Buttercup (9 page)

Della fell back from the tent. She rolled away in the grass. Her cheeks puffed. Her lips pressed so tight they went purple, and her eyes bulged. She neared an explosive bout of laughter. She stopped, holding her stomach. She felt the hot tingly feeling in her clit that preceded a piss and struggled to suppress the urge while forcing down the bubble of laughter lodged in her throat. It was torture. Scrambling to her feet, she shot out and away from the tent, laughing loudly. She ran like the wind. Her belly ached as she breathed in gusts of night air, but she kept running. Her eyes burned from all she had seen and she kept laughing. By the time she crashed inside of her own tent, she was a blubbering mess of tears. Silvio stood over her, alarmed. Della couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe.

She put up a hand for him to wait. But Silvio grabbed her by both arms and brought her to her feet. “What happened? Talk to me girl. What happened?”

“He, Trix and he, together, they, eeeewww…” she panted.

“Poookkkkiiieeeee, doin the pokie!!!” she laughed.

“Pokie? What the hell does Pokie mean? Talk to me!”

Della grinned. She shook her head of bushy locks at the alarm in his eyes. “He’s fine. I swear it to you. He’s fine. Trixie showin’ him a
goooooooood
time.”

Silvio doubled back. “Trixie? You mean that bird flapping on the stage with you?” Della nodded through a cheeky grin. Silvio slowly smiled. “Well I’ll be damned. Jelly’s getting pussy? That pussy?”

“Like I say, she showin’ him a good time.”

Silvio turned away, hands to head. “Okay. Well, I guess we wait.

Right?”

“I told you it’ll take another hour, maybe two before I can see Tiny. I sent Peanut away. We can stay here. No need to run just yet.” She dropped down on her blanket, folded her legs under her. The cot was busted. She’d have to sleep on the floor until she could commission another. Silvio dropped beside her and suddenly all thoughts of her sleeping predicament wiped away. And when he touched her exposed thigh, she felt her cheeks warm. Her heart slammed in her chest. The air in her lungs solidified. She ached between her legs from their tryst; still a touch had her craving him once more. His eyes lifted, latching to hers. She looked down into their blue depths. The answer was yes. She’d want to lie in his arms again with him on top of her for as many hours as they pleased.

“Come here,” he said, easing her down. The backs of his fingers grazed her cheek lovingly. “Tell me about the carnival. What’s it like?”

Della frowned up at him. “What’s what like?”

Silvio’s head lowered. His lips were a breath away from the exposed curve of her neck. A brief shiver rippled through her. Then came his kiss ever so gently.
Oh the fever!
Like a Mississippi heat wave, it burned so hot it layered over her skin, scorching her soul. Della’s heartbeat rushed to the spot he kissed, and she heaved an affronted sigh. “It’s a good place.

Strange place…and um, a safe place. That’s what the Carnival is.”

“Mmmm…and what else,” he whispered against her ear, as his fingers gathered the fabric to the front of her skirt. She hadn’t put on britches in her hurry. So the cooling air of the night breezed over her damp thighs. A knot formed in her chest, then lodged in her throat. Two of his fingers stroked her slit. The calming finger play had her winding her bottom in the rhythmic sync. He flicked his tongue at her inner ear.

“We had a kangaroo once, but it died,” she stammered, her brain scrambling for something interesting just as his finger took the plunge. Her pelvis lifted from the ground and her body responded to the welcomed invasion. Silvio’s head slowly rose. Della felt his eyes on her as he fingered her deeply. Opening them once more, they locked with his as their breathing came and went in unison. Though he was the one pleasing her, she could tell he liked it by the way he moistened his lips. No man, carnie or townie, had magic hands like him—she was sure. Silvio’s thumb pressed against her clit sending a current of rapture through her core. He then rubbed it in circular motions. He gave her two fingers, purposefully stretching her for his pending entry. Della tried to deny the darker side of lust as her mind filled with images of her on all fours taking it from the back, hole to hole. She tried to ignore the wicked desires that made her want to slip her mouth around his cock and suck deeply until it rested in the back of her throat. She burned through her soul as she neared an unexpected climax. But Silvio would have none of that. He watched. A passionate fluttering rose from the pits of her stomach. A cooling spread through the clenching muscles of her sex and a hot ache incinerated her throat. Just as she was ready to scream he was on her thrusting his dick into her. Della gripped his arms and moved beneath him. His broad shoulders were heaving, and sweaty. Her hands slipped twice until she dug in her nails to hold on. Silvio covered her completely, rising and falling out of her with hip pumps that set her teeth on edge. Della closed her eyes and went freely with it. The closeness that came with his lovemaking was so male, so bracing. She was floating on waves of euphoria.

