MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 5

by Bink Cummings

  I hook a come-hither finger. “Less thinking, babe. More doing.”

  Five words and a single gesture is all it takes for my man to snap out of his funk and dive face-first into his favorite treat. There’s no hesitation, no room for unnecessary words. He lets his tongue do the talking and what a beautiful poem it creates.

  Big lashes my clit, aching to devour me, to fulfill both our desires. So that’s what he does… he takes, and he takes—swirling and sucking on that bud until my toes curl and I’m on the brink of losing my mind. A violent shudder washes over me. Pulling a single breath becomes difficult as he consumes my center, growling and feasting like a beast. Two fingers thrust inside my channel. I wail through the torrent of pleasure that blazes like wildfire through every cell. But he doesn’t relent. Not for a second. Those digits curl, coaxing my G-spot. My pulse thunders in my throat, my temples, ears. Everything coalesces into a singular spot that beats with the power of a thousand drums.

  Then, I’m coming. Hard.

  “Fuuuck! Big!” My elbows give out, back falling to the bed as I writhe, screaming through white-hot rapture. He holds me down, arms wrapped underneath my thighs as the current of ecstasy ebbs and flows, only to crash ashore once more when his mouth attacks my clit with renewed vigor. Needing something to hold onto, I grip his hair, nails biting into his scalp as I thrust against his face, desperate for something… anything…

  With a hoarse gasp, Big wrenches his lips from my pussy. “Fuck, Sugar Tits,” he pants, wiping his damp forehead against my inner thigh to rid the sweat that’s gathered there.

  “More.” I shove his face back where it belongs.

  He chuckles at my insistence, then gives me exactly what I desire.

  Thank God.

  I hiss a throaty “yesss,” as his lips encompass my clit.

  Taking his job seriously, Big seizes control, and that’s all she wrote. Two orgasms turn into three, then four, and by the eighth, I can no longer see straight. Monosyllabic mumblings of my love for him pour like rich maple syrup from my lips as I thrash on the bed, held down by the magician himself.

  Number nine explodes like a box of Acme dynamite. My back jackknifes off the mattress, breasts jiggling as they heave toward the ceiling. I dig my heels into Big’s shoulders, cursing his unrelenting mouth through the onslaught.

  Time ceases to exist.

  Breath freezes.

  Heartbeat thunders like the hooves of a million horses.

  Then, as fast as it came, my climax fizzles, giving way to a warm blanket of contentment. My shoulders collapse against the comforter. I groan, head lolling to the side in exhaustion, eyelids fluttering between open and closed.

  No more. I can’t take it. Not another one.

  Starved of oxygen, I draw in a lungful of air, only to expel it just as quickly. Sweat beads on my brow. Every inch of my skin’s over sensitive, muscles twitchy.

  Giving me a chance to rest, Big swipes his tongue through my folds, careful not to send me into a convulsing frenzy. “I love you so much,” he whispers to my core like she’s a person; his breath bathing the most sensitive parts of me with its balming heat. She loves him too, and would tell him as much if she could speak.

  Big’s ministrations trail lower as he pushes my legs up to sample my untouched rosebud. The sensation’s foreign, but not unwelcome.

  Around and around he teases the hole as a beastly rumble of delight vibrates in his chest. Seizing the moment, he flicks it with his tongue and pokes the center to breach the outer ring. I moan lightly, enjoying the sensation for it overshadows the throbbing in my hypersensitive clit.

  “Big?” I croak, combing my fingers through his now messy hair, body nearly bent in half.

  “Humm?” He scoops inside a fraction, and I relax enough to let him explore, not wanting to deter his… fun. He deserves this after all he put up with tonight, even though he detests the holidays.

  “Wh—” My voice cracks. I swallow and cough to clear my scratchy throat. “Whenever you’re done with that, I want you inside me.”

  A finger joins his tongue, pressing in deeper, just past the ring. It burns the tiniest bit, but damn if it doesn’t feel good. My head tips back, neck elongating as I expel a breath to stave off a moan.

  “You have the prettiest ass, babe. I’m gonna get you nice and ready.”

  “For what?” I brush the backs of my fingers across his sweaty forehead, adjusting to the intrusion.

  Big looks up long enough for me to see his face. “The plug.” His lips are swollen and a bright cherry red as they capture my soul with that breathtaking smirk of his. The one that promises all the dirtiest things in the world. Sweet Jesus, why’s that so hot?

