GHOST (Devil's Disciples MC Book 3)

by Scott Hildreth

  The contact, albeit small, pushed me over the edge of the cliff.

  Enough was enough. I was thirty-one years old, my days on earth were limited, and I was in the presence of the most attractive woman I’d ever seen. My arousal was natural. Whether I acted on my desires or not, there was no sense trying to hide it any longer.

  “Look,” I said, lifting my forearm. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to fuck you on that stupid chair. I’m not saying I want to do it, I’m just saying I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  Her gaze dropped to my bulge. Upon seeing it, her eyes shot wide. “This is dumb,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Let’s screw.” She motioned toward the chair. “On that.”

  “You said you needed to--”

  “You’re wearing jeans and a wife beater,” she said. “This is torture. I can’t take it anymore. My nipples are so hard they ache. I’m so wet it’s uncomfortable. I’m attracted to you because I’m attracted to you. What am I trying to prove?”

  “So, you’re okay with--”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “You want to--”

  She tugged against the hem of her shorts. “I do.”

  “I don’t want to force you to--”

  “Come here,” she said.

  I shook my head. “I can’t stand up.”

  She lifted the oversized leg of her shorts and nodded toward the opening she’d created. “Stick your hand in there.”

  I wasn’t about to argue with her. With my eyes locked on hers, I slid my hand along the inside of her thigh, from her knee to her pussy.

  She began to giggle like a teen.

  “Sorry,” she said, her face blushing as she spoke. “It’s been a while.”

  I smiled in return and continued. As the knuckle of my index finger bumped against her clit, she flinched and let out a moan. Her pussy was just as she said it would be. Soaking wet. It was also, much to my surprise, surrounded by hair.

  I grabbed her shorts by the waistband and pulled them away from her stomach. With the curiosity of a cat, I peered inside. A two-inch long vertical strip of hair as wide as my index finger was just above her otherwise perfectly pretty little pussy.

  “What the fuck is that?” I gasped.

  Her eyes shot wide. “What?”

  I nodded toward the trail of pubes. “That. It looks like a caterpillar is crawling out of your twat.”

  “It’s a landing strip,” she said matter-of-factly. “They’re popular again.”

  I took one last look for conversations sake, and then released the elastic waistband of her shorts. I had news for her. That shit was never popular in my eyes. It needed to be shaved off and shaved off quickly.

  Before I puked.

  I laughed until I vomited in my mouth. After swallowing a mouthful of pink wine and bile, I shook my head in disagreement. “You need to shave that shit off.” I chuckled. “Really.”

  “They’re coming back. They really are,” she said with a laugh. “By the end of the year, everyone will have one.”

  I burst into laughter, again. I couldn’t help it. When I finally caught my breath, I shook my head. “Everyone but you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I shouldn’t have believed that article, huh?”

  “What article?”

  She looked away. “In Cosmo. It said they were the new thing. The new old thing. It was like a jungle down there when we met. After reading that article, I trimmed it into that. I thought you’d like it.”

  “So, you’ve been planning this?”

  “Hoping.” She laughed. “I was hoping.”

  “Well,” I said. “I’m hoping you’ll shave that strip of nastiness off.”

  She looked at me. “Now?”

  “That’s my recommendation,” I said. “I’m not interested in getting hair stuck in my teeth.”

  “Oh, yeah. This thing’s coming off.” She leaped from the couch. “Right F-ing now.”

  After five agonizing minutes, the sound of her clearing her throat caused me to look up.

  “How’s this?” she asked.

  She was standing in the opening of the corridor that led to the bathroom. Wearing nothing but a grin, she pressed her hands to her hips.

  Awestruck by her naked beauty, I stared.

  “Well?” she asked.

  Her hair was disheveled and partially obscured her face, hiding one of her insanely sexy blue eyes. The other one looked right at me. Her breasts were small and perky. Upon seeing them, I decided everything about her was exactly the way I wanted it to be.

