by Lucas, Helen
He grabbed his crotch with a grin and slapped my ass. I kept my act up, giggling and covering my mouth.
“You’re so bad!”
“I’ve been teaching her what she needs to know and she still ain’t done with me, so I think it’s time I introduce her to y’all. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. Doesn’t start drama. She’ll take anything you throw at her.”
That must have been some sort of signal. The men, along with Fang, drifted away from me and I was left standing alone on the beach. The other old ladies—some of them much larger than me, and much older—began to circle me.
“This dumb cunt thinks she’s good enough for Fang?” I heard someone say. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be respond.
And then, out of no where, a fist struck me hard in the kidneys from behind. My world went hot white for a second and I fell to my knees, gasping in pain. I forced myself to stand back up, trying to turn around to see who it was who hit me.
“Stay on the ground, bitch,” someone screamed, and another fist collided with my jaw. I flew off me feet, onto the sand, and rolled onto my side, my face already throbbing.
Back to my feet. One of the old ladies, a woman who must have been in her early fifties but could have been much older with skin that color and texture of old, worn leather, grabbed me hard by the hair. I yelped but I did everything I could to keep from driving my knee into her guts or using a jiu-jitsu lock to break all the bones in her hand.
She slapped me hard, knocking my head to one side and then the other. I felt something trickling out of my nose and down onto my lips. Blood.
“Dumb bitch…” she scowled and dragged me to the ground by my hair, practically tearing it out at the roots.
They surrounded me, starting to kick me hard, kick me from all sides. I covered my face and rolled up into a ball, as I knew to do from riot training. Blows rained down harder and faster on my head, my back, my legs, finding their way into my gut. I thought I might vomit when one particularly brutal one collided with my belly.
Somehow, I found my way to my feet. The men watching hooted and cheered. I guess they didn’t expect me to get up after that.
The old leathery one knocked me down again. I got up. She knocked me down again. I got up.
“Enough,” Fatman finally called up. “I think this bitch is going to outlast all over you.”
Through my tear and blood clouded eyes, I looked at them: the old ladies were panting, sweating. They weren’t used to the physical exertion of actual fighting, and certainly not in the hot Florida sun, even in the evening.
“Fang, get your bitch a beer—she’s earned it.”
Cheers went up. In a complete reversal from only a few minutes ago, I was suddenly surrounded by leather and female flesh, by the old ladies hugging me, holding me, cooing over me. It was the most bizarre turn around I had ever seen and I was at the center of it.
Gradually, they drifted away and the barbeque continued as if nothing had ever happened. I stood there, bruised, but alive and with all my teeth.
And there was Fang, with two beers.
“You look like hell,” he said with a grin.
“You’re not allowed to dump me now. Not after all this,” I shot back at him as he tossed me a beer. I cracked it open with my teeth and downed it all in one gulp.
This feat, a strange remnant of my college days, did not go unnoticed by the other bikers. More cheers. If I weren’t in before, I was definitely in now.
“Even that makes my skin crawl,” Fang said, shaking his head. I plucked his ice cold beer out of his hand and pressed it against my swollen eye.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Fang said, taking my hand.
“Shouldn’t we hang around and, you know—be social?”
“We need to talk about how this operation will develop. Now.”
“Now that I’m in?”
“Now that you’re in.”
We stalked our way down the beach. The sun was finally going down and the cool ocean breeze felt good on my brutalized skin. Christ, but I had taken a beating in the last few weeks.
“Fang’s gonna’ go let her suck him off for a reward,” someone yelled out. I flipped them off from behind. I felt like I was getting this thing down pretty fast.
We found a small collection of palm trees and picnic tables to sit down at. It could have been a real tropical paradise—if only the sounds of the biker party didn’t float down the beach.
“So, what’s next?” I asked, looking at him with all the triumph on my face that I felt I was due—namely, a hell of a lot. I had worked my way into this biker club, and if I could do this—I felt like I could do just about anything.
Fang leaned in and ran his hand behind my head. He brought our faces close.
“What are you doing?” I asked. He kissed me. I kissed him back. And I couldn’t stop.
FANG
I had fully been intending on talking about the operation. About how I knew Fatman wanted to make a run up to Atlanta in the next week and how Claire would go with me, and we would see if we could set up a sting with the Atlanta FBI office. It was perfect timing.
But all those thoughts fled my brain when the moonlight got caught in Claire’s hair, when her cutely triumphant smile flashed over her face, making even her bruises look sexy. I had to have her.
Damn the mission. Damn Fred. Damn it all to hell.
I was still alive for now. And I was going to live.
Her lips were soft, uncommonly soft, against mine. I suckled at her lower lip, even biting it as we broke apart, our eyes finding one another.
