Buttercup

The Divas Pen LLC Publication

http://thedivaspen.com

Buttercup

ISBN 9780983052364

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Buttercup © Copyright 2010 Sienna Mynx

Cover art by PickyMe

Electronic book publication November 2010

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, The Diva’s Pen LLC.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously

C a rni e Brogue

Scratch
– money

Rousty or Roustabouts
– A temporary or full-time laborer who helps pitch concessions and assembles rides. In the 1930s, American roustabouts would work for a meal and perhaps a tent to share with other workers.

Money
–

•
ace ($1)

•
deuce ($2)

•
fin ($5)

•
sawbuck/saw ($10)

•
double ($20)

•
half-yard ($50)

•
yard
or
c-note ($100)

•
rod
or
d-note ($500)

•
large
or
k-note ($1000)

Carny or Carnie
– Carnival worker

Townie
– General public

Bone yard
– Place at which employees stay when not working.

Patch-money
– Money used to induce police officers to turn a blind eye. Also known as
juice
or
ice
.

Lot Lizard
– Describes a carny (usually female) who has multiple sexual partners (also carnies) or one who tends to "sleep-around" or cheat with other carnies on the lot.

Mark
– Townie marked for the con.

Nut
– The sum total (in cash) of a performance, or group of performances. The nut (or kernel) is also sometimes used to refer to the basic operating expense of the joint (including the "patch"). To "make your nut" is to break even, anything beyond that is profit (or tip).

Greenies
– Hired help

Donniker
– Outhouse

Genny
- (pronounced "jenny") - A huge generator that powers some or all of the midway

“Miss me?”

Silvio sat up in his rickety tent chair. Her voice beckoned. Like the opening
of a song, those two words, ‘miss me’, rose softly above the drumbeat of his
pounding heart.

The warm fragrance of sweet kettle corn and roasted apples blew in from
the midway through the loosened flap at the front of the tent. Carnies taunted
townies to test their luck, get their fortunes read, or become one of the chosen few
to bear witness to the never seen before oddities of man. However, here under the
cover of a patchwork carnival tent, it was just Buttercup and him—alone. Silvio
swallowed. His nerves, a ball of conflicting emotions, had lodged in his throat as he
stared on, riveted. He had found her. Beyond a stage curtain made from tattered
wash-worn sheets strung up by fishing wire, she called for him, seduced him,
damned him.

Buttercup drew closer, her shapely hips swaying in a wondrous slow
motion with each step. She worked the momentum, causing the adornments that
circled her small waist in a low-slung belt, to sing with soft chimes. Silvio knew
she wore nothing else beneath her garment. She never did.

She was as he remembered.

Buttercup possessed an untamed wildness to her beauty. The thin shroud
of cover between them could do little to conceal it. She drew closer. With the lights
of the carnival outside the tent as her backdrop, her dark silhouette approached
with the grace of an African Goddess. He wiped his hand down his face. There was
only so much he could withstand.

Silvio’s arousal almost reached its peak when she began her tease. Her
movements suggested the cupping of her breasts and the squeeze and pinch of
oversized nipples he once remembered sucking to hard nubs. All the while, she
allowed her hips to roll in sweet provocative circles. It was beginning. With a
sharp intake of the sweltering air of the tent’s confinement, Silvio narrowed his
focus on her shapely form and acknowledged the hard punch of lust to the center of
his chest. She released one pert nipple to run her hand down her midriff and then
lower. He was certain that she was now pleasuring herself.

As the urges he resisted churned in his gut, Buttercup began to dance. A
gyration of hip thrusts that worked up a frenzied tribal shake. Her arms flew up
with palms pressed together and raised above her head. The belt of bells and
possible feathers rang a melody that went through him. Silvio yearned in his core
to possess her and to rediscover all the pleasures he once felt with her. Tortured,
quick, impatient gasps of deep breaths escaped him. He shifted in the chair, and it
creaked on its weather worn legs. He laid a hand to his groin, applying pressure.

Under the dark shadowed solitude amongst empty tent chairs, he rubbed out the
swelling.

Damn the curtain. Damn them all for keeping her from me for so long, he
thought. Six fucking years is far too long to be without her, and it's all this cursed
carnival's fault.

“Miss me?” her beguiling whisper asked once more.

