HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  And that wasn’t the case.

  Not at all.

  “This back yard is amazing,” I said as I shifted my eyes around the yard.

  The back yard at Vince’s mother’s house was huge and had been landscaped professionally. The home being built on three lots left a yard three times wider than the other yards on the block, but it had the same depth.

  There was a large waterfall in the center decorated with limestone rocks that trickled down into a small pond, and the pond was filled with fish. A path from the pond in each direction led to the back side of the yard, each path taking a different route, but meeting at a large gazebo which was placed on a concrete patio.

  The distance between the back of the home and the gazebo was slightly sheltered by the waterfall, but able to be openly viewed to each side by anyone in the corners of the yard, or the neighbors.

  The perimeter of the yard was decorated by a flower garden and various small trees, which I suspected were Japanese Maples. I knew very little about flowers or landscaping until Vince and I broke up, and only then did I use gardening as an outlet. Seeing the magnificent yard was breathtaking, but it left me sad for Vince’s mother, who I was quite sure had the work done with the hope of filling it with her children.

  Children she was never blessed with.

  “I like what you did with your yard. It looks nice,” he said.

  “It’s okay,” I said, shrugging my shoulders as I continued to look around.

  “Come here,” he said as he walked toward the gazebo.

  He was dressed in jeans, a white tee shirt, and his boots. I lagged behind him intentionally as he walked away, just so I could watch him walk. Something about a man in jeans and a perfectly clean white tee shirt had always made me weak in the knees. As he stepped onto the platform of the gazebo, he turned to face me and grinned.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I like that dress,” he said.

  I typically didn’t wear dresses, but Vince had bought me the dress to wear for our dinner. It was the anniversary of his father’s death, and it just so happened the day fell on a Sunday. Instead of mourning, he and his mother had a ritual of celebrating, which I thought was pretty ingenious.

  Vince, Emily, Jackson, Axton, Avery, and I had all come for dinner, and as they were all inside talking to Anita, Vince and I were taking a quick tour of the yard. It was nice to see Vince opening up to the other Sinners, and I especially liked Axton. He was pretty mean looking, but he was like a father to Vince, and even though he was extremely intense and seemed to be harsh at times, he always had Vince’s best interest at heart.

  “Well, you bought it,” I said.

  He glanced over each of my shoulders, toward the back of the house. After seeing what I expected he wanted to, he pointed to the wooden table in the center of the gazebo.

  “Bend over and pull it up,” he said as he motioned toward the table.

  I turned toward the house. I couldn’t see the back door, but I could see everything beside it, including the windows I knew were in the dining room.

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked as I turned to face Vince.

  He shook his head, folded his arms in front of his chest, and glared. “Do I look like it?”

  “We’re in the yard. And we’ve got to get in there to eat in a minute,” I said.

  The thought of doing it was a huge turn-on, but actually doing it was another story. As he stood and continued to glare at me, I felt myself getting wetter with each passing second. After what seemed like forever, but was realistically a few seconds, I couldn’t take it any longer.

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  With his arms still folded in front of his chest, he nodded his head once. “I want to finger your little pussy.”

  With my back facing the house, and the waterfall directly behind me, I was protected from the view of anyone at the back door, but the remaining ten windows in the house had a clear shot at what we were doing. If there was anyone in the great room, dining room, upstairs bedrooms, or bathrooms, they would see everything.

  All in all, it was perfect.

  I walked to the table, bent over slightly, and flipped the dress over my hips.

  “No panties,” he said as he ran his hand along my inner thigh.

  “Nope,” I responded, my legs twitching in response to his touch.

  I felt his finger penetrate me. After sliding it in and out of my dripping wet pussy a few times, he obviously added another finger. I bit my lower lip and began to moan at the pressure of both fingers being forced deep inside me. As I pressed my chest onto the top of the wooden table, I lifted myself onto my tip-toes.

  Either from intending to do so or by accident, and I didn’t really care which it was, the tips of his fingers were rubbing my g-spot each time he pushed them deep inside of me. I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side, resting it flat on the table, and allowed myself to relax onto the heels of my feet.

  “Holy shit that feels good,” I said softly.

  And it did. My love for Vince and his desire to please me made me perpetually wet for him, but being in the back yard while everyone prepared for dinner was book boyfriend dream land for me.

  Within what seemed like seconds, but was more than likely minutes, I began to tingle from head to toe.

  “Come on, Sienna,” he breathed into my ear.

  Just shut up and keep going.

  “Come on, babe,” he breathed.

  Shut up. Just…hit…that…spot…again…

  “Come on, do it,” he said.

  Please, be quiet.

  His fingers continued to massage my g-spot, and I did my best to filter out his requests to have me come. I was almost there.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” I heard his mother shout.

  I opened my eyes, fully expecting to see her. Still sheltered by the waterfall, and out of view of the door, I was safe. I closed my eyes, and realized my heart was beating ten-fold of what was normal.

