The Second Force, who is still behind her, wraps his arms around the tree and Tuesday. He latches onto her hips as she grinds against the tree.
“You were saying?” The First Force says as he grabs her face and pulls her close with pressurized kisses. He toggles his tongue in and out of her mouth at such an intense speed that Tuesdays’ clit flitters and spasms.
The Third Force reaches up and slips his finger inside her as if he’s dipping fingers inside a peanut butter jar. He feels the pulsating twitches up against his finger. He curiously looks up and uses the other hand to peel open her labia.
This Force seems more intrigued with Tuesday’s pussy than turned on.
“Tuesday manages to get a few words out, “I loved you, but you’re gone. Please let me live my life…”
The First Force lifts up Tuesday, and she wraps her legs around his hips. His wings flatten out over her calves and ankles.
With a faint tone, “I have granted you one single wish. Do you want to use it now?” the First Force says as his raises her up by the waist then lowers her down on top of his heavenly manhood. He slips right into the dripping moist walls of her vagina after an initial thrust.
He’s a perfect fit.
This is not the first time, and probably not the last that they’ve connected this way.
Tuesday shakes her head no in response to his question. She knows she has only one wish, and she must use it wisely.
The Second Force comes behind Tuesday as she swivels her hips forward and back on Force One’s heavenly cock.
The Second Force presses himself against her as his wings flutter in excitement. He fondles his member as he sticks his two fingers in-between her butt cheeks.
My God, her ass is a turn on. So perfectly round, juicy and inviting, the Second Force thinks.
He moves his fingers up and down her crack before he settles on her anus. He wets his finger with his own juices before he slips a finger into her anus, a little bit at a time before he’s fully inside.
He finger-bangs her ass while The First Force fucks her pussy.
Tuesday goes limp in The First Force’s arms as her body is in overload mode. Her breasts bounce up and down with each thrust from both partners.
The Third Force slides his finger out of Tuesday’s anus and fondles himself to get hard. He then shoves his cock in-between Tuesday’s butt cheeks. He presses the cheeks together firmly for the maximum pressure on his member.
With each squeeze, he lets out an animalistic vocal that reverberates throughout the forest.
The Second Force pleasures himself as he gazes upon the other two screwing Tuesday. He tilts his head to the side, the way a dog does, wondering if he should take Tuesday for himself.
The Second Force spits on his fingers and strokes his member. But before he ejaculates, he senses another presence. He rises from the ground and sniffs the air with a long inhale. He turns his head in the direction of Roman, who crouches down behind thick brush.
Their Roman squats as the blood rushes from his extremities. He’s pale. He’s in shock.
In a sudden blast of movement, The Second Force violently rushes towards Roman. He grabs him and lifts him over his head with both arms.
Tuesday turns in Roman’s direction and is shocked to see him here. What the hell is he doing here? Why did he follow her? This could cost him his life, she thinks before she screams, “Wait!”
Chapter Nine
Roman awakens on Tuesday’s couch in her loft. He’s bruised, sore, but okay as far as he can tell.
He panics for a moment as he has no idea where he is or how he got there.
Tuesday glides into the room with a fluffy robe on and animal-print slippers.
“How do you feel,” she says as she hands him a cup of coffee.
Roman ignores the coffee gesture and rises from the couch.
“Careful, you’re nursing a hangover,” she lies to calm him.
Roman cradles his head with both hands and sits back down on the couch.
Tuesday sits down next to him. Her robe opens up to reveal her luscious thick thighs. She quickly closes it. She needs to stay focused if she’s going to convince Roman that tonight never happened.
“You did a bit too much celebrating tonight. I’m surprised you drank as much as you did.”
“What?” Roman says in a state of confusion.
Tuesday realizes that his life may depend on him forgetting everything he saw tonight, so she continues the charade.
“I was leaving when I saw you in your car, hungover. I couldn’t leave you like that, so I had some stranger walking by, help me get you into my car. My doorman helped bring you up. You don’t remember anything?”
Roman studies Tuesday’s face for any hint that what she’s telling him isn’t the truth. As a fighter, you have to trust your gut, trust your instincts and most importantly, believe your inner voice.
His inner voice tells him that what he saw was real. Something that he can’t explain was in that forest; translucent beings fucking Tuesday.
Roman jumps on top of Tuesday which knocks over the coffee table and sends her java mug crashing to the ground. He straddles her and locks her arms over her head in one swift movement.
He understands his strengths and takes great care not to hurt or harm Tuesday. But he has to know the truth.
