Avoiding Amy Jackson (2 page)

Did Regency have crack inside of the free booze tonight?

“Do you have a big dick, James?” Her inside voice is more like an outside voice. Or a voice you would use to speak in the middle of a rock concert.

The shock and audacity of her question takes me off guard and I sputter a little.

“Uh…
what?”
I look in my rearview mirror as I switch lanes on the highway.

“Do. You. Have. A. Big. Dick?” She somehow manages to leave the drunken slur out when she slowly and precisely pronounces each and every syllable of her question.

I’m not sure how to answer this. She’s wasted and horny, and if I even mention the far-above-average length and girth of my cock, I highly doubt that it will aid me in strategically getting Amy to bed without having to pry her off of my dick. And to answer your question,
yes
, I’ve been known to please many women with the equipment God gave me. I’m not egotistical, I’m fucking honest. They called me Seabiscuit in high school for a reason and it had nothing to do with my interest in equestrian sports.

“We need more music, sweetheart.” I glance at her out of my periphery and grin. I’m desperate to get her mind off of anything remotely sexual.

“Ohhhhhhh I bet your dick is
huge
. I could tell when I was running my hand up and down your pants at dinner. Let me touch.” She starts to take off her seatbelt and lean over towards me. “Get your dick out, James. Get that big dick out.” Her hands start to grab for my zipper and my eyes go wide in shock. “What, are you hiding an eggplant in here?”

I deftly try to maneuver away from her grabby little hands. For a drunk woman, she’s ridiculously quick. “Let’s save the fun for later.” Jesus, that’s not going to help me. It might tide her over for twenty more minutes, but when I get her back to her apartment, she will be even more ready. My gaze meets hers and I swear she looks like a prizefighter ready to get into the ring and hump her opponent to death. Her lustful eyes are starting to scare me a little. They’re intense, and I’m pretty sure this look right here is Amy’s game face. Her
I’m going to ride his cock until he’s screaming my name
game face.

I’m so screwed.

“I’ve got an idea!” She bounces excitedly and claps her hands together.

“What’s your idea?”
Please say Taco Bell or go to bed or pass out in the car
… Even vomit would work. Her vomiting would definitely get me off the hook.

“I’m going to give you road head! Momma’s planning a party and she needs some salami to go with her cream cheese!” she squeals in excitement and dives head first into my lap.

Cream cheese?

Is she talking about salami roll-ups right now while her face is in my crotch?

Her teeth skillfully move my zipper down and then proceed to unbutton my pants. The feel of her mouth so close to my cock pull my thoughts back to the problem at hand. How in the hell can a drunk girl pull off a move like that? I’m impressed and turned on. Shit, I’m not supposed to be hard right now. Stop being hard! Get un-hard!

Think about your grandma, baseball, fractured bones, torn ACLs…

“Mmmm I can’t wait to taste you, James,” she purrs into my boxer briefs. Oh thank god, my briefs are still covering me. Wait…now she’s starting to pull those down with her teeth! I feel her lips lightly brush the tip of my shaft and I jerk back in response, my mind and cock at war to stop this.

Hell yeah a blow job!

Stop her!

Road head!

Don’t let this happen!

Fuuuuuuuuuck
.

My mind wins the battle as I place my hand down just in time before she starts to take me into her mouth. “Hey! Don’t be a cockblocker! Give me that big cock! God that thing is huuuuuuge!”

Okay, I’m not going to lie; I did smile at the last comment, but seriously, who wouldn’t? Every guy wants to hear that he’s got a big dick.

“Amy, I can’t concentrate on driving with your face near my cock. Please, sit up, put your seatbelt back on, and let me get us home safely.”

She sits back in her seat, clicking her seatbelt into place, crossing her arms across her chest in frustration.

I attempt to brighten her mood. “Don’t be mad. Believe me, I thought that idea was fan-fucking-tastic, but I just didn’t want to risk your safety so I could get my dick sucked.”

