I Landed Before Boarding the Plane

short stories

Short Story

 

I was driving to a bar, drinking a bottle of wine. I pulled into the parking lot, finished the bottle, and walked in. The place was packed. It was always packed on Friday nights. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer.

Over the next two hours I got amazingly drunk. I was contemplating going home when a girl I used to date walked by. Without saying hello I asked her to come outside with me. She looked confused.

“Why?”

I told her it was too loud in the bar and I wanted to talk to her. She said it wasn’t that loud at all.

I said, “Look. I’m trying to hook up. Will you just come outside?”

She said okay. I grabbed her hand and power walked her to my car. We got in. She started to say something but I shut her up with a sloppy kiss. Way too much tongue. We got naked. I wanted her badly but my penis wasn’t cooperating. The smell of stale beer coming from the empty cans under her feet wasn’t helping. I tried to focus. She licked and sucked on my soft cock while I fingered her. I felt bad. I never like for my cock to remain flaccid for longer than thirty seconds when I’m getting a blowjob. I’m afraid the girl will think it’s a reflection on her. It never is. I just have a shitty dick sometimes.

I kept playing with her pussy, trying to engage myself. She moaned with me in her mouth. I liked that. I pushed my fingers deeper in her. She moaned louder and I started to feel something. Soon she had me fully erect. I reached over her and pulled a lever, leaning her back in the passenger seat. I made a move to get between her legs when she stopped me.

“I don’t think we should have sex.”

I’d heard the same words before but they’d never hurt so much. I gave her what I thought to be a strong counterargument, but she was not to be swayed.

I said, “It’s all good. We don’t have to fuck.”

I settled back into my seat and put my hands behind my head. She took the hint. She started blowing me again. Usually when I’m getting head I try to hold out for the real deal, but seeing how I wasn’t getting that, I decided to dump one in her skull as quickly as possible. It was a weird sensation. It goes against human nature. Using all of my brainpower, I pushed my whole consciousness down to my loins until my entire being was simply my dick. I felt everything. The nerve endings in my dickhead stirred. I began to tingle, approaching climax. I could tell it was going to be powerful. The countdown to blast off was underway. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6.

“I think I want to do it now.”

What the fuck did this bitch just say?

“What’d you say?” I asked her.

“Let’s fuck,” she said.

I didn’t know what to do. I was close to the point of no return, possibly past it, but when a lady wants the dick, the dick is what a lady’s gonna get.

I got a condom out of the glove box and tried to breathe slowly. I was still tingling. Her face was close to my dick and her warm breath was almost enough to make me pop. I knew I needed to proceed with caution. Pushing myself to her side of the car I got on top of her. I looked at her tits and I knew it was too late. My cock was throbbing uncontrollably, taunting me. I told myself I could do it. I told myself I was in control, but I was wrong. I took the condom out of its wrapper and began to roll it on. The condom was so tight and wet hugging my cock, I couldn’t help it. I landed before boarding the plane. I shoved my ejaculating cock in her and gave her four-and-a-half solid strokes, desperate to salvage something from the already pathetic performance. I stopped, pulled the traitor out, looked at her, and said nothing. She knew what time it was.

We got dressed in silence. I laughed as we walked back to the bar. She didn’t even smile. I sat at the bar again and ordered a beer. She didn’t join me. I drank up. Later I saw her pointing at me and shaking her head, talking to another girl. I knew she was explaining what had just happened, my embarrassing experience, but I didn’t care. I felt good.

 

more by S.P. REILLY 

photograph by John Price

 

Image Curve’s Manifesto

Hire An Editor
Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail

S. P. Reilly

A drunk stationed in Houston, Texas. I write short stories and make tasteless rap music.
https://soundcloud.com/sketch-the-bottom-feeder

You may also like...