BARE HANDS - A Bad Boy Romance Novel

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BARE HANDS - A Bad Boy Romance Novel Page 98

by Gabi Moore


  “Are you on the pill?” Eglise asked her. “I should know by now, but my doctor is out today. I’m taking a big chance without his approval, but somehow I feel you are safe.”

  “Yes, I am,” she told him. It was true and standard practice for the agency to put their field agents on some kind of contraceptive before they sent them out. It avoided embarrassing incidents later and might help them in their assignments. They even had one for the male agents, a good idea given their tendency to misuse government funds.

  “Good,” he told her. “We like women from your planet. They tend to be more forgiving. Ours are so few they can make unrealistic demands on the males.” He traced one finger around her nipple and watched her close her eyes in pleasure. She felt his hand descend and open her up. “I see you are very ready. Tell your lovers how this feels.”

  “Oh, Daddies, that is so good,” she said while her legs spread wide to let his fingers probe into her. She wasn’t lying either. The fingers inside her were narrow and probed deep into her insides. She bit her lip when he found the right spot and pinched. Another hand probed along with the first.

  “What did you call us?” Eglise said as one of his hands stimulated her and another grasped her back. “Isn’t that the term for a father? I’m sorry; English is not an easy language to understand.”

  “Yes,” she shook her head up and down. Holy shit, how does someone from off-planet know so much? Monique felt his hand move softly between her legs and find more spots she didn’t know were there.

  “I like it. Call us that again.”

  “Daddies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Daddies, you are doing things to me…” was all she could manage.

  “I want you to use that term all the time. The servants can call us ‘Sir’s’, but I want to hear it from you from now on. Can you do this?”

  “Yes, Daddies.”

  Monique felt the hand retract from the space between her legs. Eglise was on top of her now and the eyes were feline at this range. She adjusted her position on the bed and let him inside her. He was very hot down there, as she had learned, and she felt her thighs open to receive him. He filled her up. The heat became more intense as he put his weight on top of her. He began to work it inside Monique and she realized the rough patches matched the parts of her that needed stimulation. Then he turned her over to one side and let Nossa enter her too. She was overwhelmed with the sensation of two cocks inside her.

  Monique had gone without a man for over a year, ever since she bounced the last asshole who thought he could stop by, watch football, and expect her to make him a sandwich. What was it with her and abusive men who wanted to take advantage of her station in life? Thank God, she had never ended up pregnant with some loser’s kid. This happened too many of her friends in college and, she suspected, her mother too. At least she saw her father from time to time and he was a part of her life as she came of age, just not a regular one.

  “Am we too hot for you?” Nossa finally whispered in her ear. “We can regulate our body temperature down there. I find most women from this planet like it hot. Does it feel good to you? I can make it as hot as you can stand.”

  She loved the sensation. It was as if she had a burning torch between her legs. The heat warmed her up and made her entire body full of sensations. She felt his breath on her neck and nearly passed out when he thrusted deep inside.

  “Make it hot, Daddies,” she told him. “I want it so hot my insides burn.”

  “This hot, Little One?” Eglise asked and she felt the temperature jump up ten degrees inside her. Holy shit, was she having sex with the devil? Because Monique wanted more. She wondered if he could send out for a picture of water because she was going to need it. Two men inside her felt so good she couldn’t stand it.

  “Hotter, Daddies,” she whimpered. “Burn me up inside, Daddies. I love this heat, Oh, Sweet Jesus, how do both of you know what to do?”

  As the temperature in their burning tools went up higher, she gushed all over the bed. Monique felt the sensations rise up from her legs to the top of her heat into one ball of fire. She felt their mouths all over her and knew the volcanos between her legs was about to erupt. Her eyes convulsed in her head and she saw a forest of flames in her mind as he concentrated his thrusts to the point where she felt the best response.

