Unpredictable

Author's Note:

After much thought, I decided the best way to introduce my writing skills is with a ONESHOT that has a LEMONY twist. I implore you to read, review and remember good or bad; I like feedback

. --Kiba Blackfire ^_^

Unpredictable

It was another dark, cold and forlorn night for Damien. His week had been nothing but hell and that was putting it light. In one week; his whole life went to shit; Monday, he caught his girl in the act with some other guy while he was supposed to be at work. Tuesday, no surprise here she took off taking his car and whatever else she could pawn for cash with her. Wednesday; he tried to mend what he could to get his high school sweetheart back. Sad as it was, the newly engaged Damien was now a hopeless single bachelor. Then there was Thursday; the present...

He was stuck with nothing to wear to work tomorrow; as much as he hated it. It was laundry night. He was going to have to walk his happy ass all the way from his house; while it was still his house to the nearby 24 hour Laundromat at four in the morning.

He worked as a bartender for a ladies strip club. Tips weren't looking so hot right now. There weren't a lot of women throwing bachelorette parties this time of year and not a lot of tippers. He was sunk; his career, his life, over just like that. How was he going to afford his morning college classes now?

There was no other way out; he needed better tips. The only job that he knew he could get tipped better was if he got on a table and well, showed his stuff. He's skilled at it and had considered it but thought of it more as a last resort. How was he going to explain his new job switch to his mother? She didn't like that he was working there in first place. She didn't care if he did make good money on weekends, he's her baby; her twenty five year old baby.

Damien walked shamefully down the street carrying a basket full of clothes closing in on the dreaded Laundromat. It was so embarrassing walking around carrying a basket full of his dirty boxers and other things for all to see. It was just downright mean; he was kind enough to his own being to make sure he only carried one load to get through the week.

The second he walked in; he was swept away by a heat wave. Great, they still haven't fixed the air conditioning and it was burning up; he was burning up. As if this day couldn't get any worse. Damien set the basket on the machine as sweat dripped from his forehead beat from the long walk over here.

He wiped sweat from his forehead moving his long dark brown hair out of his face. He tugged at his muscle shirt with a rock band logo on it seeing as it was now stuck to his skin. He cracked the door letting some cool air in if only to help a little. Afterward, he cashed some ones for quarters and went on his way to doing his laundry. He wasted little time stuffing the clothes into the machine following up the process with his detergent and laundry soap.

He fed the machine his quarters and waited. His fingers tapped the machine as the heat only got worse. If only to combat the blistering flames, he removed his muscle shirt tossing it into the rattling machine. Damien shirtless body was in a word chiseled. He had taken great care of his frame in case he had to resort to being a stripper. Muscle wise, his body wasn't much to brag about just a bit defined with a distinct happy trail.

So fucking hot, Damien complained as he continued to sweat like he was trapped in a sauna. The thing about saunas; they were meant for nudity not clothes. His hazel eyes trailed the windows around him looking for any signs of eyes. Subconscious, he was tugging at his boxers, prying the thin fabric from his sweaty skin. It started to bug the hell out of him. People were going to think he was playing with himself if this kept up. He felt as if his balls were melting in his sweat. He couldn't help it, every three seconds that fabric glued to his sweaty parts. There were only a few cars driving by but moving fast. He was alone; no one else was here but him.

After all, who else would go to Laundromat at four in the morning? Damn these torturous boxers and their need to make him suffer. He trailed the windows once more as the cars stopped coming; the coast was clear.

Damien in a matter of seconds unclipped his spiked belt. He unbuttoned his ripped blue jeans, his fingers starting taking down the steel zipper. Damien felt as his pants started their glorious crinkle to his ankles. It was pure bliss; he let out a sigh of relief. Just a few more seconds, the disturbance of sticky boxer briefs would fade. He took the elastic band of his spider web themed boxer briefs, which had spiders running from each web. The band started their decent passed his sweat slicked skin. Almost there, he could feel the wind against his well rounded and quite toned ass. He heard a loud shriek from a girl. --Shit- His actions came to an abrupt halt as he rushed to recollect his jeans.

