by Ruby Laska
“Please,” she whispered. Almost involuntarily, her hand went to her pussy, dipping into the dampness and smearing it over her clit.
“Please what, querida? Show the man some respect.”
“Please….Sir.”
Daniel’s cock jerked in his hand. He would soon be past the point of no return, clearly as aroused by the scenario as she was.
“Tell him what you need.” Ricardo gently pushed Chelsea forward, so that she was forced to stand straight, her hair hanging around her face. She took advantage of it to hide from the observers, letting the thick hanks of unmanageable curls block out everything but the man in front of her.
“I…may I…please, Sir, may I have you in my mouth?”
“God yes,” Daniel said, but Ricardo held her back with a hand at her waist.
“How kind of him,” he said. “You will have to give our friend your best effort. Please don’t let me down, as it will reflect poorly on me. Show him what you can do. Show him how well I’ve trained you. Now, get down on your knees and return the pleasure he so generously gave you.”
Chaos broke out in the crowd, stilled by the bartender slamming the gun down on the bar and barking out, “Quiet!”
Chelsea slowly knelt, keeping her eyes on Daniel’s cock in his big, callused hand. She gently nudged his hands out of the way and cupped Daniel’s balls in her palm, sliding her fingers up and down his cock. She stroked the end lightly, then bent forward and licked it, swirling her tongue around so as not to miss any of his salty issue.
Daniel made a strangled groaning sound and leaned back against the table, clutching its edges for support. Chelsea warmed to her task, rubbing the slick head of his cock over her lips, her chin, her cheeks. She squeezed his balls, exploring the sensitive area behind them with her finger, alternating pressure with circling strokes. Then she slid him into her mouth. She lapped hungrily, using her tongue while she slid him deeper, in and out, all the while massaging his balls.
She felt Ricardo’s hands on her hips, positioning himself so that her legs straddled his. She felt the satiny head of his cock and realized he’d pulled his own pants down and was teasing her, alternating stroking himself across her ass cheeks with rubbing up and down her crack. Her pussy was fully swollen again, damp and juicy and needful, and she tried to rub against him while she took Daniel’s cock ever deeper into her mouth.
Ricardo positioned himself against her pussy, his cock damp with her juices, but didn’t enter her, merely rubbed and teased her folds. She ground against him, sounds of frustration issuing from her throat as Daniel finally grabbed her hair and started to take her harder, humping against her mouth and driving himself deeper.
She was being fucked by two men. It was a fantasy she’d never given any thought to, something other people did, the stuff of fantasies, of porn movies. But now, with her tongue frantically working Daniel’s smooth, hot, throbbing cock while Ricardo teased her mercilessly, the thought of both of them filling her was irresistible. Frantic mewling sounds came from her, cut off whenever Daniel rammed farther down her throat, only to begin again when he pulled back. She needed Ricardo inside her now, needed him to jam himself as far inside her as he could. She wanted to be fucked to the very core of her body, wanted to feel his balls slapping against her thighs as he drove harder and harder. She pushed back against him, succeeding in getting a couple of inches of his length inside her pussy before he jerked away from her; meanwhile she’d let Daniel slip out of her mouth, her face wet from her own saliva and his brimming seed.
Slap. Ricardo’s hand against her ass was quick and sure, and she didn’t need to be told what her infraction was. Greedily she pulled Daniel’s cock back inside her mouth while he fisted his hands in her hair, guiding her down onto his length.
“Better,” Ricardo murmured. “Good girl…my good little fuck toy. Suck him. Thank him for using you. Show him how bad you need it.”
As she slid her mouth up and down, holding the base of his shaft in her grip, squeezing and releasing, Ricardo kept up a steady rhythm of slaps while she bucked and rubbed against him. Suddenly, all at once, he grabbed her hips and jammed himself inside her in one hard stroke, and her body tensed and she cried out—or would have, if her mouth hadn’t been filled. Daniel didn’t pause in his rhythm, fucking her steadily, increasing his tempo and force as he came closer and closer to his release.
