Coyle was feeling generous – that’s why he wouldn’t object to sharing his bourbon with me, or his woman with Rooker and Bowser.
I looked up, and tried to counter with: “You want some?”
Christi’s eyes burned back at me. I could see she had been offended. Not really surprising. The only things people ever really get offended by are the things with an element of truth to them.
The slender blond shuffled over to the table, and reached down to snatch the bottle of bourbon from me.
As she lifted it to her mouth, the blanket fell from her shoulders – and in her anger, she made no effort to snatch it back up.
Christi with-no-last-name lifted the bottle of bourbon to her lips, and gulped down two inches of it with the same unabashed enthusiasm as she’d swallowed Bowser’s cum not fifteen minutes earlier.
Not that I was thinking of that.
Christi was now standing just a foot in front of me, absolutely naked – and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She was slender, and pale. With a heart-shaped ass, and a beautiful curve to her back, and those pert, pierced breasts, she had one of the most stunning bodies I’d ever seen.
And it was a canvas. In addition to the gleaming bar-bells through her nipples, and the ‘Lucky You’ tattoo above her pussy, Christi’s body was canvassed in tattoos.
A dragon curled around her hip. A Sailor Jerry pinup adorned her shoulder blade. One arm was covered in an elegant sleeve of tattoos, while the other was painted like a sketchbook of words and numbers.
Once again, she was a living contradiction. Innocence, wrapped in wickedness.
Wiping her lips, Christi put down the bottle, and growled: “Like what you see?”
I didn’t respond.
I mean, I clearly did. Christi was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen – and I was hard as a rock inside my shorts.
But I didn’t say anything to her, and that was probably why she countered with a snort:
“I guess you don’t.” She turned away from me with a snarl, and started walking towards the back of the trailer. I watched her ass as she walked away… God, it was beautiful.
At the door to the tiny trailer shower, Christi paused, and turned to me.
With an angry snarl, she snapped: “You know what? I don’t need your disapproval.” She stood there, unabashedly naked, and growled: “I know you probably think I’m a slut, or a whore… But I do what I do to survive, you understand?”
She shook her pretty head.
“It’s easy for you to judge me, but you don’t even know me.”
My voice cracked, as I opened my mouth.
“I’m not judging you,” I hissed.
Christi paused, standing there like a tattooed goddess.
“I’m not judging you,” I repeated. “And I don’t think you’re a slut, or a whore.” I snorted, and picked up the shot of whiskey I’d poured. Slinging the burning liquor down my throat, I finally confessed: “In fact, I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
That seemed to hit Christi like a slap in the face. She visibly reeled when she heard that.
I slammed the empty glass down on the table, and refilled it.
“I ain’t judging you,” I repeated for the third time – and this time, I couldn’t even make eye-contact with her. “Shit, you join the Knuckleheads, and it’s a given you’re going to do a lot of shit you ain’t proud of.”
I raised my eyes.
I found myself staring into her beautiful hazel gaze.
“We’re all out here doin’ what we have to, to survive.” Lifting the refilled glass, I knocked it back, and confessed: “The price you have to pay is different to mine, is all.”
Christi stood there, watching me, processing what I’d just said.
And then she did something unexpected.
Opening the door to the trailer bathroom, she pulled out a silk robe, and slipped it over her slender shoulders.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel comfortable being naked in front of me.
That told me a lot. When you don’t care about somebody’s opinion, you’d bare your body as easily as your soul. But the moment I’d told her what I had, the atmosphere between us had changed.
I opened my mouth to mention it – but never got a chance to speak.
Suddenly the door of the trailer crashed open, and Coyle came staggering in, with Bertha close behind.
The towering biker was clearly swilling with whiskey, and in a jubilant mood. He grinned when he saw me, roaring: “Recon, y’old sonofabitch.”
He pointed to the bottle of Bib & Tucker, sitting on the table in front of me. “See you’ve been helping yourself to my property…”
I stiffened when I heard him say that. Rumor had it that Coyle had murdered people for less than a bottle of whiskey.
