The Sex Trap Read online

  Aaron Marberry’s beady eyes moved eagerly up and down them, right up to the tight shorts she wore.

  Miranda sat on the battered couch in the dumpola apartment she and Aaron had shared. She’d let herself in with her key, knowing he was gone, because his piece-of-shit pickup truck was nowhere to be seen.

  “I’m damned glad to see you, baby!” Aaron chortled. “You’re lookin’ fine as can be! You got that old geek to buy you some new threads, eh?”

  “Just a few things so far, hon,” she lied sweetly to him, unconsciously rubbing the spot on her wrist where her expensive new tennis bracelet would have been, had she not taken it off prior to visiting Aaron this afternoon.

  “I brought you a little something, babe,” she smiled up at him, reaching into her blouse pocket.

  “Oh, and what might that be, besides that sweet pussy of yours?”

  In the half hour she’d been inside the apartment Miranda had tossed the place from one end to the other to see what dim-bulb Aaron had been up to in her absence. She’d sniffed his none-too-clean sheets and smelled cheap perfume all over them. She knew that Aaron hadn’t exactly been starving for cunt in her absence, just as she’d figured.

  “Down, lover boy!” she put up a hand to halt his advance. “I don’t have time for a roll in the hay. I just stopped by real quick to give you this, to show you I’m making progress, and then I gotta’ beat it back to the professor’s house before he gets home, okay?”

  Aaron’s face fell. Then he saw the five crisp new hundred dollar bills Miranda held toward him and he beamed. “Damn, girl! That looks mighty sweet to me! I’m down to seeds and stems again around here and fucking near out of beer too!”

  “This is just the tip of the iceberg, honey. There’s buckets of money for us to get. I’ll bring you a lot more cash next week, and then pretty soon after that, we’ll hit him for the really big score I promised you, okay?”

  “Very okay by me, sweetcheeks.”

  “I’ll have longer to spend with you next week too, sweetheart; we’ll fuck our brains out,” she promised, getting to her feet and wrapping her arms around him to kiss him good-bye.

  He tasted of cigarettes, stale beer, and chewing tobacco, and his three-day growth of beard burned her face. She thought of Liam’s sweet mouth and baby-smooth face, always so freshly shaved and soft, and just about puked.

  How in the fuck did I ever stand being with this prick for three months?

  She patted him on the cheek and started for the door, but he grabbed her by the wrist in his vise-like grip, halting her in her tracks. Flashing her one of his nasty, evil grins, he jerked her toward the bedroom.

  “That kiss got my woody goin’, babe,” he said. “You got enough time to at least take care of that before you high-tail it back to that skinny asshole you’ve been fuckin’!”

  * * * *

  Miranda had parked the Rover on the street, around the corner from Aaron’s apartment. As soon as she knew she was out of sight, she cleared her throat and mouth then spat into the gutter.

  “God, that guy’s spunk tastes shitty!”

  The thought of Aaron’s slimly load of semen sliding around in her stomach made her tummy turn over as she unlocked the Rover and got inside. She wondered why Liam’s jizz didn’t bother her. She enjoyed sucking him off and swallowing it. Was it purely a difference in the taste? Or was it a matter of really, really liking her new lover and really, really disliking Aaron intensely?

  You don’t just like him…you’re in love with him! Admit it, Randa

  “Am not!” she murmured aloud, starting the car and heading back toward home, smiling to herself all the while, because she knew deep down that it was true—she did love Liam, God help her! Would she be taking a risk like this, with that fucking violent moron, Aaron, if she didn’t?

  Miranda turned right at the next corner, then did a u-turn, and parked behind another SUV so that she could watch the street she had just been on. One thing about Aaron; his actions were as predictable as the sun coming up in the morning.

  He’d just gotten his rocks off by forcing her suck his cock. Now that he had his prick satisfied and some money in his pocket, the next thing on his agenda would be to visit Kyle Willkie and replenish his dope supply. He hadn’t been lying earlier about being down to seeds and stems; when she’d tossed his apartment earlier, she’d looked in the canister in the freezer where he kept his marijuana stash and found it nearly empty. After Kyle’s, Aaron would head for The Roadhouse bar to drink the rest of the day and night away with his lowlife buddies.

