Bears of Burden: STERLING

by Candace Ayers

  Jim grinned at her and crawled down her body until he could see, touch and hold her breasts. He threw back the blanket then lifted his body, kneeling between her legs. He stared at her breasts. “Wow. You’re beautiful.”

  “You saw them yesterday.”

  “No, your bra hid them."

  She shifted from side to side to make her breasts flow back and forth across her chest. He followed the feminine tips of her breasts with his eyes. She flicked her eyes from his eyes down to the part of her body he looked at. She tried to conquer the impulse to close her legs, but couldn’t. It didn’t matter. His legs were planted immovably between her knees.

  She gasped as his eyes found the area between her legs. She said, breathlessly, "No man has ever looked at me down there."

  "I am."

  She watched him memorize her. "Don't just look. Touch me." He reached down slowly, as if too much speed would make her run away.

  When his fingers stroke her lower lips, she moaned. Her head fell back on a cushion on the sofa. When his tongue spread her folds, her moaning got louder.

  He suddenly stopped. He met her eyes and looked slightly taken aback when he said, "You're a virgin."

  She blushed, "Is that so hard to believe?”

  “No…I… I just mean that you’re so beautiful. You must be fighting men off with a stick.”

  "The only one I wanted didn't seem to want me, and there was no one else I wanted to give my virginity to."

  "You have now, and I’ll treasure you."

  She smiled and let her fingertips wander down his chest and trunk. He felt her soft hands stroke his generous, erect cock.

  Jim stopped moving. Julie’s eyelids sprang open. “Is something wrong?”

  “We have to do something.”

  “Take off the rest of our clothes?”

  “No…. Yes, but something else first. I don’t want a broken heart. I love you. I know it’s short notice, but I love you. We won’t go any farther if you don’t love me or won’t marry me.”

  “Is this a proposal?”

  “Kind of. I’ll propose later. If we have daughters, they’ll want to know how I proposed. We don’t want to tell them that we were lying on the couch, you’d been scared by a criminal, and it just happened. So this is unofficial.”

  She looked at him with bright, hopeful eyes. “I do love you. I will unofficially marry you.”

  Julie watched Jim’s eyes grow wide when she brought his cock up to the entrance to her body. She held it with her hand and used it to rub the sensitive tissues around her opening. She moaned and arched her back. Their eyes met and reassured each other. Julie lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Her hips searched around for him. He felt it and pushed the head of his cock between her lower lips. She gasped, and her eyes went wide. Her attention went to the sensitive tissues between her thighs as the head of his cock stroked her there. He pumped, in gentle movements, in and out.

  Each time he went in, his cock stretched her opening, sending strong waves of pleasure and love to the rest of her body. She closed her eyes. Her mouth dropped open.

  Finally, he could stand it no longer. He pushed the head of his cock against her maidenhead. She opened her eyes. He paused to let her gather her courage. She nodded, and he pushed inside her.

  She twitched once then laid still. She could feel the length of his cock opening her inner channel. She grinned up at him. "We're not using any birth control. We might be starting our family right now."

  "Good. I plan to make you my wife as soon as possible." He withdrew and plunged back in. Within seconds, they moved together as if they were old lovers.

  They kept it simple. As they moved together and her body became accustomed to the new guest in her home, he moved deeper and deeper until his cock filled her completely. She floated along on the arousal Jim caused. It felt peaceful and warm.

  When she felt a tingling warmth in her belly, she knew something was happening. Suddenly she arched her back. Her arms and legs twitched and flailed and a feeling of ecstasy flowed through her body. Her eyes lifted up inside her head and a deep moan escaped her lips. Jim watched her, marveling at the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

  As she gradually came back to earth and her breathing returned to normal, she looked into the eyes of her new lover. His cock was still hard inside her.

  Jim looked like someone was twisting his little finger with a wrench. She touched his cheek. "Go ahead, cum in me."