“…but that’s fine, son.”
My shoulders slumped in relief.
“In fact,” Coyle staggered into the trailer, and laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, “I’m surprised you didn’t help yourself to her, while you were at it.”
He jerked a thumb towards Christi, standing at the other end of the trailer.
“Seriously, son,” Coyle’s fingers dug painfully into my shoulder. “She gives the best blowjobs I’ve ever had… And that pussy?” He smacked his lips. “It’s just like Rooker said. Sweet and hot, like apple pie.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. But Coyle didn’t seem to take offense.
“I hear you, son,” he responded to my silence. “I ain’t that much of a fan of sloppy seconds either – and those two boys done made a mess of my pretty little princess there.”
He grinned at me, and squeezed my shoulder painfully tight.
“Maybe another time, yeah?”
My voice cracked, and I nodded: “Y-yeah.”
Coyle nodded, satisfied.
Taking a step back, he made it very clear that he intended me to leave.
“Take another shot and give us some privacy, okay?” Coyle punched my shoulder playfully – which, given the size of his goddamn fists, was painful. “We’re gonna wash this little kitten up, and then I’ve got a full pair of balls she can busy herself emptying…” He turned to Christi, and grinned: “Ain’t that right?”
Christi looked away from me – she could even make eye contact.
“Y-yes,” she told Coyle, as the biker grinned at her wolfishly. “I-I’ll do that for you, daddy.”
“Good girl,” Coyle grinned – and then he turned to me, and said good-naturedly: “Scram.”
So I grabbed that shot of whiskey he’d promised me, and stumbled down the steps out of the trailer, into the warm, dark night.
Chapter Five
Christi
My stomach lurched as I watched Recon swing open the door to the trailer, and then step out into the night.
He was gone.
And that left me alone with Coyle, and Bertha.
Any other day? I’d have been fine with that. Shit, that had been my life for these past few months. But suddenly, things were different.
Those few moments, alone with Recon?
I did something unspeakable. More intimate than any of the sexual acts I’d been coaxed into, ever since I joined this gang.
I made a connection. A real, human connection.
Just for a second – but it was searing.
And now, after months of desperately searching for solitude, I felt very, very alone.
Even with Coyle and Bertha in the room.
“Okay, Kitten,” Coyle was unzipping his leather jacket, and peeling it off his massive shoulders. “Why don’t you hop up into that shower, and then come and join us in bed?”
The jacket was slung across the back of a chair. His tattered t-shirt followed – revealing his slab-like body. Huge shoulders. Massive biceps. His immense, muscular body was decorated in a patchwork of tattoos and scars.
Bertha turned to me, as I watched Coyle undress.
/> “Get in the shower,” she snapped. “You’ll get plenty of time to gawk afterwards.”
I nodded, and slunk into the tiny shower cubicle.
As the door shut behind me, I sunk against the cold Formica wall and shivered.
God, what was happening to me?
It had taken me months to build up this shell. To retreat inside myself, to protect what was left of my heart from the cruel reality I’d been forced into.
I’d been immune from it all. I’d submitted myself to the most debased acts, with men I hardly knew, all for the entertainment of that big, cruel man outside the shower door…
…and I’d been fine with all of it. Because I’d been alone, and I’d clung to that solitude like a life preserver in a churning ocean.
But in just one moment – the moment Recon had looked across the room at me and said: “I don’t judge you.”
That had ruined me.
I felt tears well up in my eyes.
I was fucked.
I couldn’t shut myself down like I had before. I suddenly felt. And that meant what I had to do just to survive suddenly became that much harder to stomach.
Suddenly, there was a hammering on the shower door.
“Hey!” It was Bertha, with that venom in her voice she reserved for whenever Coyle was out of earshot. “What are you doing in there, slut?”
The shower door opened, and Bertha stood framed in the doorway.