“What is this?” Claire whispered as she slid onto my lap, spreading her legs and wrapping them tight around my waist. My hard cock pressed viciously into her, like a hypodermic needle ready to pierce an addict’s flesh.
“This is the mission,” I whispered back, claiming her lips again. She gasped as I grinded my hips into her, pressing my electric hardness into her tight, jean-shorts-clad crotch.
“Is that all it is?” she asked, kissing me back, her lips hungry and passionate and desperate.
“Fuck if I know,” I growled, pinning her in between my crotch and the table, humping her like a wild dog as I kissed my way down over her hot, swollen, bruised flesh. I felt like an animal, a hungry beast finally able to eat. And I was ravenous.
“I want you so fucking bad,” Claire whispered back. My heart damn near skipped a beat. That’s what I needed to hear. What I wanted. What I ached for.
I suckled hard at her neck, leaving the kind of love marks that good girls aren’t supposed to want. But I was turning Claire into a biker girl. Into my old lady. She should be covered in my bite marks.
I stripped off her vest and tossed it into the sand. After that came her shirt. Claire reached her bare arms up around my neck as I kissed down over her breasts, teasing the plump, warm flesh with my teeth.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
And so I bit her. Hard. I dug my teeth into her flesh and she writhed beneath me, pressing her tits into my mouth, begging for more—for more ache, for more abuse, for more agony.
I reached down to my boot and drew a knife. A thin stiletto, not long, but razor sharp. Claire’s eyes widened and I felt her tense in my arms as it flashed bright silver in the moon.
I slid it effortlessly underneath her bra straps. Snip, snip, and her bra was off.
“Asshole,” she said, frowning with her lips but smiling with her eyes. I tossed her destroyed bra away, revealing her bare tits, revealing all the more of her gorgeously tattooed skin, so recently healed, revealing her pink little nipples with seemed to glow like beacons in the moonlight.
She ran her hands through my hair, pulling my face down to hers, kissing me, grunting into the kiss as I gripped her tits hard, squeezing her flesh, tweaking and twisting her nipples as I took broke the kiss and took one into my mouth. She gasped, writhing further beneath me as I suckled that hot little nub.
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��Please… Fang… Please…” she groaned as I dug my teeth into the flesh and pulled hard, her eyes closed in an expression of agony or ecstasy or both. “Please… Make me yours.”
I stood and began to unzip my pants.
“Get down on your knees,” I said with a vicious, dirty grin. “Time to learn what it means to be in the Damned.”
CLAIRE
This was unreal. I was more turned on than I had ever been in my life. Even though my entire body ached. Even though, only a few minutes ago, I was more likely to pass out than get amped up and ready to fuck. Even though… This wasn’t part of the operation.
But this was way more fun.
“Get down on your knees,” Fang said with the kind of evil smile that sent shivers up and down my spine and made my nipples tingle. “Time to learn what it means to be in the Damned.”
He unzipped his jeans, leaving me to do the rest. Biting my lip, I couldn’t help myself. I obeyed, kneeling half naked in front of him, my bare knees on the sand, reaching up to slid his boxers down, sliding his huge, throbbing manhood out of his pants.
“You know what to do,” Fang growled, reaching a hand behind my head and pulled my lips to his cock. God, but I loved the way he forced me—loved the way he treated me. I had never been the submissive type but with him, I wanted to be, wanted to be there for him—there on my knees.
He was massive, and I found myself blushing in spite of myself, in spite of everything we had been through, in spite of everything that might happen or had already happened. I brought my lips close to his cock and tentatively gave it a long, slow lick, starting at the base and moving along it, tracing his throbbing member, savoring the way he gripped my scalp, digging his fingers into my hair and pulling at it, savoring his desire as I took the head into my mouth, closing my eyes.
I swirled my tongue around once, twice, three times, memorizing the curvature, the structure of his turgid flesh. And then, finally, I engulfed him fully with my mouth, letting him drift past my lips and deeper, deeper, deeper.
“God… Goddamn…” Fang muttered, his hips jerking ever so slightly, his cock twitching in my mouth. “This is goddamned incredible.”
I felt him start to thrust into my mouth, driving himself into my throat. I took him deep with a gasp, burying my face into him as I serviced his cock, working my lips faster and faster, bobbing my head like a doll as my lips gripped him.
I was losing all sense of my self, of time, as I worked. I loved this, loved the way he felt in my mouth, the way he tasted, the way he just seemed to fit. One of my hands held him closer and closer, gripping his firm ass, driving him deeper into my mouth, while my other found its way to my own nipples, teasing them as I brought him closer and closer.
“Oh… Oh, fuck,” Fang finally moaned, his hips bucking. And suddenly, his cock was pulsing, twitching, pumping in my mouth. I closed my eyes and swallowed everything he gave me, giving the tip of his thick tool a soft kiss as I finished.