Silvio’s throat torched from the inside. A heat wave of forbidden desire
boiled the blood in his veins, and his passion for her bulked between his legs. He
rasped out a barely audible reply. It came out in stuttered expletives. The touching
of himself helped, but this deliverance was short lived. The ache moved through
him, settling in his heart. Buttercup would show no mercy. Denying him the
pleasure of the visual, she wound her heart shaped ass in another frenzied shake.

This he could only perceive behind the cover of the rag-tag stage curtain. But
perception was everything. Silvio shuddered. His lids fluttered and then closed.

The friction of his britches brushing against his neglected cock sent another spasm
of wanton lust through him. He relished his undoing as ribbons of pleasure,
threaded with hot searing lust, pumped blood through his shaft. Buttercup
proceeded with finesse and wicked skill to seduce him further through her dance.

Silvio's chest seized with tightness. The wild beating felt as if his heart would
punch a hole through his ribcage. He was cold and hot, all at the same time.

Buttercup spun in a half circle. Wringing her hips, she dropped and then
came up with a fierce roll of her rump. Silvio licked his dry lips, which parted a
fraction to allow in a much-needed breath. He miserably neared his end. Then
Buttercup stopped.

Silvio exhaled, keeping his eyes shut. Sweat beads dotted his furrowed
brow. And despite his efforts, a lonely suppressed tear escaped the inlet of his eye
and trailed down the outer contour of his nose. He dropped his head back on the
top rung of the chair, slumping further down. Yes, he suffered, and it was all
because of her.

She waited.

He was grateful for the short reprieve. He willed himself to look upon her
again. His pulse rate normalized and so did her dancing before it came to an end.

No woman should be able to exude such control. Buttercup did. She posed behind
the thin sheath with her back to him, arms crossed over her enticing chest. Her
head gave a slow turn, and she peeked at him from over the curve of her left
shoulder. The lift of her chin spoke to the awareness she foolishly thought remained
concealed. He knew she was smart. Despite her color, and lot in life, she was damn
smart. He'd be a fool to forget that fact.

“You’ve bewitched me,” Silvio stammered, so enamored with her that he
could barely speak.

“Show me. Be a bad boy for me, Silvio 'Blood-shot' Garelli, a bad, bad,
boy.”

Silvio eased down the tab to his zipper. He reached in and brought his
coiled length out in his hand. Holding his shaft at the base, he tightened his grip
and relieved the pressure of his curved erection. She was making him do it. Had to
be. He was helpless under her command. To be hers again was his sole focus as he
worked his hand up and down his length, slow and easy at first. Under the
watchful eye of her shadow, nothing stirred. Even the sounds of the Carnies
hurrying up and down the midway of the rag-tag carnival were muted. Silvio
closed his eyes once more. He imagined her mouth descending with wet heat and
her full lips grazing each inch as she swallowed him all the way to the back of her
throat, then deeper. He pumped his man meat, drowning in flashes of her riding
him, his sweet beautiful Buttercup bouncing on his lap and clenching her silken
vaginal walls with each descent. In his fantasy, she rode his cock until the reserved
breath he held seeped from his lungs. No, he couldn’t see her, but she was doing
him all right. Her penetrating stare was giving off silent commands: if you want it
then show me. Show me, show me...

The curtain separated them, but he knew his Buttercup. He had sampled
her nectar; it had damned him for sure.

This he did for her and for him.

Jerking his dick in quick upward tugs, he relished the wicked downpour of
sin pooling in his chest and cooling his feverish restraint for a release. And in his
mind, there she remained. Firmly seated upon his lap with every inch of him inside
of her, she opened for more. Long dark legs draped over his shoulder and the side of
the tent chair as she whispered her desires to please him in his ear. Silvio inhaled a
staggered breath. With clenched teeth, he squeezed hard on his dick, stalling his
pleasure in search of the pinnacle release. He huffed through flared nostrils and
wheezed out of quivering lips. It was nearly too late. Not yet, he told himself. Not
yet! He had waited too long to lose control now. Silvio had plans. Plans that began
with his body on hers, his cock tunneling deep between her butter soft dark
thighs—while she begged for mercy. It was a plan that ended with Buttercup
leaving this carnival with him, being his, no matter what the law said against their
union.

With the same shaky hand, Silvio drew out a hanky from his pocket to clean
himself. Then he readjusted his stiff unrepentant penis to the front of his trousers.