jones."
Jones obliged with another rib-cracking punch, that familiar light of pleasure shining in his eyes. For the first time since boarding the train, Will suddenly wasn't sure that this was all going to have a happy ending. His eyes met Zoe's and he gave her a rueful wink. It had been a hell of a ride, and being beaten to death by a psychotic Welsh mercenary aboard the Alexandria express train wasn't exactly the big finish Will had always had in mind, but those were the breaks.
***
She was talking to him. She was shaking his hand, her grip firm and tight, her slender little hand even smaller within his grip. Admittedly, she had giggled at his first awkward introduction, but not, Tony felt, in a meanspirited way. It was the unaffected amusement of a girl equally prepared to laugh at herself as at others. And now she was looking at him admiringly -this gorgeous, auburn-haired creature wanted to know about him, thought he sounded exciting. A much stronger man than Tony would have the impulse to brag hard to resist.
"Well, I'm not exactly a tourist..." Tony said, trailing off in what he hoped was a mysterious, impressive manner. He glanced at his own compartment. Fritz and Manny were now in a heated argument and not glancing at him. What was the point of being a globe-trotting gunslinger if you couldn't use it to make unbelievably pretty girls from Boston swoon and drop their panties?
"No," he said, with growing confidence. "I'm not exactly travelling with my aunt."
That had been meant to sound intriguingly mysterious, but on review it just sounded odd. But those melting blue eyes were fixed on him admiringly, those sweet, cupid's bow lips curved into a smile. He could reclaim this.
"Let's just say I'm here on business," he said, nodding meaningfully.
The only man in the compartment not hypnotized by the profoundly erotic sight was Jones. There was nothing but calm indifference on the Welshman's face as he watched a beautiful, half-naked woman put absolutely everything she had into a simulated blow job.
Then there was a choking sound. Van der Sluys was ramming the gun down Zoe's throat, relentlessly pushing it forward. Tears were streaming down her face, muffled noises of protest coming from her mouth as she scratched ineffectually at van der Sluys' gun-hand.
Will had never seen Zoe like this -helpless, frightened, making animal noises of distress. It was horrific. Coolly collected, teasing, consummately self-possessed Zoe Brigandeau, with the grace of a dancer and the poise of an empress. She'd always seemed in an untouchable class of her own, another species of woman. Admittedly, Will had been harbouring plans to break through that reserve himself -but in a far more pleasant way. He'd wanted to make Zoe scream in ecstasy, not fear, wanted to go down on her until she melted and then fuck her until her legs gave way, not play sick games with her.
He wasn't going to let van der Sluys hurt Zoe. He didn't want to see her like this ever again. Without even thinking about the gun trained on him, he rose to his feet and charged at van der Sluys, delivering a fury-fuelled punch to the side of the vicious Dutchman's head. Van der Sluys fell down but the next thing Will felt was a sharp and painful crack at the back of his head and he himself collapsed.
Lying on the floor, he regarded Jones above him. That indifference had vanished from the Welshman's face. Now there was a gleam of pure sadistic joy in those light-coloured eyes. Jones had hit Silence with the butt of his revolver -now he held the gun up, reversed, and sent the butt flying into Silence's ribs again and again, listening for the crack of breaking bone.
Van der Sluys was back on his feet, warding Zoe away with a flourish of the gun he still held, its barrel now slick and shiny. Despite the livid bruise on the side of his head, there was a grin on his face. He walked over to Will and kicked him in the side. Steeltoed jackboots, Will noted, while an explosion of pain shook his athletic body.
"Not so fucking smart now, are you?" van der Sluys asked.
Smart-aleck response.
"Fuck... you," he gasped, instead. Van der Sluys' smile just widened.
"So there is a way to hurt you. We all have our vices. But you don't just crave pussy, do you? You've got a weakness for women. For this whore."
He seized Zoe's face in one meaty hand and forced her to regard Will.
"Hmm. I wonder if it works the other way. Does seeing Silence hurt bother you, Zoe? Part of me hopes it doesn't. That'd be funny. But let's see. Hit him, Jones."
Jones obliged with another rib-cracking punch, that familiar light of pleasure shining in his eyes. For the first time since boarding the train, Will suddenly wasn't sure that this was all going to have a happy ending. His eyes met Zoe's and he gave her a rueful wink. It had been a hell of a ride, and being beaten to death by a psychotic Welsh mercenary aboard the Alexandria express train wasn't exactly the big finish Will had always had in mind, but those were the breaks.
***
She was talking to him. She was shaking his hand, her grip firm and tight, her slender little hand even smaller within his grip. Admittedly, she had giggled at his first awkward introduction, but not, Tony felt, in a meanspirited way. It was the unaffected amusement of a girl equally prepared to laugh at herself as at others. And now she was looking at him admiringly -this gorgeous, auburn-haired creature wanted to know about him, thought he sounded exciting. A much stronger man than Tony would have the impulse to brag hard to resist.
"Well, I'm not exactly a tourist..." Tony said, trailing off in what he hoped was a mysterious, impressive manner. He glanced at his own compartment. Fritz and Manny were now in a heated argument and not glancing at him. What was the point of being a globe-trotting gunslinger if you couldn't use it to make unbelievably pretty girls from Boston swoon and drop their panties?
"No," he said, with growing confidence. "I'm not exactly travelling with my aunt."
That had been meant to sound intriguingly mysterious, but on review it just sounded odd. But those melting blue eyes were fixed on him admiringly, those sweet, cupid's bow lips curved into a smile. He could reclaim this.
"Let's just say I'm here on business," he said, nodding meaningfully.