  His voice was strangled by the effort not to fill her with his semen. "Are you sure? You could get pregnant right now."

  "I'm sure. A baby would be a blessing."

  Jim’s pace changed from slow penetration to vigorous charge inside her. He thrust hard enough to make her breasts bounce.He stopped when he was completely inside her and made small movements His eyes were locked on hers and he concentrated on the feelings her channel gave his cock.

  He groaned. Julie felt his cock harden and straighten then pulse as he pumped semen inside her. Her mouth dropped open. "Jim, I can feel you cum inside me."

  He didn't answer. He was busy delivering several million sperm to their new home.

  When he finished, he slumped down on her. He whispered, "Am I too heavy?"

  "No. You're perfect."

  Etienne and Veronique watched from the side of the sofa. Veronique tilted her head to the side and rested it on Etienne's shoulder.

  Etienne kissed the top of her head. "You have done very well with this one, mi amor."

  Veronique nodded. "I know."

  "I'm going do a little more,” said Etienne. “They are starting the life of a little girl. I will suggest they call her 'Veronique'"

  "Thank you. my sweet."

  EPILOGUE

  Life will sometimes deal vengeance on the very evil. It happened perfectly to BB and Inez.

  BB called his contact with the Mexican brothels as soon as Julie was handcuffed to the bed. The contact, Eduardo, enjoyed the news. Virgin blondes are like uncut drugs in his world. Eduardo loved the plan and drove immediately to BB and the valuable blonde.

  When BB came back to the ruined clubhouse, Eduardo was waiting for him in a lowered Cadillac.

  Eduardo departed from the usual Mexican physique. He topped six feet four in height and 240 pounds in weight. He met BB in the middle of the road. “Where’s the blonde?”

  “I haven’t got her. She escaped.”

  “This is bad, bro. I already called my people in Guadalajara. They’re expecting a blonde next week.”

  “I can get them a blonde. Not a virgin, but a few days of sex and drugs will make her compliant and ready to whore.”

  “That will do. The money will be less, but they won’t be angry.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Inez was dreaming about men and knives and blood when she felt a sting in her arm. She woke up with wild fear in her eyes. She tried to scramble across the bed but another brutal man stopped her. She said, “What...” and fell back on her pillow. She stared at the ceiling and tried to breathe.

  Eduardo tore the sheet down from her body. Inez liked to sleep in the nude. Eduardo brought a man and a woman with him. The man was stupid, brutal muscle from Sinaloa. The woman made Inez look like a nun. She wore all leather.

  Inez mumbled, “Wha... What are you... doing?”

  BB leaned over her. “I’m afraid what’s her name, the other bitch got away. Eduardo needs a blonde for his people in Mexico. Since she's not here, you’re nominated.”

  Inez felt cold fear enter her heart. She became almost alert enough to make sense. “No. I hate men. Don’t make me do this.” The heroin took over again and stopped her from talking or struggling. Her eyes jerked back and forth.

  Eduardo motioned to the woman who took off her clothes. He grabbed Inez by the jaw and turned her toward him. “You hate men. That’s alright. I brought a woman just in case.”

  “No. I hate women just as much.”

  “Damn. Well, babe, I tried.”


  Inez murmured, “What are you going to do to me?”

  “It won’t hurt. You won’t have a brain left when we're done, but it won’t hurt. We’re going to keep you high on smack for three days. We’ll give you more sex, both men and women, than you’ve ever had before. The drugs and the sex will erode your mind enough that you won’t mind the long lines of men who will fuck you for money.”

  The woman crawled up on the bed between Inez’ knees and buried her face between Inez legs. Inez looked like a spider had crawled into her feminine opening. She pushed the woman’s head, weakly, trying to make her tongue leave her alone. It didn’t work.

  She didn’t stop trying for another hour and another shot of heroin. After that, she was cooperative for the next three days. She wasn't in pain. Her body wasn't damaged, but she didn't know her name. She couldn't count to ten, even using her fingers.

