by Teagan Kade
I move against him, my hips gyrating and sucking his member in. “Fuck me,” I plead, eyes pressed tight together to stave off my impending orgasm.
The floorboards whine under my knees as I’m hammered, Deacon’s giant cock sluicing in and out of my open pussy and sending bolts of electricity jumping from the polar ends of my body.
My mouth opens as wide as it will go, jaw strained, my scalp pulling with the hair in his hand.
An idea strikes me, something I’ve always wanted to try but never had the trust for with any previous partner.
“My ass,” I manage to stammer. “Put it in my ass.”
A wet thumb presses against the tight cherry of my anus and pushes inside. I’m flooded again with fresh, powerful arousal.
The thumb removed, Deacon pulls out of my pussy and presses the head of his cock against my ass, shifting high above me before drilling downwards.
I’ve never felt anything like it, a loud and lengthy moan leaving my mouth as his prick easily slides past the hot grip of my sphincter and deep into my ass. It’s incredible, a feeling of fulfilment beyond any I have known, the taboo and sudden act taking me by surprise.
He grunts at my tightness, drawing out before plunging down again deeper still, my mouth locked open in a silent ring.
His cock is in your ass.
The thought pushes me over the edge.
My head floats. I’m starved of oxygen. A sudden explosion of energy snaps my spine. I feel like I’m going to be broken in two it’s so powerful, barely managing to keep my jaw open as my entire body draws tight and convulses, the climax so powerful all I can see are dots, fissures of light, a strange ringing sound in my ears.
My ass grabs at the hard cock inside it, squeezing and releasing out of my control. Deacon lets go of my hair and crushes himself against me, his release flowing hot and fast.
When he pulls away I collapse to the floor, completely spent. He has to carry me to the shower, hold me in position like an invalid while he soaps and cleans my body.
Naked, dry, I seat myself on the edge of his bed. He lies beside me, cock flat against his chest.
“You look exhausted,” I note.
He lifts himself onto his elbows and I’m struck with a sudden burst of energy.
I swing myself over him, settle into his lap. He’s firm again. I can tell by the way he presses against me. He’s hard as iron as I rock back and forth.
He leans forward and sucks a nipple into his mouth, sucking until it’s a tight bud. His cock swells against my pussy as he does so. I rock up and test its give with the cum-slick flesh already so sensitive there.
I reach down and position him at my hole, settling onto my knees as his cock sinks deep inside me once more.
He continues to suck even as I press my tongue into his ear. He shifts my hips and I take him deeper and deeper until I feel his cock slippery and thick in my most private parts.
“Can you come inside me, or are you all out?” I question.
He laughs. “For you, baby, I’m never out.”
He lifts me easily, cradling my head as he lays me onto the bed, the mattress firm under my back.
His next thrust comes so forcefully I slide halfway up the bed. I lift my hips and he powers into me again, grunting, relentless, filling me with a violent, desperate need I have never experienced before.
We collide again, over and over, his fingers slipping to grasp the flesh of my hips, holding me still as he drives into me with a series of hard, bruising thrusts.
“Deacon,” I moan. I spread my knees as wide as I’m able. I want so desperately to feel his cum shooting deep into my pussy, pulsing at the end of me. I want that deeper, secondary connection. I need it more than I’ve needed anything.
I manage to flip us over and take hold of his shoulders, bearing down on his dick with my full weight. He thrusts upwards when the connection is lost, jerking in frantic desperation to find his next release.
I bear down on his cock, plunge myself up and down, taking as much of him as I possibly can with each stroke until the soft down of his balls brush against my freshly fucked asshole. It’s this small sensation that’s my undoing.
My climax hits me as I’m headed down, he kicks back up into me, tight and tense.
He comes and I feel it—a warm gush.
My pussy grips and releases him, drinks his cock down to its very last drop, the fresh cum adding to the orgasm before and the countless orgasms to come, my hair as sweat-slicked and wet as the space between my legs, my mouth stuck in a perpetual oval.
