Her lips closed around it, and when she pulled it free, the handle, coated with her spit, shone in the artificial light.
She let her imagination run wild and conjured Zion in her head. It was he who was about to breach her body in this intimate way.
A shiver worked down her spine at the deliciously nasty thoughts.
Pulling her panties to the side, she brought the brush’s wet handle to her hole.
It was difficult to push the pretend-cock into herself at first. Her body was unused to the invasion and resisted it.
There was a slight burn when she finally pushed past the initial resistance, but even that was pleasurable. As she pushed the pink tip deeper, her flesh closed around the brush handle, gripping it hungrily.
Even more exciting was the sight of her pink sex swallowing the tool. She arched, and it slipped deeper, causing her to moan at the increased fullness, unconcerned with who might have heard.
With short jabs, she worked more and more of the makeshift sex toy into herself, and it began to slip in and out more easily with each insertion.
Thick, creamy and white, her feminine juices clung to the plastic as she pulled it free before plunging it back in.
Wet, slurping sounds filled the room as she became more forceful with the thrusts into her tight body.
Pulling her shirt up, she rolled and pinched her nipple as she took herself on the raunchiest ride she’d ever been on.
Zion was violating her like a wild beast, using her like nothing more than an object. He pushed deep, and the mental image was just what Beatrice needed to bring her over the edge.
When she came, she cried out, “Oh God, yes! Zion!”
Later, slumped in bed, sweaty from her lusty acts, she licked the brush clean, but even when she’d licked it clean, her scent still clung to it.
Although she’d recently cum, the musky scent turned her on. She made a mental note to wash it in the morning anyway.
She sighed as she placed the brush back in on the bedside table. Even though she should have been satisfied, she wasn’t. She burned even hotter for something more. Something she knew that she was unable to give to herself.
There was only one person could help her, she knew.
She opened the laptop once again and began to formulate a plan.
The next morning, Beatrice’s father was waiting for her at the kitchen table.
She was surprised to see him. It was after 6 a.m. He should have already left for work.
Just like everything else, things had not returned to normal between Beatrice and the old man since Zion left.
Now, Ron walked on eggshells around his daughter while she did her best to ignore him.
Without a greeting, she went to the stove and started breakfast. A few minutes later, she dropped a hot plate in front of him while she settled into a seat across from him to tuck in.
The grandfather clock in the living room ticked away the minutes by as they both did their best to keep their eyes trained on the individual plates.
The heavy silence was broken when Ron sighed heavily and allowed his fork to clank against the ceramic dish.
“Beatrice honey, we can’t continue like this. We need to talk,” he said.
She continued to chew as she threw him a look. After swallowing, she asked him, “What is there to talk about?”
She was not about to make this easy for him.
It was his decision to bring Zion into their home that turned their lives all topsy-turvy. It was all his fault.
She could see him grapple for the right thing to say before he started, “Honey, I was not myself when Zion visited and the things I said to you… I shouldn't have. I’m so sorry, Beatrice. Things are back to normal now, and I promise I’ll never behave that way again.”
She shrugged off his apology. Things would never go back to normal, “Actually I think I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. You were right. I am a grown woman. I should start acting like it.”
He was taken aback by her response, and it clearly showed.
“But I-” he stammered.
She continued over his scramble for words. “There’s something I need to tell you. I'm moving out. Actually, I'm leaving town.”
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Then, Ron exploded, “What?”
Beatrice took another calm bite of her eggs before she continued, “I’m not sure how long I'll be gone, but I need to see what’s outside of this town, so I’m going on a trip.”
“What the heck are you talking about? You can’t just up and leave.” he slammed his fist on the table.
She rose an eyebrow at his unusual aggressiveness in her presence, and he flushed.
“It’s like this – I need to figure out what I want to do with my life and I can’t do that just sitting around this farm and watching life pass me by. I need to see what else is out there and what my options are. So, I am taking a trip to the big city to figure things out for myself.”
He looked absolutely horrified at her speech as anger made his cheeks turn red.
“I forbid you to go on this trip, Beatrice. Absolutely forbid it. You can’t make such a big decision without talking to me first.”
Ron’s voice was hard as he said this.
Beatrice finally looked him in the eye, and even though her voice had softened, there was far more steel behind it.
“You can’t do that, Daddy,” she said. “I’m a grown woman now, and I don’t have to discuss anything with you. You can't force me to stay here. You can wish me well as I go, or you can fight me, but it won’t change the fact that I’m going. Make your choice wisely because you’ll have to live with the consequences either way.”
She went back to her methodical eating. Once again, only the clock could be heard for many minutes.
Then, “When are you leaving?”
“In two days. I’ve already booked my flight,” Beatrice answered.
When Beatrice's mom had passed away, she had left a nice inheritance for her and Beatrice could comfortably afford the trip.