"Shit," Damien spoke out loud; her shriek scared him half to death. He thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He was sure that he was alone, there was a, there was a, girl here. No not girl, Woman. Where did she-, Damien's eyes searched taking notice of a solid black car. It rested right in corner of his eyes and blended into the night. Of course it did, He groaned this was just his luck. If he was lucky she didn't take notice of the tat on his right ass cheek. If he was lucky, luck being the keyword here; So far, luck wasn't on his side at all.

"Holy shit," The woman placed her hand on her chest. He had startled her, she taking in deep breaths trying regain her composure. "You scared me," Same could be said about...her. Damien eyes trailed this mysterious woman.

She had to be around his age or younger; it was hard to tell. Her eyes, her mesmerizing eyes; they reminded him of sapphires. Her hair, the raven colored current had a nice gentle flow down to her lower back. That figure of hers, his eyes were taken in by her remarkable curves. She was wearing a grey tank top with an alternative rock band logo on the front. It clothed her figure well and he was also aware of the band, she had good taste. Her agile legs were dressed by solid black wind pants with white thin vertical lines down the side. Damien wasn't sure if he was drunk or if he was just...lucky. This woman embodied perfection. The odds of him meeting a girl like her here it was a million to one. Yet somehow, here she was here at a Laundromat at four am with him... alone.

"What are you doing here at Laundromat at four in morning?" She retorted her hands were placed firm on her slender hips. Damien had trouble taking his eyes off her; he never seen a woman this hot before. She had the rocker chink vibe and he was digging it. This woman had him by the balls and didn't even know it. Plus he had reason for his lack of words. Damien as much she attracted him, he was trying really hard. To ignore this, she wasn't wearing a bra, he could see her tits and well, that was overkill. It took all he had to keep from getting aroused.

"I could ugh," Damien turned his head pointing at her chest. She immediately caught onto his hint. The woman covered herself tight. Her cheeks a bit red, was she going to slap him for pointing it out or...was he off the hook? Hard to tell, he had no idea what she thought. She wasn't speaking anymore, not that he blamed her. She had to be embarrassed after accidently flashing him her tits; though they were impressive, really impressive. Forget the tits, talk, "I could ask you the same thing." He leaned against the metal humming machine. "So tell me, what's a pretty woman like yourself doing here? It's dark and not what I could call safe. The crime rate around here is high; you could get hurt or worse."

"If I were ordinary," She answered. "I'm taking self defense classes for college credit and I had some martial arts training. If anyone tries anything, it's their ass that's getting kicked not mine." So this woman is tough, a tomboy perhaps. Even better, woman that wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty and punch a few assholes. He thought he liked her before. "Also don't just assume because I'm a woman, I need to be protected. I've had my fair share of assholes. So Doggie," She chuckled as she were teasing. Damien placed his hand on right ass cheek, his tat she saw it, "That's quite an ass you got there. It's better than mine." Did this woman just complement...his ass?

"Um, you saw that," Damien spoke deciding steer clear of her complement. He was flattered but it's an ass, his ass and he'd rather not go there with her. However, she wasn't steering clear of it. The woman eyes stared behind him, she was interested in his ass. It was in a word awkward.

"Sure did," She replied taking a seat in one of the many vacant chairs. "So Doggie," She ran hair delicate fingers though her gorgeous straight hair. It brushed passed her ear as her eyes grasped his attention. They damn near demanding it."Why Doggie? Most tattoos have a story or significant meaning behind them right?" Well, that's true but, did she really want to know? Even he thought it was bad idea to get a tattoo on his ass. He only did it cause well, "Why have Doggie tatted on your nice ass?" She arched back in the chair holding an old magazine.

"You really want to know," Damien sat on the machine. He knew she wasn't type to let this go; the woman wanted to know. She wants something, she takes it. That's the type of woman he imagined her to be in his head at least. The real version of her was unpredictable and hard to read. It only added to her undeniable charm. "It's a nickname, my friends used to call me that in High School. They still call me that, I work with them and we're still friends. It seemed like a good idea at the time, though I was bit under the influence of friends." He explained; she laughed. "I did some pretty stupid shit let's just leave it as that."