  My eyes dropped to her waist. Her pretty little pussy was as bald as the palm of my hand.

  “You look good enough to eat,” I said.

  She cocked her hip. “Are you hungry?”

  My first sexual experience with Abby was going to be a selfless act. I’d never had sex with the intention of satisfying anyone other than myself. I was eager to have Abby be my first.

  Certain there were going to be many firsts with Abby, I grinned and nodded. “I sure am.”

  13

  Abby

  Although I hadn’t tried it out yet, I’d purchased the chair in question with the sole intention of using it for sex. Eager to feel Porter’s skin against mine, I nervously walked the length of the living room.

  He rubbed the light scruff that had developed on his jawline over the last few days. When I stopped in front of him, he let out a long breath. “Jesus.”

  “What?”

  Starting at the floor, he took every inch of me in, slowly. When his gaze met mine, he smiled. “You’re perfect.”

  I worked hard to keep myself in shape, but there was nothing I could do about my teenage breasts. I’d been self-conscious about them since high school.

  I felt like covering them, but I didn’t. “I’m far from perfect.”

  “Turn around,” he breathed.

  I faced the bathroom.

  “No,” he said. “Turn in a circle. I want to see every inch of you.”

  I did a low-speed pirouette with my hands over my head, feeling self-conscious as my front side came into his view. I wished I had boobs, but not so much that I was ever going to alter my body. Porter needed to find a way to accept me as his flat-chested girlfriend.

  “You are…you’re fucking gorgeous.” He looked me up and down, taking his time to do so. “Come here.”

  I took a few hesitant steps.

  He slipped one hand behind my waist and pulled me into him. After spinning me in a semi-circle, he planted his lips against mine.

  Once again, the kiss transported my mind to another place. An existence not of this earth. As if I wasn’t already prepared to give myself to Porter, the kiss confirmed that something between us was special.

  The chemistry we shared during a kiss could not be denied, and I loved being reminded of it.

  He broke our embrace, placed his hands on either side of my face, and looked me in the eyes. “Beautiful.”

  An almost indiscernible thank you puffed from my lips.

  He looked me over. A worried look washed over him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I couldn’t believe he was second-guessing our decision to have sex. Prepared to fight for the dick that was rightfully mine, I lowered my hands and cocked my hip. “I haven’t had sex in six years,” I coughed. “You can either give it to me, or I’m going to take it.”

  “Not that. The relationship thing. With me. It’s just…you’re more beautiful than…” He took a long look at me. It appeared he was on the verge of tears. “You’re more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. You could be with any man on this planet. Are you sure you want to be with me?”

  The thought of sex excited me. But. I also wanted Porter. He was kind, had a dry sense of humor, and seemed to mesh well with my inability to retain my thoughts. If there was any doubt in my mind that he was the right man, it vani
shed after his confession of my beauty. I fought against the lump that was rising in my throat and nodded my head.

  “Take off your pants,” I said, my voice cracking from emotion. “I’ll show you how much I want to be with you.”

  Obviously as eager as I was to get started, he fumbled with his belt. In a moment, he carefully pushed his jeans past his rigid member. When the denim cleared the tip, the fleshy monster sprung free.

  I gasped. Not because it was oddly shaped. Or because it was shocking. It was shocking, but that wasn’t why I gasped. I gasped because I was in cock-heaven.

  His dick was so big it needed its own postal code.

  Unlike many women, I’m a true believer that bigger is always better when it comes to sticking things in my pussy. I’ve never been one to hope that my hips get dislocated from a sexual encounter, but I want to be as close to a dislodging a hip as I can possibly be, that much I know.

  Not knocking a hip out of socket with the schlong Porter was packing was going to take some precautionary measures. With my eyes glued to his rigid thickness, I rubbed my hands together feverishly. “Holy mother of all things dick related.”

  “You think it’s going to be alright?” he asked. “You’re like, tiny.”

