by Lena Bourne
It’s his turn now.
I want his cock inside me, exactly where he wants it too, judging by his grin and the sharp light of lust in his eyes.
But I want to taste him more.
I let my desire be known and he puts up no fight as he lays on his back. I straddle his hips, kissing his warm lips first before making my way down his chest, loving the warm, hard softness of his body against my lips.
His breaths are jagged and loud by the time I made my way down to his pulsing hard cock. He groans as I wrap my lips around the soft head, with just enough tongue and teeth action. I’ve had years of practice in giving blowjobs and I’m glad for it now, even if I wasn’t always. Glad to feel him shudder as I run my tongue down and up the thick, throbbing vein running along the length of his cock only to groan as I once again take the head into my mouth.
My eyes fill with water, a gag reflex threatening to overcome me, as he grabs the back of my head and feeds me more of his cock with a hard urgency I know I’m responsible for.
Fact is, I don’t know how much of his thick cock I can actually swallow, but I’m willing to give it my best. I know how he likes it, he told me he likes women who can swallow him whole best. But I’m gonna show him a new way, and I think he’s like it just fine.
I take his hand off my head, and lay it by his side, weighing it down with mine as I take as much of his cock in my mouth as I can before slowly coming back up for air and repeating the process. Where’s the fun in gagging while giving blow jobs? I never found out and I think I have him on board my train of thought too, as his whole body relaxes and his groans and breaths grow deeper and more satisfied as I lick and tease and taste his cock.
It’s divine. Better than any food, more satisfying. I could do this all night, but he’s close. I feel him fighting it in the way his whole body tenses each time, right before he almost erupts in my mouth. I don’t want that. I want him to know the same pleasure he’s giving me. So I redouble my efforts, take more of him, to the limit, faster and harder, working the part of the shaft I can’t swallow with my free hand, paying special attention to the head of his cock until his groans are just one long sound.
“I’m gonna cum,” he says, and I appreciate the warning, but I already knew. And I’m ready.
Or I thought I was.
He cums hard, his whole body hard like a stone before going soft with release. And I try to swallow as much as I can, but it’s too much and tickles as it dribbles down my neck.
I lay by his side, watching him as he recovers, sliding my hand up and down his hard abs and chest, getting my fill of the soft hardness of his skin.
He opens his eyes and fixes them on me. Gratitude, amazement, satisfaction, and lust are swirling in them, pulling me in.
“That was amazing,” he says.
I grin. “And I hope you’re ready for more. Because I sure am.”
He chuckles and pulls me close. “I’ll always be ready for more with you. Don’t you worry.”
Colt
I wake up to her kisses on my neck, softer than the softest breeze yet powerful enough to wake a tornado of lust. Already I feel the outer winds of it rising. I keep my eyes closed, so as not to interrupt this private moment of hers. Sure, I’m part of it, a huge part actually, the focus, but still it’s all her. And I love the attention.
I thought I cared about the women I’ve been with before her, but it’s nothing like this connection I share with Brenda. That wasn’t caring. This is. I want her all the time, I think about her all the time, and it all seems like it’s been like that for all time already. Weird. Right and exactly how it should be, but weird.
“I know you’re awake,” she whispers into my ear, right before taking my earlobe between her teeth and sending a whoosh of desire through me so hot, it’s actually cold.
“And I’m happy you are,” she says and snuggles closer. “I missed your voice in the dark.”
I cup her ass in my hand and pull her to me. “I’m here now.”
“So there’s no need for us to talk anymore, you mean?” she asks, raising her head so she’s looking down on me. I swear the whole Milky Way is shining bright in her night-sky eyes. I’m cursing my stupidity and inability for not being capable of thinking before speaking and not for the first time.
“That’s not what I meant,” I explain hastily, but she just smiles softly and gives me an even softer kiss, just lips, no tongue.
She’s such a wild creature when she’s in the throes of passion, so ready to come and feel good. I don’t really know this soft woman she is right now. But I want to know her. Despite being sure I want it fast and hard and all the time when it comes to sex, I’m not so sure anymore.
Then she kisses me harder, her tongue looking for mine, and she climbs on top of me. Her pussy is wet and ready, cool against my raging hard cock. I change my mind again as she guides my cock right where she wants it, deep inside her. She’s a pro at riding a cock, there are no two ways about it. And as she slides up and down my cock, gyrating her hips just so to let me feel every inch of her velvety softness, I forget all else. Or remember everything more like. So much it’s all just a jumbled mess of pleasure and feeling good, too dense to unpack, too good to try to.
I play with her bouncing perky breasts, slide my hands down her stomach and up her back as she does her thing for both of us. I don’t last long, I can’t, not with her. And I don’t have to, because there’ll be more after this. And better. If that’s even possible.
She comes with me, her moonlight-bathed body frozen as the ecstasy of her own orgasm overwhelms her too. She’s like a goddess from a storybook, perfect and timeless, but oh, so dirty and wild too, and I love the combination. There’s just no other word for it than that.
