Of Monsters and Men

(Many thanks to my readers so far, thank you for the glowing review I look forward to telling the whole story of Victor and the gal of his dreams, Maggie. More reviews are welcomed! I'd love to hear more from you!)

We board the plane, first class. She tells me she's never flown before. Never had the cash for it. Some part of me is kinda glad I'm the first at something with this little broad. I hate talking on planes, I never have been comfortable doing it. So I let her do the talking, asking questions. I want to know everything, where she's been, why she hides.



"So,..what's the story on the tattoo?" I ask.



She orders a drink from the stewardess and settles in her seat, leaning against my arm.



"Everyone in my unit got the same tattoo. Sort of a bonding thing when we got back from the desert. Probably the last time I saw 'em all together."



"You liked the service?"



"Sure, travel, meetin' people, fantastic guns. The front lines were the best time of my life, Mr. Creed. I could..do..what came natural and no one looked at me funny. Well..till that one night. I'd not exactly made a practice of
tellin' people I was..special..ya know? But when we were under heavy fire one night, I kinda messed up. I dropped my shield and a couple rounds got thru. Tore my jacket,..but of course didn't touch me. People started askin' too
many questions. So..I got myself discharged." she says with a smirk and a slight blush.



I arch an eyebrow down at her, "They wanted you for special ops didn't they?"



"How'd ya guess?" she drawls and rolls her eyes. "But even the special ops programs don't want someone who disobeys direct orders and punches Generals. So I got sent home, stripped of my rank. I didn't wanna go to college like my brothers so I went to bartending school. figured I could maybe get a job as a bouncer or somethin' at least. Strippin' was the next step in my descent from respectability. You can guess Thanksgivin' ain't too fun back home no more."



I tried not to laugh. She'd narrowly avoided ending up like Me..or the Runt. Smarter than she looked obviously, but lacking in self-esteem. Just the way I like 'em, they're so much easier to manipulate that way, to bend and train. I
play the interested concerned guy.



"Brothers? How many ya got?"



"4..my oldest brother is a mechanic owns a garage. Then there's the twins, Matt's a pediatrician in New Orleans and Paul is in Corrections. Then there's the baby, he graduated high school last year and is already in pre-law. He's like me,..Joey is. But he hides it good. Daddy was one of us too." there's something in her voice that sounds odd, sad.



Might as well find out what it is, dames love talking about stuff like that.



"Your Dad disappointed?"



"He probably would be, but he died a couple years ago. Mama,..she died when I was 13." She clams up after that and orders another drink, waiting until it comes before talking again. I take advantage of the silence to lay my head back
on the seat and slide a hand into her lap, her skin is so soft under my fingers, I can still feel the warmth of her pussy thru her skirt. She puts her hand on mine and slides it back down to her knee. I grumble and cut her a look. She grins back at me and leans to whisper in my ear.



"Mr. Creed, I don't think even the first class bathroom would be able to fit us both..wait till we land." she licks my ear and it sends tingles down my spine, good God almighty, she's a keeper!



"Okay,..okay. 13,..your powers were just comin' out weren't they?" I ask low putting an arm around her shoulders. She knocks back the little bottle of scotch and nods, chewing on her lower lip.



"I didn't mean to do it..I was mad at Paul for some stupid thing and she was comin' up the stairs from the basement.. She fell and broke her neck. I knew it was my fault, but everybody kept tellin' me it was an accident, that she'd just
slipped on the stairs. I still can't stand the smell of pickled okra..she was carryin' a jar of it when she fell, it broke and went everywhere. I...I guess I've been killin' ever since."



I can smell the salt, one..maybe two tears. I play my claws through her hair and rumble low at her.



"We all gotta start somewhere kid, if you didn't mean to do it, you didn't mean to do it. It don't matter. I ain't gonna point fingers atcha."



She makes a little sound, sort of a sigh, sort of a whimper. I scrape my claws against her neck. She shivers all over and moans real low in her throat.



"What?" I ask, all fangs and smiles.



"Mister Creed...I said..wait." She smiles back, those dark eyes narrowed just a little and I feel something tighten around my cock, like a hand no one can see. I shudder and let out a surprised breath. She continues to smile that
wicked little grin up at me, the pressure around my cock seems to ebb and flow, like her breath. squeezing and stroking me even through my pants, I latch my hand around the back of her neck, tips of my claws digging against her skin, it's rock hard again. "nuh-uh-uh Mister Creed.." she says soft in a sing-songy voice. I growl low in my throat at her. She slings one of the blankets over my lap and my zipper goes down again, she never touches it. I wanna shove her head down under that blanket, make her slide that zipper down with her teeth. My cock jumps free when she releases it. Red eye flight, most are asleep and the cabin is dim. I have to bite back a groan when she wraps her fingers around me, her hand feels soft as velvet, she strokes slow and even and I grip the arm of the seat, my toes curling in my shoes. She darts her eyes around the cabin and ducks low and fast, she holds the rest of her body so still, she could be sleeping on my lap but her hot mouth wraps around the head of my dick and her tongue rolls, she sucks like a Pro and the thrill of being caught by the flight staff makes my pulse pound and it doesn't take long for me to bite back a grunt, hips bucking up once, sinking my dick deeper in her mouth as I fill her throat with cum again. She licks me clean and tucks my cock back into my pants, then lays on my lap, curling her legs up a little more. I sigh and rest my hand on the curve of her hip, claws against the tight fabric of her skirt.



"Think that'll hold ya till we get where we're goin?" She murmurs with a grin.



"that'll do Mag,..that'll do." I grin back and nod. The Pilot comes on the intercom and tells us we'll be arriving in NYC in about 30 minutes. We nap until we land. I pick up the car from the lot and put her bags in the back, just two.
She climbs in the passenger seat and leans it back, her eyes still drooping.



"Wake me when we get there,'kay shug?" she says with a sleepy little purr.



I grunt in reply. Her familiarity is almost unnerving me, but at the same time comforting. Birdy would talk to me like that sometimes after sex, all cuddly and sweet, it was the only time she'd call me anything other than Mr. Creed. I drive
us home and park in the garage. I let her sleep and just carry her inside. She's light as a feather when she sleeps, surprises me, I figured she'd be heavier. The hot tub can wait, I'm actually tired and she's like a sleepin' cat, she's inducing some kinda after sex coma. I lay her on the bed, she stretches and yawns, shedding her clothes and rolling under the covers without even opening her eyes. I watch the play of her muscles and note the old scars on her back. small ones like little pieces of shrapnel might have dug into her at some point. That golden tan skin is all over, no tan lines. Either she sunbathes nude or that's just her skin color. I shed my travelin' gear and slide into bed beside her, putting an arm around her waist I pull her over against me.



"Mine." I murmur against her hair.



"mm-hmm." she mumbles and nods.