by Gage Grayson
Maddie turns around to wet her hair even more as I stagger towards the shower.
I’m so eager to get into the shower I almost slip and collapse onto my knees. I just barely stop myself from slipping—but I do fall intentionally onto my knees, bringing myself face-to-face with Maddie’s magnificent ass.
I lay my lips softly onto each of Maddie’s ass cheeks. She leans over, pressing her hands against the wall of the shower and her ass into my face.
I shift my lips downward and kiss Maddie’s inner thighs. I keep the teasing to a minimum this time, licking my way up to her pussy without delay.
The water from the shower head has not reached Maddie’s lower half at all, but her pussy is absolutely soaked. I run my tongue around the edges of Maddie’s pussy for a second or two before starting a nice, long lick up her lips.
Maddie moans and pushes her cunt against my tongue. I don’t do any of that stopping shit, I simply move my tongue from bottom to top.
And from bottom to top again.
And again.
Maddie shakes and moans and rubs her hands lightly on the shower wall.
For stability, I grab onto Maddie’s hips before starting my next slow lick, and she comes with a guttural growl.
Ethan
“Welcome to Ohana’s,” I say to a confused Josie as she sidles up to the bar.
“Who’s Ohana? And since when are you a bartender?”
I point to a framed photo of an adorable black-and-white French bulldog puppy sitting between two liquor bottles.
“That’s Ohana. And I’m still tending bar most nights until we can hire some more people. I figured Charles could use a break...”
“You...what do you do, run this place now?”
“Run and own, along with my co-owner.”
I swear there’s something about working at the former Café Kiev/Lush Republic—now known as Ohana’s—that makes you psychic. As soon as I mentioned my co-owner, I knew she was going to walk through the door.
Maddie walks in, smiling luminously as always, carrying Ohana.
“Hey, Josie,” she yells across the room. “Good evening, Mister Barrett.”
It’s past 4:00 p.m. on a Monday. We just opened, and the place won’t get super crowded for another couple of hours or so.
Maddie carries Ohana into the back office to do some daily bookkeeping. She is, not too surprisingly, better at that shit than I am.
“Ohana.” Josie becomes lost in thought for a moment. “Isn’t that from a Disney movie or something?”
“Lilo and Stitch. But it’s also from the Hawaiian language.”
“Doesn’t it mean family?”
“Well, yeah. We mostly just like the way it sounds. We’ll see if it sticks.”
“Okay.” Josie nods. “Beats fuckin’ Lush Republic.”
I shrug.
“It’s a step in the right direction. What can I get for you?”
“Tonic water.”
“Tonic water and...”
“Lime.”
“That’s all?”
“The night is young.”
Josie’s our first patron of the day, and our second patron walks in while I’m making her drink. It’s someone I don’t think I’ve seen here before, an athletic-looking young man wearing Levi’s and a grey Rutgers sweatshirt. He’s not as fashionable as most of the patrons here, especially Josie...
But, he walks right over to Josie and they kiss each other lustily on the lips.
“Hey, have I seen you here before?” I ask.
“No. This is my boyfriend, Michael.”
Michael nods and smiles politely.
“What can I get you, Michael?”
“Beer.”
“We have, uh...pilsner draught, coming right up.”
It’s been a couple months since that night we saw Josie playing darts here on her own. Whether she was seeing this Michael guy then, I have no idea, but needless to say, a lot has changed.
Maddie did an awesome fucking job negotiating with the landlord of this building. The guy makes a fortune renting the apartments above the bar, and he realized—shortly after the Lush Republic owners left—that the people paying thousands of dollars a month to live here wouldn’t be thrilled about having a tobacconist just below them.
It would be one of the few places in the city they could still smoke indoors—if you’re wondering why they’d give a shit. This bar may still have an old-school feel to it, but nobody’s fucking smoking inside.
The space was empty for a couple days before we signed a ten-year lease, which is standard for a place like this.
More patrons start filing in while I’m serving Michael. Stacia, thank Christ, files in with them.
I’ve been learning a lot in these first few weeks of owning and operating a bar. I mean, it would be a real fucking problem if I weren’t learning, right?
Anyway, one thing I learned about this specific bar is that Stacia not only waits tables, but cooks most of the food herself.
We’re still looking to hire a few chefs, along with a few more bartenders. This place certainly has the cash flow for it.
Selling my apartment and investing in a few safe index funds didn’t hurt, either.
As usual, these days, Maddie and I don’t get home until almost 5:00 a.m.
Where’s home, you ask?
Hey, if you didn’t, that’s okay. I’ll tell you anyway: Saint Mark’s Place, between First and A.
We own an entire fucking building. A brownstone.
It’s been renovated recently, and there are four bedrooms. It was easily affordable after the windfall from my apartment.
“The Captain’s Demise is doing awesome,” Maddie says as we walk up to our bedroom.
“I know, that’s half the drinks I serve every night.”
“I guess you would know, Mister Bartender.”