We spasm one last time together, a chill, his eyes wide and wondrous looking up to me before I stand on shaky legs on the bed. I stand above him panting, my hair tangled and messy, my sex splayed open. “Was that Hollywood enough for you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
DEACON
Razor arrived home late, but not before Lux and I made good use of the claw bath down the back. She even managed to proposition me in the middle of night, the two of us trying to keep our voices down for once, screwing like a couple of horny teenagers.
The storm never arrived, the sun’s up and day is looking to be a stunner. It feels strange to be sitting at the breakfast table without Bo, but, as they say, life goes on.
Lux is tucking into the bacon. I like that. I like a girl who eats. “They say this low that’s coming is once in a century.”
I look to Razor. “Do they?”
She’s clearly excited. “What do you think? Will Shipstern be big?”
I cut my toast down the middle. “It will be big, huge, if you can handle it.”
“Oh, I can handle it,” she winks.
“We’ve trained for this. You want to do your pop proud and we’re going to make it happen. After that, we make arrangements to get out of Finke, start over again.”
“What about Bo? You’re not worried, after…” says Razor, busy shoveling in a forkful of egg. I cut him a ‘shut the fuck up.’
Lux shakes her head, popping more bacon in her mouth, her tongue coming up and tucking it inside. “I know you guys have my back.”
I straighten up. “Don’t give me an excuse to do mouth-to-mouth on you again.”
A vision of her sucking my cock wipes everything away, the way her lips closed around the head, tongue lashing my glans. I’ve had blowjobs before, but that…
“What about you, Razor?” she says. “You ever get scared out there?”
He laughs. “I’m the fucking king of the ocean, baby, King fucking Triton.”
“Where’s your trident then?”
He holds up three fingers spanned out in ‘the shocker.’ “Two for the pink, one for the stink.”
I shake my head. “You are a fucking disgrace.”
Razor goes back to eating his breakfast. “I won’t argue with that, but given all the rumpy-pumpy I’ve heard coming from you two lately, I don’t think you can talk. I mean, Jesus, do you know how hard it is to find ear plugs in this town?”
I exchange a look with Lux. Perhaps we have been a little loud lately. I address Razor. “There’s no one in town that’s caught your eye? I bet Sarah could do with a good roll in the hay.”
Razor chokes on his food, spluttering it out and coughing. “No. Just no.”
There’s a loud knock on the door.
Razor stands and walks to the curtain beside it, pulling it aside and looking out. “Speak of the devil.”
He opens it. “Sarah, what a surprise.”
“Deacon here?”
“Aw, thought you were looking for me, hot stuff.”
I head to the door. “Sarah? What is it?”
“You’ve got trouble, Deacon.”
“Trouble?” I question.
“A group of bikers showed up this morning from up north, bad eggs, colors and all. They came asking about you.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Not a damn thing, of course. Said I didn’t know anyone fitting the description, but I can’t guarantee oth
ers around here will be so willing to hide your identity. Best thing for you boys is to leave right now. I don’t know what kind of shit you’re mixed up in and, frankly, I don’t care, but we can’t have a war being waged in the middle of town.”
“How many?”
“Three, maybe.”
That’s not so bad. We could handle that. I place my hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Sarah, truly.”
“Any time. Lux with you?”
Lux pipes up from the table. “Hi, Sarah.”
She turns her attention back to me. “You make sure nothing happens to her, you hear. If it does, I’ll take great pleasure cutting off that famous cock of yours.”
“I bet.”
“Be safe.”
“We will.”
The door closes and I look to Razor. “It’s time. Get the gear.”
*
Razor dumps the stash on the breakfast table.
Lux looks on stunned. “Holy shit. What are you guys gearing up for? Armageddon?”
I pass over a Glock to her. “Here, take this.”
She picks up a mag and slots it in. I wonder if she feels comfortable holding a gun again.
“You ever use one, on the job?” I query.
