by Jools Louise
Inhibitions 2
Lost Inhibitions: The Next Chapter
The tropical refuge of El Santuario is up and running, helping victims of violence to heal. But the outside world encroaches. Jess and her eight sexy studs’ idyllic island attracts the attention of a psychotic stalker who comes after Marcus. A ruthless gang of poachers want to plunder the island’s fragile bounty and Jess, Jackson, Marcus, Max, Caleb, Michael, Dean, Louis, and Raphael have to fight off the threats to El Santuario.
It’s not all bad. Jess has her hands full as she continues to bond and fall further in love with her crew of hunky bi-sexual men. Then the crew dynamic changes. Raphael, uncomfortable in a long term ménage-style relationship finds love with a sexy ex-Navy SEAL named Riley and enters into a monogamous partnership. Jess and her crew are happy that Raphael has found his true love.
Sex, studs and stalkers. Not an ideal combination, but Jess will fight for what’s hers and defend her men from danger.
Note: This book is written in one point of view.
Note: This book is written in first-person point of view.
Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.
Note: This book contains double anal penetration.
Genre: Contemporary, Interracial, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 35,874 words
LOST INHIBITIONS: THE NEXT CHAPTER
Inhibitions 2
Jools Louise
LOVEXTREME
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: LoveXtreme
LOST INHIBITIONS: THE NEXT CHAPTER
Copyright © 2014 by Jools Louise
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-490-8
First E-book Publication: October 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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Regarding E-book Piracy
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The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Jools Louise’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Jools Louise’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
For all those fighting their inner demons every day…when we stop fighting, then the war is lost. Keep on battling, don’t let the demons win!
Also, to Harris Channing for the fab cover art. Thank you. JL
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
About the Author
LOST INHIBITIONS: THE NEXT CHAPTER
Inhibitions 2
JOOLS LOUISE
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One:
Waking up in Paradise
I woke up in my usual sluggish fashion, feeling out of sorts and grumpy as I struggled to move. The transition between sleep and non-sleep was never pleasant for me. The reason for my problem quickly became apparent, since I was sandwiched between two large sexy male bodies. A large muscular arm anchored me against a smooth, hard, and muscular chest with a smooth, hard, and muscular dick firmly embedded inside my ass keeping me in place. As conscious thought returned, so did my other senses, and I shivered as the body at my back shifted slightly, causing me to sigh in pleasure as the fat dick in my ass sank in deeper still. I felt the nip of teeth on my shoulder and leaned my head back in invitation, eagerly accepting the sensual kiss from the warm lips which attached themselves to mine. I whimpered a little as the lips devoured mine, and my toes curled at the delicious sensations zinging through my body straight to every erogenous zone I had.
The second male body lay with his back to my front. My breasts molded themselves to the muscular expanse of skin, one of my legs threaded intimately between both of his. I felt the hard warmth of an engorged dick against my thigh and moved, rubbing my thigh against the thick pole, feeling warm fluid seeping from the tip onto my leg. My hand reached around, caressing the satiny smooth hip before inching around and lightly squeezing the heavy ball sac which hung temptingly below the heavy dick.
My eyes finally opened, and I realized I had Michael’s balls in my hand, his cock leaking against my thigh, and kissed the array of scars which criss-crossed his broad ebony back. I licked at the sweat beading his skin, bringing my other hand up to tweak his brown nipples into aching nubs. He moaned and shifted to face me. Lifting my leg over his hip, his lips joined with mine as he adjusted his erection, positioning it at the juncture to my now sopping front channel before sinking in to the hilt with one smooth thrust of his hips.
It might sound a little odd that I didn’t know who was in my bed. Since I had eight studs to choose from, it was like winning the lottery each morning. It was fun when I woke to find which ones had chosen to share my warm bed after the sex games had ended for the night.
My channel clenched tightly as ten inches of fat black cock entered me while ten more inches of equally black cock possessed my rear. I cried out, my senses suddenly very much alive at the dual penetration. I gasped out, panting as both logs bottomed out. God, they felt so good. I felt split in two, almost too full, but loving every moment of my imprisonment…a woman could die a very happy woman in this position. Death by double-studly loving. W
hat a way to go.
“Morning, sunshine.” Caleb had my backside skewered with his thick rod and I moaned as the pair began to move, engaging me in a three-way kiss which grew sloppier as our passions ignited. My arm went back around Caleb’s neck, my hips moving in tandem with his as I was impaled on first his cock and then on Michael’s. Michael’s lips left mine and began to nibble down my neck, nipping me in gentle bites until he reached my aching nipples. His mouth opened, and I groaned in pleasure as he sucked one hard nub inside, my body arching against Caleb’s as two large dicks ploughed my front and back.