  “What plug?” I ask.

  Those baby blues glitter with sin. “The one you got for Christmas.”

  “You want me to wear that plug?” My hole clenches around his digit at the thought. I’ve never done that before. A small part of me is scared to try it, but the mischievous side is beyond thrilled.

  “Not want, Sugar Tits. Gonna.”

  I shiver. “A… a plug.”

  “Yeah. A plug, in this sweet little hole.” To emphasize his statement, Big pushes his finger to the furthest knuckle, deep inside my ass.

  Oh… Dear… Fuck…

  My eyes tip back into my skull as I fist the comforter on either side of my body, molars clamping down.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Right. In. Here.” Spitting on my hole to use as lube, Big fingers me there, slow and steady. Every nerve ending flares to life in places I didn’t know existed. We may play this way from time to time, but it’s rare and never the sole focus. Not like this. Not with him worshiping that forbidden passage.

  Keeping the pace, Big moves around on the bed. The scrape of a drawer is opened and pushed closed. There’s a snick, then refreshing coolness of liquid as it drizzles alongside his digit. He works the wetness inside, coating every inch. A second finger is added with ease. I moan this time, unable to control it, or the pleasure he evokes from places I didn’t know could feel this good.

  “Big.” I reach for him as he kneels between my legs, holding them up to keep me exposed. Taking my hand into his, Big kisses the back with the sweetest kiss before he hooks my arms behind my knees. They touch my shoulders, feet pointing straight in the air, lower back lifted off the mattress.

  “There, babe. Hold ’em just like that.”

  I comply with a nod.

  He reaches for the plug that’s close to my head and removes his digits from my ass, only to replace the emptiness a moment later with the tip of the toy.

  “Push out as I push in,” Big instructs.

  As uncomfortable as it is, I listen. The rubber stretches my slick hole wider and wider, wedging itself into my virginal back door a little at a time. Big’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, attention focused on the task at hand. Those pools of blue expand the deeper he penetrates. I oust a shaky breath feeling every nuance and wanting to experience more. “That’s it. Yeah, baby. Suck that plug into your hungry little hole.”

  I gasp a guttural moan as the biggest portion penetrates my ring, spreading me wider than I’ve ever been before. Goosebumps sprout from toes to nose, a slight tremor following in their wake.

  Oh. Fuck.

  I can’t believe we’re doing this. I can’t believe this feels sooo dammmn gooood.

  My teeth grit together in ecstasy, heart galloping as heat swarms my bottom. Every nerve ending fires off in tandem, blanketing me in acute pleasure that pulses there, delivering signals to my brain—begging for more, more, more.

  Big stills, letting the toy’s girth continue to stretch me to the max. “You’re so open for me, Sugar Tits. So fuckin’ beautiful.” Unused fingers glide through my dripping folds. Two swirl around the entrance of my cunt before he eases them inside and growls in satisfaction as he massages the thin wall of skin separating my pussy from my asshole. “I can feel it, babe.”

  “Yeah?” I rasp, expelling a
shuddery breath too overwhelmed to form a proper sentence. Nails bite into the backs of my knees, tethering me to this earth before I float away. This is too much. Too intense. Too… It’s so tight back there. I’m… God…

  Big’s eyes flare, pupils dilating until the ocean of blue turns to a sea of onyx. He samples his bottom lip with the slow sweep of his tongue. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he replies.

  With a final push, he inserts the entire plug and scoots back, removing his digits to appreciate the view.

  A moan flutters from my parted lips as my asshole hugs the base of the toy, holding it safely inside. Still rock-hard, Big fists his thickness, jacking it in long, practiced strokes, devouring me with those wicked eyes like I’m his last meal. “Proud of you, Sugar Tits. You’re goddamn amazing and so fuckin’ hot... This ain’t gonna last long.”

  Don’t care.

  Need him.

  Now.

  Touching me. Inside me.

  Not waiting another second, Big positions himself at my entrance, grips my shoulders for leverage and tears into my pussy like a present on Christmas morning. Slamming to the hilt, air punches from my lungs as his balls collide with the plug… I lose all ability to think, to speak, to do anything more than be his plaything.