  It was what he always did when he got a fresh infusion of cash.

  Sure enough, two minutes later, Aaron’s ancient pickup roared past, its dragging muffler emitting a loud rumble. Aaron could have used some of that five hundred dollars she’d given him to get it fixed, but that would never occur to him—he’d be too busy smoking and drinking it up to even consider the idea.

  Miranda waited another five minutes, then drove the three blocks to Kyle Willkie’s rundown row house and cruised by it. Aaron’s truck was parked right in front. She glanced at the clock on the dash and decided to give him another hour or so, knowing that Kyle and Aaron would roll up a fat doobie from the grass Aaron had just bought and smoke it before he took off for The Roadhouse.

  Miranda kept going. She intended to visit with Tess, the cute redheaded shop girl at Tres Chic for an hour. Maybe she'd try on some new things while she waited for Aaron to settle in at the bar on the outskirts of town.

  * * * *

  Miranda pulled up next to the battered pickup parked behind The Roadhouse. She kept one eye on the backdoor of the rowdy biker bar that was Aaron’s favorite place to get shit-faced, and walked over to the rear of his old truck.

  She slipped the phillips-head screwdriver she’d gotten from Liam’s workbench in the garage that morning out of her pocket and went to work on the left rear taillight, pulling the red lens off and loosening the bulb so that it didn’t make solid contact with its fitting anymore. When she was sure the brake light was disabled, she replaced the lens, got back in the Rover and left the lot.

  At a pay phone on the corner of a busy gas station parking lot, she fished a handful of quarters from her purse. After feeding two of them into the slot, she dialed the police department’s main number.

  Disguising her voice to sound much older, she demanded to speak to the officer in charge of drug enforcement in the vicinity of the local high school. When the bored-sounding cop came on the line, she said, “My grandson goes to Washington, and I want something done about that long-haired, scruffy-looking hooligan who’s been selling him and all of his friends dope just down the street from the school!”

  “Yes, mam, and what was your name, please?” the cop asked, sounding vaguely more interested.

  “My name is Mary, and that’s all I’m telling you,” Miranda rasped in her old lady-sounding voice. “But I will give you the license number of that man’s truck and I’ll tell you where he is right now! I just saw it parked at that awful honky-tonk bar not far from where I buy my gas…The Roadhouse!”

  “Okay, what’s the plate number?” the cop asked.

  Miranda gave him Aaron’s plate number and a general description of the truck and then added, “Oh, and by the way, his rear stoplight doesn’t work. I saw him drive away from the school the other day and when he stopped at the stop sign, his right tail light came on, but the left one didn’t.”

  “Hmmmm, that could be great for us,” the cop said, thinking aloud. “That could give us probable cause to pull him over. Thank you, mam, I’ll give this to one of the prowl cars working that end of town and have them keep an eye on this truck; then when he leaves…”

  Yes! Thought Miranda, pumping her fist triumphantly, hanging up the phone.

  * * * *

  “And, so…what did you get up to today, darling?” Liam asked her at dinner.

  “I went shopping again, I’m afraid,” Miranda said, acting slightly guilty. �
�I charged a few things at that shop I like, and then I spent some cash too.”

  “How delightful,” Liam smiled at her. “I can’t wait to see what you bought. You have such excellent taste in clothes, darling.”

  “I hate to admit it, but I used up all of the cash you gave me, sweetie,” she answered, keeping her eyes downcast.

  “Oh, that’s all right. I’ll get you some more tomorrow,” Liam shrugged. He thought for a moment and then asked, “Do you have a checking account, angel? Perhaps I could just instruct my banker to deposit some money for you and to make sure it doesn’t go below a certain amount. How does that sound?”

  “I…uh…I was meaning to open one, but I never seemed to get enough cash together to warrant it,” she confessed, her eyes still focused on the tablecloth.

  “Well, we’ll soon remedy that. I’ll open one for you tomorrow at my bank and then we can make sure it’s always got…shall we say…five thousand dollars in it? That should give you plenty of walking-around money, don’t you think?”