She looked like Brigitte Nielson, although even more hardened and leathery, if that’s possible. Six feet or more of towering blond muscle – and an intensity to her icy blue eyes that was frankly terrifying.
“You’re not even in the shower, yet?”
Bertha stepped into the little shower room – which had been cramped enough even when it was just me in there.
She lifted a big hand, and curled it around my throat.
Then, slam.
She pinned me against the rattling Formica wall.
“Listen to me, you dumb little slut,” Bertha hissed, her face an inch from mine. “Coyle’s in the back of the trailer, with all twelve inches standing to attention. Now you wash your slutty little ass up and get in there to earn your keep, or I swear to god I’ll beat you like a piñata, you understand?”
I could barely speak, with her fingers pressing into my windpipe.
“Y-yes,” I croaked.
“Good,” Bertha hissed, flecking my face with spittle. “And wash up good. Coyle doesn’t want another man’s cum on his dick, you understand?”
I struggled to nod.
“Five minutes, slut,” Bertha hissed, and then she slapped me, hard, in the face.
A moment later, she was gone – leaving me gasping for breath in the shower, trembling and terrified.
I cranked on the water, and stepped beneath the icy deluge to wash up.
***
A few moments later, I stepped into the bedroom at the back of the trailer, with my hair wet and limp around my shoulders, and my pale body covered in goosebumps.
Bertha and Coyle were lounging back in the bed, both of them totally naked.
It was a sight to behold.
Coyle was like a hairless bear, with his massive chest, beefy arms and huge, muscular legs. From between his burly thighs reared his cock – twelve inches of wrist-thick dick that I’d become intimately familiar with over the course of the last few months.
And beside him, lay Bertha.
She would have been beautiful, once – but now her tanned skin was leathery, and her tattoos were faded. Her big, silicon breasts were more intimidating, than sexy, and her body was more muscular than lean.
Even her pussy was intimidating. It was waxed bare, like mine, but she had a clitoris so large and prominent that it was almost like a tiny cock.
“Hello, Kitten,” Coyle purred, as I stepped nervously into the bedroom. “Why don’t you come over here?”
He scratched his heavy, egg-sized balls.
“I’ve got one hell of a load saved up, and watching those two boys tag-team with you got me all hot and bothered.”
I nodded, and crawled naked onto the bed.
This much I was familiar with, and blissfully I was able to disassociate myself from what was going on. I stopped thinking with my brain, and focused on my body instead – the delicious tingling sensation of erotic anticipation, as I crawled into bed with these two intimidating, naked people.
“That’s a good girl,” Coyle nodded, as he watched me crawl between his legs. “You’re such a good little kitten.”
I flopped down, lying on my stomach between his legs. Reaching up, I curled my fingers around his massive cock, and started to gently stroke it.
“Awww,” Coyle flopped his head back on the pillow. “That’s the stuff.” He groaned, reaching down to stroke my hair. “What a good little mouth you have, pet.”
And to prove that, I stretched my lips wide, and engulfed the head of his cock with them.
“Fuuuck,” Coyle groaned, in gratitude.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on the sensations. The big, hard cock in my mouth. The way it throbbed, as I swirled my tongue around the swollen tip.
I massaged Coyle’s big, heavy balls with one hand, and stroked his shaft with the other – occasionally pulling his spit-slick cock from my mouth, so I could tongue his balls in the way I knew he liked.
“Fuuuuck,” Coyle groaned, lounging on the bed. “You taught her well, Bertha. This one sucks cock like nobody else.”
My cheeks burned red as I heard that.
Bertha had, literally, ‘taught’ me to suck cock when I’d first arrived. I was a trembling, innocent college girl back then – on the run, and looking for a place to hide. Coyle offered me the protection I’d sought – but there was a price attached to it.
In my first weeks on the road with the Knuckleheads, I’d paid that price each and every night. Bertha had whipped me into shape – sometimes literally – and taught me all the ‘skills’ I’d need to survive as one of Coyle’s playthings.