  Resting my legs on his shoulders, Big jackhammers my pussy with no remorse. I’m a goner. Done. Finito. Ramblings expel from the deepest recesses of my soul as he takes me to a place beyond this world, where pleasure’s the only thing that survives. My eyesight fades to blankness as a climax to rival all climaxes rips me in two. It’s brutal and it’s glorious. I scream, head thrashing amongst the intensity, but it doesn’t stop. Nothing does.

  “That’s it, honey. I love you so much. So fuckin’ much. Keep comin’ for me, baby.”

  I do.

  I come, and I come. There’s no right-side up or upside down. I feel nothing but the intense thrum of ecstasy radiating within my core. Big’s heavy breath washes over my face. His sweat drips onto my overheated skin. Growls eject in staccato bursts as his own brand of euphoria drives him closer to the brink of no return.

  “Love you,” he moans.

  In response, I sink my fingers into his biceps to stay connected in any way possible. “Love… you,” I somehow force out.

  “Fuck. Fuuuck… Gonna… come,” he grits, burying himself balls deep. Jets of cum bathe the inside of my pussy as Big peels my legs off his shoulders and collapses on top of me, breathing labored. I wrap my arms around him, legs, too, holding him tight as we float back to reality.

  I’m exhausted.

  And grateful.

  He pecks my temple, chuckling the happiest, tired sound. “Can’t believe you’re wearin’ a plug. That was…”

  I twine my fingers through his hair. “Incredible.”

  Lips drag across my temple before a lazy kiss is pressed upon my cheek, Big’s day-old scruff scratching there just how I like. “You’re incredible. Can’t believe this Christmas I got to have my old lady, let alone fuck her like that. You’re my match, Sugar Tits. My…” He pauses a beat to catch his breath, as do I. “The best parts of me. Christ… You’re everything.”

  Turning my head, I nudge him with my chin to get more lovin’. My man props himself up high enough so I can brush my lips across his. “And you’re my everything,” I whisper against them. “Merry Christmas, my sexy Grinch.”

  He smiles. “Merry Christmas, Big’s Bink. Can’t wait to see what gift you give me next year.”

  Nipping Big’s bottom lip, I trace my fingertips up and down his spine. “Next year, you get to wear the plug, hot stuff.”

  The End… or is it?

  Find out what Big does to the brothers on December 26th by clicking the link below…

  BookHip.com/QCFRFH

  Readers,

  Don’t be sad it’s over.

  The Sacred Sinners have just begun.

  Did you squee when I said that?

  I hope so…

  Because I know a lot of you have been curious about what’s next. When is Big’s book? Etc… etc…

  Yes, I know, it’s the end of my original series. One I’ve enjoyed sharing with you over the course of the last four years. It seemed fitting that the final book is a Christmas one, and published the same week as Vol 1 was all those years ago. What a journey this has been. Hope you agree that this was a grand finale to the series. I downplayed the usual MC drama, so you, as readers, could really get a feel where Big and Bink were at in their lives, what it’s like to be a first-time mom, and to finally be at a place where love rules, instead of the constant emotional upheaval. Not that there wasn’t a bit of that.

  As most of you know, this series is fictional with aspects based in truth. People often ask me if book “Bink” is me. Yes, she is, to an extent. She’s brash and ballsy. We look almost exactly the same, apart from tattoos. She doesn’t have as many as I do. Nor is she as geeky as I tend to be from time to time. Big is a representation of the old man in my life. He’s just as much of an asshole, he is much older than me, and those eyes are truly one of my favorite things about him. When I read a few bits and pieces of the Christmas decoration scenes to my real-life Leech, she laughed and commented how accurate that was in our household. #WeLiveWithTheGrinch

  It’s been a pleasure to share this with you. Parts of my family. My life. And slices that were fun fictional pieces. It’s been a blast. Thank you for being a part of it.

  Now… the stuff you came here to know more about…

  The Sacred Sinners aren’t going anywhere… maybe ever. Ya!

  If you didn’t already know this, you will now… I have a series called Sacred Sinners MC – Texas chapter. I plan to create different chapters this for all the future Sacred Sinners books. MC Chronicles is a diary of sorts only from Bink’s POV. Continuing this particular series in another character's voice would take away what I want people to learn and embrace from the series and Bink. So… without further ado… The series that will cover all your favorite people from MC Chronicles will be titled Sacred Sinners MC – Mother Chapter. When the first book will be released, I haven’t quite decided that as of yet. But it is for sure on the books. At this point, I’ve got at least four titles pinned down to write in that series. Possibly more. Depending on what I cook up with the brothers. They have a way of deciding for me as time goes on.

