Tasting Candy

by Candy Quinn

  In retaliation, those big, beautifully strong hands grasped my breast and my hip. His thumb worked around my clit, teasing in just the right manner as his other other hand pinched and twisted my nipple lightly, torturing me with pleasure as he continued that perfect thrusting without missing a beat, without marring that flawless tempo.

  But he moaned aloud, his dick swelling, the pleasure I was giving him taking a toll despite his own masterful efforts.

  I tried to use my newly freed hands to bat him off, but it wasn’t enough. Even as I childishly fought at him, I could feel myself grow closer to that brink, and I wasn’t sure what I could do to stave that off.

  Worse, my thoughts were growing fuzzy and I started to forget even why I wanted to fight him off.

  What was at stake.

  Instead I was awash in the rising tempo of his pounding, thrusting into me harder, making me and the whole massive bed quake and cry out. It was like being caught in a tidal wave, being crashed and beaten upon the shore mercilessly as he claimed me there atop his bed. This was the best day of his life, the pinnacle of his achievement, and making me cum upon his dick was his new, final victory for the day. A celebration of his triumph as he claimed the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on, making me squirm and moan and scream out in pleasure from the motions of his gloriously muscled body.

  He’d won the bet.

  And I didn’t even care.

  I was too swept up in the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, and my screams were echoing all around us as he held me there. It wasn’t until my warm juices flooded his cock that I was able to think at all, and even then, it was only about how much I wanted more.

  More of him. More of his cock.

  The slaps of his body striking mine grew wetter as my slick honey coated his groin and balls, and his victory was celebrated in the way he desired most. With a loud moan and an unleashing of all that pent up desire.

  He must’ve been mere moments from caving himself, and with that flood of my climax coating him he just let go. His cock pulsated, throbbed thickly as he hammered into me erratically, letting loose his rich, creamy seed, flooding my fertile depths with his virility.

  I’d lost the bet, and there he was, this gorgeous, powerful, rich man pumping me full of his seed, unprotected and heedless, hammering each spurt deep inside me until he hilted himself in, his dick twitching on its own as he emptied his balls to the last drop inside me.

  It took us long moments to come down off our highs, panting for breath and trying to regain some control of our minds, but all the while my hands roamed over his back. We were sticky, and spent, but I wanted to remember the moment, and how he felt against me.

  His broad chest swelled with each breath, and slowly his eyes opened again to gaze down at me. He’d won, spectacularly. But he held me in his arms, never gloated, but kissed me deeply, lovingly.

  He eventually pulled from me after a long time in his arms, much to my sadness, but gathered a warm, damp cloth and cupped my cum-dripping cunt. He lifted his covers and carried me inside them, to hold me and caress me longer.

  “Double or nothing,” he dared me to bet again, his smile a wry, devious thing as I felt his cock throb back to full mast against my body.

  I lost that one too.

  And it was the last I saw him.

  It was a glorious night with him. One I’ll never forget. Especially since that night a couple months ago, I’ve learned he left me with more than the twenty grand he promised me for my time.

  I was due up for a stage show again soon, but I was drawn to the sight of my tummy in the change room mirror. Nobody had yet noticed it, except me that was. But my tummy was a bit swollen. And the pregnancy tests all said the same. I was knocked up.

  I went to his place to tell him, but he had moved, true to his word. Off to some gorgeous, billionaire’s penthouse I guess.

  I had to get to work again, as I heard my song begin to play. I had to prepare to care for a new person someday, after all.

  But as I strut out there, trying to well up all my confidence, I see him. Back in his same spot, he paid the stripper at his side and she left him. His eyes are on me, that confident smile back on his face.

  I lick my lips, a surge of emotions combatting within me. Anger that he felt he could just walk back into my life, months later, without having said a word. Annoyance, that his leaving me had hurt so bad.