  His stiff cock bounced when he talked. I wanted him to tell me a three-thousand-word story, so I could watch it, but there was no way I could wait that long. I needed that dick, and I needed it desperately.

  “Babies come out of these things,” I said excitedly. “We can make it fit, I know we can.”

  I had my doubts that it would fit, but I knew if we forced it long enough, it would eventually either slide in or rip me apart. I was beyond eager to feel it inside me, and I didn’t care what happened through the course of getting there. Porter would find out in time that I was kind of a weirdo when it came to sex, anyway.

  He tossed his wife beater into the pile of clothes that was gathering beside the white ergonomic chair. Now standing in front of me wearing nothing but a massive dick and a pair of socks, I got my first glimpse of Porter without a shirt on.

  Drool pooled against the inside of my lower lip.

  I was already horny. Blindingly so. After seeing his washboard abs and the two slabs of meat that made up his chest, I was horny and mesmerized by Porter’s beauty. I needed to say something. Not in an effort to be a copycat, or because of my sarcastic nature.

  His body was just…perfect.

  I pointed at him and wagged my finger up and down. “That is beauty. Dear God, you look divine.”

  He blushed. “Thank you.”

  I made Ghost Porter-Porter blush.

  He was human.

  Naked and horny, I could feel my heart beating between my legs. I was done with the small talk and ready to get down to business. Sexual business.

  “Where do you want me?” I asked.

  He gestured toward the chair. “Face down, on that weird chair.”

  I all but dove head-first onto the odd-shaped chair, hiking my ass high in the air. I had no idea how or where he wanted me, but something about the chair’s shape screamed face down-ass up, so that’s what I did.

  As I situated myself onto the soft leather, I felt Porter’s hands against my inner thighs. In response, I spread my legs wide enough to drive a truck through them. While I juggled the possibilities of fingers, dick, or a combination of both being poked into my willing cavities, I felt something soft and wet part my lower lips.

  I drew an uneven ecstatic breath as he forced his tongue deep into me.

  “Oh, God yes. Fuck me with your tongue,” I moaned.

  I was a natural dirty talker, saying what came to mind before I had a chance to stop myself from speaking. I hoped Porter was okay with my sexual banter, because stopping it was impossible.

  In an instant, he let me know by doing just as I asked.

  A jolt of electricity ran through me – from my clit to my painfully hard nipples. I flinched in ecstasy while his talented tongue traveled in and out of my wetness, teasing my deprived – and freshly shaved – pussy.

  In a matter of seconds my body shuddered, expelling its first orgasm. Porter sensed it, burying his tongue even deeper into my cavern of desire. Having him feed off my sexual bliss was a huge turn-on and made the peak of that orgasm wilder than anything I’d previously experienced.

  I collapsed from the climactic release, catching myself before I face-planted onto the chair.

  “Holy shit,” I gasped. “You’ve got a talented tongue.”

  “Your little pussy was made for licking,” he said.

  I felt his weight shift and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see him unrolling an oversized condom onto his rigid shaft. Giddy with excitement, I turned away, hoping to have his penetration be a complete surprise.

  He didn’t let me down. Not really, anyway.

  I felt his weight against the chair. Immediately following, the tip of his massive dick pressed against my opening. My mouth opened wide as he pushed his size X dick against my size Y pussy.

  Then, the pressure went away.

  “What are you doing?” I whined.

  He sighed. “You’re too tight.”

  It was the craziest excuse I’d ever heard. “Don’t be a pussy,” I fumed. “Force it in there.”

  “Did you just call me a pussy?” he asked.

  He didn’t sound overly angry, so I pushed a little more.

  “I did,” I admitted. “Because you were being one. I might be little, but I’m a big girl. Fuck me like one.”

  It was all the encouragement he needed. After positioning the head of his throbbing cock against my dripping wet slit, he did just as I asked. Five seconds later, I was ready to grab his wife beater from the floor and wave it high in the air in surrender. And then…

  Pop!