  Monique gasped as the orgasms merged into one big bonfire in her chest and exploded inside her mind. She made gibberish sounds and shook her head wildly as her lovers did things to her that she had only vaguely heard about before. Small wonder the government did all it could do to keep human women away from these aliens. Not only did they lavish attention on their new brides, but also the sex was indescribable.

  She felt them tense and wondered if she would be consumed with their climaxes. She’d felt a flamethrower between her legs while they made love, was he about to shoot fire into her for real? Then she felt them grab her tightly, make the same noises every other man she’d been with did, and unload a full set of charges inside her. It felt as if a burning sea of lava was unleashed to her insides, but at least she wasn’t hurt. They continued to unleash for a good minute while she thrashed around on the bed. What the hell were these aliens that they could please a woman so well?

  They lay on either side of her for a good ten minutes afterward. Monique couldn’t move. She could barely breathe from what she’d just experienced. It was the most intense form of lovemaking she’d ever had done to her. All she wanted to do was ask them when he would be ready to do it again. Right now, she didn’t care if they ever got up from her. She ran her fingers up their sides and noticed the heat of their bodies had dropped.

  “Are you tired, Daddies?” she asked him. “Because I want some more of that. Do you know what you did to me?”

  “I have some idea from the way you responded,” Eglise told her. “Now you can see why I wanted to be with you before piercer comes. I wish we had more time, because I sense a woman of passion inside you. But you need to be cleaned up before she arrives. “Let’s get up and use the shower. I’d like to give you a bath myself, but we don’t have time. She’s the best there is and I’m flying her in from Oregon.” Nossa stood up from the bed and went to retrieve his clothes.

  “I need to leave now, Eglise,” he told his friend. “She was most acceptable. I think you will find her useful in the months to come.” After dressing, he left the room.

  They had enough time to shower down before the piercer arrived. Monique noticed her alien lover didn’t have a lot of body hair between his legs and his member was devoid of any hair at all. There again, evolution had gone in some strange directions on distant worlds. She held on to him in the shower and enjoyed the sensation of his hands as he soaped her down and cleaned her off. Later she made her face ready and did her hair while he went into the room where she stayed. Just as he’d instructed, she left the shower without a robe. But this time she did not have her thong on.

  Monique looked herself over carefully before she left. He’d seen something in her which made her ideal for the job. She didn’t look forward to servicing any other men, but it was all part of the assignment. After hearing Mrs. Carpenter’s horror tales, she had much worse to fear. Mr. Eglise seemed to be a compassionate man who treated her well, but this was the first day of the job.

  She walked out into the room to find a woman covered in tattoos and sitting next to the vinyl chair. Eglise was there too, but he’d changed back into his tailored suit and sat on the opposite side of the chair. The woman had a small kit open and wore latex gloves on her hands. Monique counted twelve facial piercings on her face. At least she’d been through it too. She wondered how many piercings the woman had you couldn’t see.

  “Monique,” he said, “this is Jordan, the best body piercer in the country. “I employ only the best. Are you ready to take the rings?”

  Monique looked at the woman called Jordan and wondered why she seemed so familiar. She smiled at her and took out a small bag out of her k
it. This was the rings for her nipples. They were silver in color, as Eglise had told her, and vacuum packed in a surgical pouch. They weren’t too big, but she would have a hard time wearing a bra with them.

  She sat down in the chair and he held her hand. “Are you ready, Monique?” he asked her. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The job will end, we will find you some clothes and you can return home.”

  She thought a minute and then noticed the tune the piercer hummed. It was the same one Mrs. Carpenter hummed around the office! This had to be her connection to the agency. It was amazing where they found their field agents.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she told him. “I’m ready.” She took his hand and held on tightly. Damn, this better be worth everything.

  “You’ll feel a little bit of a prick,” Jordan told her as she took out her tools. “Then you’ll feel the rings slide in place. It won’t take long and you won’t have any discomfort if you hold his hand tightly.”

