by Greg Herren
I bit my lip, determined not to come. Even though Joe’s cock was bringing me closer and closer to the edge, I wouldn’t let him push me over. The harder he fucked me, the harder I bit down, until my mouth was filled with the taste of blood and I heard him breathing harder.
“Good girl,” he said, slapping me with his hand as his cock buried itself in my hole. “You’re giving daddy just what he wants.”
“You fuck real good,” I said through my teeth. “Bet you like ass a lot. I guess you’ve had a lot of practice with a lot of guys.”
Joe slapped me hard on the ass, making me jump. He thrust harder against me, filling my ass with his cock as he continued to spank me. The combination of his rough hand hitting my skin and the pounding of his prick was making me crazy. Then, just as I felt the first small waves begin to shudder within me, he came. Pulling out, he let his cum spray over my back in thick drops. I collapsed against the pillows, panting, and willed the stirrings in my pussy to subside.
When I opened my eyes, Alex was standing beside the bed. He didn’t seem to be much older than nineteen or twenty, his body thin and almost hairless. But in his hand was a long, thick cock. Already a string of precum was dripping from the engorged head, and the more he pumped himself, the more it oozed.
“Suck it,” he ordered, grabbing me by the hair and pushing his dick between my lips.
I took as much of him in as I could, attempting to breathe. The thickness of him was choking me, but he kept shoving more and more into my mouth. I grabbed at his balls, trying to stop him, but he held my hands out of the way as he forced himself all the way in.
“Get it good and wet,” he said.
I did as he said, slicking the length of him with my mouth until his shaft was covered in a mix of lipstick and spit. I was hoping I could make him come just from sucking him, and tried to keep him in my throat. But just as I thought he would lose it, he pulled out. Still standing at the side of the bed, he jerked my legs over his shoulders and impaled me on his shaft. My ass was still sore from Joe’s pounding, and my tits ached from Tony’s fingering. Now Alex worked on my cunt, spreading it wide with his thick cock.
Then both Tony and Joe were there again, their cocks hanging over my face. As Alex fucked me, they took turns sticking their pricks between my lips and making me suck them hard. As my mouth filled with cock, my pussy was being pounded by Alex’s steel-hard dick. All around me I felt heat and skin and hard flesh.
“Come on,” Alex said. “Come for me. Come for my big cock. I want to hear you come.”
I slipped Joe’s prick out of my mouth.
“You’ll have to do better than that, little boy,” I said. “I can’t even feel you in there.”
Pulling my legs tightly against him, Alex fucked me as hard as he could, his balls slapping against my ass. I knew that if I survived the night I’d be black and blue the next day. Even worse, my cunt was starting to ache like it did before I came. Every muscle in my body was tense, and I was on the verge of being swept away. Next to me, I could see Joe and Tony jerking off over my breasts. I started to moan.
“She’s almost there,” I heard Tony say. “Fuck her, man. Fuck her good. Make the bitch come.”
I looked Tony in the eye. “Never call a lady a bitch,” I said, and wrapped my hand around his cock. With three quick jerks, I felt him twitch, and his cum splattered against my tit. “You lose,” I said.
Seeing Tony’s cum dripping down my breast, both Joe and Alex lost it. They came together, one covering my chest with more jism, the other bucking against my cunt as he gasped for air.
“Very good, Sofia.” Corelli was walking across the room toward us, his cigar filling the air with smoke. “You managed to outlast my best men. Your devotion to your husband is admirable.”
“Looks like I win,” I said.
Corelli smiled. “Not quite. You still haven’t given me a chance.”
The three men got off the bed, making room for Corelli. Alex went back and resumed his guard over Jake, while Joe and Tony stood watching. Corelli wiped his finger through the mixed puddle of cum on my chest. He brought it to my lips, smearing it across them.
“You look lovely in this,” he said. “It’s very becoming.”
“Fuck you,” I spat back.
