Collectively, we were on the verge of a sexual meltdown. I wasn’t a slut by any means, but I did have some sexual issues, and I was well aware of them.
Having someone like Fisher in my life was a godsend.
But I was still a kinky mess.
With my eyes fixed on his crotch, I pushed my shorts down my thighs. “I’m not waiting for any furniture.” I gestured toward the kitchen. “Fuck me on that island. It’s kind of like furniture.”
“Seriously?”
“Look. I’m not going to lie. I’m a little kinky. I’d have fucked you in the street if you’d have let me.”
He let out a laugh and reached for his belt. “That’s good to know.”
I kicked my panties to the side and pulled my shirt over my head. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’d love to fuck you in the street.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I unclasped my bra. “I’ll get us kicked out of this neighborhood before we move in.”
He pushed his jeans to mid-thigh. As soon as the material cleared the tip of his dick, the entire length sprung free. My mouth fell open at the sight of his massive girth. His cock was as stiff as a stone, swaying back and forth as he struggled to get his jeans off.
I tossed my bra into the pile of clothes that was quickly gathering on the floor. When I looked up, he was standing in front of me, naked from the waist down. I wanted him to lose the shirt, but my aching pussy couldn’t wait another second.
I had my doubts that I could accept his entire length inside of me, but I wanted as much of it as I could manage – and, I wanted it rough. I didn’t want to be slapped around – or abused – but I wanted to be fucked, and fucked hard. I turned toward the kitchen, took a few steps, and then paused.
“Does that thing get bigger when it’s hard?” I asked over my shoulder, my tone thick with sarcasm.
I hoped the snide remark would force him to grudge fuck me.
“When it’s hard?” He shot me a glare. “It’s hard as a rock right now.”
“It looked kind of…” I gave a dismissive shrug and walked toward the kitchen. “…never mind.”
As I was climbing on top of the island, he came through the entrance and pressed both hands to his hips. “Never mind what?”
He was shirtless. His wide chest sat atop an extremely well-defined mid-section that came to a ‘v’ at his hips. His throbbing cock pointed skyward. His eyes expressed his aggravation with my comments.
Perfect.
“It just. I don’t know.” I let out a phony sigh. “I suppose it’ll do.”
He gripped it in his fist and stroked it a few times. “You suppose it’ll do?”
I struggled to remain straight-faced. My gaze fell to his rigid shaft. After a few seconds of watching him stroke it, I looked up. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure with a cock like that, you’re pretty creative, huh? You’ve got to be, right?”
In two long strides, he was at the edge of the island. Then, he snatched me off it, and lowered me to the floor in front of him.
His palm pressed firm between my shoulder blades. I obliged by bending over in front of him, lowering my chest to the cold surface of the granite island.
The breath shot from my lungs as he pushed a finger inside of me. I closed my eyes and tried my best to prepare for what was next.
He added another finger. As the length of his digits began to work their way in and out of my wetness, I opened my eyes and searched the room.
His chest pressed against my back. The warmth of his breath against my cheek caused me to tense.
“Let me see if I can get creative,” he whispered harshly.
He withdrew his fingers. The pressure from the tip of his oversized dick against my wet folds followed. My eyes shot wide, and my mouth fell open.
“Holy…”
“Holy what?” he whispered into my ear. “Holy creativeness?”
He pushed the head inside. And then, another inch or so.
I exhaled a choppy breath.
One thick inch after the other, he continued to push himself inside of me. When his balls pressed against my clit, I realized he’d given it all to me. Thrilled that I’d accepted every inch he had to offer, I opened my mouth wide, fully intending to say something memorable. Smart assed and snide, maybe, but memorable.
“Oh God,” I moaned.
So much for saying something noteworthy.
His hands gripped my waist firmly. In anticipation of what was sure to come, I drew a breath and waited.
Slowly, he withdrew his length. Then, he pushed himself inside of me until his tight scrotum was pressed against my clit. Out, and in, three very predictable times, he repeated himself. My eyelids fluttered in excitement as my entire body began to tingle at the anticipation of him doing it again.
But, he didn’t.
“I said I was going to wait to fuck you until my feet were planted firmly on the ground. I think they’re pretty firm, now,” he said flatly. “What do you think?”
Without further warning, he pounded his length into me with one forceful thrust.
The air shot from my lungs like a rocket.
He pulled against my waist as he pushed himself into me. His hips slapped against my ass with a thwack! Again, and again, he shoved me full of his thick cock. With each authoritative stroke, the air in my lungs escaped me, only to be replaced with a quick breath as soon as he withdrew himself.
“Yeah,” I gasped. “They’re pretty firm.”
He pounded himself in deep. “You sure?”
“Pretty firm,” I grunted.
He pulled his hips back and then slammed himself into me. “I want to be sure.”
“Yeah,” I said as I sucked in a breath. “You’re good to go.”
