The Nutcracker Suite
“Oh, God, Jessie,” Sheila said, her legs spread wide, loosely slung around my shoulders. They’re not particularly broad shoulders, but I like them nonetheless. After all, they do keep my arms attached to my body.
“Mmm,” I said, wanting to drive her wild and make her want me. She already wanted me. She wanted what I had to give her, but I wanted to make her desperate for it.
“Please, Jessie. Stop teasing me.” She ground up against me, begging me to make her night. Her gorgeous naked body was spread open across the bed, wanting my touch, wanting me to have my pleasure with it, with her.
“I never tease,” I said, giving her my best puppy-dog eyes and one of my most eloquently innocent expressions. Well, okay, fine. I didn’t stop my playing long enough to actually say it, but she probably thought I had anyway after the look I gave her.
“Oh, God, Jessie...oh, God, Jessie! Jessie!” She screamed and tightened those long, shapely legs around my shoulders. I was focused solely on her, on my fingers and my tongue and what I could do to her with them.
“Oh, God!” Sheila screamed again, writhing and yelling, trying to buck me across the bed, but I held my ground and kept her in place, although it required all my strength.
Her legs were tight around my shoulders, crunching me, while one hand gripped my free hand in what felt like a vise that she only managed during the throes of an orgasm. The other hand raked my back with its long, red nails. Both pains were an excruciating torment that turned me on. After all, there lies only a fine line between pleasure and pain.
But suddenly another pain shot through me from my shoulder, which was held in the nutcracking grip of Sheila’s legs. If I had been able to, I would’ve kept it to myself, but my body yanked away from her as my voice cried out in alarm and pain.
“Omigod!” Sheila said, suddenly pulling herself away and looking at me. Then we both looked at my shoulder, which was no longer attached to the rest of my body.
Laura DeHart Young
I glanced up, grimacing in pain. With a look of horror, Sheila began to swing her left leg over my head. Unfortunately, she totally misjudged the movement and her foot connected solidly with my nose.
“Good grief! What did you do that for?” I screamed, grabbing my nose. Looking down, I saw a palm full of blood.
“Jessie, honey, I’m so sorry! I was trying to get up so I could help you.”
“Don’t bother helping me. I think you just broke my nose.” Hanging precariously at the edge of the bed, I tried not to move. My shoulder was throbbing and I could feel a stream of blood running from my aching schnoz.
“Here, darling. We need to stop that bleeding!” Sheila leapt from the bed and grabbed a box of tissues from the night table. That’s the last thing I saw. The sudden movement caused the waterbed to roll and I was thrown to the floor on the opposite side of the room. With an audible thud, my head connected with the bedroom wall and pain was no longer the turn-on it once was.
“Jessie? Jessie, honey? Where are you, sweetheart?”
“Over here,” I said in a nasal tone, my thumb and forefinger pinching back life’s blood. The room began to fade as I blurted, “Don’t come near me. Please! Just call nine-one-one.”
Peggy J. Herring
Lucky for me I still had on my black glow-in-the-dark boxers with cute pumpkins all over them, but my white T-shirt was now covered with blood.
“They’ll think I beat you or something,” Sheila said. “I’ll drive you to the emergency room. Here, honey,” she said, tossing me a pair of sweat pants. “Put these on.”
“I’m not moving until EMS gets here.” I couldn’t be sure where I hurt the most.
“Don’t be silly. I’ll take you.”
“I’m not moving and my arm is killing me. Call nine-one-one, please.”
As Sheila was dialing she put her hand over the phone and urgently whispered, “What do I say?”
“Tell them I fell. Tell them my arm popped out and punched me in the nose. Tell them I’ve had a bizarre sex accident. I don’t care what you tell them! Just get somebody here!”
By the time I’d finished my tirade, Sheila had already placed the call and was sprawled across the bed looking down at me ever so sweetly.
“Damn, we’re good together,” she said. “You think they’ll remember the address from that little bump on the head you got last week? I’m thinking we need a bigger bed, lover. Or one with rails on the side so I can keep you in it.”
I thought about trying to move and then quickly changed my mind. I wasn’t looking forward to having another pair of EMS technicians seeing me in boxers.