Enter the Dragon
Courtney stared at the number written on the piece of paper she held in her hand, which her best friend and partner-in-crime Becky had given her.
Dare I? she wondered, her eyes flitting to her mobile phone, which lay on the bed beside her. I mean, I was complaining pretty hard to her about the lack of action my pussy’s been getting. She sighed. Things haven’t been the same since James passed away. Not to mention this damn pacemaker I had fitted. Who has heart problems in their 30s? A widow, clearly.
She closed her eyes and thought about the conversation she’d had with Becky that morning during their Monday coffee, cake and catch-up ritual.
* * *
“Look, I know a guy,” Becky said, sat at Courtney’s kitchen table. “He’ll sort you out. Trust me,” the blonde bombshell with balloon-like knockers continued. “He’s not the brightest tool in the box, but my God . . .”
“Yeah? Hmm, I don’t know. I mean, I have my toys,” Courtney said. “And Buttons.”
“Christ, you just said you’re gagging for wood! Your tabby cat and toys can’t provide that. Dragon definitely would though.”
“Dragon? What sort of name is that?!”
Becky scoffed, rolled her eyes and laughed. “To be fair, I didn’t get it at first, but it’s because he has a giant cock.”
“Ah, like a dragon’s?”
“No, because he’s draggin’ on the floor!”
Courtney spat her coffee and howled with laughter. “Oh, you bitch, Becky,” she said, coughing and spluttering, wiping the remnants of hot drink off her chin. “I’ve never heard that expression before.”
“Honest to God, it reaches his knees. Boy’s a freak show.”
“You’re something, girl.”
“I heard he fucked a cross-eyed girl so hard once, that her eyes became straight.”
Both girls laughed.
“But he’s thick, you said. A bit slow?”
“Oh, the lad’s going backwards, he’s that slow,” Becky said. “When I first chatted with him, I told him to come over and hose me down with that giant prick of his. Unfortunately, I left out the ‘giant prick’ part in my message, thinking he’d know what I meant, but he turned up with a bar of soap and his garden hosepipe, ready to wash me down, thinking it was a kink.”
Courtney scoffed. “Nobody’s that stupid.”
“Trust me, he is. But Jesus, he knows his way ’round a love tunnel. He screwed me inside out, and I think that’s what you need before your big trip away to Tinseltown Island.”
Courtney cupped her coffee mug and nodded. “Well, I could definitely do with loosening up.”
“Here’s his number,” Becky said, writing it on a piece of scrap paper. “Tell him I sent you.”
“Got a photo of him?”
Becky produced her phone and began scrolling. “Pretty sure I . . . Ah-ha!” she said, turning the mobile to Courtney. “Hunk, right?”
Courtney eyed the picture, spying the large, topless and broad guy, who had shaggy blonde hair. “Beautiful.”
“Yeah, but try not to look at the dent in his head. There’s a metal plate there.”
“What happened?”
“Kicked by a feisty sheep during shearing season. Lucky to be alive, really.”
Courtney’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Poor thing. So, he’s a farmer?”
Becky nodded, eyes darting to the clock on the wall. “Shit, that the time? I need to shoot—I have a hair appointment in town,” she said, swallowing the dregs of her coffee and standing.
“Could you send me that photo, please?”
“Sure. Must dash!”
The snapshot had pinged through to Courtney’s phone hours later as she lay in bed, and she was unable to resist breaking out her vibrator after examining the picture of the golden-haired stud.
“Damn, those chest muscles,” she had said, imagining Dragon throwing her around the bedroom. With her free hand, she moulded her pert tit, teasing and pinching the nipple. As one part of her dildo had stimulated her clit and the other plunged her pussy, she climaxed for a fourth time.
Spent, she lay there, thinking how much she missed sex.
“Fuck it,” she said, reaching for the number, her hands shaking.
But, as much as she wanted to reach out to Dragon, she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it and had found herself staring at the number until the digits were seared into her brain.
* * *
Courtney looked at the paper and thought about it again.