  She was wrong. Monique gripped his hand so hard she almost broke it. And it hurt like hell for days.

  A week later, she woke up to her employer’s face again. Thank God, he decided on not giving her a labia pierce as he’d mentioned before. The nipple rings had finally healed and she liked the sensation when he tugged on them. Eglise hadn’t said anything to her yet about what her extended duties were going to be, she expected them to involve servicing multiple men, but all for the agency. Once again, she reminded herself what Mrs. Carpenter had endured.

  “They look so nice on you,” he said while touching the left ring. “Does it still hurt?”

  “Not much,” she let him know. “So when do I begin my other duties? All I’ve done since starting to work here as tour the estate with you and lay about in my room. Then you come and make love to me all night long. The next day it resumes. I thought you hired me as entertainment.”

  She rolled over on her side and went back to sleep.

  Monique found it better to walk around the house naked after her pierces. It took a good week for them to heal; she was told by the piercer who showed her the many ones she had on her body. She counted at least twenty she could see although the piercer. She said she had many more, but Monique didn’t want to see.

  “Skin is very elastic,” she had told Monique. “In fact, you can consider the upper layers of human skin to be elastomeric. Do you know what that is?”

  “No,” Monique told her. It was the day of her first piercings and she hurt like the blazes. Now some chick with a needle gun wanted to talk about skin? What the hell did she talk about after she pierced a clitoris?

  “It’s a substance that tends to go back to its original shape after it’s been stretched. Like elastic, Y’know? I had a guy I pierced tell me that. Want to know where I pierced him?”

  Monique didn’t, but knew she would be told one way or another. “Where?”

  “His taint,” she told him. “Right below the ball sack. Nice silver ring. Did a Prince Albert on the head of his dick. You know why?”

  God, those damn things hurt! “Tell me why.”

  “His wife wanted to keep him locked up when she was gone.” Jordan was in the process of putting her tools back in the bag. The numbing cream was last as it was the first thing she put on her victims, er, clients.

  All of the sudden the pain was gone. Now this was interesting!

  “She wanted to lock his cock up?” Monique said. Could you do that? And why had no one told her before? There were a number of asshole boyfriends she had in the past who could’ve benefitted from this! “How do you do that?”

  “It’s easy,” Liana continued. “All you have to do is get a frenum piercing and one to match it below the balls, usually around his taint. Then all you need to do is run a small lock through both rings. You can get these tiny locks used for luggage that work just fine.

  “Doesn’t that cause some problems down the road? I mean, what if I do want to use him for sex?”

  “Then you unlock him and take the frenum ring out. You need to put the frenum ring back in place or the hole closes after a day. Works fine for me. I’ve got a man I play with every month I keep locked up most of the time. He knows he has to be real nice to me or no release.”

  Jordan finished with her tools and placed them in the bag. She chatted with Monique for an hour as they waited for the car to come and get her. Monique saw her to the door and kissed the piercer good-bye. She was a fascinating woman who had pierced many rich and famous people. She told Monique about some of the famous people she’d done, which surprised her. From the way Jordan talked, plenty of famous people had trouble when they passed through airport security. Including a movie star whose husband had to make special arrangements when they passed through airport security.

  Monique received her first internal message from the agency a few days later. She was out on the patio sunning herself in the cool air of the mountains when one of the servants brought her something to drink. She had drifted to sleep in the sunshine after taking care to layer sunblock over her naked body. The rays were not so intense that time of year, but prolonged exposure to Sol was never a good idea. Monique once bumped into a woman on a beach who lived for the sunshine. She’d looked down in surprise, as the contact resembled the feel of a leather briefcase.

  She didn’t see who brought her the message since she woke to find a martini next to her with a napkin under it. She looked at the napkin and recognized the code of her supervisor back in Washington. On closer examination, the napkin was printed with a message that only she would understand. Someone made certain to get it to her. Monique leaned over the glass table next to her and heard the clink of her nipple rings on it. She read the message.