  And relief. Relief to see his gorgeous face once more, in person. I’d been trying to find out more about him since he left, but he’d gone quiet after making that deal, and I’m ashamed to admit how often I found myself staring at his picture from the day he met me, wondering what’d gone wrong.

  But I suck that feeling down, and just focus it all into anger as I strut over to him. My black one-piece suit shows off my cleavage and hides my stomach, and I know I looked hot as hell, and I’m not about to let him walk all over me.

  “Celebrating another big win?”

  “Remains to be seen,” he says with that confident smile on his face. I don’t know what he’s getting at, but I’m determined to not be trampled on, even if he’s been the stuff of my late night fantasies ever since. “Been away, setting up operations for the military,” he explains, “but now I’m back and looking to resolve something that’s been on my mind ever since.”

  He looks me over slowly, sizing me up, and paying a bit of undue attention to my tummy. Does he suspect?

  “I’m not pregnant,” I lie, shrugging my shoulders and flicking my hair over my shoulder. “If that’s what you’re curious about. So don’t worry, I’m not going to be hounding you for child support.”

  He looks disappointed, which I guess means I at least win one round with him.

  Kinda.

  “Well,” he reaches into his stylish, even more expensive blazer, pulling out a small, velvet box. “Up for a bet?” he asks me, looking so serious. “Double or nothing,” he says before slowly opening up the jewelry box, showing off the most ridiculously lavish diamond engagement ring I’ve ever seen. “And this time, if I knock you up, you get the ring to keep too.”

  I don’t know what to make of it, I really don’t. It’s like I just hit my head and went into a coma and am now having the best dream of my life.

  This can’t be reality.

  Reality like this doesn’t happen in a strip club.

  My knees start to shake, and the towering stripper heels aren’t helping me keep my balance, so I hold onto the table.

  “What?” I ask, stupidly.

  He wets his luscious lips slowly, pushing the ring towards me.

  “Come stay with me a while. Join me on my business trips from now on. And…” he shrugs his shoulders, “take our chances together. Maybe we hit it off. And, if you get pregnant along the way… well, then we’ve definitely hit it off.” He smiles at me so charmingly all over again. “If you’re not interested in commitment though… I’ll make it worth your time,” and then his calm, cool front melts before my eyes. “I just want you with me. One way or another.”

  My heart pounds hard in my chest, and I can feel the tears threaten my mascara. I can tell there’s more than a few eyes on us, and this is definitely not my most badass moment.

  But it’s a moment I know I’ll remember ‘til I die.

  “But you left...”

  “Military contract,” he says with a deep sigh, “hush hush. Had to sign a million waivers, go out of communication for a while.” His strong hand reaches beneath the table to grasp my thigh, “But the whole time I was thinking of you. Wished I would’ve asked you to come along, instead of trying to play it cool. A man needs a good woman to make it through life. Something I learned after just one night with you.”

  The tears start falling and I desperately try to swipe them away, but I can’t play it cool anymore either. My arms are around his neck, and my head is in his chest as I hold onto him for dear life.

  He wraps those thick, bulging biceps about me in turn and squeezes me.
r />   “That a yes?” he asks me after a while of holding me quietly, stroking my back in the most reassuring manner possible.

  I nod my head. I take in a deep breath, though, and reach for his hand, bringing it to my stomach. I can’t find the words to speak, but I want him to know.

  I need him to know I’m carrying his baby.

  He’s a smart man, I’ve read all about him online and in the papers. But it takes even him a moment to catch on before his eyes widen and his confident smile returns.

  “I knew it,” he declares in triumph. “I fuckin’ knew it. You’re mine, babe. Never gonna let you go now,” he says, pushing the most passionate kiss to my lips I’ve ever experienced.

  Fertile Sorority

  Book Themes:

  Barely Legal, Breeding, Gangbang, and M/M/M/M/F/F

  Word Count:

  5,812

  The room was dim, and I was all alone, naked, with a video camera ahead of me. The red light blinked, and the voice over the speaker system repeated.