Ricardo took his cue from Daniel and matched the pace. A tight, hot coil of sensation began to build inside Chelsea, and she knew her orgasm wasn’t far away. Ricardo grasped her thighs and her feet left the ground as he plowed into her, harder and harder. She couldn’t keep up with Daniel’s thrusting and finally gave up on using her lips and tongue and just gave in to his hard driving. Her eyes closing, her hands holding on to the base of Daniel’s shaft for dear life, she was suspended in the air while her entire body was reamed and penetrated. There were only their cocks, her holes…until Ricardo slipped a saliva-moistened thumb in her crack and rubbed at her asshole, teasing it while he ministered to her pussy.
“Please,” Chelsea begged, but the word was lost to the piston-like charge of Daniel’s imminent orgasm. Ricardo knew, though. He knew what she needed, and he forced his thumb into her ass, meeting resistance with unremitting pressure until he had managed to enter her.
“All your holes,” he muttered tightly. “Remember this, mi amor, because this is what good girls get for their very best behavior. Take it. Take it all. Don’t you waste a single drop. Show me you understand.”
But she couldn’t—she was helpless to do anything but feel Daniel ramming down her throat while Ricardo kept a steady rhythm with his cock and thumb. She was almost there, the colossal force of her own climax bearing down on her when Daniel seized her hair hard and bucked one last time, uttering a guttural cry as his semen blasted in her mouth and down her throat. She nearly gagged from the force of it, but she swallowed wave after wave instead. Ricardo’s own thrusts pounded hard and fast and the growl building in his chest traveled through his body, into hers, and she knew he was close, so close.
And then he broke through with a jagged cry, plunging one last time so deep she felt him to the molten center of her, and her body exploded in response. As he emptied himself inside her in thunderous waves, her own orgasm blasted around him, throughout her body, electrifying every inch of her from her fingers digging into the flesh of Daniel’s thighs to her legs tensing and toes curling, suspended from Ricardo’s grasp. Her pussy gushed around Ricardo’s cock and mixed with his seed, wetting her legs as Ricardo rode her through the seemingly endless orgasm.
Finally, finally, the waves began to recede, and Ricardo lowered her feet to the ground, his cock still rock hard inside her. Daniel’s grip relaxed as his own spasms slowed, and she let him slide free of her mouth, licking her lips so as not to miss any of his cum. He helped her to stand, his hands in hers, while Ricardo pulled free of her.
Around them the bystanders were cheering, many with their own pants low on their hips while they jerked themselves off. Some had already come, but the air was full of the ragged breathing and uttered exclamations of climax. At the bar, the bartender was lining up a row of shot glasses, slamming them down with exaggerated zeal.
As reality began to seep back into Chelsea’s consciousness, she was exquisitely aware of her nakedness. Already, her two lovers were zipping up their pants, fastening their belts; she alone was still exposed. Ricardo wrapped his arms around her protectively, murmuring into her ear. “You are beautiful, my little one, you are the perfect receptacle for a man’s cum.” She ducked her chin and tried to disappear in his embrace and, understanding her need without her voicing it, Ricardo picked her up and carried her to the corner of the room, bending to pick up her clothes. Her own real, comfortable clothes, not the dress which lay puddled on the floor or the sky-high heeled shoes which had fallen off as she was being double fucked.
He set her down and stood protectively in front of her, shielding her from the crow
d, which was lined up drinking the shots. He gently unbuckled the collar from her neck and slipped it into his pocket. “I will safeguard this for you.”
Chelsea touched her neck, feeling the tender places where leather and metal had left their mark. His mark. She pulled her underwear and old, faded jeans on, then her soft, worn shirt. Her face was slicked with drying cum and her hair was a tangled mess, but she wasn’t about to go back into the filthy bathroom to clean it.
