Stories From The 6 Train 1(186)

Right now, this woman is everything. She's the real deal and if I could fuck her every minute of the day I would. "Fuck, you're a goddess," I say, and she seems to like that because she's purring and her whole body is bucking wildly, threatening to swallow me whole.

Then my body tenses and I feel my cock suddenly spasm, spewing thick ropes of cum deep inside of her. Kerri's gyrating her hips and milking my cock even when I think I have nothing left. Then I pull away from her and she turns to me and gets down on her knees, keeping her gaze locked on mine. Without hesitation she takes my cock in her mouth, sucking the remaining cum from my shaft until I'm dry. I exhale deeply—satisfied but spent.

"I've gotten my protein for the day," she purrs, looking up at me with lusty eyes. But before I can even respond to that we hear what sounds like footsteps just outside the door and we quickly jump up—the trance broken—trying to pull ourselves together and I'm pulling my jumpsuit back up and over my hips, and up even further over my shoulders. I give her one last look and kiss the tips of my fingers and then press them to her own lips in one final gesture. She looks at me as if she wants to say something but doesn't. Is she holding something back?

"Until next time," I whisper, and just like that, I'm leaving the infirmary and rounding the corner, walking down the long, narrow hallway—and not a moment too soon because sure enough, here's Gerry rounding the corner with his huge belly and keys jangling in his pockets. I merely tip him a nod hello and keep moving. And besides having to leave the woman of my dreams and being locked up in this place, I'm fucking happy—like really happy. It's as if nothing can bring me down—not even this fucking place, because today I just banged a goddess and if I'm honest with myself, I really like this woman.

I'm rounding the corner practically whistling to myself when something doesn't feel right. It starts to feel like I'm walking under a perfectly clear and cloudless sky yet there's a shadow. I look up and my gut instincts are right. Standing in front of me are Grinder and four other guys. They are pissed and looking at me like they're shooting daggers from their eyes and I know they aren't here to ask me to a friendly game of Scrabble or some shit—they're here to kick my ass and they're out for blood.

"Well, well… look who just joined the party. I don't know if you've realized this yet, but today, we're gonna make you our bitch," Grinder growls. He's smiling now, and it's the most sinister grin I've ever fucking seen in my life. "This'll be the last time you ever think about fucking around and cashing checks you can't keep."

"Look, Spider wasn't straight with you. I never promised I could pull off that transfer to St. Smith's. Like I said, the bitch in the infirmary wasn't budging."

"Who the fuck do you think I am?" Grinder asks. "You think I'm falling for any of that bullshit." And as he says this, he advances closer to me and points a finger at my shoulder, and that's it. I've been around enough violence in my life to know that it's a hostile cue. If I stand around any longer I'm gonna be assed out, so I pull my arm back and deliver an uppercut to Grinder's square jaw. Despite him being as thick as a truck, I watch as his knees buckle and he crumples to the ground. This takes everyone by surprise—even me, but within a second, another guy steps in.

He's all business, his eyes wide and flashing hate. He steps in and swings his arm at me, but I'm ready and I block it. I throw my elbow into his nose and I hear a sickening crack—I know it's broken and gushing and I slam my knee into his ribs, also cracking them. He's doubled over now, clutching his side and struggling to breath.

"Do the rest of you have a fucking death wish or what?" I spit, breathing heavy but my entire body on fire—my muscles tense and ready to spring like a lion getting ready to bring down a herd of weaker animals—I'm egging them on and daring them to step forward. My fists are still clenched. My nostrils are flared in anticipation. One guy gets close and I leap forward, boxing the shit out of him—throwing every combo I know, moves I haven't used since my days hustling on the streets and it's obvious he's had enough because he's slumped against the wall and struggling to get away. I watch as he spits blood and a tooth tumbles to the floor. The man looks stunned, like he can't believe what's happened, and I begin to think that maybe I've got this—that I can fucking take on the world.

And just as I think the whole fucking group has had enough, the remaining two lunge at me, one from each side. I'm landing a few solid punches, knocking one guy in the eye, but it's not enough. These guys are nearly seven feet tall and look as if they belong to some sort of fucked up circus show, and I feel a fist crash into my temple and I'm dazed. I'm not seeing stars but pretty damn close.