Corelli laughed. “Why, that’s exactly what I had in mind.”
Removing his shoes but keeping his clothes on, he stretched out on the bed with his head at the bottom of the mattress. “Come here,” he said, patting his chest.
I turned around and straddled his chest. I was looking right at Jake as Corelli put his hands on my ass and pulled me forward. His mouth covered my pussy, and his tongue slid between the bruised lips. I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as he pushed up into me, eating the cum left behind by his men.
Jake’s eyes were on mine as Corelli worked on me. I could see the fear in them as he watched my face for any sign that I might be about to come. Alex had the gun pressed tightly against his head, and I could see that he was sweating nervously.
I could also see that he was still hard. I doubted that he’d lost his erection throughout the whole thing. It struck me as funny, and for some reason I almost started to laugh. But then Corelli found my clit with his teeth and began to nibble softly at it. Unable to help myself, I ground against his face.
Reaching down, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Pushing me away from him, he looked into my face. “Sit on it,” he said. “Feed my cock to your hungry cunt.”
Crouching over him, I slipped his head inside me. Still keeping my eyes on Jake, I pushed down, swallowing Corelli’s cock until I was sitting against his stomach. I watched my husband’s face as I rode the prick of the man who wanted to kill him. I could tell that in spite of his terror, Jake was getting off on seeing me fuck another man, especially one who held his life in his hands. It wasn’t about sex or even love. It was about power.
The truth was, I was getting off on it, too, and watching Jake was making me horny as shit. Looking into his eyes as Corelli’s cock filled me, I knew that he longed to free his hands so he could jerk off. I imagined him sitting in the chair, his big prick gripped in his fist as he beat off. I pictured the head swelling, turning dark red as the blood filled it. I saw his balls pulling up as he came closer and closer. I saw the rain of cum splatter his belly as he went over the edge.
I couldn’t help it. As Corelli pushed into me one last time, my throat opened and I began to cry out. My voice filled the room, and as I came in great, heaving gasps, my moans were echoed by the muffled sounds of a gunshot.
When I looked up, Jake was slumped forward in his chair. On the wall behind him was a red stain, as though someone had come in a great crimson splatter across the white surface. There was a smaller stain, darker, against the front of his pants.
“I win,” said Corelli, pulling his cock out of me and pushing me away.
*
I lay on the bed, watching as Corelli zipped his pants and got up. He walked over to the mirror on the wall and looked at himself as he straightened his tie.
“Well, gentlemen, it looks like our little game is over. From now on, you report to me. If any of you don’t like that arrangement, I’d be happy to give you the same chance Mr. Anthony had.”
He turned back to the bed. “As for Mrs. Anthony, I think she showed us all just what it is she needs. For now she’ll be staying with me. After all, a grieving widow needs all the comforting she can get.”
Walking over to Eddie and the boys, he stopped before the blood-covered wall. “Any questions?”
Eddie nodded. “No, sir.” Jake’s blood had speckled Eddie’s shirt, as well as the shirts of the other men, and none of them could bring themselves to look at the body sitting between them.
“Good. Now why don’t you boys go home. Joe will call you all in the morning to discuss your new positions.”
He nodded toward Jake. “Get that piece of shit out of here.”
Eddie and the
other men left. None of them looked at me. Corelli’s boys grabbed the chair with Jake’s lifeless body still strapped to it and hauled it out of the room, leaving us alone. Corelli locked the door, then came back to the bed. Bending down, he kissed me deeply, his tongue as gentle as it had been cruel only moments before.
“You were good,” he said, slipping the buttons of his shirt open and sliding it off. “I knew you would be.”
“I had the easy part,” I said, reaching behind to release the binding that held Nick’s breasts in place. When they were free, I took one in my hand and ran my tongue lightly over the nipple. Nick jumped, drawing in a sharp breath.
“That’s for making me wait so long,” I said. I took the nipple in my mouth again, sucking gently this time and then releasing it. “You’re so beautiful.”