“Can we go?” she asked in a tremulous voice, slipping into her beloved boots. She needed time and space to process what had happened, to understand what it said about her and Ricardo and the two of them together. She no longer wanted to face the strangers, men who were hooting and high-fiving as though they had fucked her themselves. Only Daniel stood apart, straightening his clothes self-consciously.
“Absolutely, corazon. This way.”
Leaving the dress and heels in the middle of the floor, he signaled the bartender, and she met them in the dark, narrow hallway at the back of the bar.
“Thank you, Sharie,” he said, slipping her an envelope. Chelsea was sure it contained more than enough money to cover the broken glass and anything else that had been damaged during the wild encounter.
She looked inside and then stuffed it in her pocket, grinning. “Y’all come back and put on a show anytime you feel like it, she said, opening the back door for them. “You’re a crowd favorite, sister.”
Outside, the last of the daylight was fast disappearing into the purple night sky. Up and down the street, lights had come on in the buildings. Tantalizing smells came from street vendors and restaurants; people clustered in doorways, talking and calling out to each other. The neighborhood was poor, but it was vibrant, its pulse quickening in the night, the air tinged now with excitement and hunger and danger and promise.
In this neighborhood tonight, people would come together in need and love and violence, fucking and fighting and doing their best to beat back the ravages of life in a city whose sparkling surface disguised a desperate, teeming underside.
Need, love, violence. They existed in equal measures in the complex bond that had grown between Chelsea and Ricardo. As he led her to a battered old Civic she’d never seen before, her hand held tightly in his, she wondered where it was all leading—and whether she should embrace the ride, or run for her life.
CHAPTER NINE
“Still want a salad and the remote?” he asked later, after he had taken her up two flights of stairs in the nondescript apartment building they had reached after a dizzying half-hour drive that left her unsure exactly where in the city they were. They were standing in the combination kitchen/living/dining room of a small, sparsely furnished apartment. It was as modest as the building itself, with ancient appliances and outdated furniture and not a single personal effect. No one, it was safe to say, would find her here; the stairwell rung with at least three different languages and the windows were strung with laundry hung out to dry. The Civic was parked in the parking lot of a dry cleaner several blocks away; Chelsea didn’t expect to see it again.
“Just sleep,” she murmured. She’d been drowsy in the car during the drive, made mute by the enormity of what had just happened. Ricardo didn’t press her to talk. As always, he intuited her need and acted accordingly.
“The bed is made up,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the only other room in the apartment. “I can’t vouch for the comfort of the mattress, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t care,” she sighed, falling onto the bed that was the only furniture in the room except for a small dresser with a single lamp. The mattress was soft and sagged in the middle, but the sheets and blanket smelled clean and fresh, and she sank into the pillow and closed her eyes. She could sleep for years, Chelsea thought, her pussy pleasantly sore, her lips swollen and abraded from her ministrations. A shower would be nice, but not until she’d rested.
“There’s food in the fridge,” Ricardo said, drawing the covers up around her shoulders. “I’ll prepare a meal. It will be there for you whenever you want it.”
“You’re not leaving, though, right?” A stirring of unease made its way through the haze of her post-coital calm: he had stayed the entire night with her only a few times, and she’d woken alone more often than not.
“No, mi amor, I will stay…but only one night. Tomorrow I must attend to an important detail.”
“And you can’t tell me what it is,” Chelsea murmured, slipping quickly into semiconsciousness.
Ricardo chuckled softly. “My curious little pet. Never mind that. Just think about nice things, and tomorrow you can tell me what you dreamed about so I can buy it for you and spoil you terribly.”
“Don’t want anything,” Chelsea sighed, her words barely audible. Only you.
#
Hours later she woke to a darkened room and the solid, warm presence of Ricardo naked in bed next to her. His arm was slung protectively across her hip, and his breathing was deep and regular. It was hard to imagine that this was the same lover who’d offered her to a stranger, who’d fucked her in front of a room full of rough men.