This time, I didn’t forget my duty to the MC. Or, more like, I would’ve forgotten, but I had the foresight to set the alarm clock for five AM before I even knocked on her door.
The shrill beeping that wakes me is the most unwelcome and jarring sound I’ve ever heard. But necessary.
“What the fuck is that noise?” she mumbles with her eyes still closed as I try to unwind my body from hers to turn it off.
I’m wide awake by the time I finally manage to stumble out of bed and turn it off.
Her eyes are open to slits when I turn back to her, and they’re not happy.
“Do you have to go again?” she asks, sitting up, her breasts bouncing so enticingly I almost blurt out no and jump back under the warm sheets with her.
“Not yet,” I say instead, tossing the phone onto the pile of my clothes on the floor. “But we have to talk.”
She sits up straighter, her back as rigid as a board all of a sudden. “Is that so?” she says challengingly. “Is this where you tell me we won’t be seeing each other anymore?”
There’s something very wild and very fragile in her voice.
“It’s nothing like that,” I tell her as I walk back to her and try to cup her cheek. But she moves back from my hand, an angry challenge still in her eyes.
“What then?” she asks. “I get to spend another four days alone in this motel room waiting for you.”
It was so much easier to speak on the phone, I realize. Not better. Nothing’s better than her in the same room as me. But easier.
I perch on the edge of the bed, wishing I’d rehearsed what I’m supposed to tell her at least a little bit before coming here, but setting that alarm clock was as close as I could get to thinking about this morning last night.
“My MC president…well, I…I have a favor to ask,” I stammer out.
Her eyes are very wide and kinda judgy. “You want to use me? Sell me out to some MC to get ahead?”
Where the fuck is this aggression coming from? What the fuck do I say? Those are pretty much the only two things in my mind. I’ve never been good with words. Or anything.
I reach out to cup her cheek, to comfort her, show her that using her is the farthest thing from my mind, that I don’t even know what
she means by it. But she leans back, her eyes still flashing in midnight black anger. So I awkwardly stroke her upper arm, which is the only part of her body I can reach. I doubt she’d appreciate me getting any close to her.
“I don’t want to use you,” I say dumbly. “It’s just a favor.”
“So I can say no?” she snaps.
I’m pretty sure she can read off my face that that’s not a very viable option, because she scoffs and wraps her arms tight over her naked breasts.
“Why would you say no?” I ask, only realizing my mistake as she pierces me with her angry look.
“I’ve been used hard by MC presidents in the past. Not so long ago, one of them almost had me killed, so I’m not in any kind of hurry to get tangled up with another club. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Well, now I do.
“But it wouldn’t be like that,” I say. “We just need some information. You wouldn’t have to do anything, and we’d be in your debt. I’d be in your debt.”
The last part is God’s honest truth, and even though I can’t be one-hundred percent sure that Cross would feel the same way, I kinda am anyway.
She’s still glaring at me, but her eyes are kinda glassy, like I’m looking into one of those orbs you shake and snow falls. Only it’s night in her eyes and nothing’s moving.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out not even entirely sure what I’m apologizing for.
She shakes slightly and seems to come to herself again. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve just…I haven’t been well. It’s been a long six months.” She chuckles, but it comes out more like a shudder. “You risked your life to save mine. Yes, I’ll do you a favor. Anything.”
“You actually saved my life in the end,” I say and smile and I can’t believe how easy it is to admit that to her. Somehow, weirdly, I feel more of a man for it.
“I did what needed doing,” she says, and this time her smile is warm and real and all there.
“And so did I,” I say. “I mean coming after you. That needed doing too.”
We share a silence that’s so full of something warm and relaxing and true, I kinda forget what we were talking about.
“So, what kind of information do you need from me?” she asks with a lazy half-smile what seems like an eternity later.
“On the Sinners, where they live, I guess, and what they do, that kinda thing,” I explain. “I don’t know exactly. My president wants to meet with you and ask the questions. He didn’t tell me what they were.”
“Will you be there?” she asks, taking hold of my hand.
“Yeah,” I say, even though I’m not sure. But I’ll insist on it.
She leans in for a kiss and I oblige her instinctually. Each time we kiss, she tastes like a fresh new thing I just found, yet also something that’s been mine for a long, long time.
15
Brenda
What the fuck did I agree to?
We’re standing by his bike in a desert wasteland, surrounded by stunted shrubs and encircled by rolling sandy hills. The hot sun is so bright my eyes are watering and my mouth is full of the sand Colt’s bike kicked up on our ride here. I’m getting second thoughts about this. Nothing good ever happens in deserts, I know that very well from being King’s mistress back in Vegas. But I don’t know how to bring it up.
I also don’t know jack shit about the Sinners. How can I possibly be of any help to this MC President?
What happens when he finds out I won’t be any help? Will I ever leave this sandy wasteland?
“Relax,” Colt says, looking at me very deeply.
“What if I can’t give your president the info he needs?” I blurt out, unable to stop myself.
“You just tell him what you know, that’ll be good enough,” Colt says, but I hear an edge in his voice. He’s not sure it’ll be enough. He’s worried too. And now my heart’s racing on top of the sun scorching the back of my neck and making my eyes water.