There’d been plenty of eager male volunteers to practice on, and Bertha always looming overhead to crack my ass or slap my cheek if I didn’t do a good enough job.
“Oh, fuuuck,” Coyle groaned in appreciation, as I bathed his cock with my tongue. Clearly all those lessons had paid off. Coyle was the most appreciative man I’d ever given a blowjob to.
As I bobbed my head in his lap, swirling my tongue and massaging his balls, I felt the bed creak, as Bertha clambered up onto her hands and knees.
I tensed up as I felt her move. That big, sadistic bitch was unpredictable. I didn’t know what she’d get up to. One time, she’d challenged me to suck a biker’s cock while using her belt on my bare ass – and hitting me twice if the lucky recipient of my oral skills complained.
But, tonight, Bertha wasn’t feeling sadistic – or, at least, she’d been instructed not to be.
As I lay flat on the bed, she crawled on top of me – her hot, lean body skin-to-skin with mine.
I squeezed shut my eyes, and focused on sucking and pleasuring Coyle’s straining cock. As I did so, I felt the sharp points of Bertha’s nipples against my back – tracing a path down my spine as she crawled lower and lower.
Suddenly, I felt her hot breath on my bare ass.
“Maybe in a week or so,” Coyle groaned, as he stroked my hair, “we’ll take some time off in Vegas, and I can finally pop that cherry of yours.”
My ‘cherry.’ He was referring to my ass. Out of all the despicable things he’d made me do during my time with the Knuckleheads, the one part of my body that remained untouched – virginal, even – was my asshole.
“Yeah,” Coyle groaned. “I want to pop your cherry, baby girl. But we’ll do it right. In a hotel room, and take our time.”
Even as he said that, I stiffened – feeling Bertha’s big hands on the cheeks of my ass.
She was spreading them apart – and I suddenly felt her hot breath between my cheeks.
&nb
sp; “I’ve been eyin’ that tight little tush of yours every time I’ve fucked you,” Coyle groaned, as I sucked and slurped on his cock. “Wonderin’ if my big ol’ dick would even be able to squeeze in there.”
And then I felt it – the warm, wet roughness of Bertha’s tongue, as she pressed her nose between the cheeks of my ass, and actually licked my butthole.
“I’ve bust a few girls wide open rushin’ it in the past,” he confessed. “That’s why Bertha’s gonna help, and we’re going to do it right.”
I squeezed shut my eyes, and groaned, as I felt Bertha’s tongue roll up into a little point, and prod gently against my ass.
Oh, God…. I was squirming on the sheets.
I tried to focus on sucking Coyle’s big dick, but it was difficult. Bertha’s tongue was swirling around my asshole – sometimes poking in, to open up my ass. At the same time, I felt her fingers press against the glistening lips of my pussy… and suddenly sink inside.
Oh, fuuuuck.
Her calloused thumb swirled against my clitoris. Two of her fingers massaged my g-spot. All the while, she tongue-fucked my ass, which is something nobody had ever done to me before…
“That’s a good girl,” Coyle nodded, watching with satisfaction. “On the night, your ass is going to be so warm, and wet, and ready, you could take a line of dicks without even a whimper.”
He grinned wolfishly.
“And maybe that’s what we’ll serve up as an encore…”
I squeezed shut my eyes, and groaned at the thought.
I should have been disgusted… but Bertha was pleasuring me in so many ways, that it was impossible to differentiate between the terrible fantasy, and the delicious sensations of reality.
“One after the other,” Coyle was murmuring, as he stroked my head. “All those dicks, up your ass. Wonder how many you could take before you cry ‘uncle.’?”
Oh, fuuuck…. With my free hand, I clawed at the sheets, and squirmed my hips uselessly.
“You know, they do say cum is the best lube for anal sex…”
…and that was more than I could take.
Pulling Coyle’s cock from my mouth, I took a shuddering, gasping breath of air – and came, right on Bertha’s tongue and fingers.
No Way Out Page 3