Business is booming at Ohana’s, and the fact we’re serving some of our favorite drinks from Hawaii is not hurting at all.
Maddie and I kiss as Ohana huffs up the stairs in front of us.
We’re not landlords—this building is meant for a single family, and it has four bedrooms.
What’s going to happen with all of those rooms, you ask?
Again, if you didn’t ask, I’ll answer anyway: I don’t know.
We’ll have to wait and see.
For now, we’ve got a nice, quiet building in the middle of the East Village. And, thankfully, tonight—or, more accurately, this morning—we’re about to get a few precious hours of sleep.
Lying in bed, about to drift off, I realize that there’s a question haunting my mind, something I need to ask Maddie before she falls asleep.
“Hey, Maddie...”
“Make it quick, I need to fuckin’ sleep.”
“Whatever happened to that checked baggage bill?”
“What?”
“When I gave you all those gifts in Hawaii.”
“Oh...I actually got free checked baggage. Lifetime perk.”
“Oh, right. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, love.”
Yeah, my heart just fucking melted when she called me that.
Also, I’ve been able to shed light on a lot of the Mysteries of Maddie now that we live together.
Like, for one, now I know that she was briefly a flight attendant before attending grad school.
I also now know about her asshole ex John, whom she caught cheating on her just before her Hawaiian vacation. Catching a long termer cheating like that, well, I understand why she was a bit guarded when we met.
And what kind of fucking crazy person would cheat on Maddie? It beats me. But, needless to say, I’ve never been happier in my entire life.
Not even close.
We wake up early the next afternoon, and I make Maddie her favorite Sunday breakfast of red velvet pancakes and Hawaiian roll French toast.
Afterwards, it’s time to take Ohana on a nice, long walk around the neighborhood before we get ready to op
en the bar.
“Man, it’s about time for spring to finally...spring, right?” Maddie tilts up her face to take in the sunshine.
“So much for April being the cruelest month.”
Maddie shakes her head. “T.S. Eliot may have known a lot about cats, but he was a shitty meteorologist.”
It’s a beautiful, warm day here on Saint Mark’s Place. This area has changed a lot over the years.
Or, maybe it’s just the way I see it. That’s part of it, at least.
It all seems so much nicer than it once was.
Warmer.
Friendlier.
I can’t wait to see what the future brings.
Mad Love
A Dark Psychological Romance
By Aiden Forbes & Gage Grayson
Copyright 2018 by Third Base Press
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.
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Jaxon
Jaxon
The sound of flesh smacking into flesh is like music to my soul. The hard edge of bone being pounded close to its breaking point is poetry. A splash of blood flies through the air and lands in sprayed drops over my face.
I feel a genuine smile creeping over my face. I don’t know if it’s the blood or the bitch sucking my cock that’s got me so warm and fuzzy. Probably both.
I’m leaning against the hood of my limo. The parking garage is completely deserted on every floor. We’re a few floors up—one of my favorite spots to deliver justice.
No cameras, no people this time of night. Just peace and quiet. You know, aside from the moans and screams.
The bitch sitting on the hood behind me wriggles, her legs wrapping around my waist from behind. I take my eyes off the show in front of me for a few seconds to lean back against her.
Her bare, bouncy young tits feel incredible as she grips me from behind, grinding her hips into my back. Her pussy is giving off heat against me as she watches her friend on her knees in front of me, going to town on my cock.
I already fucked them both in the limo on the way here, of course. We picked them up…oh, fuck knows when. I can’t remember.
I was raging on a high at that point as we nabbed our good friend Senator Dickens. My blood has been running hot for this fucker since yesterday’s six-o’clock news.
He had stated in a public press conference that I am a ‘loose cannon’, whatever the fuck that means. He explicitly said those exact words!
“Jaxon Covington is a madman. He cannot be trusted. All his political dealings are suspect. He is a loose cannon, and I will not have meetings with him. My integrity will not be damaged by any interactions with him or his outfits, and I suggest that my colleagues do the same if they hope to keep their image clean in the upcoming political race.”
My fists clench just thinking about it. I look back at the scene in front of me. Instantly, I feel soothed.
I have four of my best guys working over Senator Dick right now. The cunt is in his fucking pajamas—can you believe that?
We plucked him at 9:00 p.m. right out of his four-poster bed. Who the fuck is in bed at 9:00 p.m.? Even more, the whiny little shit was crying and blubbering the whole fucking drive.
Made it pretty difficult to keep a boner, but these two sweet little bitches here made it work.
I even offered him use of one of the girls, just to see his face. It was fucking priceless. I had both tandem sucking my cock at the time.
One of my guys had yanked his pajamas down, and the girls laughed and said, “There’s no fucking way!” before he could even say yes or no.
They had given the senator cheeky looks and giggled the whole time they worked their tongues up and down my giant cock, just taunting him.
Credit to him, though. The sick shit kept watching!