"I bet," She laughed harder. "A bunch of boys together at night, I can imagine things getting a bit out of hand. I'm assuming they are guys right?" They're guys and strippers which only makes it worse. Crazy is considered normal around them. This woman had no idea what shit they pulled together. If she did, she wouldn't be here. It got pretty bad; Damien was usually being dragged along by them. He had to be the one to draw the line. "How'd you get the nickname Doggie? The machine next to Damien buzzed; she got out of the chair taking clothes out of it.

"It was my Freshman year," He smirked. "I usually got lost going class to class. I had no idea where I was headed or what my schedule was for that day. I was just winging it, until I met my friends who weren't my friends then. They took my schedule from me and I went without it for days. It was unbearable. They pretty much teased me a lot at first. Until I got fed up and followed the guy that had my schedule around for several days. My schedule changed hands quite a bit. Whoever had it usually insulted me or flipped me off as a hint. I'd get mad and follow that person. I was what they called their lost puppy. As it turns out, they were making a game out of helping me. Each of them had a class with me. They would pass it according to the classes. So I was always in the correct class at the right time, when I got it back." Damien shrugged. "I didn't need it. They've been my friends ever since. As I grew with them, I went from being called Puppy to Doggie. That's the story,"

"I take it you weren't popular," She filled her basket with her damp clothes. The metal lid shut as she lifted up her laundry basket. "Just hearing that story about how you got your nickname. I can tell, you're not the same as you were then."

"No I'm not," Damien confessed. "I was a loser then or at least that's how other's viewed me. I didn't get the girls, I got the grades," She chuckled.

"I'd say you managed to get both the girls and the grades," She stared at his ass; he blushed at her. "You're hotter than you think Doggie," She slapped his ass, he jumped at the connection. He wasn't expecting her to grip his cheeks so tight. He kinda liked it. "Anyway, I'm going to put my clothes in the dryer and after that," She rested her basket at her hip; her free hand moved her soft hair passed her face. "I'm going to get back in my car over there," She pointed in the direction of the only car here. "Read a book while my clothes dry. While I'm doing that you can take off your underwear. If I get to walk around without a bra on, you can be without underwear. It's a Laundromat, we can share it." Damn, she was noticing that he was still facing the trouble of sticky boxers. Not smooth at all,

Damien thought about her offer. He was a bit cautious, considering she enjoyed staring at his ass. At this point, the boxer briefs had to go, he didn't want to stand here all night tugging at his underwear. "Reading a book," He wasn't convinced what if she looked away from the book. Sure he wasn't as hot as her but a naked guy is a naked guy. It would take more than a book, he smirked, a lot more than a book to distract her. "What else you got?"

"A music player," She added. "I herby promise not to stare at you; once I get in my car it'll be like I wasn't here. Come on Doggie, it's gotta be hard on your balls to be sticking to those boxer briefs. Plus, it's fucking hot in here. Your balls must be sweating." Damien blushed; yeah they were thanks for noticing. This woman, first it was his ass, now it's...his balls? He chuckled, she was really something. He watched as she walked over to the dryer, her ass wasn't bad either. It was well shaped and graspable. Damien went to chase her only to notice a pair of black lace panties on the floor. As she was walking they must have fallen to the floor, she dropped them. He picked them up they were quite soft, and he was a sucker for lace.

"You ugh, dropped these," Damien handed her back her damp panties.

"Thanks," She tossed them in the dryer as she added more clothes. "It's odd," She shut the dryer door. "I get the strangest feeling that I've seen you before," Words he never wanted to hear, great. Damien was already planning his retreat.

"You're mistaken,"

"I remember now," Her zest lips formed a smile. "You're that bartender that shakes his goods while he makes drinks right?" She accused. "You were working at that strip joint my friend took me to for her bachelorette party last weekend. That's a pretty impressive dick shake you got there."

"I'm happy to be of service," He spoke.

"Anyway, I will leave to you to your underwear." She tossed a dryer sheet into the machine. She started the machine and as promised. The raven haired beauty returned to her car and began reading a college text book. Damien watched her for a few minutes to make sure she was distracted enough. She was taking notes on the book, so he figured she had blocked out her surroundings by now.