Her cobalt eyes flick up to me. “No, funnily enough. Never. You really think this is necessary?”
I check the sight on a rifle, Razor busy stuffing his pockets with clips and ammo. “There’s a small town about an hour away, Port Arthur. There was a massacre there back in the nineties. A solo gunman killed thirty-five people. I’m not about to let another one happen on my watch. So, we take the fight away from town. We take it to them.”
Razor doesn’t look convinced. “And how do you propose we do that?”
I smile at him. “How do you feel about being the bait for once?”
*
Lux is looking out to the ocean as I come up beside her. A solid mass of black is building out on the horizon.
“Are you sure about this?” she says.
I check the rifle again, must be about the hundredth time I’ve done so now. “No, but we’re out of options. The bikers I fucked over in Millertown have no doubt sent a local Australian chapter to take care of me, but they won’t be expecting you.”
We’re high up on the cliffs a mile or so out of town. There’s a series of concrete battlements up here from the Second World War, a long bunker we’ll use to draw them in. The invasion never came back in the 1940s, but it will today.
I steel myself. This is it.
I hear something approaching in the distance. Fuck, the plan was to have Razor wait at home, lure them out here on his bike, but this is way too quick.
I pull Lux close. “We haven’t got much time. Can you hide up in the scrub to the right there, keep an eye on us?”
She holds the gun with both hands. “Okay.”
“Any trouble, you flank them, come in from the back. Yes? If we’re in danger, you pull that fucking trigger. Don’t think twice. Okay?”
“Yes.” She looks nervous, but I have a sense she’ll be okay. She’s trained for this, but even so, I don’t want her in the bunker where things could go pear-shaped. If she’s up in the scrub she’s at least got a chance of getting away.
I check the hill, but there’s no sign of Razor yet.
I want to kiss Lux, tell her everything will be okay, but I wave her on towards the scrub. I want to get her to safety as soon as possible.
When she’s gone, I head into the bunker. Inside, it’s damp and cool. Parts of the walls have decayed into holes, only concrete remaining, but there’s still only a single point of entry, one door at the front. They’ll be forced to come in single file through the bottleneck. That’s how we’ll take them down. It’s not the greatest plan, but my head’s a mess, a fucking blurry mish-mash of thoughts and emotion.
The sound of bikes lifts in the distance.
I move to what used to be one of the front windows and watch a sedan and two bikes swing down the road, one of them Razor’s, but it’s not Razor who’s on it.
He wasn’t quick enough.
They have him.
Fuck.
My grand plan is lost.
I retreat back into the center of the bunker, hear voices outside, a muffled grunting that has to be Razor.
Lux. Fuck. I can’t worry about her as well.
Razor’s the first one in, the others following behind his back.
It’s not good. He’s got duct tape over this mouth, forehead dripping blood, his right eye puffy and swollen. His hands are cable tied together behind his back.
The bikers fan out, weapons raised. There are three of them, just like Sarah said—a big guy in a blue wife-beater, a skinny cracker type, and another guy with his head shaved and denim jacket on. They’re locals, but there’s no doubting they’re here on behalf of my friends in Millertown.
The big one says as much when he introduces himself. “Well, well. What a fine little gathering we have here, matey. Deacon, is it now?”
I keep quiet, calm.
“How about you start by dropping those weapons of yours,” the big one continues.
I lift the rifle a little higher. “Like fucking hell.”
I want to look outside, to check on Lux, but I don’t want to give her position away either. The skinny one puts a gun to Razor’s head. “Better drop that boom-stick, sunny-boy, unless you want your brother’s brains all over the floor.”
I try to buy time. “Why are you looking for me? What do you want?”
The big one laughs. “You know full well why we’re here, son. You think this is some Point Break bullshit you’re playing at here, that someone wouldn’t clue onto you eventually? Then your dipshit brother had to get all gobbled up by a great white. Bad news, but it did reach our friends in the US, which is, ding ding, why we’re here.”