“With a cock this small,” he said mockingly. “It’s pretty important that my feet are firm on the ground. I need all the traction I can get.”
“I’d hate for you to just shove half of that little fucker in me.” I glanced over my shoulder. “So, yeah. Get those big feet of yours firm on that floor so you can give it all to me.”
I didn’t know if it was the cock remark, or saying that he had big feet, but whichever it was, it was enough to push him over the edge.
The fucking I got as a result of my snide remark was one unlike any that I’d ever received. I had no way of measuring time, but by my guess, it was thirty minutes of good, solid fucking.
Regardless of the time he spent teaching me a lesson, my legs went weak immediately preceding the orgasm that was mounting inside of me. Then, my leg cramped.
“Hold it, hold it,” I shouted. “Cramp, cramp, I’ve got a cramp!”
Lost in his rhythm, he didn’t budge.
“Holy fuck,” I begged, grabbing my thigh in the process. “Stop!”
He continued to pummel me with ten inches of cock, one thrust at a time, slamming my hips into the edge of the counter with each stroke.
Eventually, my cramp faded. Either that, or I simply got used to the pain. Maybe it was that it was replaced with an earth-shattering orgasm. One that all but caused me to go blind.
“Holy fuuuuuuckkkkk,” I groaned.
My entire body felt like it shattered into bits.
He held himself deep, pressing the base of his shaft against my throbbing nub. A tingling ran through me like a shock, taking with it my ability to reason.
And stand.
I all but collapsed on the floor in front of him. Half sitting and half laying on the floor at his feet, I looked up. Confused on all matters that pertained to what had happened, but fully aware that I’d been fucked senseless, I parted my dry lips.
I was going to apologize, and thank him for what he’d given me. We were truly cut from the same sexual cloth, there was no doubt.
I dragged my tongue along the roof of my dry mouth, preparing to speak. Just prior to doing so, I realized he was stroking his cock. I arched an eyebrow, and exhaled.
“Jesus.” I drew a long breath. “You just fucked m
e like a boss. I’ve never, and I mean never--”
A spurt of warm cum blasted against my face, preventing me from continuing. And then, another. And, another. The cum shower continued until he’d exhausted himself – and I was covered in his spunk.
“Holy fuck,” he said. “That was hot.”
I wiped the cum from my eye sockets, and looked up at him. “I thought my leg was going to give out. You didn’t hear me screaming about the cramp?”
“I heard you.”
I flung a handful of cum against his thigh. “Seriously?”
He looked at the cum, and then at me. “Yeah. I heard you.”
I wiped my other eye. “Why didn’t you stop?”
He shrugged. “When you’ve got a cock this small, you’ve got to be creative.”
I flung another palm of cum in his direction. “Asshole.”
“And, my feet are average. They’re an eleven.”
“Small dick, average feet, and a big head, huh?”
He folded his arms over his chest and glared at me. “You think I have a big head?”
“I think I like it when you’re pissed off at me, that’s what I think.”
“The big head remark just might get you fucked again,” he warned. “Before that cramp heals.”
I stood, wiped the remaining cum from my face, and looked at my hand. “Your head’s not big.” I looked up and smiled. “Not at all.”
He wiped the cum from his thigh and met my gaze. “Thank you.”
“It’s huge,” I said with a laugh.
And, I took off running for the back yard.
The back yard that doubled as a beach.
I’d never been fucked on a beach.
But, I was willing to give it a try.
Especially with a man who had a huge head, average feet, and a small cock.
Oh, and a heart as big as Texas.
EPILOGUE
Fisher
I took a burger off the grille and turned toward the deck. Anna sat between P-Nut’s wife, Joey, and Peyton, who was Crip’s wife. As she told the story of how she’d surfed from dawn until dusk, both the women listened intently.
I scanned the deck and found an empty seat beside Pee Bee, the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms.
I flopped into the chair and rested my plate in my lap. “What’s shakin’, motherfucker?” he asked.
“I’m sore from head to toe,” I said. “Surfed from seven until about an hour ago. That girl is a monster.”
He rubbed his beard for a moment, and then looked at me. “Thirteen hours?”
I swallowed the bite of burger I was chewing. “Yep.”
“Damn. She is an animal.”
“She’s a good woman,” I said.
He looked at the three women and gave a nod. “Sure seems to be.”
“So, what about this poker run coming up?” I asked.
“It’s a deal we do annually. From here to Palm Desert and back. It’s a fundraiser that was started in memory of Joey’s dad.”
“Oh, did he pass recently?”
“Not recently,” he said. “But memorably. You’ll learn all about him in time, Prospect.”
I didn’t care that I was forced to start at the bottom and work my way up. I made sergeant in the Marines in three years, which was unheard of. I was a great listener, good at following directions, and was respectful to those who gave me respect in return.
“Can’t wait to learn more about him,” I said.
