Ash: Devil's Crucifix MC

by Carmen Faye

  It took them forever to calm down. The cascading climaxes took everything from them. It was as close to spiritual as she had ever experienced. She also understood the French term La petite mort -- the little death — the French's reference for orgasms.

  If she doesn't believe I'm completely her woman now, I'm not sure anything will convince her, Shayla thought to herself as she panted with explosive exhales and desperate inhales.

  The love-light climax that followed was intense and felt like a true climax to her this time. She moaned with savage ripples of pleasure.

  Once her breathing was close to normal, she said, "Sydney, that was so beautiful."

  "I've never had sex like that," Sydney whispered near her ear. "It's never been like that before. God, if I could have your baby I would Shayla. I could feel your love pouring into me, and I tried to pour mine back into you, and the more I poured the more I had. It was crazy."

  "I felt every drop Syd. Every fucking drop," she told her, and kissed her neck and fondled her ass.

  "I don't need you to do any crazy shit Shayla. You don't need to prove you love me. I just get scared sometimes, you know? Like you said, sometimes it feels so fragile, like it could just pop like a bubble, for no reason at all. I'm sorry if I hurt you with the bitch and whore stuff."

  "No baby. I told you before Sydney, that I was fine with that, I even enjoy it, because it turns you on so much, and if you still want to do it, I would like to as well, but, I like this too. So, maybe, every once in a while, you could just love me? Like this? Would that be alright?" she asked, putting as much vulnerability into her voice as she could.

  "You don't mind it?" Sydney asked.

  "I love it when you take me and fuck me. I loved dancing for you and I want to do that again too. Can I be your woman and your bitch? Is that alright?"

  "But I'm not sharing you with anyone except Neil Shayla," she said with sudden aggressiveness. "I understand now how someone can kill over love. I get that. You're my bitch, you're my whore, and no one else's. No one else is even allowed to call you that. Got it?"

  She kissed Sydney's neck and made happy sounds, while wiggling her ass. "Yes Sydney. I got it. Thank you," she said with as much pleasure and love as she could pack into the words.

  When Neil came back they were still kissing and caressing each other on the couch. When he came in, they both looked over at him and started giggling.

  He gave them a tentative smile, "What?"

  "I think we're ready for our movie debut," she told him, smiling as foxy as she could manage.

  "Are you going to let your band friends see these?" Sydney asked causally, and it sounded like there was a bit of hoping in there as well to Shayla.

  "I wasn't planning on it, no," He said and set down the two large boxes that he was carrying. "Why?"

  "Nothing," Sydney said, sounding slightly disappointed.

  "Really?" Neil asked, as if he picked up on the same vibration.

  "Well," Sydney said softly, "part of me thinks it would be cool to have a band that I love, hot for me, but it's not something I need."

  "Oh, well, maybe I'll share one. Something a little tame. How's that?"

  Sydney looked at Shayla, "How do you feel?"

  "Something tame sounds alright. Not sure what that is, because so far we've had animal-sex, and rumpus-sex, and life altering-sex, and we just added spiritual experience-sex, but I can't recall a single moment of tame-sex, ever. Unless you two had it while I was shopping or something."

  Sydney shook her head, "No, we just have wrestling, football and animal-sex. Sometimes tickle-sex, but he doesn't play fair, so I stopped doing that with him."

  "He cheats?"

  "Well, maybe. He always wins so he must cheat. I mean, how could he always win without cheating?"

  "Um, I haven't left the room girls," Neil told them.

  "Oh, right, sorry," Sydney said and then stuck her tongue out at him.

  "Neil, I trust you, and if you want to share them, that's up to you. I'll do them for you, and only for you. What you do with them afterward is not any of my business," she told him.

  "I think it would be your business," Neil disagreed. "More yours than mine, don't you think?"

  "No," she said. "It's a gift. If I gave you a truck, would you ask me if you could loan it to West for a weekend so he could move? Or would you just tell me that you were doing that, as in, information only?"

  "That's hardly a good comparison. I wouldn't loan you to West for the weekend," Neil told her.

  "Just for a few hours right?" Sydney interjected.

  Neil smiled, "He would like that, but no. I'm not into sharing my women with club members. Some guys are, and it's more or less accepted, but not for me."

  "What about having her dance for them? You should have seen her dance earlier. She was fucking amazing. Seriously. She's got some exotic mojo going on." Sydney told him.

  "Hmm, maybe we could film that, that is if she's willing to dance for the brothers," Neil said thoughtfully.

  "I'm willing," she said without hesitation.

  Neil paused and then nodded his head, "I knew you would say that, what I don't understand is why?"

  He came over to sit down on the edge of the coffee table to give her his full attention. "You're submissive sexually, nurturing and giving, and honestly, I get off on it. I know Sydney does too. I'm not into the dominating thing like she is, but that's alright as well. You, Shayla, seem to be satisfied with being submissive, so no fault and no foul. But why would you go so far? I'm not saying I wouldn't like it, or judging it. I'm just trying to know you better."