Nick laughed. “My father didn’t think so. He never wanted anyone to know he had a daughter. He blamed me for my mother’s death. That’s why he sent me away. As far as anyone knew, there never was a Nicola Corelli. When I came back wearing suits instead of dresses, he didn’t say a word to anyone. I think secretly he convinced himself that I’d been a boy all along. Even my brothers pretended.”
“I knew the first time I saw you walking down the street that you’d be my lover,” I said. “I went home and made myself come, thinking of kissing your face. When Jake fucked me that night, I thought about you holding me. It was the only time I was ever unfaithful to him.”
“You mean the first time,” Nick said teasingly.
She was right. After that day, I had looked for Nick everywhere. Sometimes I would see her on the street, or walking through the park. Each time, I would feel the dampness spread between my legs. Once, after catching a glimpse of her sitting a few tables away from me in a restaurant, drinking coffee, I had begged Jake to finger me under the table until I came watching her blow the smoke from her cigarette into the air.
We met, finally, at a New Year’s Eve party held by a mutual associate. Shortly before midnight, I was going up the stairs to the ladies room, and Nick was coming down. She was dressed in a tuxedo, and when our eyes met, I held her gaze. She followed me to the bathroom, where she pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. Lifting me onto the edge of the sink, she fucked me for the first time. As the clock downstairs struck twelve, I came, moaning in Nick’s ear as Jake looked around the room, wondering where I was.
After that, we saw one another whenever we could. It was as though Nick had entered my blood and flowed through my veins, filling me with her heat. I needed her every minute, and she needed me just as badly. All that stood in our way was Jake and Nick’s family. One hot, wet summer night, while Jake was away on business and the thunder crashed around us as we lay in Nick’s bed, we’d come up with our plan. Now, a few months later, we were together as we’d dreamed of being.
“I remember seeing you at that party and asking my brother who you were,” Nick said. “He laughed at me, telling me no woman would ever want me because I couldn’t give her what she needed.”
“But now your brothers are dead,” I said, running my hands through Nick’s hair and down her back. “And you’re just what I need.” I slid my hand into her open pants and felt the cock inside, the straps of the harness curving over her beautiful ass. “Jake used to be as hard as this after he’d killed someone.”
Nick straddled me, pushing her cock against my belly. “But now Jake is dead, too, and you’re mine. Poor Jake, he never should have told you where he was making the hit on Marotta.”
“And you should never have told your old dear papa that Richie was trying to take some of his business away from him. Otherwise, he’d be safe and sound in his own bed.”
Nick kissed me. “They knew the game was a dangerous one when they started playing it,” she said. “They just didn’t count on the players changing. But from now on, we’re in control.”
“Do you think we’ll be able to pull it off?”
In answer, Nick entered me, and I enfolded her in my arms, drawing her deeper. As she began to fuck me, I knew that the game was just beginning.
Spin Cycle
Greg Herren
My alarm woke me from the dreamless sleep of the truly content.
I smacked my hand down on it—it was a reflex. I opened my eyes and sat up in my bed. I could smell brewing coffee from downstairs. I yawned and stretched—I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so deeply, so peacefully. I reached for my glasses from the little table next to the bed and slipped them on. Everything swam into focus, and my heart started sinking the way it did every morning when I started coming to full consciousness.
Still in the goddamned carriage house, I thought, getting out of bed with a moan, and no commutation of the sentence in sight. Stupid fucking Katrina.
But there was silence outside, other than birds chirping in the crepe myrtles.
No hammering or sawing. No drilling.
I smiled.
I slipped on the rubber-soled shoes I had to wear upstairs. I avoided the carpet nails jutting up from the wooden floor on my way to the bathroom. The floor slanted at about a thirty-degree angle to the left. It used to disorient me, but I’d gotten used to it in the nine months I’d been sentenced to live in this pit. I looked at the bags under my eyes while brushing my teeth and washing my face. No need to shave, I decided. I wasn’t going anywhere or seeing anyone today.