“I wish we had some water,” I mumble.
“Yeah, me too,” he says and smiles at me. And just like that, it’s just the two of us, and the world is ours and nothing is too challenging for us to face. I scoot closer and wrap my arm around his waist and he wraps his around my shoulders, but it’s too hot to be hugging, which we realize at the same time a couple of moments later.
So I just take his hand, wishing we had some water.
“That must be them,” Colt says, pointing at a cloud of dust in the distance.
My nervousness grows in tune with the growing cloud of dust on the horizon.
Why do I even trust Colt enough to come with him to this desert wasteland where just about anything can happen? What if he sells me to the highest bidder?
I grip his hand tighter. He wouldn’t do that. We’re too perfect for each other. He knows it too. It’s in every kiss he gives me, every caress, every orgasm. He can’t say it yet, it’s too soon, but I know he knows it just as perfectly as I do. He’d never sell me. I don’t think he’ll ever let me go.
That little pep talk to myself stills my racing heart and keeps the black thoughts at bay.
A group of four bikers is now clearly visible in the center of the cloud of sandy dust.
If I just answer their questions, then me and Colt will be able to spend all the time in the world together. He promised me this, and I plan on holding him to his promise.
The bikers stop about a yard from where we’re standing and dismount. The dust their ride kicked up is settling like shimmering confetti around them as they walk towards us. Ace, Stormi’s newfound boyfriend is one of them, and that sends my heart racing even harder than it was while I still just worried about this meeting. He was a goddamn Sinner! What the fuck is this. The shortest guy of the three is also the stockiest, built like a tank, and his eyes are mischievous like a little kid. The tall bald guy taking up the rear is vaguely familiar, but I don’t know from where. I’d like to just focus on him, because he exudes the kind of calm I’m in dire need of right now, but the black-haired, black-eyed man leading them just draws all my focus. He’s tall, built, and walks with the gait of a man used to leading. I don’t even have to read the patch above his left breast to know he’s their president.
Colt greets them and introduces me. I’m not ready for that black gaze of the president to fall on me quite so piercingly. It kinda shoots straight through me, and I instantly know there’ll be no lying to this man. He’ll know I’m lying if I try. I had vague plans to figure out what he wants to know, and then tell him that whether it’s true or not, but there will be none of that with this guy, and I know I better not try to deceive him at all.
“So, you’ve been with the Sinners for six months,” he says. “Did you get to know them at all?”
I swallow hard, my tongue sticking to the dried up roof of my mouth.
“I served them drinks,” I manage to stammer. “And I did my best to keeps them all at a distance. They hated me for stealing that money from them, and I figured it’d be safest to hate them back.”
He nods, almost like he understands.
“So I don’t know how much I can tell you about them,” I continue honestly. It’s not hard being honest with this guy. It’s because he seems to understand. But how safe is he?
“You were pretty close to Piston, weren’t you?” Ace asks. “Stormi told me.”
I almost ask him how she’s doing, but manage to stop myself just in time.
“I did try to get close to him, yes, but he was…or rather, what I’m trying to say, he wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man, so my charms didn’t work on me. He was like an awkward teenager in a man’s body, if you know what I mean.”
I bet none of these men do. I bet they weren’t awkward around women even when they were teenagers, and I doubt any of them remember that time at all, even if they were.
“Yeah, I got the same vibe from him,” Ace says.
“He mostly complained about the Knights, which I think is their rival MC, needing to be taught a lesson, especi
ally after the night Ace saved them from an attack by the Knights and some other club—Devils something. I don’t really know.”
The president narrows his eyes in an annoyed way, which I take to mean that he knows all this already. I’m being totally useless to him, I can tell. But where does that leave me?
“Here’s the thing,” he says. “We know they were snitching to the feds, at least Griff and his sons were. And possibly some of his execs. It doesn’t matter, because they’re all gone now.”
That hits me like a fist to the stomach. They’re all dead? I can’t say I’ll miss any of them, but dead is so final.
“Griff was a mean old bastard, and everyone kinda feared him and worked really hard not to annoy him,” I blurt out. “He was known for having men killed if they displeased him, so everyone tried to keep him happy at all times. I never heard anything about them talking to the cops, but then again, I wouldn’t have, now would I? That kinda thing is forbidden. Isn’t it? It’s why they’re dead, isn’t it?”
I’m just rambling and I stop myself, because I know I’m just doing it to appear like I have information to give. It’s not working if the president’s narrowed eyes are anything to go by.
“What I was getting at is that one of the Sinners is still snitching to the cops,” he says. “Do you have any idea who? Was there someone particularly close to Griff?”
“There was the execs, Tiny and Coins and Spy. They were always together,” I say, but Cross is shaking his head ever so slightly.
“The sons, Piston and Horse,” I continue. “Mouse and Brick usually watched their backs, but Mouse is dead now. And Crow, he was a scary guy that I’m pretty sure did most of the quiet killing for the club. But he’s dead now too.”