  "Well, first you are into the domination thing, you just don't need to say things to get you there. You're there when you first touch me. Sydney isn't as sure of herself yet, so she uses role-play with me to do what you do just breathing. Which is fine, because I like the role-play. I get off on it to with her. We were just talking about that as a matter of fact," she clarified.

  She turned thoughtful, and then said, "I'm not sure Neil. If I'm going to be soul bearing truthful, which I'm in the mood for right now, I don't know why I want to be sexually submissive. I do know I feel confident, and even feel a sense of power from it, if that makes any sense. I have these..." she paused and took a breath. "I've been having these strong emotional — well, orgasms are what they are like — when I'm actively submissive to you. It's like this endorphin rush. It only happens when I'm actively trying to turn you on, and putting a lot of effort into being your dream girl."

  She paused, and searched the ceiling, "So, that's part of it, I guess. Part of me celebrates being your woman, and Sydney's woman in the bedroom. But part of it is also just plain fucking gratitude that I get to be yours and Sydney's. I mean, without you Neil, it could have been years, maybe even decades before Sydney could have gotten through to me this whole being in love thing. I didn't grow up with this Neil. It didn't exist in my house at all. My father was an abusive drunk and my mother was an abusive crystal addict. If they weren't ignoring me, they were usually beating me for some perceived wrong. My mother was constantly accusing me of things that I didn't even have the mental capacity to think up."

  "So, here I am with you two. Not just one, but two, real, true lovers, who I believe love me. I didn't believe love was even a desirable thing before I met Sydney and I loved her long before I would admit it to her."

  "So, there's part of it as well. Just simple gratitude and if you would like me to dance for your brothers, then I don't see any reason why I shouldn't. I enjoy dancing, I enjoy turning you and Sydney on, and it probably wouldn't be all that bad turning on a few guys at the same time."

  She bit her lip then, and said, "I am glad you aren't into sharing Neil. That would be hard I think. But, I'm so fucking in love with you, and Sydney, that I understand why a woman would agree to do that for her man. I mean, if you asked -- if you asked, I might do it, seriously. I would ask that they wear condoms and things like that, but really, I want to please you so
much that if you said, 'Shayla, it would turn me on to see you fucking a few of the guys when they come over next time,' I ... I want to be your dream girl. I don't want you to ever wish for anything that I can give you."

  Neil thought about this for a while and then said, "I get that. I mean, I understand the concept. But I want you to consider something. You, more than Sydney — and we've talked about this — are the wife. When it gets right down to it, this is your house, your domain. We have a voice, but this is yours, and not because you bought it either, but because we gave it to you. We both see you as our wife."

  She nodded, tried to keep back a rush of sudden tears when she said, "I understand that. I'm your woman, and I'm Sydney's woman. You two are ... well... best friends, buddies. You watch football and go to the games together. You wrestle and shoot spit balls at the bad guys during the movie, which I still don't understand the humor in, but that's how you are with each other. I'm the woman, or the wife."

  "So, I would like you to consider that just because me or Sydney want something, doesn't mean we should have it. It may not be healthy for either of us if you give us every sexual fantasy we dream up. You've seen what we are like together — spit wads is just the tip of the iceberg. You're who we need, when we need someone we trust deeply. We both trust you explicitly. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

  She tried to adjust her thinking, and then said slowly, "You're saying that since you trust me, if I say it's good, or ok, then you believe me — even if you think it might hurt you later... like watching me fuck your friends in our living room." After some more thought she added, "And sexual fantasies never include the aftermath. They're just libido urges. They turn us on, so we think we want them, when the actual reality might be unhealthy and even hurt."

  Neil nodded, and said, "Exactly."

  Sydney added, "Neil's right. We go off the deep end with shit so fucking fast, especially when we're together and talking about you. Our fantasy life is boundless Shayla. You can't fill them all. For one thing, you don't have a twin, so right there two or three hundred fantasies are out the window already. We love you, and we'll love you after you say, 'no', too. We'll probably even be grateful you did say no."

  Shayla leaned back on the couch and looked at both of them, from one to the other. "Most of my life, even up to the day you finally asked us out Neil, my world was a defending 'no'. No, I'm not going to give you my number. No I'm not going to call you. No I don't want a relationship. No, I don't want to meet your mother. No, I don't want you in my life. Now I finally have a place I can say yes, and it feels so good to do so. But you're right Neil, sexual fantasies don't hold relationships together."

  Neil leaned over and kissed her, "Good. Now, why don't you two get dressed and go learn how to shoot a gun?"

  "Are you trying to get rid of us?" Sydney asked with suspicion saturating her voice.

  "Yes, now get," he said and stood up, went back to his boxes and carried them into the studio.

  "What's in the boxes?" Sydney called after him, getting up from the couch and cautiously following toward the studio.

  "Party favors. And no, you can't see. These are for macho he-man bikers," the told her.

