Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,
Snow
sweptawaybayou

  • Mood:

Song-Fic

Just something smutty.
Just something light.
Just for fun. . .

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Yes, my name is on the paperwork, but honestly, the bank owns both my car and my home.

Movie-verse, AU?? It’s smut, pure and simple. And everyone is of legal age! I swear!

Logan and. . .

Archive? Sure, just let me know where. SweptAwayBayou@aol.com

Rated NC/17 for sex, drugs and rock and roll.

Song belongs to Jackyl.





Smoke signal rising from my cigarette
I’m like an Indian warrior taking all I can get
You’re never quite sure just how much I know
Only that they call me Chief Rock-A-Ho

This feeling had nothing to do with love.
Nothing to do with respect.
Nothing to do with anything but pure, honest, unadulterated lust.
Logan had to get away from the school.
Away from the squeaky clean atmosphere.
Away from the rules.
Away from the kids.
God, the kids.
The constant, unflagging, whining little brats.
All day.
Every day.

“Mr. Logan, help me with this.”
“Mr. Logan, teach me how to do this.”
“Mr. Logan, please, show me what to do now.”

Oh, and Jubiliee, with her ‘Wolvie’ this and ‘Wolvie’ that.

Like he was a God damn dog or something.

Just once, just once Logan would love to turn around at the sound of her voice, pop out a claw, catch one of her hideous looking hoop earrings with it and ask,

“What?”

Maybe that would shut them up.

Yeah.

Right.


‘Cause I’m always thinking dirty, always thinking sin
Always moving over and sliding it in
Pumping like a diesel,
Stopping on a dime
I been a bad boy for such a long time


What Logan needed now,
right now,
was a dark smoky bar.
Preferably with a pool table.
Preferably with some loud, hard driving music.
Stevie Ray Vaughn?
John Lee Hooker?
Joe Satriani?
A tall, cold beer after a burning shot of tequila.

Or two.

Just enough to warm him up.

A fat Cuban clenched between his teeth.

Oh, and a statuesque, gorgeous redhead.
Or brunette.
Or blonde.

It’s not like he was picky.



And I’m
Feeling sleazy dirty
Feeling kinda mean
Feeling up and down and in between
Feeling kinda cocky
Feel I’m on the rise
Feel myself a coming between your thighs


This was more like it.
Logan slammed back the Jose` Cuervo double shot and drank down half of his Molson.
Steve Vai pumping out of the jukebox.
A cigar burning, smoke trickling out of his lips, past his eyes.
The soft bumps of pool cues against ivory balls coming from over in the corner.
And a beautiful woman staring unabashedly at him from across the bar.
Yeah, this could be a good.

You wear your war paint, it looks good to me
Hey baby, why don’t you step inside my teepee
Smoke on my peace pipe, it’ll make you high
You never know until you give it a try

Logan stared right back at her.
A slow grin easing the lines of the perpetual scowl on his face.
She stood up.
Walked over to him as he leaned against the bar.
In the corner.
In the dark.

“Haven’t seen you in here before.”

Her voice was smooth butterscotch.
Low toned.

“Guess it’s your lucky night.”

His was gravel.
Curled around her like the air.
He could smell her.
He could almost taste her.
The soft musk of her perfume.
The hot, wet, pulsing of her center.

She was his already.

I live for the right now day after day
I’ll use you up and then I’ll throw you away
I pump you like a diesel, I stop you on a dime
I been a bad boy for such a long time


He pulled her close to him.
His lips on her neck.
His hands roaming.
On her breasts, loose beneath the soft silk of her halter top.
Under her skirt, she was bare.
Touching her.
Seared by the heat.
Her fingers quick, unhooking his belt.
Unzipping his pants.
Pulling him free.
Wrapping around his hard, aching need.
He brought her up, on his lap.
Perched on the stool, his hands gripping her hips, moving her to a rhythm that only they could sense.
Oh yeah.
This was nice.
Sweat beaded on her forehead and he licked the salt from her.
Biting.
Thrusting.
Trying to get in deeper.

“Come for me.

Now.”

His harsh whisper in her ear.
Her hands digging into his arms.
And she did.
Then he did.


And I’m
Feeling sleazy dirty
Feeling kinda mean
Feeling up and down and in between
Feeling kinda cocky
Feel I’m on the rise
Feel myself a coming between your thighs


Finally they kissed.
Hot, hungry kisses.
Their tongues dancing against each other.
She slid off his lap, adjusting her clothing.
Logan tucked himself back into his pants, zipped up.
She grabbed the beer out of his hand and finished it.
Winked at him.

“See yah back at the school.”

Logan watched her walk out of the bar.
Watched the other men watch her walk out of the bar.
She turned at the door,
one hand reaching up to pull the white streak of hair out of her eyes.
She smiled at him.
Then she was gone.
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