  A few more strokes of his fingers, and my breathing was louder than anything else in the yard. I raised myself onto my toes, lowered myself, raised up again, and relaxed.

  “Oh holy fuuuuuuuck…”

  I collapsed onto the table and gasped for my next breath.

  The faint sound of what I thought was his zipper was followed by his hand pressing on my back. Him fingering me in the yard was one thing, but him fucking me was another. If he thought for one minute that I was going to let…

  I inhaled a slow breath as I felt the pressure of his massive cock slide inside of me. As it reached bottom, I exhaled and grabbed the edges of the table in my hands. As I held the table firm in my hands, I turned and looked his direction over my shoulder.

  His jeans were around his thighs, and his perfectly pressed white tee shirt was all bunched up around his mid-section. I felt like I should protest, and really didn’t think fucking in his mother’s back yard in the evening sun was the best idea I had ever heard, but it wasn’t necessarily the worst, either.

  Without speaking, I sighed, turned around, and held the table tight.

  It must have been all the confirmation he needed.

  He began to fuck me. Not the type of fucking he had given me in the past when he really wanted to prove a point or show me who was boss. Not like the day he drove the couch into the wall, or the evening he fucked me across the living room carpet until he had scabs on his knees and my ass was covered in carpet burns.

  Not like that.

  But a good, solid, steady, deep, predictable stroke.

  The kind of stroke a girl can get lost in feeling. The kind of stroke only the right man can give; a man with a big, thick, long cock.

  The slow stroke that allows a girl to feel every inch of the shaft as it slides in, and every inch of it as it slides out, almost counting the inches with each stroke, anticipating feeling the rim as it passes the lips each time. The stroke that is so predictable she can bite her lower lip just before the head bottoms out, b
ecause it’s impossible for every inch of that big thick cock to penetrate her fully.

  Yeah, that stroke.

  “Fuck yes,” I grunted as he fucked me. “Right there, that’s it.”

  His hands gripped my waist, and pulled me back ever so slightly as he pushed himself into me. As he pulled his hips back, he pushed me with his hands, making sure his cock slid right to the point of tickling my pussy lips.

  He continued to fuck me in the same manner until my head was spinning and I was close to reaching my second back yard orgasm.

  “You two coming in?”

  I opened my eyes, recognizing the voice as Axton’s. Vince didn’t change his pace or slow his stroke, but kept fucking me as if nothing was going on. Although I really couldn’t hear our breathing, our skin touching, or his grunting, everything seemed to be amplified now, and I could hear everything.

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  Shit, he’s getting closer.

  Vince’s cock continued to slide inside of me, slide out, and slide back in. The same pace, the same intensity, and the same great fucking feeling.

  Fuck it.

  I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip. The thought of Axton walking around looking for us was weird, but with my eyes closed, it really didn’t matter. Strangely, I felt comfort in not knowing where he was or what he was seeing, but while Vince was fucking me, I imagined Axton standing behind the waterfall watching Vince fuck me.

  And I liked it.

  I clenched my eyes tight and focused on the feeling of his thick cock.

  “Food’s ready.”

  Yeah, so am I.

  A few more strokes and I was done. My pussy began to clench around his cock and I felt him begin to swell inside of me. His rhythmic thrusting continued as his hands gripped my hips a little tighter, and I felt my muscles begin to tighten.

  I lifted myself onto my tip-toes and held it for a second…

  And relaxed.

  The intensity of my orgasm was beyond anything I had ever experienced with Vince or alone. I felt as if my head exploded as he held his cock deep inside of me. For a few seconds of heightened hypersensitivity, I could feel his cock throbbing inside of me.

  Eventually, my climax lessened and I opened my eyes.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered as I turned and glanced over my shoulder.

  Vince slowly pulled his cock from inside of me and started to stroke it rapidly.

  “What are you…”

  He raised his left hand to his lips. “Shhh. Watch.”

  With his jeans around his thighs and his wrinkled shirt dangling at the base of his cock, he jacked it like his life depended on it. Watching him stroke his cock was something I always wanted to see, and seeing it was quickly exceeding my expectations.

  Within a few seconds his breathing increased and he leaned back onto his heels.

  “Oh fuck,” he sighed.

  And he began to erupt.

  Cum spurted out of the tip of his cock, landing six feet away onto the concrete deck Another spurt, this time landing a few feet away, followed by a third, landing at his feet.

  Holy fuck that’s hot.

  He opened his eyes and grinned.

  “You didn’t…” I whispered as I nodded my head toward his waist.

  He shook his head. “I wanted you to see what you do to me.”

  I tugged at the bottom of my dress, attempting to minimize the wrinkles and the soon to be asked questions.

  “That was fucking hot,” I said.

  He pulled up his jeans, buckled his belt, and did his best to make his shirt look neat.

  “Come on before we get in trouble,” he said as he walked past me.

  I glanced down at the puddles of cum on the concrete. “Uhhm, what about all that? Someone will slip and fall.”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  I shrugged mine and followed him into the house.

  Everyone was standing around the table talking.