  She caught a sexually transmitted disease sometime in the next six months and died alone and unloved in an alley in the worst section of Guadalajara.

  BB thought he’d done all right with the sale of Inez. He’d made six thousand dollars and had a ready market for more blondes.

  For three days, he drove around town close to the high schools, looking for a blonde teenager in a vulnerable situation. He spotted the perfect girl on the third day. She had natural blonde hair and a good body. He followed her until she walked down a deserted street then shot her with a stun gun.

  He picked her up and dropped her in the back of his rented van. She didn't scream after he plucked out the little darts that carried the electricity. She looked at him with a small smile on her face. She said, in a completely normal voice, "You're fucked."

  BB shoved her skirt up to her waist and ripped off her panties. She didn't flinch or squirm. He shoved his hand between her legs. "Don't panic, bitch. I'm just checking for a cherry."

  "I don't have one."

  "Damn. Well, I can still get a couple of grand for you. You are blonde. That's good enough." He didn't tie her up. She didn't seem to need it. He drove off while she sat on the floor of the van in the back. She examined her ruined panties and grunted. She said, "Do you know how much these cost?"

  "No. I don’t give a fuck either."

  A very large SUV came up beside BB's van and forced it off the road. Three men, who looked fiercely nasty to BB, surrounded his van and pointed pistols at him.

  One of them said, "Out." He got out, and they forced him to his knees. The same man said, "Hands behind the head, sport." BB complied. The last time he'd been to church, he'd just started beating kids up for their offering money. He tried to remember a prayer. His mind went blank.

  A fourth man, older and fatter than the other three, got out of the back seat and walked around in front of BB. He had a pistol as well. He pointed it at BB's forehead and flicked the safety off.

  The blonde ran to the big man's side. "Don't kill him, daddy. He put his hands on my little kitty. He has to suffer more than that."

  The big man thought for a few seconds and boomed out with laughter. He took out his cell phone and dialed three numbers. "Hello, operator. I'd like to report a kidnapping." He paused. "No, I apprehended the kidnapper. Send the cops to take him away."

  He grinned at his three thugs and his blonde daughter. "Why should we deal with this garbage when the system will do it for us." He bent over until his face was inches away from BB's. "You put your hand on my little girl's private place. I could cut your balls off, but that's not enough. You're going to prison. I like prison. I've been there a few times, made some good friends. I'll get word to them to make your stay an interesting one."

  He watched BB face turn white. "By the way, my daughter's phone has a tracking feature. We always know where she is." He turned to his daughter. "We got a few minutes to burn until the cops come. Anything you want to do to this guy?"

  The little blonde girl took two steps, planted her left foot next to BB's right knee and swung her right foot up between BB's knees and into his groin.

  The big man said, "Good job, precious. Good weight shift and balance. Those karate lessons help, don't they?"

  "Yes, daddy. They do."

  BB lasted just a month at the state prison before he lost his temper in front of the wrong man. The guards found him the next morning. He was very broken, very bloody and very dead.

  THE END

  HONOR

  A Navy Seal Romance

  STORY DESCRIPTION

  There’s only one thing of importance in Navy Seal Connor Mitchell’s life—his job. Everything else is secondary. When he’s not overseas, defending his country, life feels meaningless.

  And that’s a problem. After a disastrous mission that killed several men on his team, including his best friend, his commanding officers want him to take a breather. And worse than that, they want him to go for therapy. Therapy he insists he doesn’t need.

  Enter Dr. Everly Willis, a psychiatrist who grew up an Army brat, she’s just as tough as he is, and sexy as hell. She’s going to find a way to help him, one way or another…

  Chapter One

  The sun was scorching, sending heat waves shimmering up from the pavement as Connor parked his Harley. Despite the heat, Connor was wearing long sleeves—which he quickly shed—along with a helmet. Ironic, he thought, that the same military that had sent him to risk his life again and again would insist that he not ride a motorcycle without protective gear. He complied though. Most everyone in the military did, truth be told. The navy had a way of making your life hell if you didn’t. If there was one thing Connor could do, it was follow orders.