  “I asked if you’re a virgin, Julia. You have to answer or you’ll never be allowed into our sorority.”

  It was my final interview, one they required to join Phi Zeta house, the best sorority on campus, but it was also the hardest. Nothing else had made me feel so... exposed.

  I swallowed, feeling my skin prickle with a kind of electric heat.

  “I am,” I whispered, and the silence around me spoke volumes. I counted my heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

  “Good.”

  “Come on, Julia,” Becky said to me, her smile growing wide. “You have to go through with the hazing or you can’t join the Sorority. It’s the last step you have to do. Just come to the Alpha Chi Sigma party and do whatever I tell you, and you’ll have sisters for life.”

  I wondered how much Becky knew. She was the one who’d been the most supportive, but the idea that she might’ve heard my interview...

  I had to confess everything. Not just that I was a virgin, but that the furthest I’d ever gone was being felt up, and I’d only tried masturbating once and sucked at it, and that I broke up with my boyfriend because I was afraid to give him head.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to — I did. I was just afraid I’d be bad at it and he’d tell everyone. I didn’t want that to be the last thing anyone at school ever heard about me. That I was bad at blow jobs.

  “I’m going,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I was.

  It was a bit like marching to my execution, or at least that’s how my mind was blowing it out of proportion. It was warm for September and I was wearing a simple pink halter dress that showed off my curves but still managed to look chaste. My pink flats matched and were, if I’m being honest, the highest fashion of the season.

  Becky was in this much sexier red dress, her red, curly hair wild, whereas my blonde tresses were straight as anything.

  The fraternity house was massive, old gothic architecture that looked beautiful yet historical, rooted in the past. Though the loud, thumping music that blared out of the building kinda shattered that whole illusion, because I don’t think techno dance music had a lot of history or beauty, it just got the job done of making you dance.

  It wasn’t a super long walk, though it felt like it as I wondered what they’d have me do. I expected drinking, but I’d never done drugs and was kind of worried they’d take it to the next level.

  But I had to get into this sorority. It was a family tradition!

  “Geez, the music’s so loud,” I said to Becky, eyes wide.

  “Oh come on,” she said with a wide smile, tugging at my arm in her slinky cocktail dress that showed off more than I would ever dare, stopping too short at her upper thighs, and going far too low over her ample chest. “It’s a party, you’ll love it!”

  “Yea,” I said, though I didn’t feel entirely certain. Maybe a drink would calm my nerves a little...

  No sooner than we were inside the building though, then one of the sorority sisters was shoving drinks into our hands.

  “Drink up, you two! It’s gonna be one hell of a night,” she said with a bright, enthusiastic smile, as if everyone’s drink status was her responsibility, and maybe it was.

  “Yeah go on,” Becky said to me, sipping her own glass. “It’s wine, not beer, so don’t be shy,” and a simple sip proved her right. It was a girly kind of drink, rather than that disgusting flavour of beer that dominated most parties like this.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” I said and though Becky likely couldn’t hear me over the loud music, she smiled and got my meaning, tapping our plastic cups together and downing the rest of her glass. “I’ll get us another!” she said, leaving me to finish mine in the short span it took for her to get back with more.

  I drank mine back quick, maybe too quick, but I figured anything that sweet couldn’t get me drunk very fast. Besides, I was scared out of my wits about what was going to happen, so I might as well be a bit tipsy. I hadn’t gotten drunk since I got into college, after all, and I was dying for a bit of a buzz.

  I took the second drink, sipping it a bit slower as my eyes moved around the party. There were people everywhere, all of them gorgeous. The frat was filled with jocks, and letterman jackets were everywhere, though some were starting to strip out of them as the temperature started growing warmer with all the dancing bodies.

  My hopefully-soon-to-be-sorority sisters were everywhere. It was a mixer, a bonding between the frat and sorority, and we were apparently real close with this one so I was warned to make a good impression for my sake.