  His entire length, or so I thought, shot into me. When it did, all the air shot from my lungs. I gasped in delight and partially collapsed tits-first onto what was supposed to be the back of the chair.

  “You’re freaking huge,” I exclaimed.

  He chuckled a sinister laugh. “That’s half of it.”

  I closed my eyes. Thank you, Jesus.

  I clenched my jaw. “Give it to me.”

  Slowly, he began to push his weight against me. Inch by satisfying inch, he entered me until there was no more space. the tip of his dick was bottoming out against inner flesh I had no idea existed.

  I caught my breath. “Is that all of it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Relieved, I let out a breath in preparation of what was to come. “That’s good,” I said. “Because you just ran out of real estate.”

  He withdrew himself slowly, and then pushed the entire length back in. When he was halfway in, I felt myself contract. I couldn’t help it. Having him inside of me felt magical.

  “Are you having another--”

  “You’re going to have to be quiet I’m having an incredible orgasm right now and I don’t want to talk about it,” I blurted. “I’m sorry, this is so perfectly oh my God...”

  I lifted my head and smiled into the living room’s abyss. When the tip of his dick pressed against the bottom of what I always felt was a bottomless pussy, I sucked a breath.

  “Don’t move,” I groaned.

  Micro-orgasms shot through me like miniature shock waves, one after the other. After being pleasured by no less than a dozen, the mother of all orgasms began to build within me. I had no idea if a man could sense when he was preparing to climax – because I’d never asked – but I could sense when mine were coming.

  And the one that was en route would tilt the seismograph at a nine-plus on the Richter scale.

  His massive chest pressed against my back. feeling his weight against me was oddly comforting. I allowed myself to collapse against his weight, feeling small and powerless, which was a place I loved to be when having sex.

  He kissed my neck. There were a few things that drove me bat shit crazy, and kissing my neck was on
the top of the list. I moaned to let him know where I stood on neck kissing. Hearing that expressed satisfaction drove him to kiss and chew against my sensitive flesh from my shoulders to my earlobes.

  In a sexually-induced frenzy, and on the verge of a serious meltdown, my body tensed and released repeatedly.

  I felt his cock twitch. Then, I felt it swell.

  That little bit of movement was all it took. My pussy clenched him like a vise. He gave two quick full-length thrusts. His breathing began to sound labored. He gave two more thrusts.

  I arched my back and bellowed out my satisfaction for a job well done while the orgasm took control of my soul. My muscles seized. I pushed my weight against his, lifting the two of us from the surface of the chair I was quickly developing a loving relationship with.

  Then, he gave one last savage thrust.

  Amidst the smell of musky cologne, the climax came to a head, blasting my mind into outer space.

  Porter let out a blood curdling howl.

  When the screaming ended, I crumbled into a pile of very happy flesh. Porter came to rest at my side. Side-by-side we remained, silently admiring each other’s sweaty bodies.

  In the past, sex had been more of a mechanical act than anything. Insert dick and fuck hard – while taking time to pull hair, slap an open palm against my ass, bite me anywhere, or dig your nails into my flesh.

  When the sex ended, I always regretted the extremes I allowed myself to experience – all in hope of achieving an orgasm that was better than the last.

  Sex with Porter was the opposite. There was feeling involved. I felt the act on the outside. I felt constant bliss on the inside. The difference between what we shared and what I’d experienced in the past was vast.

  I had my doubts that I could ever go back to having someone simply fuck me. After thinking about it, I decided there was no freaking way.

  “If you leave me, ever, I’ll find you,” I said with a laugh. “I just want you to know that. I’ll be that crazy bitch that’s lurking outside your window with a butcher knife and a big rock.”

  He looked at me like I’d kicked his dog. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  “You ruined me.” I chuckled “I love how it feels to have you inside of me. I mean it. I F-ing love it. I was joking about the rock, though. Not the knife.”