He spoke into her ear as he throttled her sex repeatedly, panting how beautiful she was, how good she felt and how he ‘d never had anyone like her. She felt
desired
and
wanted
and all those things he spoke of. She gasped, grunted, and wept silently. Her thighs quivered. Her body thrashed as she exploded with such a blinding intensity that it rendered her mute.

He flipped her. Della’s head and back dipped as he thrust in and out of her from the back. In the rapturous throes of her climax she could do nothing but pant and endure. He rolled his dick into her with the swirl of his hips and made it so ever-lovin-good she prayed he stayed deep for ever. But forever never lasted long enough. His will broke. Together they went down. Her stomach clenched as she weathered the weight of him.

His hard thighs, now on either side of her own, forced hers shut as he pumped her beaten sex until his seed shot through her. She felt him warmly coating her; she relished how his cock jerked out the last throes of pleasure while buried deep. Then he groaned over their separation. He fell over on his side. They were still clothed. She with her skirt pushed up to her hips, and he with his britches rolled down to his knees. His breath was warm and moist against her cheek when he turned and kissed her there.

Silvio tried to speak but failed. He pressed another kiss, this time to her inner ear, before she lifted her head and he reclaimed her lips. It was a slow drugging kiss that branded her his for eternity. Slowly lifting his mouth from hers, he gazed down at her in wonder. “That was tops, doll.

Two times over.”

Della pushed at his shoulders. She feared he’d go for three. “We should stop. We need to listen for Lone Wolf or the others. You neva’

know.”

“You’re special. You know that? No matter what, you’re the real deal.”

Della blushed. “I knows it. Now get off,” she said, pushing at him.

Silvio withdrew and dropped over on his back. He lifted his arms and put them behind his head, his dick, wet and limp, hanging to the side.

They stared up at the top of the tent in silence. Neither of them spoke.

Eventually there was movement. One of his arms lowered, and his hand sought hers. Della smiled. She let him hold it. And soon, without a word, she turned to him and drifted to sleep.

“Buttercup, hey, wake up,” he whispered.

Della groaned. Her arm was around his bare chest and her sex pressed into his thigh. She snuggled under his armpit for comfort.

“Buttercup?”

Her eyes opened and then her lids slipped down over her eyes again. “Huh?”

“It’s been almost an hour. Jelly should be done with your friend. I think we should…”

“Oh, yeah. I s’pose.” Della stretched and yawned. Forcefully shaking off the fog of sleep, she blinked several times, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. It was late. She’d fallen asleep. When she looked over at him, he was smiling up at her. She’d never fallen asleep with a boy or man before. Della pushed her skirt down and fixed the front of her dress, suddenly aware of how far beyond Tiny’s rules she had gone. She could still feel the evidence of their playtime leaking from her sticky center. She desperately wanted to bathe. “I didn’t mean to drift like that.”

Silvio rose. He offered a hand and helped her to her feet. Quickly, they groomed themselves, adjusting their clothes in silence. “I’ll go and find Tiny and…” she turned but stopped. Before she could utter another word the little man himself walked in. Della stepped back in stunned silence. Lone Wolf appeared next. He had a bat in his hands. The glare the Indian gave her and Silvio chilled her.