Razor blinks at me with one eye. If he’s trying to tell me something, it’s not making sense.
I grit my teeth, keeping the gun trained on the big one. “I’ll ask again. What do you want?”
He raises his voice. “I already said it once. I won’t say it again. Drop that fucking weapon. Do that and your brother here will go free. He won’t be harmed. You have my word.”
“Your word?” I laugh. “And that’s supposed to mean something?”
“Do it.”
I’ve got no choice.
I keep my eyes on Razor, lowering the rifle to the floor.
“Joey,” calls the big one, “sweep that shit up”.
The skinny guy comes forward, gun trained, and collects my rifle, tossing it into the corner.
The big one shoves Razor towards me. I push him behind me. “What now?”
I’m worried about the skinny guy with the sawn-off. He looks twitchy, like he’s on something. All he’d have to do is pull that trigger and we’d both be halved.
I put my hands up. “Easy now.”
The big guy takes a step forward. “You know, I don’t usually volunteer for mop-up duty like this, but you,” he wags his finger, “you fucking pig. You deserve special treatment”.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Our brothers in the States said you might be a little feisty, but this isn’t the States. We know all about handling pests here in Australia.”
“I don’t have the fucking money,” I shout.
The big one nods. “Yes. Our Yankee brothers told us as much, said your deputy friend gave up all the goss before they fucked him up, said you took fucking pictures, fucking laughed while the money burned. Is that right, Damien, Deacon, whatever the fuck your name is, or maybe, just maybe, you didn’t burn it at all.”
I point. “You mean the pictures over on the windowsill there?”
The big one looks sideways, sees the Polaroids sitting on the window ledge. He motions for the third guy to go get them.
I honestly can’t believe I’ve kept them all this time, but I knew one day I might need a record of what went down, proof that dirty cash w
ent up in smoke. It’s all there—close-ups of the serial numbers, shots of the entire cube of money in fucking flames.
The big guy flicks through them, pockets each as he does so. “Motherfucker, and here I was hoping you’d been smart, that we could send you out easy, but I guess that ship’s sailed. Now you and your brothers are in for a whole world of hurt.” He lifts his gun, lines it up.
There’s a gunshot outside.
A hole opens up in the side of the skinny guy’s head. He gurgles and blubbers blood, the shotgun wavering. I turn and grab Razor, diving us sideways as it fires, the pellets hammering the wall behind us, dust raining over my head.
I look up and see Lux fly past the window outside. She stands in the doorway to the bunker behind the two bikers left, gun raised. “Drop them.”
They both turn, but the big guy’s still got his gun. He keeps it trained on us, the other guy with his rifle pointed at Lux.
The big one kicks the skinny guy on the floor, but he’s gone. “Joey? Joey?!”
I hate to tell him, but Joey ain’t coming back from a gunshot to the head.
I can see Lux breathing hard, but she’s keeping her cool. “I said fucking drop your weapons now.”
The two bikers stand back to back.
“We ain’t doing shit, love,” laughs the big guy. “It’s two on one. I bet a fine piece of ass like you knows all about that, don’t you?”
“Three on two,” I correct, even though I know Razor’s not going to be much help tied up.
“Ah,” the big guy laughs, “but we’ve got all the guns. You think your little girlfriend here is fast enough to get off two rounds before she’s cut down? I don’t fucking think so.”
My fists are clenched tight. I look to Lux. She’s ready, braced to fire, but it would mean suicide for one of us, maybe her. I’m not about to let that happen.
“Why don’t you just go?” I offer. “There doesn’t have to be any more bloodshed.”
The big one squeezes his revolver tighter. “Bullshit, Sherriff. If I don’t box up your head and airmail it over, it’ll be mine they come looking for next.”
This has gone on long enough. I put up my hands. “Fine. Take me and leave the others out of it.”
The two goons exchange a look.
It’s all the distraction Lux needs. ‘Down’, she mouths to me, firing once, the guy with the rifle’s head snapping back.