“He was one of Hells Angels finest,” he said.
“Prospect!” Crip shouted.
I dropped my burger and jumped to my feet. “Yes, Sir?”
“Go get me a beer,” he said.
I took a few steps toward the cooler.
“Not one of those,” he snarled. “I want a fresh one. From the liquor store. In La Jolla.”
La Jolla was an hour ride away. Crip was busting my balls in hopes that I’d give up. That I’d say something smart-assed in return, or challenge him.
I wasn’t about to.
The brotherhood I had felt in the two months that I’d ridden with the Filthy Fuckers was second to none, Marines included.
“You’ve got it, Boss,” I said. “One La Jolla Budweiser, coming right up.”
I walked to the edge of the deck and gave Anna a kiss. “Sorry, gotta run to La Jolla and get Crip a beer.”
She looked at Crip, then at me, and rolled her eyes. “Okay.”
“Where you headed?” Cholo asked.
“La Jolla,” I said. “For a beer.”
“Hell, I’m game,” Cholo said.
“Fuck it,” P-Nut said. “I’ll roll to La Jolla with ya.”
“La Jolla?” Smokey asked. “Shit, that’s a nice little run. I’m in.”
“If you fuckers are going,” I’m going,” Pee Bee said.
Tate jumped up. “I’ll roll with ya.”
“Fuck you guys,” Crip snarled. “I’m staying here.”
“Nobody invited you, asshole,” P-Nut said.
Each of the men gave their wives a kiss, and we saddled up. As the six of us rode through the neighborhood in half-assed formation, Crip came blowing past us, taking his spot at the front of the pack.
He tried to play the part of an asshole, and to most, it was believable. As far as I was concerned, he was simply doing his job.
For the time being, I’d do whatever he told me. In time, I’d be a patched in member, and the men would be my true brothers.
Until then, I’d enjoy every moment I was able to ride with them.
We approached a traffic signal just before the freeway entrance. Pee Bee rolled to a stop at my side.
“When you going to pop the question?” he asked over the sound of his exhaust.
“I was thinking tomorrow,” I said.
He nodded. “Decided how you’re going to do it?”
“Thought I’d do it on the poker run, around all the fellas. You’re the only family I’ve got. It’ll be like an engagement party.”
He gave a nod as the light turned green. “We’ll make sure it’s an event she never forgets.”
So far, every moment with Anna had been memorable. I had no reason to believe our engagement would be anything but the same.
And, if the Filthy Fuckers were involved, there was no doubt it’d be just that.
Memorable.
READ THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES
PRIDE: Scott Hildreth
GREED: Geri Glenn
SLOTH: Max Henry
WRATH: Gwyn McNamee
ENVY: Kerri Ann
LUST: FG Adams
GLUTTONY: M.C. Webb
ALSO BY SCOTT HILDRETH
The Filthy Fuckers Series
Biker MC Romance
Book One: Hard
Book Two: Rough
Book Three: Dirty
Book Four: Rigid
Book Five: Nuts
Book Six: Thick
Spin Off: His Rules
The Selected Sinner Series
Biker MC Romance
Book One: Making the Cut
Book Two: Taking the Heat
Book Three: Otis
Book Four: Hung
Book Five: Ex Con
Book Six: Money Shot
Book Seven: Hard Corps
The Undefeated Series
Boxer Romance
Book One: Undefeated
Book Two: Unstoppable
Book Three: Unleashed
Book Four: Unbroken
The Bodies, Ink & Steel Series
Tattoo/Biker Romance
Book One: Blurred Lines
Book Two: Pretty in Ink
The Mafia Made Series
Mafia Romance
Book One: The Gun Runner
Book Two: The Game Changer
Book here: The Good Boss
The Baby Girl Series
Erotic Romance
Book One: Ruined
Book Two: Owned
Book Three: Loved
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Standalone Books
Brawler
Dick
Fuck Buddy
Karter
Three Fold
Finding Parker
Broken People
Snatch
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Scott Hildreth was born into this world early and plans on leaving late. Between his arrival and departure, he has written forty novels and has every intention of writing many more.
Despite falling in love with his wife, Jessica, late in life, Scott professes to be an authority on the subject of love, and his writing is a reflection of this belief.
His preferred careers of being a biker, military hero, mafia boss, boxer, vigilante, and tattoo artist will always be favorites, but as writing has become a full-time gig, he must live vicariously through the characters in his books who share his admiration for these professions.
You can keep up with Scott’s self-published and traditionally published work here:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2wU5wZw
Twitter: @ScottDHildreth
Facebook “Clubhouse”: https://www.facebook.com/groups/scotthildrethfans/
Facebook: www.facebook.com/ScottDHildreth
Facebook Author Page: www.facebook.com/sdhildreth
Goodreads Author Page: www.Goodreads.com/ScottHildreth
Website: www.scotthildreth.com
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