  Again, thank you for reading.

  Peace, Bink

  P.S. Don’t forget to post your review on Amazon when you’re through. It would mean the world to me.

  Want to sink your teeth into another Sacred Sinners book?

  How about a complete trilogy with a new Sacred Sinners chapter and cameos from some of those we love?

  Look no further…

  Here’s a sample of the first chapter of—Hopelessly Shattered- Sacred Sinners MC- Texas Chapter.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Driving down a dark road in the middle of Bumfuck Egypt, six months pregnant and starving, wasn’t exactly how I pictured my relaxing Thanksgiving vacation going. I wanted to stay home with my two daughters, celebrate the holiday with stuffing and the carved bird that my mother, Shelly, always cooks to perfection. The thought of missing her green bean casserole and those buttered biscuits, is seriously making me rethink my plan to come down to Texas. Yet, here I am, on my way to meet a man I’ve only spoken to ten, or so times in the past month. No, it’s not some secret sexy rendezvous. I’m hopefully going to get some answers about my past that might fill in some blanks. I’d tried to do it over the phone or Skype. However, Bear… yes, that’s actually his name … refused to disclose anything unless it’s face to face. Generally, I’d consider that creepy, and probably a bit axe-murderish. But, beggars can’t be choosers. And after fourteen years of unanswered questions, I’m willing to take what I can get. Anything is better than nothing. Which is precisely what I know—squat.

  As I travel down this never-ending highway of clouded blackness, grass, and trees, how about I fill you in on the finer details
of myself, and my foolish plan to waste a perfectly good vacation with a man named Bear? Does that sound good? Well, I sure hope so because I’m bored out of my damn mind. The radio in this old Malibu doesn’t work, and the AC when it’s running, sounds like a chicken dying. If they’d had anything else I could afford at the rental lot, I would have gotten it. Having two daughters and another one on the way, I’m not exactly rolling in the dough. Not when I work as a librarian, and I’m saving up money for my daughters’—everything. They’re girls—notoriously expensive. Having one who’s nine years old and the other at eight, I know firsthand what the future holds. Just think about it: three periods, a lifetime supply of Midol and chocolate, three prom dresses, three girls with shoe addictions, three different bra and panty sizes. God forbid they’re stacked like me. Then I’ll be really fucked, having to buy fifty dollar bras that are ugly as hell and only used for function. Sheesh, I’m getting a damn headache just thinking about it…

  Anywho…

  Sorry about the tangent. I seem to get a little sidetracked and overwhelmed when dollar signs keep adding up. If you have daughters, I’m sure you can relate… Let’s get back to what I was saying about this trip. I guess I should give you the basics first. My dad died when I was fourteen in an explosive car accident, just like the ones seen in the movies. There wasn’t a body to bury. His headstone is merely that—a piece of marble with his name etched in remembrance. It’s resting between my grandpa and great-grandparents in a cemetery right outside of town. Sure, it serves as a place for my grandma to visit and mourn the tragic loss of her son. On the flipside, it’s a nagging reminder of the lack of evidence surrounding his death. His DNA was recovered at the scene, as was part of his driver’s license, and the car that was obviously his. It was the same Camaro he’d left in that night. It was his party car. Brand new. Sleek lines. The envy of all my friends in school, because I had the cool dad who drove a fast car and spoiled me rotten. I’m not sure what they expected when I’m an only child.

  When I was six, my parents divorced and shared 50/50 custody of me. Except my mother, who wanted the divorce in the first place, didn’t really want to uphold her share. She was more focused on the child support my dad dutifully paid her than caring about me. By the time I turned eight, she up and left. Moved clear across the country to Las Vegas, leaving me to be raised by my dad and grandma. Not that I minded. She wasn’t a good mother anyhow. Sure, I visited her twice a year, two weeks in the summer and a week at either Christmas or Thanksgiving, but the rest of the year we never spoke. She soon became a stranger to me, and the bond my daddy and I shared grew stronger by the day. He became my sole provider. My best friend. The man I looked up to. My hero.