  "Ah," Sydney said, coming back to take Shayla's hand and lead her upstairs to get dressed. As they climbed the stairs Sydney whispered, "He has to sleep sometime."

  Chapter 23

  When Neil left the house earlier, leaving girls necking on the couch — where he found them when he came back — he had several puzzles on his mind. Every indicator suggested that Anton had no idea where they had run off to, or if they had run off at all.

  The woman he looked up to as much as he looked up to Amanda, had some confusing boundaries when it came to sex and pleasing him, or Sydney — actually, what was confusing was the obvious lack of boundaries.

  The plan to give Anton something else to worry about, proposed by Shayla was solid, efficient and brutal — he just didn't know if he could be that shark-like and still look at himself in the mirror. Wouldn't a bullet to the brain be more humane?

  Sydney seemed far too excited about his proposed family-home-porno-videos.

  And lastly, the girl's 2014 Ford Mustang Shelby GT 500, was far too nice of a car. It was so nice that he was actually considering owning a car, something he had never done in his life — a couple of pickups, but never a car.

  When he reached his safe-house in north Miami, he made a quick mental list of all the items he wanted to grab out of there, and then went inside, working quickly and efficiently to fill the boxes he had in the hall closet with general items of war, and concealment: masking paper, drywall texture, tape, paint, an M16 with 40mm grenade launcher, ammo, grenade bandoleer, ten ounces of cocaine, two thermite grenades, five 9mm Beretta pistols, twenty 9mm Beretta clips, laser sight, and ten thousand in cash.

  When he first heard the news about the phone call, his decision was that even if it was a hoax, he was preparing for war. He should have set the house up when they first moved in. He had plenty of days he could have spent a few hours positioning arms and ammunition. Something deeper than procrastination or his surface excuse of mixing and preparing for the tour, kept him from preparing his house for battle and survival — it also kept him from looking into the reason too closely.

  From all he heard, Anton's left hand was fractured and broken in no less than six areas, with one finger so badly crushed it was likely he would lose flexibility in the digit permanently. Sydney did a number on him there — but it served him right for slapping around the woman Sydney loved. Sydney, Neil decided, could be ultraviolent. She had a long fuse, which was a blessing, but when she went off, bodies would fall and mountains would be moved.

  Anton also had three bullet holes in him. Two in the left shoulder, which would also result in limited use and flexibility in that area, and one in his ass, where Neil shot him while Anton tried to hide behind a car door. None of these wounds were healed yet. All three were made with jacketed slugs — armor piercing — cop killers." What this meant for Anton is that they did have a chance of healing completely, since a jacketed slug will pierce a body, with little resistance. Hollow points, for example, blow out chunks of flesh from the exit wounds. Even regular old lead slugs can be messy. By comparison, jacketed slugs create some clean, low damage holes in the human body.

  All three shots went right through Anton, and from what Neil heard, they all exited with little aggressive damage. Still, they are holes in the body, going through flesh and bone, and were going to take some time to heal.

  Since Jason died in the line of duty as Anton's driver, Anton hasn't been able to coerce a new driver for himself. He's had to hire a professional — non-club-member — meaning his days of chasing down adversaries with a gun hanging out the window were basically over.

  Anton hasn't been able to get around much after their last encounter. The hole in his shoulder was certainly traumatic to the already wounded flesh, but the hole in his ass, going in one gluteus maximus cheek, and right out the other, was more than simply traumatic — it was embarrassing. Sitting with any dignity at all, was a serious problem, so he was spending most of his time at home, and dealing with people using the Skype communication program.

  Anton put out a $20k bounty for the girl's new address, clamming that they were now working for the Highwaymen and he had solid evidence of their treason. So far, no one has collected this bounty, and if Anton had their address, he would have retracted the reward as quickly as possible — he wouldn't want to be in the position of paying out that kind of money twice for the same information.

  From what Neil's brothers were telling him during their late night get-togethers, no one in the club was interested in helping Anton find the girls. The general consensus was that this was a personal matter now, between Anton, Shayla and Sydney. In fact, the more Anton attempted to recruit club support the more apathy he received.

  Neil decided, on the way back to the house, that the likelihood of Anton knowing where they
were at, with all of these things in mind, was slim. Still, betting your life, even on a slim margin, was never a good bet.

  Once back, and after a little heart to heart with Shayla, he felt better about her point of view. He had been concerned about her being self-derogating. Watching his two wives leave the house heading for the gun-range, he believed that she was simply lacking in experience — that she had an over developed, and unfocused sense of submissiveness and loyalty. She seemed to grab a hold of his suggestion with gratitude and new purpose, which set his mind at ease.

  There were many women who hung around the club, who would gladly perform sexual acts for their men — as in servicing friends or entertaining for parties and runs. Having such a woman as a wife never interested him, though sometimes he felt he was in the minority. Shayla offered so much more. His reliance on her cool head and clear thinking was growing with each passing day. Perhaps she could also perform as some of these other women did without feelings of deprivation, but why risk all that she was for a few erotic stimulations?