“I haven’t done that in a long time,” I murmured with a smile. “Not since… Not since Fred died…”
I felt Fang stiffen. God, had I just made things awkward?
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, we shouldn’t—“
“No!” I said, silencing him with my finger pressed to his lips as I stood. “No. We’ll think about things in the morning.”
He gave me a hard, stony look, a dark look, and then his lips were on mine once more, our tongues dueling, slurping.
He picked me up by my ass, gripping me tight as he all but tossed me onto the park table. I giggled as I landed and he hooked his fingers into the loops of my jean shorts, forcing them down along with the black thong I had picked out to go with my biker girl outfit, leaving me totally naked. Totally naked and totally vulnerable before him.
I shivered in the evening air, crossing my legs, feeling suddenly very shy. But he forced them apart. I gasped. He was hungry, I could tell.
He forced me back, and I felt his mouth starting down on my inner thighs, kissing and then biting and then kissing, licking and working his way up my flesh, getting closer and closer to my wet core but then skipping over it entirely to nibble at my belly and then to work down around my other thigh.
“Oh, god, don’t tease me like that…” I whimpered. “Please, Fang… Baby…”
There it was. I had called him baby.
I ran my fingers through his hair, practically massaging his scalp as he nibbled me, and then sucked hard, leaving what would surely be a deep, dark love mark on my thigh—the perfect addition to all the other bruises and marks I had sustained this evening, not to mention that tattoos I had received for this operation.
And then, finally, he came to my wetness. I could feel his hot breath drifting over my sex as he lingered in front of it, in front of the source of my arousal, my hot, needy core. He was teasing me something awful and I fucked loved every second of it.
Then, he began to lick slowly around the outside, not getting quite to my nether lips, just continuing his exquisite, torturous teasing. Finally, I bucked like a wild mare when I felt his tongue glide over my swollen flesh, rising up to my throbbing nub and teasing me ever so slowly, ever so deliberately and cruelly.
“Oh, god, god, god…” I squealed, gripping his hair hard, practically tearing it out. “Fang, it’s so good… Please… Don’t stop… Don’t you dare stop…”
I shuddered, my hips bucking again as he began to lash me with his tongue, starting at the bottom of my womanhood and flying up to my needy little nub before drifting back down and starting the ascent all over again. I squeezed my eyes shut, my hips clenching and unclenching, my entire body tightening and loosening around his tongue as he dipped it inside of me, tasting me, making me taste the air around us and beg for more.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I whimpered, sound like a pathetic little child, except for my obscenities. I might as well have been in some filthy porno from the way I was talking, but I loved every second of this and as much as I wanted him to finish me off, I never wanted it to end.
But finally, he focused all of his efforts on my throbbing little mound, working it harder and harder, faster and faster, swirling it at first and then flicking it up and down, up and down, up and down… It drove me crazy. Absolutely wild. It made me want to throw him down and ride him myself.
“Please, baby, please…” I groaned, pressing my hips up and into his hungry mouth. “Please, do it all to me… Please, don’t stop… Don’t stop…”
“You don’t want me to stop?” Fang asked teasingly, all the while flicking my soft spots still, only a little bit less intensely, his hot breath still blowing on my hungry flesh.
“No, no, no, never stop…” I groaned, thrusting my hips forward. “I don’t care what happens but don’t stop.”
I dug my nails into his skull as he slurped away at me and then, before I knew it, I was at the edge of my pleasure—and then careening over it. I squealed, shaking like a leaf in a storm as wave after wave of ecstasy surged over me.
“God… God… God…” I gasped hungrily, gasped desperately as I came down from my climax, every cell of my body screaming out for more, demanding more, even as my muscles twitched lazily.
Fang stood up, wiped the back of his mouth lazily, and stripped off his shirt. God, that body of his—sculpted and powerful, like the kind of ancient sculpture you’d find in a museum.
He leaned down over me and I wrapped my arms around his hard, powerful torso, feeling the rippling, burning hot muscles beneath his taut flesh. Just touching him made me go wild and I felt my hips start to rise, hoping to take him inside myself once more.
“Please, baby…” I moaned softly.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked seriously, those gorgeous eyes boring a hole into my soul as I felt his cock at my entrance, my wetness about to grasp him, about to take him inside of me, practically sucking him inside.
“God, yes…” I moaned, digging my nails into his hot flesh, feeling like I was about to go c
razy, like I would go mad if I didn’t get him inside of me. “I don’t care what happens. I need this, Fang, I need you.”
Apparently, that was all the encouragement he needed. He impaled me with a single, long thrust and I squealed, pressing my hips into him, shuddering in delight as his cock filled me up.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled in my ear, tugging at my ear lobe with his teeth. I shuddered in delight at the sudden pain of his teeth pressing into my soft, tender flesh.
“Just for you,” I groaned. “I’m your old lady now, after all.”