  “Glad you could make it,” Axton said.

  “We were just taking a tour,” Vince said.

  I grinned at Avery and immediately felt guilty, so I shifted my eyes to the table.

  “Been talking to Otis?” Axton asked.

  I glanced up. Axton’s eyes were fixed on Vince’s.

  “Who’s Otis?” I asked.

  Axton shifted his eyes toward me. “He’s one of the fellas. His Ol’ Lady’s got a flower garden and gazebo just like what’s out there. They sure like it.”

  I nodded my head and grinned. Axton shifted his eyes back to Vince and smiled. “They use it a lot. I was just wondering if ol’ Vince here had been talking to Otis about it. Maybe getting a few pointers.”

  Axton chuckled and turned to face me.

  “So how you doing, Kid?” he asked.

  “Good,” I said.

  “I bet you are,” he said with a nod. “I bet you are.”

  Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-Seven

  VINCE

  If I ever felt like something was important enough to be important, it was pretty damned important.

  “I told you once, I don’t think I should just have to keep repeating myself,” I said.

  “Well, that is a sketch made on a note pad. A sketch. It’s not a precision drawing, and…”

  I was done listening to this asshole, and was about ready to either beat the living shit out of him or go elsewhere.

  “What you think because I’m a fucking biker I’m some dumb fuck?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “That’s not an accurate statement.”

  I pointed toward the drawing and tossed my hands in the air. “I didn’t draw that fucker with a crayon; I drew it with an architect’s pencil. That, that right fucking there, that’s what I want.”

  “Very well. Identical to what is depicted?” he asked.

  I nodded my head. “Exactly.”

  He glanced at the drawing, shook his head from side to side, and sighed heavily. “But, the dimensions, it’s not drawn to scale, and it’s…”

  “Who says it’s not drawn to scale?” I asked.

  “Well, I assume based on the disproportionate nature, and the sheer size of the…”

  “Just. Like. The. Fucking. Drawing,” I said flatly.

  He picked up the paper, nodded his head, and shifted his eyes toward the parking lot where I had parked my bike.

  “And, the manner in which you’ll resolve payment?” he asked.

  I reached inside my cut, pulled out a banded stack of hundred dollar bills, and flopped it onto the edge of the counter.

  “Cash. That ought to get you started,” I said.

  He picked up the bills, flipped through them, and grinned. “It certainly will.”

  “Your name?” he asked as he picked up a clipboard.

  I pointed to the drawing, shifted my finger toward the money he held, and nodded my head.

  “Name’s Vince, that’s it. No phone number, no address. I’ll be back in a week,” I said.

  “The pleasure’s mine, Mr. Vince,” he said.

  “Exactly like the drawing,” I said.

  He glanced down at the drawing, nodded his head once, and grinned. “It will be.”

  And as far as I was concerned, that was all that mattered.

  Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-Eight

  SIENNA

  There should come a time in every girl’s life when she feels she can safely exhale. At least that’s what I had always believed. I doubted each and every girl on the earth reached that point, and the thought saddened me that some didn’t, but I did.

  And I was grateful when the day finally came.

  “I had no idea there were carriage rides in Old Town,” I said.

  The man driving the carriage was actually wearing a top hat, which was pretty cool in my opinion. The carriage was white and rather ornate, with carvings along the sides and on the armrests. The seats were red velvet and quite comfortable for a wooden carriage. As the man whipped the reigns up and down the C
lydesdale horses picked up the pace slightly.

  We’d been in the carriage for thirty minutes, taking a tour of Old Town in downtown Wichita. Vince had spent the entire time checking his watch, so I realized he must have had other plans, but I had no idea what they were.

  The evening was perfect, and for Kansas in the fall, rather enjoyable. It was just under sixty degrees, the dark sky overhead was filled with stars, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. As we sipped our hot apple cider, the carriage came around the corner.

  “The Keen Kutter building,” the man said as he motioned toward the brick building on our right side.

  Vince checked his watch.

  “Built in 1906 by Wurster Construction, the building was used by Keen Kutter until the early 1920’s when Winchester Arms merged with Keen Kutter to utilize…”

  Vince checked his watch again.

  The carriage slowed down slightly, and the sound of the horse’s hooves slapping against the brick street became almost musical. I took a sip of cider and gazed off to the left at the renovated one hundred year old buildings that had been developed into housing, eateries, and bars.

  Vince checked his watch.

  I shook my head and turned to the side and watched as two people walked by hand in hand, probably on their way to the wine bar half way down the block. It was almost midnight and the bars were all that was really left open. I shifted my eyes toward the front of the carriage, only to see that Vince had moved to the seat in front of me.

  The carriage seated six people, and Vince had rented the entire carriage to give us privacy. Although he had been seated at my side all night, he obviously got bored and moved.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and leaned forward.

  “Sienna, I can say this without hesitation,” he said. “You are the only woman I have ever loved. I know that now, I know it.”

  “Awwe, thank you,” I said as I leaned forward and kissed him.