  She beamed up at him, “Oh, darling! I feel another naughty bedroom treat for you coming on tonight, you wonderful man!”

  He blushed slightly, smiling hugely, and sipped his wine. “Oh, my! Lucky me!”

  * * * *

  “Now, when you get ready to come, sweetheart, I just want you to let it go, all right? Your little Randa can handle it,” she whispered, smiling up at him, her dark eyes alive with mischievous excitement. “I’ll swallow every drop, I promise.”

  Liam moaned and nodded, too turned on to speak. Miranda was naked, and on her stomach between his legs. He was naked as well, his massive cock standing at attention, slick as could be with her shiny spittle. Her middle finger was well greased with sex lube and it was shoved all the way up Liam Donnelly’s ass, toying lightly with his prostate.

  “This will make you come like a fire hydrant opening up but don’t worry,” Miranda cooed at him. “I can take it.”

  She eased his cock back into her mouth and started sucking him again, slow and easy, the fingers of one hand tickling his clenched-together ball sac, the middle finger of her other hand teasing his swollen gland more firmly.

  Liam gasped and gripped the sheets hard with both hands. “Oh! Oh, sweet God, Randa, that feels so incredible! I can’t take much more of that. It’s too…it’s too…oh! Oh, Jesus in Heaven, Miranda! Aggghhhhh!”

  A torrent of jism erupted from Liam’s big nuts, his hips coming up off the bed, his whole body shivering with the joy of release. Miranda gulped the hot goo down eagerly, licking all around his sensitive glans and diddling his prostate even harder.

  He screamed again and unloaded another jet of come that filled her mouth and throat in an instant. She had to swallow twice, rapidly, to get it all down and was rewarded with yet another huge mouthful, Liam still keening and whining at how wonderful it felt.

  Miranda would have smiled, if she hadn’t had such a large mouthful of jizz to deal with and a big cock going up and down between her sucking lips. She just loved making her darling Liam come really hard, and she’d outdone herself tonight, she thought smugly, gulping down still more of her baby’s heavy, thick cream and thinking to herself how much tastier it was than Aaron’s…

  * * * *

  “So, what’s my favorite girl in the whole wide world going to do today?” Liam asked her the next morning, picking up his briefcase.

  “Well, I’m going to meet you at the bank at four thirty, like you said. And I’m also going to do something I’ve wanted to do ever since I moved in here, darling.”

  “Oh, and what might that be?”

  “I’m going to read a book,” she told him. “There are a zillion of them here, and I’m going to pick one and sit down and read it. I’m tired of being uneducated, so I’m going to do something about it.”

  He laughed, clearly delighted by her decision and her resolve. “There are some good ones here, sweetheart. Enjoy. I’ll see you this afternoon then, at the bank.”

  She took the hand he’d been touching her cheek with and kissed it, and then he went out the back door. Miranda got up, poured herself another cup of coffee, and then went into the den to choose a book.

  She really did intend to start reading books, just as she’d told Liam, and for the same reason she’d given him too, at least partially. Miranda knew that she was smart, but she was woefully undereducated. Moving rapidly from place to place and state to state with her one-jump-ahead-of-the-law daddy, from the time she had been a little girl, had resulted in a very spotty school record.

  Being with an educated, well spoken, lovely man like Liam was great, but she had realized recently that he was going to get bored with her eventually if she had nothing to discuss with him other that whether he wanted to fuck her in the ass or the pussy that night. The sex between them was absolutely unbelievable, but she knew that even the most fantastic fucking wasn’t enough to keep a couple together on a permanent basis when they had nothing else in common.

  She looked up at the wall-length bookshelf and ran a finger down the leather-bound titles, looking for something that didn’t seem dead boring. The Three Musketeers caught her eye. She’d seen at least two movies made from that story, so she knew something about the story and the general plot.

  Okay, Mr. Dumas, let’s see what ya’ got, she thought to herself, plopping down into one of the big leather chairs with her coffee and the book…

  * * * *

  “I’m sorry I’m late, darling,” Miranda apologized to Liam, running into the bank ten minutes late. “I got all wrapped up in that book I was reading and I totally lost track of the time.”

