What She Wanted
Page 5
“Play with it, Kym. Show me what you want me to do when I get in there.”
She immediately stuffed four fingers into her slit, and began savagely stroking her pussy; in and out, faster and slower, moaning and grunting. She was getting wetter and hornier. He gripped her clit between two fingers and slowly replaced her fingers with his dick. He burned his way inside until he hit her sugar walls on all sides.
Slow burn ran through her as Diesel lit the fire, and replaced the pain with a sweet pleasure as he worked his way slowly back and forth. Then like a crazed fiend, he began pounding in her afterlife, digging deep into her organs as the first orgasm hit her and she came all around him. Diesel slid out and dove headfirst into her dripping pussy, and sucked her cum as it ran down to her anus. He licked and sucked until Kym thought she was dry, and then she came again.
With a fresh burst of liquid rain, Diesel was back in her pussy until she felt his balls slapping up against her ass and tantalizing her back hole.
“Diesel, this shit feels so fuckin’ good, baby. Don’t stop! Don’t stop, convict! I’m cummin’ again. Cum wit’ me, convict,” Kym said.
“Kym, you bitch, I love you…aaargh …you bitch, P.O,” Diesel moaned.
“Whose dick is this, convict? Whose dick is it? Say my name, nigga!”
“K…k…ym,” this nigga stuttered. Diesel let out a long, low groan and pumped his life into her. “Damn, bitch!”
“Get it right, nigga.” Kym adjusted under him. “Don’t lean, nigga. I’m a delicate flower of a righteous bitch. I can’t take the weight of ya heavy ass.”
“Damn, K…k…ym,” this nigga stuttered.
“What happened to my facial, Smythe?”
He sighed and rolled down her body. His tongue met his cum as it pooled out of her gaping pussy. He slid back up and wet her face with himself, again and again until she was covered in his little soldiers. Kym smiled in the dark. You couldn’t tell a bitch that her face wasn’t benefiting from Diesel’s weekly facials.
***
Satisfied with her latest fuckfest, Kym walked out of Diesel’s apartment at 2:00 am with a slight limp and a confident smile. Damn, she had it all! She ran around the back of the row home to her Charger parked out back. Preparing to chirp the alarm off, she couldn’t have been more stunned to see her so-called friend, Special Investigator Tracy Johnson, with a warrant in her hand, swarmed by Philly’s finest and Rick Brooks.
“Kymber Devers, you are under arrest for …” She tuned the rest of the Miranda Rights out, as the roaring in her head drowned out the Investigator’s voice.
For a second Kym blacked out, and was preparing to shoot her way out of whatever Tracy and Rick thought they were doing to her. She instinctively reached for her Glock, which was usually posted on her right hip. Shit, she didn’t have her County issued weapon. She had never found her 9mm, and had been so dick whipped lately, that she’d reported it stolen and stopped asking Diesel and Kuron about it.
“Put your hands up, Devers!” Tracy Johnson screamed at her like she was on probation.
That bitch! She was probably back with Rick, and now wanted to ruin my life again. She turned toward Tracy and unsteadily moved in on her.
“Don’t you fuckin’ move, Devers!” Tracy demanded.
Tracy drew her County issued Glock, and set her sights on Kym Devers, prepared to blow her midsection out with a hollow tipped 9mm bullet from such a close distance.
“Kymber, don’t do it!” Brooks shouted, watching Kym commit suicide as she kept moving in on Johnson.
He felt a torrent of emotions come over him as he watched his nemesis trying to kill herself. Without thinking, he rushed Kym and tackled her into the trashcans lining the sidewalk. Death would be too easy for her. She needed to pay back society for her desperate deeds, and he would see to it himself. Brooks had already been to Kym’s house, and removed the tapes and his bottle of Viagra. She was too cocky with her extortion, and he easily found everything in a desk cabinet.
Just because he was feeling particularly nasty, Brooks picked himself up off her and snatched her own black cuffs off her waist and jammed them on her wrists. Her face was peeling, and she looked horrible up close. What had he ever seen in her nasty ass? He could only imagine what she had been doing with Smythe before she came outside.
Brooks turned her over to Johnson and dusted off his Brooks Brothers suit. He walked over to the car and gave Agent Serrano, fresh out of Graterford, a firm shake. Kym was a stupid whore who’d been set up the entire time.
“Sorry you had to endure Devers, Serrano. I know you just loved sitting in the State Penitentiary for two weeks. Don’t worry, the office will make it up to you. We all should sue the bitch after the criminal courts are done with her,” Brooks said.
He laughed and sauntered over to Tracy. There might be a chance after all between them again. He watched her hand Kym over to Philly’s finest, who would transport her to the Round House at 8th and Race before transporting her to Muncy.
“Tracy, do you want to have breakfast after we finish our paperwork and finalize the reports?” Brooks asked.
He could just imagine his eleven inches digging her back out like he used to. His soldier stiffened and started standing to attention at the thought of her dark chocolate booty all over him again.
“Rick, you probably should have let me kill her,” Tracy said.
“What?” he asked.
“The lieutenant will want to speak to you about the Jaguar you purchased for Kym last year. We also have the Black Card invoices and bills for the last year as well.” Tracy thought about how he broke her heart earlier in the year while he was fucking that crazy whore. “It could’ve been all over once she was dead. I was about to make sure of that.”
“What?” Brooks was speechless.
“Yeah, we’ll definitely need to talk later, after the reports and paperwork. I’ve never had a Jaguar or Black Card. We can make this all go away, or it can start all over again.” She touched his cheek. “You feelin’ me?”
Meet the Author
Storm
STORM is a thirty-something free-lance writer and editor from Philadelphia. A single mother of two boys, she brings a sophistication and street-wise love of language to contemporary urban fiction. STORM is the author of Eva: First Lady Of Sin, Eva: First Lady Of Sin II, Den Of Sin and has attended universities in Virginia and Pennsylvania and holds a Bachelor’s of Arts Degree in English. Over the past 12 years she has lent her literary talents to a host of writing and editing projects for small businesses and corporations.
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