Smoke Jumper - Sex Stories

Smoke Jumper

... the way? I can fix that,” he said as he flung a full beer that hit Jake in the face and chest. “Looks like you need to go home and change,” he said, bursting into laughter at his wit.

Gasps and “ooohs” came from surrounding tables.

Jake looked across the table at Brooke, he gave her a look that said, “Hey, I’ve been trying to stay out of this…” She returned the glance, shrugged, and crossed her arms in a manner that indicated that she agreed that a response was in order.

As Jake stood, Brad kept laughing and trying to give him directions to the laundromat. When he stopped for a breath, Jake calmly asked. “Are you done?”

And that’s when his arms shot out like pistons, rocketing Brad backward three feet into a pillar, his head thudding against the wood. Before the sound had dissipated, Jake took a step forward and drove his fist into Brad’s solar plexus causing the air to leave his lungs in an audible woosh. As Brad doubled over, Jake’s left hand delivered an uppercut to his jaw followed by a right cross, which was probably unnecessary as Brad was already falling to the floor, but the asshole had just soaked his new favorite shirt, so Jake didn’t feel too badly about landing the punch.

Jake turned to Brooke, preparing to ask her if she was ready to leave when she screamed a warning.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw a man running at him. He deftly stepped aside and then shoved the would-be attacker as he went by, sending him sprawling headfirst into the ...

... base of a high-top table. There was a sickening snap (probably a collarbone) followed by the thud of the table hitting the floor and the shattering of glass beer mugs.

Then, from Jake’s right came a slurred, “Fuuuck you!” He turned just in time to see a pool cue being swung at his head. He ducked and the cue struck the same pillar that had taken out Roy, The cue clattered to the floor. Crouching Jake quickly picked it up, then swung it at the ankles of his would-be attacker sending him to the ground howling in pain.

Jake put his knee on the man’s back and pinned his arm behind him. “I ought to shove this cue right up your ass, you son of a bitch,” he growled. “But I’m not going to, because I want you to tell your friend over there to listen to Brooke the next time she tells him to go to hell.”

Jake released the arm, stood up and turned to walk away. Thinking better of it, he turned and gave a swift kick, burying the toe of his heavy boot into the man's ribs, which gave way with a sickening crack.

“And don’t ever swing a fucking pool cue at me again,” he said.

As it turned out, if you hung out with a bunch of roughnecks who wanted to jump from planes into forest fires, you had better learn how to fight, and Jake had learned quickly and well.

A silence had fallen over the bar during the fifteen to twenty seconds that the fight, such as it was, had lasted. Then suddenly laughs and hoots erupted. Apparently, Brad and his friends were not very popular. Even so, ...