“It’s just sex,” she said, biting her lip, envisioning Dragon pounding away at her. A kaleidoscope of butterflies erupted in her gut, her pussy beginning to awaken for more. “Christ, I’ve got such a horny, naughty kitty-cat.”
The fingers of her free hand slipped between her legs, her mind overtaken by an image of Dragon bending her over her bed, his tongue lashing her from back to front.
Do it. Do it now, while you have the mind to, a voice whispered inside her head.
“It’s almost midnight,” she muttered, her breath trembling.
Then, a wicked thought came to her: I’ll text him. Tell him there’s a key to my front door under the welcome mat outside.
She sent the message.
With a giggle, Courtney threw the bedcovers to one side and stood on trembling legs, her thighs shaking. After steadying herself, she rushed downstairs, took her door key off the bunch, and placed it under the hessian doormat out front.
Heart pounding, she thought for a split second about retrieving the key. No, never mind. If Becky vouched for him, that’s good enough for me.
With a titter, she rushed back upstairs to see if he’d texted back. Her face lit up when she noticed the screen to her phone flashing. With a trembling hand, she opened his message: Sure, I can do that for you. See you in the morning. Dragon. Xx
Oh, God. I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought, heading towards her shower to clean up and trim her pubes.
When she was done, Courtney got into bed, naked, and tried to sleep. But her mind raced, thinking about waking to the touch of his rough, farming hands. His face buried between her thighs or his mouth nibbling her tits. She squirmed.
Stop it. She turned the light off and wriggled down in her bed. I’ll never sleep at this rate, she thought, feeling her clit pulse.
That was the last thought to cross her mind, as sleep took her.
* * *
An acrid, choking stench awoke her with a cough. Trails of black smoke filled her bedroom.
“The hell?” she said, bouncing out of bed, sleep and drowsiness lost. She grabbed her gown and slipped her feet into her slippers.
Sunlight poured through her window.
Jesus, how long have I slept?
She rushed out of the room. When Courtney reached the top of the stairs, the smoke alarm located there kicked in, and she had to stand on tippy toes to turn it off.
She ran downstairs and checked all rooms, finding nothing out of sorts until she arrived at the kitchen. Upon entering it, she spotted a plume of fumes snaking from the oven—the source of all the smoke and commotion.
Before her, sat at the table in coveralls plastered with cow shit, was the behemoth called Dragon. He tore at something ravenously.
She gasped, taking in the heinous scene. Is that . . .?
It was.
She fell back against the door, the handle jabbing her in the small of her back. The wind sucked from her and she was unable to move.
Dragon held the remnants of Buttons up, snapped off one of the feline’s charred legs (which he’d stripped like a fucking piranha), and ripped into it with his teeth, devouring flesh, blood and gleaming bone as though he were eating ice-cream.
Done with the leg, he smashed his hands into the cat’s gut, ripping and tearing, shattering the ribcage, shoving partly cooked innards and intestines into his mouth. Blood, gristle and grease splashed everywhere. His huge, chewing maw was a gory mess.
“Mmm,” he said between mouthfuls, giggling a hick-like, hiccupy laugh, which would have sounded goofy in a different scenario. Dargon licked his fingers and went back for more, pulling the tabby’s tail free and chewing through the sinew and muscle.
Courtney wanted to vomit, her stomach twisting, as a fresh, hellish smell hit her. “What the fuck are you doing?” she screamed, her face and neck turning red, then purple. Veins protruded from her forehead.
Pain exploded in her chest and rushed down her arm.
“You said your pussy was naughty and unruly, that it was playing up, and that you wanted me to come over and sort it out. Teach it a lesson. ‘Eat the fucker,’ you said.” He shrugged and grinned. “Well, I am. The fucker won’t be giving you any more grief, darlin’.”
He stuffed handfuls of Buttons into his slobbering mouth, whiskers and all, as Courtney slipped down the door she’d collapsed against.
Her heart gave out, her face twisting into a painful, frozen scream.
Horror Sleaze Trash 