  Someone of importance was about to arrive at the mansion. Someone the agency wanted to use as an example of how the aliens had broken the treaty. It didn’t say whom, but it did say she was a public figure at one time who they needed to contact. The agency wanted the world to know she was being taken advantage of in the mountains. This should help the government uncover the alien plot to match human woman with alien men from outer space.

  Monique looked at the message, memorized the critical parts as she’d been trained, and dumped it into the remainder of her martini. She watched the ink fade away as it made contact with the alcohol. Now there would be no evidence of her contact, unless someone happened to see it earlier, which she doubted a possibility.

  Her nipple rings felt much better now and she hardly noticed them. Eglise still liked to play with them when they made love at night. He only slept with her every few days, as there was so much business to which he had to attend in the mansion. Monique, now that she fulfilled her role as hostess for the new women who were brought in to match with the aliens, found herself busy as well. She would put on a light robe, greet all the new women, and go over the arrangements for the matchmaking service the mansion provided. Although she’d never been off-world, Monique had no trouble describing the home worlds and answering any question the new women might have for her.

  She’d settled into the job better than she thought possible and looked forward to it every day. This was in sharp contrast to her real job, which was a constant battle with superiors and co-workers over who was up for a promotion that month. However, this assignment was supposed to bring her to the attention of the top level of the agency. She already had her front desk picked out in the office she was supposed to get once she moved to the ground floor.

  But there were days she watched Eglise walk out with the other alien men and ignore her. It pained her she only saw him a few nights, even if it was just part of the mission. She knew the day would come where she would be forced to abandon him and return to her official role. This was just a cover; she had to remind herself. Identify too closely with your assignment and it was easy to be sucked into it. The agency was filled with stories of field agents who went crazy because they could no longer tell the difference between their assumed identity and the real one. She would lie at
night and stare in admiration at Eglise, but tempered it with the knowledge of what could happen to her if she didn’t stay in touch with her contact on the inside, whomever that might happen to be.

  Monique laid back in her deck chair and tried to remember if she had anyone who was supposed to arrive today. She couldn’t recall if anyone was supposed to be here or not. Last week’s match went over very quick and without trouble. Once she introduced the farm girl from Kansas to her prospective mate, the match took care of itself. She was concerned because the girl was just eighteen and virgin. She came from a broken home but her ultra-religious mother kept her away from boys until the day the woman was hit by a transit bus. The poor girl saw one of their coded ads and contacted them for an interview. Eglise put everything he could to bring this one into the estate for an interview. At least she had some knowledge of her own sexuality and didn’t think the off-worlders were the product of demonic manifestation. One weekend at the mansion and she was ready for a trip to a local justice-of-the-peace. Not too hard to imagine why: a life being pampered in an off-world colony or a life slinging burgers to truck drivers while caring for fatherless children. Not much of a choice.

  Then the initials hit her like a meteorite: Anita Finn. She had talked with Eglise earlier that week and was somewhat surprised to hear someone who was so public in her career would need the mansion.

  Anita Finn was a former adult video star who was on several pilot TV shows before her career faded. Monique remembered her from the cable access movies she used to watch when she didn’t think her mother knew. She was beautiful with a lovely crown of red Irish hair and that matched the landing strip on top of her pubic area. She had creamy white skin and dreamy green eyes. The supermarket magazines would often feature her paired with some rock star or movie actor and mention she was open to all marriage offers. The boys at her school who stole a look at her on the video channels claimed she was as perfect as they could hope for any day.

  Then her star faded and she was no longer the flavor of the year. Monique sat on the deck chair, a towel under her bare ass, and tried to remember why she was no longer the hot item she’d been ten years ago. The public’s taste changed every so often and Monique wondered if Anita Finn wasn’t victim to the demand for fresh faces every month. Only a select few ever lasted and the churn was terrible, she was told, on women who performed sex on video. This was true for hardcore or softcore.

 

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