She refused to think about the fact that she’d never stepped foot outside town or that it was a three-hour drive to the airport.
She’d made up her mind, and nothing would deter her from her course now. She would never be able to live with herself if she didn’t see this through.
Out of her peripheral, Beatrice watched the old man. He dropped his head into his hands and made a pathetic sound.
In little more than a week, her view of him had completely evolved. He now looked so weak compared to the perpetual pillar of strength she saw him as only days earlier.
More ticks of the clock declared the passage of time as he ran a hand over his head.
By the time he lifted his head, she was done with her breakfast. His plate still contained most of his meal.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Ron asked finally.
She smiled and said, “Yes, I do.”
A few days later, Beatrice arrived in the big city.
It was more than she’d ever envisioned it would be. The lights, the sounds, the sights, the people. The place was overflowing with life, laughter, and vigor, and it was absolutely infectious.
Leaving the airport, she stopped for a bite to eat and people watched, delighted at the variety of personalities that she was able to witness.
She then treated herself to a day of sightseeing. A walking tour of the local architecture, a ferry ride to the famous statue, a visit to colorful a culture festival. She’d fit as many activities as she could into what daylight hours remained. The wind blew in her hair, and she felt freer than she’d ever felt in her life.
More than ever, she was convinced that she’d made the right choice in deciding to visit.
As the day came to a close and the sun began to set, she could no longer delay going to her accommodations.
A cab ride later, she was standing on the sidewalk looking up at the massive resi
dential structure. Red bricks and white trimming made the house look intimidating indeed. It was more than three times the size of her home back in the small town.
The taxi disappeared around the corner, and she drew in a deep breath before walking up the stairs to ring the doorbell.
When she rang the doorbell the fourth time, and nothing happened, a trickle of doubt finally penetrated the certainty that her plans would work out just as she’d hoped.
What if he’s not home?
What if I have the address wrong?
What if he just laughs at me and slams the door in my face?
She bit her bottom lip and looked at the darkening sky. Ominous clouds had started to move in, announcing the imminent fall of rain.
Maybe it would be better if she turned back now and went back home. She knew her father would welcome her no questions asked, only happy that she’d returned.
She imagined what that life would be like--going back to her usual routines day in and day out.
No, that life was now far behind her. This plan just had to succeed. There was no going back.
She smiled triumphantly when she heard movement behind the red wooden barrier.
When the owner of the house finally opened the door, he staggered back one step with surprise at her presence.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Zion asked.
Beatrice smiled, not put off for one second. Especially when he answered the door with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his hips. Her eyes devoured his body, which was wet as if he’d just stepped out of the shower.
Yum!
“I'll be in town for a few days,” she told him, not taking her eyes off his body. “And as my old man's best friend, what better place for me to stay than at your place.”
“But I thought you hated me!”
“I did,” she answered.
She laughed louder at his flabbergasted look, picked up one of her bags and walked past him through the door.
“Would you be kind enough to get that other bag for me? Thanks,” she remarked as she sailed past.
There was no way in hell she was giving him the option of closing the door on her.
When the door finally closed, it rang with finality, and she felt smug satisfaction settled up within her gut.
Hopefully, she would feel another type of satisfaction really soon.
Chapter 6
Don't cross that line
Zion fisted his hand in the woman's coily hair and pulled as he plunged his cock deep into her from behind.
He slapped her ass and she gasped in delight.
Her flesh jiggled most enticingly and he had to compliment her, “Damn baby, you have a magnificent ass.”
He could tell that she liked his praise because she cocked it up higher.
To reward her, he licked his thumb and stuck the wet digit deep into her puckered asshole. She shuddered.
She gritted her teeth and the sounds that emerged from between her lips seemed to come from deep within her womb. She threw her ass back on him, taking everything he had to offer with the sincerest pleasure.
Her fingernails sunk deep into the cushions of the couch as her vaginal muscles quivered, signaling her approaching climax.
Sandy demanded that her partners get rough with her and instead of teasing her like they usually would have, Zion gave her what she needed because it was what he needed at that moment as well--to lose himself in a warm, wet, willing body that accomodated the wild storm brewing in him.
He wasn’t capable of being gentle, tender or even particularly civil at that moment.
Luckily, he had three bodies at his disposal. None of whom minded his edgy side.
Sandy's friends, two Caribbean women with cinnamon colored skin just as delicious-looking as Sandy's, were entertaining themselves as they waited for their samples of his big dick energy.
He had already forgotten their names but he could tell them apart as one had short curly hair while the other had long straight hair that touched the top of her plump ass cheeks.
Long-Straight-Hair was on her back on the couch adjacent to where Zion and Sandy were getting it on. Short-Curly-Hair was on her knees between the other woman's thighs, happily eating her out.
