I grabbed him by his hair and I pulled him as hard into me as I could. I laughed and wept, I sobbed and shouted his name. I must have squirted in his face, because my thighs were running with wetness. Through the spasms I heard him, “Yes, Ceris. YES! Come. COME FOR ME, NOW!”
And I did. I twitched, and my buttocks and my thighs clenched so hard I thought that my spine and pelvis would tear apart. I withstood fabulous, seismic spasms bursting through me. I came so hard and yet, somehow, still I stood.
When he stood again, there was no sign of composure on his wet face. I smiled to see his lovely golden hair completely mussed and his eyes so wild. He looked in my eyes and grinned. Then he released the clamps and I fell to a moaning heap on the floor.
His laugh was like a taunt. It was an amplified version of that damned grin.
When I was able, I got to my knees, level with his beautiful hips, level with that magnificent monster pulsing in his pants. As I reached towards him, my lips wet and parting, he said, “AH!” and wagged a finger.
“I have had all the pleasure of you so far.” Tyler said. “I think it’s time to give Brock and Amon a reward. Haven’t they been good?”
The two big, gorgeous brothers with the same lustrous golden-brown hair watched me with the same gorgeous. The triplets. Their golden skin glistened in the low light. The scent was still there.
As the two huge, naked men approached and Tyler shed his clothes, I didn’t know how I was going to tell the great men apart, until I discovered a way. They were all big, in every way. But in one way more strikingly than any other.
Their cocks were incredibly long and thick. Longer and thicker than any I’d ever seen before. The slick, dark head of Amon’s cock rose up and above his navel. Brock’s was longer still, and nearly as fat. Tyler’s length was in between the other two, but his cock was even thicker. Its weight kept it pointed right at me.
Tyler and Amon held me and took turns kissing me. Brock was eager to hold and feel my swollen, heaving breasts. Amon moved behind me and rubbed his massive, hot member between my quivering thighs. It stretched along my lips, rubbed up against my hot clit and poked a few inches out under my fuzzy mound.
I couldn’t imagine how much of that long, hard beast he thought he would be able to shove inside me. He dragged it back until he was able to jam the heavy head of it into my dripping lips. It shoved my opening wide and I had to move my legs apart to give it easier access.
Then he reached for my breasts as the bulb burst into me. My pelvis rocked. I had seen how long he was, but I wasn’t prepared for his width. As he shoved it farther up me, I bent forwards, my hands clasped and my mouth stretched.
Brock took that as a cue, and brought his fat, throbbing cock nearer to my face. He beat it on my cheeks and the weight of it shocked me. He banged it on my big, soft breasts and rubbed it between them.
Amon pushed in and the stretch in my insides was the most intense, good pain I had known. It was ecstatically good pain. But it was a lot of it. My eyes rolled and my mouth filled with sweet saliva.
I began to say, “Oh, oooooh, it’s tooo biiiig!” But the dark spicy scent of man filled my head as Brock pushed his thick, hot rod between my lips. Amon stretched me wider than I thought I could go and I wriggled my hips to try to open them further.
Brock’s wide ridges pushed my mouth open as his slick, hard bulb dragged its smoky tang along the length of my tongue and all the way to the back of my throat. I’ve taken a cock in my throat before, but I never felt my neck bulge and stretch like it did around Brock.
My feet lifted in turn as I tried to make a wider opening for Amon. He lifted my leg high, and that helped some. He was still way too long and far too fat for me, though. As he sawed into me, I didn’t know how much of that scrumptious pain I could bear.
To take my mind off it, I concentrated on drawing and suckling on Brock’s fat cock as he slid it between my wide-stretched lips. His shaft began to pulse after a series of long, hard strokes that made him hotter than ever. I knew it would be time for him to come soon.
And it was. Brock growled as his huge cock burst into my throat in a volley of hot blasts. His thick, salty jizz filled my throat and slid around my tongue and my mouth. He pumped and pumped, and as it reached my lips and he pulled out, I gasped and I said, “Mmm, delicious. But it’s too hot!”
Brock held me as Amon pulled out of my sore pussy and came around to pump his cock into my mouth, too. It was easier to get his head and his girth into my mouth, and his taste was distinct but just as wonderful.
His length, though, I couldn’t get my lips more than about two thirds of the way along the hot, pumping rail as it reamed into my throat. I sucked as hard as I could, and in no time rings of beating pulse ridged along his massive cock and he was spurting thick gobs of hot semen into my mouth and throat.
“Mmm,” I wiped my lips and my mouth, and pushed the gorgeous man-juice all in. “Too thick,” I said, but it was delicious and I gulped it all down.
Then Tyler brought his huge marvel of manhood to my waiting lips. As I got my mouth busy around his fat, fabulous shaft, Brock was getting to work behind me, rubbing his thick, stiffening cock against my swollen, wet petals.
As I sucked on Tyler, Brock began to breach my opening. I thought Amon was thick! Brock stretched my lips, my walls and my pain threshold. My poor little puss pumped and drooled over him, and he lifted my leg even higher than Amon had done. My back arched and stretched, my mouth pulled wide and my muscles flexed.