“I can explain... I swears it. We ain’t did nuthin’…” she stuttered, but her voice faded into silence when that mean ole sheriff none of them trusted emerged. Silvio’s friend Jelly was forced in by two of the Sherrif's deputies. The young man’s face was covered in blood from an undeserved beating. He heaved and sobbed noisily. It was the only noise in the tent, and it scared the hell out of Della.

“Let him go!” Silvio shouted. Della turned to warn him against it, but he shoved her aside and went for his gun. Lone Wolf must have circled; he was silent and deadly like that. Before it was expected, he delivered a powerful hit with his bat to Silvio’s arm. The gun fell and Silvio dropped to his knees.

“No! Don’t hurt him!” she said trying to reach him. Lone Wolf had her next. She could do nothing but look down at Silvio helplessly. The sheriff, a short sweaty man with meaty jaws and multiple chins, stepped over to Silvio. Della noticed how Silvio held his arm but didn’t weep or moan. He just glared at them all. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

“There he is, Sheriff! He attacked my gal,” Tiny snorted, spit, and glared.

“That’s not true, Tiny! He ain’t done nuthin’ wrong. He lost his way, and I was gonna show him where to go,” Della said snatching free from Lone Wolf. She rushed Tiny. “I can explain it. I swears it.”

“Della, stay out of it,” Silvio wheezed, barely able to speak.

“No, he wasn’t doin’ nuthin’ wrong. I bought him in here,” she confessed. Tiny’s kind eyes hardened to black stones. Before Della could foresee his rage, she experienced it. Tiny swung his cane, delivering a gut-crushing blow with the blunt end to her stomach. She doubled over in pain. Silvio, though wounded, lunged for Tiny. He was quick, but the men were quicker. He was kicked in his stomach by the sheriff for his foolish efforts. Through tears in his eyes, he bore witness to the midget’s cruelty.

They all did. Tiny grabbed a fistful of Della’s hair and yank her up to his level. He spoke in her face, spraying it with angry spittle between his missing teeth. “Now tell the Sherriff the troof! That boy done come in here and attack you! Didn’t he! Forced himself on you!”

“Let her go, you freak!” Silvio grunted.

Della sobbed. She’d never been struck by Tiny in her life. She’d seen him do it to others, but he never touched her. Never. She didn’t know how to process the pain and humiliation the attack brought.

“Say it!” Tiny snapped.

“Yes,” she wept. “He force me.”

“Della! No!” Silvio yelled at her. “You bastard. You know I didn’t!

You let her go!”

“Get her out of here!” Tiny shoved her to the floor. Della was swept from her hands and knees by Lone Wolf and lifted into his massive arms.

Her stomach pained her terribly, but watching the sheriff give the okay to have Silvio beaten with his friend was too much to bear. So she closed her eyes and pretended. She wished it all away. Problem was the screams from the one called Jelly. That she could never wish away. Looking back once more, she saw Tiny approach Silvio on his cane. “You think you can come in here and fuck with me, boy?”

Silvio spat on him.

Tiny wiped at the spittle with his nubby fingers. He swung his cane like a bat, hitting Silvio on the side of the head. Then the others started kicking him. It was all she saw before Lone Wolf carried her away.

Little Surprises

“It’s a carnival,” Manny said. “Well I’ll be damn… it’s a fucking carnival out in the middle of nowhere.” Manny leaned forward on the steering wheel. His neck stretched, and his mouth gaped. Manny’s eyes lifted beyond the parked cars. The approaching lights of the Ferris wheel sent a cascade of color over his face. Silvio could hear the mix of laughter with the screams of ringing bells and blaring horns as many walked through the tall grass to the carnival tents. These days carnivals were few and scattered. Still Manny gawked like a three year-old.

“Park over there, under the cover of those trees,” Silvio ordered.

Manny did as he was told. The getaway car light pods blinked off. The four men coasted in the car over to a shaded stop between a farmer’s truck loaded with watermelons and a large oak tree with low hung branches.

Touchy sat up, grabbing the back of Silvio’s seat. He leaned forward.

Red had passed out somewhere on the turn off. “What’s this about, Sil?” Touchy asked. His breath wafting over the seat was a pungent mixture of onion and whiskey.