“What are you doing?” Tuesday yells out as she struggles to pull her wrists away from his tight grip. As she wrestles to break free, her robe loosens, and her breasts bounce out. They are a glorious site. Her swollen nipples protrude and beg to be sucked.
With one hand in the lock position holding her wrists above her head, Roman rips the belt from her robe.
He can’t help but admire her curvaceous hips and tiny waist. How he wants to run his finger down from her cleavage, over her soft stomach and down between her legs.
Roman transfixes on her leopard panties as she twists to get away. They are low-cut with pubic hairs peeking out from the sides.
Roman gets a hard on and wants nothing more than to rip those panties off and consume her. He can imagine his mouth all over her body. He wants to raise her hips and throw her legs over his shoulders so that her pussy is wide enough for him to eat her alive. He imagines her shrieking with pleasure as his tongue delves deeper inside her cultivated, pink garden.
Roman gets in-between her limbs and spreads her legs. He holds her legs open with his powerful thighs.
She is no match for him. She is at his mercy.
Roman bends her legs further and widens them to survey her inner thighs. He inspects for bruises and redness; any indication that she’s had rough sex tonight.
He leans in and presses his nose up against her crotch and inhales. He runs his nose along the length of the elastic of her panties; on all three sides once, twice, and a third time.
His nose accidentally slips under one side of the elastic and rests in the valley between her leg and hip. That is precisely where Roman lives. He’s used to licking and nibbling on this exact location.
His highly developed sense of smell sends his hormones into overdrive as he inhales her sweet, creamy scent.
Tuesday thrusts her hips and squirms to try and escape, but she only manages to accidentally roll her panties down below her ass.
Her bush and vagina are fully exposed and are damp from the struggle. The crotch of her panties is wet to the touch.
She doesn’t know what to do. Is he going to force himself on her?
Roman continues to hold her wrists together, and with the other hand flips her over onto her stomach in one quick movement.
Her panties are below her ass, “Please, don’t” Tuesday halfheartedly pleads.
Roman rubs the crotch of her panties between his thumb and index finger. Once his fingers are saturated, he lifts them to his mouth and sucks them dry.
Tasting her juices second hand is better than nothing at all.
Tuesday twists and turns as Roman moves in-between her legs once
again thereby spreading her legs as far as they can go.
The way she arches her back, he has a full view of her vagina and anus.
Roman parts her cheeks with his fingers. He runs his fingers down her crack until he reaches her anus. He opens up her anus to look for any broken blood vessels. He has to take a closer look. He leans in with his lips and tongue just an eighth of an inch away.
He hovers near her anus. Would it be so wrong if he were to stick his tongue inside her tight ass? Would she howl with pleasure as he licked up and down her crack and settled in her anus?
No, he could not do this, though that was his strongest urge at the moment.
He doesn’t see any indication of being finger-fucked, so he forces himself to move on.
Tuesday is quiet as no one has ever inspected her before. She fights back the urge to let him know that she wants him now, that his brutal touch has awakened senses that were long dead.
How she wants him to lick and suck her anus before he reaches between her legs to scratch at her vagina. She wants his bruised hand to squeeze and flick her labia, to part her pink lips and finger fuck her into submission as he tongue-fucks her ear.
How she envisioned him unzipping his pants and releasing his cock, robust and wet. She wanted him to position her hips in such a way that he could enter her vagina from behind. She wanted to feel his rock hard cock force find it’s way inside her.
But she remained silent, as she knew she was still another’s, and he was a jealous being.
Roman brushes his hand up against her bush as he raises her panties back up; first one hip. In doing so, his hand also skims her labia. He lingers there for a split second as Tuesday tingles from the touch.
His bulge demands satisfaction, yet his plan is not to have sex tonight; and especially with a woman who doesn’t want him.
Roman doesn’t smell or detect the presence of other men, so he is satisfied.
He releases Tuesday’s wrists as she sits up and pulls the other side of her panties up. She’s kind of angry with him and decides to take a swing. She wants to knock his lights out for taking absolute control of her body. But he catches her hand in his fist and interrupts her before she makes contact with his face.
“No one has come close to landing one on the face of The Pretty,” Roman says, referring to himself in the third person, “And no one will.”
She jumps off the couch and yanks her robe shut. She doesn’t understand what just happened. She should be scared shitless of Roman, but she’s not.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she said, coming to her senses and pissed as hell.
“I had to see for myself. It had to be done.”
“See what exactly for yourself?” jackass.
“I apologize. I had to follow my gut. This is the first time that it’s proved me wrong,” Roman says as he rises from the couch and walks over to the floor-to-ceiling window to take in a breathtaking skyline view.