Even now, the memory spurred in her both the stirrings of need coupled with the searing shock of knowledge. This was the furthest she’d ever gone into the realm of her sexual yearnings and explorations, and she no longer understood who she was. At first, during their early forays into simple bondage and erotic spanking, she’d been overwhelmed with the knowledge that she was a submissive at heart. Now, that revelation had become a deeply ingrained truth at the heart of her psyche.
But today she’d moved past even their most exotic play into the realm of public humiliation and multiple partners. Ricardo had never lost command of the situation, and she knew he never would. And that left only her—her experience, her satisfaction, her needs.
How far would he take her? How far would she follow?
The question frightened her. If anyone had told her six months ago that she’d tolerate so much as a single slap on the ass, she would have laughed. Chelsea had always thought of herself as strong—but her strength had been honed in response to a childhood spent in pain and helplessness. She’d conquered the ravages of abuse by making herself hard and unapproachable.
But Ricardo had conquered her. With him, she felt safe enough to understand that she’d never really banished her demons at all, only buried them so deeply that she could pretend they were forgotten. Now, as Ricardo forced her to live fully in the moment, with all of her true desires exposed and explored and gloriously celebrated, she wondered if she would be able to face the demons again and, this time, obliterate them with his help.
In the most intense moments with Ricardo, when their fucking had taken her out of herself and into the nether place of sheer sensation and eroticism, she caught glimpses of how it might be. How she could be reborn into a truer version of herself, almost as though the terrible events of her childhood had never happened to her. When Ricardo called her his little one, his querida, she felt cherished and protected. When he spilled his seed inside her, it was a benediction, a celebration of life, of possibility; a repudiation of evil and pain.
Forever, the voice whispered in her mind. It was both wish and hope and hunger: His, forever.
She extracted herself carefully from the bed, doing her best not to wake her sleeping lover. She closed the bedroom door and, on the way to the bathroom, saw her purse sitting on the kitchen table. Ricardo must have carried it here because she had no memory of seeing it in the bar after he’d taken it from her.
When she was finished in the bathroom, she got a glass of water and drank greedily. On the counter, covered in plastic, was half a pizza, the kind the Fairy Godfathers used to serve on Friday nights when she was a teenager, a rare indulgence for the health conscious duo. But Chelsea had no appetite for it now.
Thinking of her fairy godfathers reminded her that she should let them know she was all right. They were used to her coming and going and had no idea of the may
hem at the center of her life, only that she was seeing a new man. She smiled as she realized that they probably thought her lover had taken her for a nice dinner and maybe some perfectly respectful, ordinary lovemaking after and was even now spending the night in some urban condominium with a man who worked in the financial district.
She dug in her purse for the phone, mentally composing the text she would send…doing fine, miss you, love you, call you tomorrow.
But her phone lit up with a text from someone else entirely. Jade. And she’d sent a link along with, in all capitals, the words READ THIS!!!
For a moment Chelsea hesitated. She longed to slip back into bed, into the warm cocoon embrace of Ricardo’s arms. It had only been a few hours since she’d talked to Jade, since she’d heard the warnings and added them to the complex case she was building in her mind concerning Ricardo’s true nature. Despite the raw, sometimes violent nature of his sexual attentions—or maybe, in some twisted, complicated way, because of it—she’d allowed herself to be lulled into a sense of safety. Of complacency.
She could thank Jade and tell her not to look any further into his life. Commit herself to trust, when even those two words—“commit” and “trust”—had never been part of her emotional vocabulary.
She’d just take a quick look first.
While she waited for the web browser to open, Chelsea listened to the sounds of the night below and smelled the mixture of fragrant vines and spicy food wafting through the windows. She could be happy with Ricardo, no matter where they were. Perhaps she could open her gallery again, in another town, another place, when things settled down. Maybe they had a chance to build a life together, despite everything.
An image appeared on the phone’s tiny screen, coming into focus pixel by pixel. At first it was just a jangled collage of colors, dominated by slashes of red.