I can’t lie, I really like where her head is at right now, and I pray to everything holy that Amy’s mind tends to wander this route when she’s not over-the-top intoxicated. She’s at a crucial point where she is between completely shit-canned and headed straight towards bum-fucking drunk. Yes,
bum-fucking drunk
. The kind of drunk that puts you at risk for having absolutely no inhibitions. The kind of drunk where you would quite possibly fuck a hobo off of the street. Basically, bum-fucking drunk is the worst kind of drunk. This is the type of shitfaced where you wake up the next day in the parking lot next to Walmart with nothing but a woman’s thong on and
King Hobo
written across your chest in black sharpie. The moral of this story is
never
let yourself get bum-fucking drunk. There is one thing I’m convinced of though. If Amy is like this sober, she might be the woman of my god damn dreams…

“Get your
big
dick sucked. Don’t forget the big.” She flashes me an adorable smile. Her face is slightly flushed. I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment or just from all of the alcohol she’s consumed.

I manage to get us to her apartment in record time, with only a few minor complications. Amy screaming out of the window that she’s about to get stuffed with a big dick tonight was one of them. Again,
her words, not mine
.

I get her upstairs into her apartment, and she grabs my hand as she proceeds to drag me to her bedroom. For a petite woman, she’s got some serious strength. We reach her bedroom and she pulls me inside. The door slams shut behind us.

“Take off your clothes, James,” she commands as she slides out of her skirt and then her panties. Then, next thing I know, Amy is standing in front of me, completely naked. She’s stealthy like a ninja—a little drunken ninja.

God, she’s beautiful.

I can’t stop my eyes. They roam down her body and take in every perfect inch of her petite and curvy frame. Her soft, luscious skin. Her devastating curves. Her perfect tits. Her long, toned legs.

I shake my head and attempt to bring myself back to Earth. “Where are your pajamas? I’ll help you get ready for bed, sweetheart.” I start to frantically rummage through her dresser drawers as I look for any article of clothing that will cover up her nakedness. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand here in such close proximity with a very naked Amy without doing something I’ll regret.

“I don’t wear pajamas, James. I sleep naked.” I’m frozen in place and my eyes close shut from discomfort at the idea of Amy sleeping naked every night. Maybe I can just sleep next to her tonight; I won’t touch her. Okay, maybe I’ll only touch her a little bit…

No. No. No.

“James…” she purrs from behind me. I hesitantly turn around to see Amy stretched across her bed. Her brunette hair is splayed out around her pillow, her eyes thick with want and her full, pink lips parted. Her creamy thighs are spread open and she is lightly touching herself. She watches me watch her.

This might be the most painfully erotic moment of my life.

I drag my hand down my face and take a deep breath. This situation continues to get worse by the second, and my cock now stands at attention, saluting her pussy like a god damn soldier. I adjust my pants, attempt to coax my dick to get his head on straight, and realize that sex with Amy is not happening tonight. Fuck, I want her. I ache at the sight of her, but I can’t. I just can’t. She’s far too drunk and I couldn’t be any more sober right now. This just can’t happen. It’s wrong on so many levels.

It might be wrong, but it will definitely feel good to be inside of her…

I have to think fast. I can’t just stand here and gawk at her like a horny bastard.

“James…let me see that soup-can dick… Get it out for me.”

Soup-can dick?

“Yes, baby. Get that soup-can cock out for me. I bet it’s
Mmmmm mmmmm good,
” she moans while she continues touching herself, sliding her fingers through her arousal, rubbing gently on her clit as she continues to compare my cock to a soup can. This has got to be the most preposterous, hilarious situation I’ve found myself in in a really long time.

I sit on the bed next to her, my steely resolve firmly in place, and pull her hand away from herself. She looks confused and slightly shocked when I stop her. I take a deep breath and prepare myself to say the hardest words that will ever come out of my mouth. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I just can’t accept this very generous offer. I mean, I want to…
I really
,
really want to.
But I think you might have had too much to drink and I just…can’t do it. If I were drunk or if you were sober, you can bet that beautiful pussy of yours that I would be naked right here with you, but I can’t take advantage of you like this. Please don’t be mad.”