Short-Curly-Hair was making sounds like she was enjoying the most exquisite meal on Earth as she kept wiggling her ass in the air. Her fingers were playing with her bare cunt as she dined.
Long-Straight-Hair lifted her hips to meet and counter the motions of the lapping tongue. She encouraged the other woman with high-pitched sounds and dirty words. Her skin glowed as she moved and the look of ecstasy as she shook with yet another orgasm was truly beautiful.
Sandy shouted when she too reached another peak. Zion wasn’t done with her and kept on slamming into her through the climax, sending her higher as he blanketed her with his bigger body. He stroked her clit and palmed her tits to heighten her enthusiasm.
When he was finally through with her, she slumped on the chair.
She found the energy to laugh and said, “Oh Zion, you truly are a stallion! If only I could get my husband to fuck me half as good…”
Her praise meant nothing to him. His cock was still throbbing and glistening wet from her as he considered his next targets.
Sensing his scrutiny, the lezzing women stopped their naughty play and crawled over to him with movements reminiscent of felines on the hunt.
Short-Curly-Hair was bold and grabbed his cock to curl her tongue around the head. She moaned and closed her mouth around it briefly. The other woman stood and kissed his chest. She lifted her lips for a kiss but he bent her over his arm and took the huge nipple that topped her small breast into his mouth instead.
Spitting on the tip, Short-Curly-Hair pumped his rod and she said, “I hope it's my turn to have that huge cock inside me, Daddy.”
They had taken to calling him Daddy. He didn’t mind.
Short-Curly-Hair made up his mind for him. He let go of her friend’s boob and grinned down at her.
“Are you sure you can handle all this cock inside your tiny slit?”
Her eyes sparkled, “There’s is only one way to find out, isn’t there, Daddy?”
Indeed.
Zion sat down on the couch they’d recently occupied and positioned her reverse cowgirl while Long-Straight-Hair got between both pairs of spread thighs.
He kept Short-Curly-Hair's thighs spread wide for her friend to snack upon her dripping sex as he pummeled her from below. She howled about how big he was but pleaded with him to feed her hole more inches.
He obliged, and she orgasmed twice before Long-Straight-Hair demanded a turn.
He took her missionary style while eating an reinvigorated Sandy out.
Long into the night and early into the morning, Zion continued to have his way with the women.
His tongue and mouth licked and sucked their pussies, and they sucked on his cock, deep throating him at times.
He took all their pussies from several different positions.
He gave them climax after climax until they were weak and trembling.
His cock was still hard and revved to go when they begged for a reprieve from the mindless pummeling. He was disappointed because he could have gone on for several more hours, but he supposed it was time to go. He was getting tired of them anyway.
They weren’t keeping his mind off the things like he’d hoped.
An image of long blonde hair and innocent blue eyes flashed through his mind, and he decided it was time to ejaculate.
“All three of you. On your knees. Now.”
The three women rushed to obey his command with seductive twists and turns.
“Give it to us, Daddy. We want every drop of that thick cum,” Sandy purred.
He yanked on his cock, rough with himself until finally, he sprayed his seed across the three waiting tongues.
It was not, however, the faces of Long-Straight, Short-Curly, or Sandy that he imagined when semen streaked through
his veins.
It was 4:37 AM when Zion pulled his 5-series BMW into the garage of his suburban city home. There were four other vehicles housed in the space, one of which was a motorcycle.
The automatic door closed behind him, and he killed the lights.
He sat in the darkness, wanting to go in but restraining himself for just a bit to build his resolve.
Zion was restless and edgy. His cock was semi-hard inside his pants, and he was pumped to keep going. The foursome had not brought him the peace he’d sought when he’d left his home.
On any other night, he would have just found another woman or women, brought them home and used them until his body was content.
But something, or rather the presence of someone, held him back.
Beatrice.
His cock jumped at the thought of her, harder now.
He knew because he’d been trying to forget her for almost a week, and sinking into the hot horny holes of over a dozen women had yet to help him forget.
She still haunted him, and now that she was here in person, she was making it even harder for him.
He couldn't understand what was so different about her.
She was the furthest thing from his type, especially with the bratty attitude of hers.
Still, from the moment he’d set eyes on her, something felt off balance within him. The fact that he wanted to fuck her was not abnormal. She was beautiful and what hot-blooded man would not want a piece of that action?
The odd feeling in his chest at the thought of her… that was what bothered him.
A good rogering would get rid of the pesky feeling. He was sure of it.
But he could not lay a finger on her and therein lay the rub.
She’s off limits, he told himself before finally exiting the vehicle.
He turned the key in the lock softly and let himself into the huge modern kitchen.
The house was quiet, and all the lights were off except for strategically placed wall lamps that gave the space a moonlit glow.
Trixie Provoked Page 4