At last, He felt his weight of his belt unclip, his ripped jeans taking that decent down his knees to his ankles. Damien felt such a relief as his hands gripped those clingy boxer briefs. They peeled down his skin as opened the lid to the machine tossing them in.

Free at last, he brought his pants over his exposed body. He took hold of his balls tucking them in as he clamped the button to his jeans and this next step, he was cautious. Damien took the steel zipper bringing back up careful so the metal teeth didn't snip his manhood. "Better," He let out a sigh of sheer relief. --What's this?- Damien before he had time to speak felt hands take hold of his skin. His body arched over the machine heavy, his sweat dripped from him. As those hands gripped his waist reaching lower, it was getting near that zipper. He turned to see who was trying to-It's her-

This raven haired beauty wanted him. Damien moaned at the thought as her lips pecked his neck. "What are you-," He broke the words; her lips the way they teased his neck..her hands the way she touched his lower stomach. Already he felt it getting tight, his blood boiling, his need to fuck her growing so intense. He damn near pleaded for her.

"It's complicated," She whispered that glorified word in his ear. How easy it described everything, his life, perhaps hers too. Complications, after how fucked up his life had gotten in the past few days. Most would think, it's the last thing he needed but, not him. Damien knew what he needed a distraction from all the chaos, complications made for great distractions. This fiery hot beauty wanted sex without ties; she just wanted to be fucked by him.

Damien felt her hands massage his shoulders; she was letting him think on it. Like he needed to, this woman was hot and wanted him. After everything he's faced, he needed all the complicated he could get. He lowered his zipper for her giving her his consent. She didn't hesitate, her fingers wiggled their way into his open slit as her soft hand...-Oh fuck- He gripped the machine tight as her remarkable hand stroked, tugged, and jerked his full hard-on. Nothing lady like about way she...-Oh fuck, she's so fucking good at- Damien couldn't resist her, the way her hand...he threw his hungry hips into the steel machine.

"F-F-F-F-uck," Damien could feel the riveting vibrations from the washing machine. They rubbed against his tender balls, no his entire..it..was being... -So naughty- Damien felt a sharp sting as her hand slapped his ass gripping his cheek so fucking tight. His sweat continued to drip as her hand...her hand..it..-For fuck sake- He had to kiss her before he...

His octaves struck out a loud moan. She must have found his moan hot, the way he pleaded. It made her try harder. Damn this woman, she had him going, hips flowing in a constant motion. Just her hand could do...more, he had to get more.

Damien faced her taking her soft raven strands into his hands. He bit her lip as he crushed her zest lips against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her leg squeezed around his hips. Their lips were rasped together in a roar of heat. He couldn't take her much longer, the anticipation of that body being ravaged by him. It was torture, he had to take her, he needed to take and fuck her now. He sat her sickening hot body on that steel machine. Their lips together as his hands tugged at her grey tank top peeling it off her sweat slicked skin. She broke kiss lifting her arms in the air, Damien whipped the shirt throwing it, her breasts. He gripped those wondrous pieces of flesh as their lips played, their tongue grazed across each other.

"Un," That sound, her moan, it gripped him by the balls. Damien hips plunged at the sound. His throbbing flesh was stricken with desire. The metal machine shook with his thrust. He needed to hear her plea, more moans. He had to hear more, Damien's fingers took a daring turn as he neared her cleft. He gasped at the realization; no panties! She should know better than to tease him like this. "Un," Her legs clinched as he slid his finger into her cleft driving her into heap of arousal. The way her wetness reacted to just his fingers it was...it was...maddening. "Aw yes," Her painted nails scraped at his shoulders. Damien noticed her hand drawing near his...she was trying really hard just to touch him. He had so trapped in her need for...him.

Damien took his free hand wrestling with his bothersome ripped jeans. The belt loosened as his fingers teased her wet...he felt her breath graze his ear, her moan striking it. He undid the button letting his pants crinkle at his ankles. He threw his hefty balls into her hand, she felt them. As if her need for him couldn't be more noticeable, her moan right into his ear. The second, her hand met his throbbing hard-on. She was quite taken with the size. He slipped his wet fingers free of her as he started to remove her wind pants. Their lips forced together as she caressed his balls in her hand. He fought with all his might just to keep it together and not bust out in a moan.