  Liam smiled at her quizzically, “Oh, and what book was that, love?”

  She told him, adding, “It’s so exciting! The four of them are trying desperately to help the queen, but that Cardinal is so evil!”

  He laughed and nodded his head. “It’s quite a story, all right. I’m glad that you’re enjoying it.”

  Escorting Miranda over to a nearby desk, he introduced her to a hefty, middle-aged man in a nice suit named Edgar Morris, the bank manager. In less than five minutes, she had filled out the required paperwork for her new account and showed Mr. Morris her ID and had, in return, received a checkbook with some generic checks in it. She could use them to access the five thousand dollars in her new account until her printed checks arrived within the next two weeks. He assured her that her automated teller card would arrive in the mail even sooner and thanked both her and Liam for their business.

  “Well, that was painless,” he said as they left the bank together.

  He glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearing five o’clock. Looking up at Miranda, he said, “Why don’t we run the Rover home and I’ll take you somewhere for dinner tonight, instead of cooking?”

  “Oh, that sounds great, as long as it’s nowhere too fancy,” she replied. “I got engrossed in my reading and just threw these clothes on and dashed out of the house to meet you.”

  Looking at the pretty new shorts, blouse, and expensive sandals outfit she had just “thrown on”, he shook his head and said: “You still look like a young goddess to me, darling, but we’ll do as you suggest. How about Danny’s On The River? That’s casual, and it’s such a nice evening that we can dine outside, I think.”

  “Perfect,” she smiled back at him. “Let’s go; you follow me.”

  * * * *

  Miranda was humming as she drove toward home, Liam’s Jag right behind her. She had really enjoyed lazing around the house today, just reading, Danny’s was a great place to eat, sitting right down on the river as it did, with a terrific view, and the food was wonderful. She’d only been there once; she and Aaron deciding to splurge after their first “big” score when they’d first hooked up together.

  She laughed, remembering what the two of them used to think of as a “big score” when she’d started out with Aaron. They’d spotted a likely-looking mark in the same parking lot where she’d met Liam. They’d done
their act and sure enough, the mark had gone down like a sack of gravel after Aaron had hit him a few times. When he’d awoken, cradled in her arms and she’d sobbed her tale of woe and homelessness, he’d taken her back to his house for the night. When he’d awoken, cradled in her arms and she’d sobbed her tale of woe and homelessness, he’d taken her back to his house for the night.

  Turning onto Liam’s street—which she now thought of as “their” street—she went up the drive and pulled into the garage. She got out, still thinking of the poor guy she and Aaron had hustled that night. He’d turned out to be almost as down and out as they were, and he’d been satisfied her jacking him off all over her tits and face as she had knelt beside the bed subserviently.

  Aaron had brought the truck over the next day, after the poor jamoke had gone to work. They’d loaded up the unfortunate guy’s stereo, flat screen TV, and a crummy little coin collection she’d found stashed in the bedroom. The “big payoff” was six one-hundred dollar bills that the mark had kept rolled up in the toe of one of his cowboy boots in the closet. Back in their ratty apartment, they’d peeled one of the hundreds off the roll and gone out to Danny’s to celebrate the first large score together.

  Miranda shook her head at that ugly memory, closed the garage door, and went out the side door, locking it behind her. She went over to Liam’s Jag and hopped inside, pushing all thoughts of her former tawdry life with Aaron from her mind.

  “I’m truly glad you’re doing what you’re doing, with the reading program,” Liam told her, easing back down the drive in reverse. “I think it’s wonderful that you want to become better read.”

  She just smiled at him. She had enjoyed Mr. Dumas’s work a great deal, but her absolute favorite reading material of the day had consisted of a small article on page three in today’s morning paper about a certain Aaron Marberry being arrested for possession of marijuana and amphetamines with intent to distribute as well as driving while drunk. She knew that with his record, stretching all the way back to high school, he would be going away for at least a year, maybe even two or three. And, since he had no doubt spent most of the five hundred dollars she’d fronted him on drugs and drank up what was left at The Roadhouse, he wouldn’t be making bail or getting out anytime soon.