In fact, I’d finished a job and didn’t have to start the next for a few days.
I was at loose ends.
I pulled on purple LSU sweatpants and a matching hooded sweatshirt before heading downstairs to get some coffee.
I was on my second cup, surveying the stacks of boxes piled in practically every available space. It was the same routine every morning. Drink some coffee, look around and try to figure out if there was some way to make this fucking place more comfortable, more livable. I had yet to figure out a way, without renting a storage space and getting everything out.
And every morning I came to the conclusion there wasn’t a way.
I closed my eyes, and took deep, calming breaths.
Maybe I should just rent the storage unit and be done with it, I said to myself. You don’t know how long you’re going to be stuck in here before the work on the house is done. Imagine not having all these towering stacks of boxes collecting dust in here. Imagine not having this soul-deadening reminder everywhere you look—
A knock on the front door jolted me back into the present. I crossed the room and opened the door. “Yes?”
The tall black woman in a gray business suit flashed a badge at me. “I’m Venus Casanova with the NOPD. I’m sorry to disturb you, sir. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few moments?”
“Sure, come on in.” I stepped aside to let her in. “Have a seat. Would you like some coffee? I just made some.”
She flashed me a brief smile as she sat down on my rust-colored love seat. “No, thank you. I’ve had more than enough this morning already.” She slipped a small notebook and pen out of her jacket pocket. “The label on the buzzer out by the front gate said J. Spencer. Is that your name?”
“Joe Spencer, yes,” I replied. “What’s going on?” I sat down in a green plastic chair. There were two of them on either side of a matching table. They were patio furniture, meant for the outdoors. Before the flood, I would have never had such things inside my house.
But as I kept telling myself, it was only temporary.
If you could call nine months and counting temporary.
“How long have you known Mr. and Mrs. Dufour?”
“Bill and Maureen?” I thought for a moment. “Just a few months—he started working on the house back in March. Nice couple, a little odd. I thought Bill was a little old to still be doing this kind of work by himself, but then I’m not paying them.” I laughed, to take the sting out of the words. “So, what’s going on? Why are you here, Detective?”
“I’m afraid I have to tell you Mrs. Dufour is dead.” Her
voice was calm, her face without expression.
“Oh, no! Bill must be—oh, how awful. How absolutely awful.” I shook my head. “I assume it was her heart?”
She tilted her head slightly to one side. “Why would you assume that? Did she have a bad heart?”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I replied. “But she was pretty old. Older than Bill, but I’m not for sure how old he is, to be honest. But she told me she was in her late seventies…and since he’s doing construction work, I figured he couldn’t be much older than sixty-five. But I do know she’s his fourth wife.
Her right eyebrow went up. “His fourth wife?”
I shrugged. “Yes, he told me once he’d buried three wives and would probably bury Maureen, too. He laughed about it—which I thought was kind of creepy, frankly. I mean, I guess when you’ve had three wives die on you—I don’t know. It’s just not something I’d think you would laugh about.”
“So, did you know them well?”
“Not well. I mean, I talked to him more than her. Mostly about the house stuff, how it was going, things like that. He’d stop by every once in a while and give me a progress report, and of course he’s always outside working whenever I come or go, you know?” I took another drink from my coffee mug. “They’re a little odd.”
“Odd?”
“Odd. I mean, they’re friendly enough, but I always got an odd vibe from them. I didn’t like to be around them, they made me uncomfortable. It’s nothing I can put my finger on and say for a fact…but yeah. There was just something about them.” I shivered a little. “Something not quite right, do you know what I mean?”
Before she could answer, there was another knock on the door. I smiled and got up. “Let me get that.” She smiled and nodded. “Yes?” I asked.
The man standing there was handsome, and I couldn’t help the involuntary smile. He smiled back at me. “Excuse me sir, but I need to speak with Detective Casanova.” He flashed a badge at me.