It was a moment of pure pleasure to lean forward, fix him with my gaze, and whisper, “You might want try to convince them, buddy. You might not have a cock to play with before the night is over.”
He had already run through the “You’ll never get away with this” and the “Someone will stop you” by the time we got here. Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.
When I leaned against the bonnet and pushed the redhead onto her knees, I had my guys drag him out of the car and start working him over. Senator Dick just started blubbering, his whiny screams of “No!” and “Help me!” echoing through the parking garage.
My boys surrounded him in a ring, shoving him from one to the other like a fucked-up game of catch.
He’s kept on his feet for some time now. Honestly, I’m a bit impressed. For a mid-fifties guy in blue striped pajamas, he’s coping well.
I’ve seen drug dealers tap out and start crying for their mommas much quicker than this.
I put a hand on the bitch’s head, gripping her skull through the red hair. I force her head down so my cock goes right into her throat. At the same time, one of my guys punches Senator Dick hard.
Blood and teeth hit the ground. I rock my hips, and the bitch gives a little cry through a hard gag.
Looks like my huge cock might be too much. Damn shame.
By their looks, I had thought they’d be a little more skilled. At least that rules out them being hookers, right?
They had been walking down the street when we were on our way to Dick’s house. Both dressed a bit punkish—the blonde behind me even has a few piercings, and the redhead has some nice tattoos.
They had taken my money, drank my booze, and smoked my cigars as I traded between them. But hookers or not, they’re going to do as they’re fucking told.
I hold her head down, and she gasps as my cock jerks down her throat. She tries to swallow, then pulls away, gasping, eyes watering. She sways on her knees, looking all hurt and vulnerable.
If she doesn’t stop it, I’m going to get rock-hard all over again.
The blonde holds me tight against her, licking my neck and nibbling my earlobe. Her hands creep around and pinch my nipples.
Her friend looks up at her with those teary eyes, but she just keeps on working at me. She might be fun, this one. A bit spicier than some others.
Usually, I like my girls to be a bit cleaner, but these are fine for a few hours. When we’re all done, I’ll give them to the boys for a while.
The senator is down on his knees, crying and bleeding. They start kicking his guts but not too hard, just drawing out the torture.
Meanwhile, the blonde’s attentions are getting me hard all over again. I turn around, my cock still hanging high and stiff out of my fly. I pull the bitch toward me and impale her with no hesitation.
Were they wearing panties when they got in the limo? I can’t fucking remember. She’s wet and warm and gasps as I pull her naked ass across the hood.
My cock slides straight in, and she leans back, skirt around her waist, top bunching up.
I hear violence behind me as I yank up her top and take her nipples between my teeth roughly. She shrieks and bucks under me, and I pin her down with my cock, thrusting deep and hard. After only a few strokes, she’s whimpering and whining, already close to orgasm.
I jerk her legs up and wrap my arms around her thighs and slam her with my hips, banging the fuck out of her.
I’m so hard now I want to take my time, but if I do, Senator Dick might pass out. I want to talk to him first.
I lay in a few hard, deep thrusts, groaning under the weight of sensation. It’s so hard to feel things that times like this nearly overwhelm me.
Violence, sex, pain. It’s running through my veins like fucking honey, or inner peace or some shit.
We all just tick differently, don’t we? Don’t try to understand. Just ride it
.
Whatever feels good. Go for it.
I blow hard into the little slut, jerking her hips up as I come. She leaves a mess on the hood as I pull out and get my cock tucked away again.
The redhead is still sitting on the concrete. Maybe the alcohol is wearing off or something.
“Roll with it, honey,” I say with a smile.
She looks up at me, startled. I laugh at her, running a hand down her cheek.
Fun time is over. Time to talk to Dick.
I walk over, joining the circle around the senator. He’s on his hands and knees, bleeding from the mouth. A nice red puddle is forming underneath him.
He’s moaning and spitting out teeth. Both his eyes are sickeningly black.
“Get him up.” I give a gesture as I command.
My boys pick him up from under the arms and get him on his feet. I come up close, so close his ragged breathing sprays blood over my face.
“What did you think you were doing? Huh? I thought we had a good deal. We were starting to become good friends, I thought. I have something you need, you have something I want. It should’ve been a simple exchange. But no, you had to go snooping, didn’t you? Decided all on your little lonesome that I was dodgy. That some of my dealings may even be ‘legally questionable.’” I finish with playful air quotes at the side of his head.
His eyelids flutter close as his head lolls. I slap him hard, and his eyes open and focus on me again.
“What was the issue here, Dick? Didn’t like how much power I have? Think it belongs to you? Why do you get to decide who’s dirty and who’s not? Huh? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I pull out my favorite knife, flicking out the blade. His eyes go big and wide as I bring the knife close to his face.
“Maybe I should just kill you, man. I’m fucking pissed off enough. But you know what’s better? Getting people to compromise themselves. Seeing how far people will go. So, let’s see your bargaining skills, Dick. What will you give me for your pathetic little excuse of a life?”