Amy’s mouth is agape and the expression on her face has changed dramatically. She is no longer the woman who was just begging for my cock. She is now a woman I’m slightly fearful of. Her eyebrows are scrunched, her forehead is creased, and I’m pretty sure she’s about to telepathically light me on fire.

“Get the fuck out!” she screams as she throws a pillow at my face. “Out! Now! Get your pathetic cock out of my room now!”

This didn’t go as planned. Not to script…
at all
.

I jump up off of her bed and hold my hands in the air like I’m being held at gunpoint. “I’m sorry! Amy, I’m so sorry. Don’t be mad, sweetheart.”

“Are you deaf, motherfucker? I said take your pathetic excuse for a cock and get the hell out of my apartment!” she nearly growls at me as her drunken eyes seethe fury.

So I do the only logical thing. I turn on my heels and walk straight out of her apartment, leaving a very naked and more than pissed Amy in her room.

How in the hell did I go from being called
Mmmm mmmm good
to
pathetic cock
? She went from begging me to fuck her to boiling with rage in a matter of seconds. Amy was like a teeny, tiny drunken version of the Incredible Hulk. When she didn’t get the D, she got
very, very angry.

There are a few things I’m certain of now.

1.
     
I don’t like Amy when she’s angry.

2.
     
If I hadn’t left her apartment when I did, she probably would have gone Hulk Smash on my balls.

3.
     
Amy referred to my dick as an eggplant, salami, and a soup can in the span of twenty minutes.

4.
     
Amy is a
big
fan of my cock.

I know tonight was a bust in terms of getting on Amy’s good side, and unless she wakes up with some sort of drunken amnesia, I’ll probably have a lot of making up to do in order to get off of her shit list, but I think it’s pretty obvious that we can go ahead and add a victory for Seabiscuit. Next time—
and there will be a next time
—I can guarantee that this horse will be ready to stud.

Chapter One

“Nothing makes a vagina happier than sex, porn, and lots of masturbation.” - Amy

My vagina has a first name and it’s p-u-s-s-y. My vagina has a second name… I’m screwing with you. I’m not going to sing the entire Oscar Mayer Weiner song and insert quippy words for vagina. My plan is to encourage deep philosophical thoughts on the entire issue that is the female reproductive organ,
vagina
.

Okay, I’m still messing with you.

I don’t always talk about my vagina.

Okay, maybe I’m still kind of fucking with you.

I’m fully aware that I’m highly inappropriate and seem to make a career out of having a good time. When you work in the emergency room day in and day out, you have to find a way to relieve stress, a way to take your mind off of the high-pressure situations you’ve dealt with throughout your shift. Don’t get me wrong, I love working in the ER, but being a nurse in the emergency department of a hospital that receives the majority of trauma victims in the area is a lot to deal with some days. I have shifts where my body feels like it is in a constant state of adrenaline, and believe me, this can take a toll.

My stress outlet tends to revolve around bars, nights out with friends, alcohol, and the occasional one-night stand. Yeah, it’s not the healthiest way to deal with things, especially since I tend to take a college sorority girl approach to drinking.

My full name is Amy Lucille Jackson. My father wanted to name me Lucille after his beloved grandmother, whom I never had the pleasure of meeting, but my mother would only settle for Amy Lucille. She refused to give me a surname that would remind most people of a redheaded comedic actress from the fifties. My closest friends call me Am, my one-night stands most likely call me greedy cunt, and everyone else probably enjoys calling me an asshole. I won’t deny that the latter two are warranted.

I’m twenty-nine years old and a seasoned ER nurse with a propensity for word vomit. I’d also consider myself someone who enjoys sex. It’s a release that aids in my one-woman act of careless avoidance. I joke that I’m an obsessive masturbator, which may or may not be true, and I take a hell of a lot of pride in my well-versed knowledge of porn gifs. The Cliff Notes version, I avoid emotional attachments with sex. I have my reasons. I may not necessarily be proud of the selfish bitch-like qualities my personality tends to gravitate towards, but I definitely own that shit like it’s no one’s business.