Again, I was in the Navigator with Dirk. His fucking had become more passionate. He was nearing a climax.
The vehicle sped faster and faster down the road. The turns became more treacherous, and we almost spun out of control. We made it through each turn, even though Dirk pounded into me relentlessly with a throbbing dick that seemed so much bigger than I remembered. It was comically large, and I felt like he spread me to limits I had never experienced.
Endorphins and euphoria rushed through me as I climaxed. My pussy squeezed his cock and almost sucked him inside me, in my desire to keep him close and safe within me.
When he finally climaxed, spurting cum inside me, the SUV hit the embankment on a curve and flipped over it. The vehicle crashed and spun, but I hovered above the scene now. Everything played out before my very eyes in a horrific fashion. The rolls. The flips. Crashing into rocks and trees. Shattering glass. Bending steel. The full force of the crash.
A scream.
That was my scream.
When the vehicle stopped plummeting down the hill, white smoke and steam spilled from the engine. Vibrations from the bent frame of the Navigator swept over me. They pulled me down. Into the front seat. Back inside.
Inside my body.
“Dirk. Are you okay?”
His body lay lifeless, head pressed into the steering wheel. A stream of blood flowed down his cheek and dripped onto his shirt. His beautiful black suit spotted with red, like blood tears.
“Dirk. Are you okay?”
He didn’t move. He didn’t respond.
My head throbbed. I touched the wetness on the side of my head. When I brought my hand in front of my vision, I could see the red blood on my fingers. That liquid rolling down my cheek and neck wasn’t water. It was my blood.
I looked around the cab. I tried to unbuckle my seatbelt. My arms wouldn’t move, though. The pulse in my temples forced my eyes closed. Blackness laid its veil over my eyes again.
* * *
I didn’t know if I was dead or alive. The images that flashed before my eyes seemed dream like and prophetic. I didn’t know if what I saw was real or just my active imagination. The whispers through the swirling black smoke seemed authentic enough. Dirk’s calling for me seemed unreal.
The crash replayed multiple times, each time the same, but different. Sometimes the entire scene was tinged in red, as if looking through a filtered camera lens. I experienced the crash from inside the Navigator and from without. Sometimes Dirk answered me. Most of the time, he didn’t. He was always bathed in blood and black smoke swirled around us.
I had sex with Dirk multiple times. In the car careening down the hill. In the surrogate room. In my bedroom. In a booth at The Penthouse overlooking the ocean and the hills. Each time he stretched me and I could feel his cock and his love penetrate me.
They were the craziest and most fulfilling sex dreams I had ever had.
I didn’t know how long I lay in this state.
I just know that eventually I woke up and knew I wasn’t dreaming any longer.
First, it was the smell. The pungent odors of mildew and mold overwhelmed me so much I had to sit up.
I blinked my eyes until the sleep and dream drifted away and scanned the surrounding room. I was in an office. A long-abandoned room.
A dusty desk occupied the back end of the room to my right and the light from a desk lamp provided a dim light that didn’t quite reach every corner. Neglected steel filing cabinets stood silently against the opposite wall. A door with glass on its top half with a name painted on it was to my left. Frosted glass filled the top half of the walls to each side of the door and one side had dilapidated blinds while the other side only had the strings hanging down.
I sat on a beat-up, black futon, the mattress ripped and torn with white stuffing showing in multiple places. The smell of mold and mildew made me wrinkle my nose. I had to sit up to get away from the smell.
I tried to swing my legs to the side, but a sharp pain brought me to a stop. A handcuff around my right wrist with the other end around the steel arm of the futon held me firmly in place. I fell back against the futon and pulled closer to the end so I could rest my arm on the bar.
Pain shot through my head, my shoulders, and my lower back as I moved around. My stomach roiled with nausea, but also growled with hunger.
How long have I been here? How did I get here?
I heard heavy footsteps and the click of heels on a hard surface approaching. The silhouette of three figures appeared on the other side of the frosty glass before the door opened. A big man opened the door and I could just make out Stu’s face.
My heart leapt, and I shrank back further into the futon.