“How many floors up are we?” Roman asks as Tuesday stands nearby with tightly folded arms.
“What have you decided?” she asks.
Roman turns in Tuesday’s direction, “It was an insane, mind-bending dream.”
Tuesday asks a follow-up question without looking at him, “What was the dream about?”
As if she didn’t know. She knew exactly what it was about. However, now, she’s confident that she’s convinced him that it was truly a dream.
She’s sorry as hell that he was there. But if he had only minded his own god-damn business, this would have never happened.
For this secret of Tuesdays’ must remain one. She would give anything if she could share her secret. But she can’t. And she can’t run away from it either.
Her former lover, Christopher, was now a Force. She lost him in a car accident after an elderly man who should not have been driving, ran a red light.
Tuesday prayed to God and said she would do anything to have him back with her.
Her prayers were answered, yet he was not in the form she expected. He was a force, mighty and invisible. And he is not willing to let her go; even in death.
His gluttonous sexual appetite has not wavered. And he takes Tuesday on a regular basis.
But he’s given her an out by granting her one wish. She has held onto that wish, careful only to use it in the perfect situation.
Of course she could wish that he would just go away and never return. But he still has a hold on her; though his grip is slipping as the weeks go by.
No, no matter how much she wants to tell Roman everything, she can’t. He wouldn’t understand. The news would also put him back in a direct path with a jealous force that will stop at nothing to keep Tuesday in his arms.
Tuesday does have a plan, however. She can’t be the only woman in this situation. And for the last couple of months, she’s been searching for groups of women like herself. She may have found someone… someone who can rid her of Christopher and his partners.
Tuesday tracks Roman with her eyes as he moves away from the window.
Roman is not one to shy away from anything. In fact, he can’t remember the last time he felt embarrassment. He didn’t want to share this living daydream, or dark as hell nightmare with Tuesday.
How could he tell her what he thought he saw? She would probably have him committed. So he just buries it deep inside.
Roman reaches for his jacket and walks out the front door. Tuesday follows behind him and shuts the door and locks it.
Chapter Ten
It’s Saturday morning, and it’s the one day that Roman takes off from his intense training.
He didn’t sleep well last night as visions of Tuesday and strange beings planted themselves in his subconscious. Sure, what she said could explain it all. And the fact that he held Tuesday down and inhaled every part of her, only solidifies her story.
But what if what he saw, was real? What if there are things in this world that can’t be explained? The more he thinks about this, the most confused he becomes. So for now, he’s going to have to let it go. He’s got something far more important to do today.
Roman enters a Boys and Girls Club where a bunch of nine and ten-year-olds race over to him to be the first to spar with him.
It’s a privilege to be picked as the first by, The Pretty. To these kids, he is a God. He’s someone to look up to, someone to emulate. Most of these kids have no fathers and starve for male guidance.
Roman sees himself in their eyes. He’s no Saint, yet he has a soft spot for kids who were around his age when his life went all to hell.
One night sticks out vividly for Roman; a night he has not shared with anyone, not even the Police or Social Workers. Why would he? They couldn’t stop abuse and were barely around to check on him as he was passed from one foster home to another.
But none of those homes could match the terror he survived living with his own mother.
He was eleven. It was him and his mom; whenever she was around. Gladys was her name. An ugly name for an even uglier woman.
An endless parade of men would frequent her bed from sun up to sun down. They each paid twenty dollars to have their way with her. Roman slept in a closet to get away from the sex sounds that made him physically ill.
The apartment had a thick stench of cigarettes and urine. Mold lined the kitchen and bathroom walls. Dirty dishes were piled up not only in the kitchen, but living room and bedroom as well.
It was Roman’s job to collect the cigarette butts and empty beer cans. He recycled those cans every five days so that he could have change for food. Other times, he would simply steal food to survive.
He was one of those kids everyone knew as poor. The would make fun of him every chance they got. But Roman didn’t care as having a guaranteed meal was more important than his pride.
Even though he lived in filth, Roman always wore clean clothes to school. A kindly neighbor, Mrs. Lopez, would do his laundry and keep his clean clothes at her home. He would leave his apartment, then s
hower and get dressed at hers. This arrangement lasted for several years before the Department of Children Services took him from the home.
During one of his mother’s meth binges, she accepted twenty dollars for a stranger to have his way with Roman. She called him into the room. In between snorts of cocaine and injections of meth, she explained that this is the way it has to be and that all kids have to do this if they love their mother.
The PRETTY (EROM Curvy Romance #1) Page 4