  Out of the crowds one guy in particular seemed to take an interest in me. And I’d be lying if I said the same wasn’t true. First and foremost just because out of all of the guys, this one stood out the most for his sheer size! I took him in as he moved through the crowds to get to me.

  He had to be six and a half feet tall if he was a foot! And he had broad shoulders with a ripped physique, that was easy to see since unlike most of the other fellas he only had on a tight white V-neck shirt. He held in his hand a large mug of beer it seemed, and he smiled down at me, his broad-jawed face so handsome beneath his tied back black hair.

  “You’re lookin’ far too good to be in such a den of wolves,” he said, his voice so rich and deep it carried over the loud din of the music.

  I giggled nervously, licking over my lips and tasting the remnants of the wine.

  “I guess,” I said, smoothing out my pink halter dress over my stomach. I had worried I looked too chaste, so his words were reassuring.

  “You, uh, one of the frat brothers here?”

  He leaned against the support beam beside me, drinking some of his beer as he looked me over so casually.

  “Oh yeah,” he said so simply, running his free hand back over his dark, glossy black hair. “A third year, so I’ve been around the block a few times, unlike this pristine little lily before me,” he remarked so casually, smiling handsomely at me. “How you findin’ it so far? Not overwhelming you, is it?”

  Lying didn’t come easy to me, but I forced a smile to my face and shook my head.

  “No, I mean, it’s a little loud, but it’s fine!” I shouted, bringing a hand to my hair, twirling the blonde lock nervously. “I’m Julia!”

  “Well hello Julia,” he said, extending his own hand to take mine, absolutely eclipsing it. “I’m Raynor,” he said, bending down and giving a kiss to the back of my hand in some playfully gentlemanlike fashion.

  It was then one of his frat brothers came on up, another big guy, though nowhere near as large as him. He was blonde, with short hair and blue eyes, along with a bright smile that could melt butter.

  “Julia, I want you to meet my bro Taylor,” Raynor said in introduction.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said before taking in the last of my wine. I was starting to feel really good, happy. My nerves finally settling down. “So you guys go to these parties a lot?”

  They both laughed deeply and smiled at
me.

  “Oh yeah, we’re here for all of ‘em really,” Taylor said.

  “We never miss the special ones like this,” Raynor said, still looking at me with his dusky eyes, a smoldering sort of interest there that was unmistakable. “Hopefully you never miss ‘em either after tonight, Julia.”

  I tilted my head curiously, looking between them. “You mean for, like, the hazing of new pledges? I figured you’d only have those once a year?”

  I looked around for a moment, noticing people were dancing a bit more closely. The techno music had changed slightly, and there was the sound of a woman moaning filling in the silence between the beats.

  “The hazing?” Taylor said with some confusion in his voice. “Oh right,” he remarked with a chuckle. “Yeah, the hazings are only once a year.”

  “But once you do it once, you always come back for more,” Raynor said, high fiving his friend with a grin before finishing his beer and laying the mug aside. “You’ll catch on quick, I can tell,” he said, reaching out and putting his big, strong arm about my shoulders.

  I set my cup aside and smiled up at Raynor and his handsome face, feeling more confident. That didn’t sound so scary, anyways.

  “So what is it? The girls wouldn’t tell me, said it had to be a surprise but...” I said, looking for my sorority sisters and finding that they’d all dispersed, and were mingling around the room. I couldn’t see Becky, though.

  “Ah well, we can’t really tell you,” Taylor said, coming in up close to me, grinning.

  “But you, and a couple of guys of your choosin’, are gonna go off into one of the rooms and we’ll break you in. Then you’re done, all in. And I’m sure you’ll be comin’ back for every party thereafter,” Raynor said with a broad, handsome grin of his own.

  “Break me in?” I mumbled, more to myself than them. What was that supposed to mean?

  I opened my mouth to ask when suddenly there was someone behind me, and two hands covered my eyes. I startled until I realized it had to be one of the sister’s. She was around the same height as me.