Brock was just too thick. He slid in and out of me, forcing me wider. My wet throat vibrated and pulsed. Wrapped tight around Tyler’s perfect penis, it made him pump harder and he grew hotter. I cried out when Brock stiffened and beat harder, but the sound only became a rumble on Tyler’s cock. Brock was getting ready to deliver me a second helping of his thick cum.
The dark tang of Tyler’s precum told me that his first serving wasn’t far away, and he held me by my hair as he drove his cock into my face in earnest. My tongue stretched along his bottom ridges and relished his perfect taste.
He pounded my mouth and his heat rose, at the same time as Brock began to blast away in my sore, wide stretched pussy.
My hands clenched, my buttocks tightened, and my stomach rolled as Brock practically split me open and came in blasts inside me. Tyler made a throaty growl as his cock pulsed into my throat. The taste, the temperature, and the texture of him was luscious and I swallowed every last drop.
Brock filled me with his sticky bolts of hot, thick cum and my climaxes crested and crashed. My poor pussy ached when he slid out. I had learned to love the pain he caused me, though.
Amon approached me with his massive mast uncoiling, working up to his second showing. I was relieved when he lifted me and laid me on my back on a table and hoisted my ankles over his shoulders.
The other two brothers came up either side by my shoulders so I could stroke and suck their fantastic cocks, to give myself some distraction for what I knew was to come. Amon brought his shaft to the wet center of my sore petals. My back stretched and my legs spread as he bored into me.
Amon filled me so full and so hard I sucked on Tyler’s and Brock’s cocks, and I yanked on my nipples in turn. I bit my forearm and my hands clutched. His length was almost unbearable, but at least he wasn’t as wide as his brother Brock.
As Amon beat his rod hard into my soft canal, I felt him twitch, he growled, and I knew that it was going to be time for him to cum again. Amon’s second salty salvo splashed inside me, and his growl was like low thunder as he came.
Tyler stroked my hair as he lifted me gently onto his cock. My legs and arms wrapped tight around him so he wore me like a skin.
My plump, wet softness opened wide to let him in, and my walls closed around him, hugging him. His length was breathtaking, and his girth, heart stopping. Tyler pumped into my pussy with his wonderful wand. His thighs beat against mine and his balls slapped gently against my ass.
Tyler was jus
t right. He filled me with his perfect hot cum. I squeezed, sucked, and bucked against him with every part of me to get every drop I could out of him. Tyler’s cum was hot and slick and it filled me to perfection.
He growled, I shouted, and we came together like the clouds of a bursting rainstorm.
Afternoon was fading into an autumn evening as we sat on deck and the sun began to set. Brock said, “You are going to be our perfect mom, Ceris.”
Amon brought champagne on a silver tray and he said, “You are the woman we have all been dreaming of.”
I looked in Tyler’s eyes as he told me, “You will be the perfect mother for our cubs.”
“About the servings, Tyler.”
He stroked my hair. “Yes, Ceris. What about them?”
“What are the third and fourth servings like?”
MC STORIES
Belle
INNOCENT
Knights of the Lost Highway MC
Alice May Ball
For Gat, my rock.
Without you, it wouldn’t mean a thing
Her eyes flickered and flinched as the big biker laid her out on the pool table. His eyes widened at her soft, undulating breasts. With his forearm behind her knees, he lifted her red, stinging thighs up to her chest. Her hands stretched out and grasped as he pressed down.
She shook and cried out as he slapped her ass. A grin spread wide across his thick, powerful lips and he plunged his mouth onto her swollen and sore lips.
She shuddered and as she shook and moistened, his tongue fanned her. She throbbed there and her body convulsed. He sucked on her. When she moistened, he drank greedily. His long tongue probed and explored her soft opening mercilessly.
Her waves of vibration swelled to a gathering crest, her thighs, her stomach and her buttocks clenched and released. Tightened and relaxed. When her walls gripped on his tongue, her mouth sagged and his hand closed around her throat.
Through the grimy glass, the spotty gas station clerk could not have been less interested. He barely pulled his half-closed eyes from the screen. His voice crackled through a tinny speaker, “That card’s been declined, ma’am. Do you have another card you can use for payment?”
Bad news, baked dry in the Nevada heat.
It had to be a mistake. I stepped away from the pay window and called Larry. My cellphone went straight to a machine that said, ‘there is no service on this number at present.’
Perfect. I was about to put it away when I saw that a text had come in. ‘Your service has been terminated due to non-payment,’ and a number to call. I called the number.
I got the machine again, telling me that there was no service.
Practically the middle of the desert, I had enough gas for about twenty miles and that was it. Eight dollars and forty cents in cash. I figured my best, safest option was to drive back to the one-street blur that I passed through about six or seven miles back.
I remembered thinking Here’s somewhere I’ll never need to see more of. I was out the other side, back into dusty desert scrub before the thought was even finished.