  Once his gear was stowed safely in the bike’s saddle bags he hung the helmet on a handlebar and made his way across the parking lot. The sun seared his shoulders, the west coast heat almost painful in its intensity. Once, he thought with a mirthless smile, he’d found the sun to be a comfort. Now, it seemed like the heat did nothing to warm him inside. Now it only kept the nightmares close to the surface. The desert sun had beat down on him during damn near all the worst moments of his life. Not surprising, considering his Navy seal team had performed more covert ops in Iraq than anywhere else.

  Africa, too, had that same harsh, pitiless sun. It was as if the penetrating rays leached the humanity out of a man the way they leached the color out of everything that lay exposed to its relentless abuse. The men in Africa had been monsters too, some of them. Not all, of course. Some had just been good men in a bad situation, doing their damnedest to survive. Connor had been following orders, fighting for his life as well. Still, some days had him wondering if he was one of the men or one of the monsters.

  With an effort, he withdrew from the bleak thoughts. He wasn’t a monster. Yes, he’d done some of the very things that made one more beast than man, but the reason he’d done them mattered. The reason mattered. He had to believe that. Because if he didn’t…

  No. He wasn’t going there. He wasn’t. The navy was what he lived for, after all, the only thing that leant meaning to his solitary existence. He wasn’t a monster at heart, but sometimes one had to become a monster in order to hunt them. He was, he reminded himself twisting his lips at the irony, a damned hero.

  However, he was a hero without a cause at the moment. What a fucking mess. He realized—better than any other soul on Earth—that his last mission had gone to shit. He hadn’t needed his commanding officer to tell him that. It wasn’t the first mission that had gone seriously sideways, but his losses were few and far between. That was why they had given him a task that was damned near impossible. He’d followed orders, though, and done the impossible. And now? Now they were punishing him for doing as ordered. Had they expected that shit to go down without a single mother-fucking casualty?

  They hadn’t called it a punishment of course. They’d just looked at him with sympathy—the fastest way to piss him off—told him that it had been a rough run (understatement of the fucking century) and that they needed him to take a knee for a few months. That alone he
could have handled. He had some leave saved up and could have spent the time on a beach somewhere, beautiful women at his side and a drink in his hand. He lived for the job, but surely with enough distraction the time would have flown.

  They wanted him to see a shrink, though. That was just fucking insulting. He’d been handling everything they’d thrown at him just fine on his own for 10 years, since one week after he’d turned eighteen and bid his hometown—and the string of foster homes he’d been placed in, one after another—goodbye. He’d never needed a shrink before. Why now?

  Anger made him push the door to the 6 D’s Lounge harder than he should have. It rebounded off the wall, but it was sturdy, designed with drunken sailors in mind, and didn’t seem any worse for the wear. It was the only real bar on post. There was another, but it was used primarily by higher ranking officers to host functions that Connor had no interest whatsoever in attending. Let someone else follow their CO around like a lost puppy. He preferred to let his work speak for itself. He was far more interested in kicking ass and taking names for Uncle Sam than in furthering his position in the navy.

  The dark atmosphere robbed Connor of his sight momentarily. He found himself reaching for a rifle that wasn’t there. Not being aware of his surroundings unnerved him. His eyes quickly adjusted and he stalked to the bar. He took a seat on the far end, where he could swivel so that his back faced the wall and he could scan his surroundings.

  Connor let the whiskey burn down his throat while his skin cooled, adjusting to the milder temperature in the dimly lit bar. The place didn’t boast much in the way of atmosphere. It was built with the same generic cinderblock walls that characterized older military buildings across the country. It didn’t need to be pretty, though. The navy men—and a few navy women as well—just wanted somewhere close to the barracks where the liquor was cheap. This place fit the bill, so it did a steady business.