Now I turned around and drove back. I found a post office that doubled as a bus station. An empty diner with peeling paint the color of rust right next door. With a sorry-looking grocery store by the gas station at the other end, that seemed to be the town, pretty much.
It must be a riot here on a Saturday night.
Driving back from a visit to Tuscon, my tiny denim skirt and a thin t-shirt with no bra was fine for driving. I hadn’t expected to be out of the car any longer than it took to buy gas, why worry? That was way back when I still thought I could buy gas.
The little diner looked like most of my available options. I parked out front. In the dusty lot were two cars, in no better shape than my little brown Honda, and a motorcycle.
I could get a coffee and sit. Take a rest from driving. Then some miraculous idea would pop into my head out of nowhere. I knew better than to try and think more than a few minutes ahead. Life with Larry had me primed for emergencies.
Over the door a little bell jingled as I stepped in. The young hottie who was serving didn’t seem to mind one bit how I was dressed.
He was wiry and trim, about nineteen, with his hair razored into tribal swirls to match the ink on his arms and his neck. His skin was tanned and smooth. The little white apron looked out of place, hanging below his lean, bare midriff, but not in a bad way.
He watched as I took a seat facing the window.
His rolling gate brought him slowly to my table and I looked a second time to check; nope, the little apron looked fine as his big thighs slid behind it.
“Hi,” he said, pencil and pad in hand, “I’m Beanie,” he grinned a little as he jabbed the pencil at a name tag on his broad chest. I carried on watching his midriff. Make sure nothing bad happened to it, you know?
His soft gray eyes lit when I lifted mine. “Coffee,” I said.
A tight smile waved through his lips. As he walked away I turned to watch his ass. He was too young for me. I thought probably I ought to tell that to myself a couple of times.
I watched the traffic, what there was of it. A truck rumbled by every few minutes. Occasionally a car. A biker on a big, black Harley ducked his head to peer through black shades into the diner as he thundered past. I guessed he was Beanie’s buddy.
The bike out front was likely Beanie’s, too, then. I was getting to feel right at home. Just as well, since I probably couldn’t call anyplace else home, not just right then.
So finally, Larry had maxed out my card, busted our cell contract and probably made a moonlight dash from our little apartment in Boulder Colorado. The last two months, I knew there was something off about him saying, “I’ll take the rent. Give me the cash and I’ll drop it by to Mrs Oakham.”
I guess I knew but I didn’t want to believe it. Whether that was because I didn’t want to believe he really was such a slimeball, or if I simply didn’t want to accept the fact that my own judgment was so messed up. We all just believe what we need to believe. Hold on to it until something drags it away from us.
When I met Larry, I was such an innocent.
That jerk. It wasn’t the rough treatment that I minded so much. I’m a grown up, you know? What I hated was him being a dick about it. Daddy used to hand out ‘slaps’ as regular reminders of something. I don’t remember what.
Daddy didn’t hover, dithering, holding himself back. He didn’t lash out and then collapse in tears, crying that he didn’t mean it and it wouldn’t ever happen again. When Daddy hit you, he meant it and you knew it.
Aside from the nails on chalkboard whine of a man demeaning himself, you can’t argue or discuss with someone who’s constantly swearing they didn’t mean it and they’ll never do it again. They make themselves the victim.
Asshole.
When I asked for a refill, Beanie brought the pot. He lowered his voice to say, “I’m only supposed to refill you with a food order.” Cute. There was nobody out here to hear him but me.
I watched the traffic some more. I’d have to find a payphone. Call Jamie in Tuscon. Listen to her saying, “I’m not going to say I told you so…” But then what, ask her to drive out here, Oh, and could you bring some money, please? Else, what, call Daddy? NO way.
“I got an order of scrambled with a stack.” He was there again, “I must have got it wrong. Don’t suppose you’d like them, would you? They ain’t going nowhere.” I looked up at Beanie. I thought, There’s nobody else here, Beanie. Who could they have been for?
I told him, “I’m too old for you, Beanie.”
He looked me over, slowly, “Oh, no, ma’am.” He grinned, “No, you’re not.” So innocent.
“See? You don’t know what I mean when I say that I’m too old for you. You think I’m just talking about the difference in our ages.” I watched the clouds drift over his pretty face. “I mean that I’d burn you up.”
There was a sigh under his voice as he left, “You have no idea how mu
ch I’d like that, ma’am.”
I thought, I do, Beanie, I really do. I know how much you think you’d love it. And I know what it could really do to you.
I swallowed my pride and gratefully scarfed down the eggs, waffles and bacon with hash browns on the side. Nothing ever cheers you quite like diner food.
While I was eating, the Harley crackled by, going the other way. Slower this time. And the rider looked into the diner window more attentively.
I thought about Beanie. About the lithe, wiry weight of him, flowing like lava. He moved like a dancer. All that young, sensual sinew, toned and supple under his lightly tanned skin. I watched the flashes of his athlete’s girdle, the iliac furrow. Aphrodite’s handles. They’re a real trigger for me, those two little clefts, pointing the way.
Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) Page 22