I felt the sticky residue of last night’s orgy on my thighs mingling with the new flood of my juices as my slick channel overflowed with cream and mixed with lube and pre-cum as my two black studs fucked me with slow, easy strokes.
“I love you,” Michael whispered, his voice husky and deep.
“I love you.” Caleb growled into my ear, nipping my earlobe as his cock shunted hard and fast in and out of my ass.
Hands caressed every inch of me, mouths licked and nibbled at my flesh in between sexy three-way kisses, and it wasn’t long before all three of us were shuddering through our first orgasm of the day. I loved the feel of slick cum seeping along my thighs as my body convulsed between my lovers, my mouth fused to both of theirs as their cocks jerked and jetted deep inside me.
Collapsing in a sweaty heap on the mattress, we panted as our breathing slowed. Still joined together, we lay there enjoying the balmy breeze on our flesh and the feeling of contentment at being together.
My head rested on Michael’s broad shoulder and I kissed him gently, feeling Caleb’s warm breath against my neck as he snuggled against me with a sated sigh.
“I love you, too,” I murmured, replete.
A voice interrupted our afterglow.
“Here’s me, working hard since sunup and you three slackers are fucking up a storm while I slave away.” I grinned slightly, since the complainant was called Max, and on many occasions he and I had woken up together in a similar fashion, with him fucking me in various holes. I really loved being here, since my wake-up calls verged on the spectacular. Who needed a pesky alarm clock when you had a bunch of stud muffins willing to fuck you awake? “The boss has already done about three hours’ office work. You need to get moving.”
“Max, you made coffee. That’s hardly slaving away, dude.” Caleb’s voice was muffled against my shoulder, a smirk in his voice as he kissed me gently. His arms tightened around both me and Michael as we continued to cuddle. Caleb sounded sated and content, his fingers caressing Michael’s scarred back with gentle strokes.
“It’s only an hour after sunup, Maxi. You’re just upset ’cos we got here first. You snooze, you lose.” Michael’s chuckle vibrated against my mouth as he kissed me with one of those toe-curling sizzlers which nearly had me coming for a second time.
The bed shifted and Max lay behind Caleb on the big bed. I felt his fingers against my cheek as he snuggled with us. His lean body was fully clothed which told me he wasn’t going to tempt us into another round of sex and I gave a sigh of regret as I shifted, dislodging the two cocks from my holes and sitting up between my sexy men.
My hair was a tangled mess, my upper torso showing signs of whisker burn and my tits looking well-chewed from the hours of lovemaking the previous night.
I looked down at my three guys who lay sprawled in wanton abandon, their sexy bodies splayed out in a feast of muscle and smooth skin. The two most recently used cocks lay semi-hard and slick from our recent lovemaking and I couldn’t help the smile of pure satisfaction that these three studs were all mine.
My name is Jess.
The three studs and I met several months ago when I was invited to a tropical paradise named El Santuario. Located in the South Pacific, somewhere near Fiji, the island had once been a refuelling station during WWII, but now was owned by my best friend of eleven years, Jackson. His full name was Jackson Channing Murray III and he had once been a military intelligence operative, then trained to become a psychologist. He had become quite wealthy when certain shrewd investments turned into goldmines. I had a deep affection for him before we ever became lovers.
He invited me out to El Santuario about a year ago. I had thought for several years that he was gay, getting conflicting messages from him. His previous lover was male and had died after being hit by a drunk driver. Jackson moved into the same apartment building, and we became friends. Eventually he worked out his feelings toward me. He admitted to being attracted to me and we became intimately involved. Having fantasised about ménage relationships for years, I met Jackson’s crew of seven studs and we all became lovers, sharing a remarkably comfortable, easy-going relationship with no petty jealousies emerging over the months I lived on the island.
We had an honest relationship, with one of the key elements being able to talk through stuff which made us uncomfortable. Sex was great between us, and my inhibitions were well and truly lost. Having eight fantasy studs become my reality definitely helped. I wasn’t into BDSM, and while a couple of the guys had that kink, that was okay. Just as long as I was not chained up and whipped, I understood that they needed something a little more intense. I’d had enough abuse as a child, and the thought of being left completely helpless and under someone’s complete control again left me cold. Having eight sexy hunks to play with, however, heated me right up.
You might think I’m a slut. I think I’m incredibly lucky. I still have a sneaking suspicion that there is a scientific correlation between rum cocktails and nymphomania, since my inhibitions began to loosen considerably after I joined the mile high club en route to the South Pacific last year. Indulging in some really hot sex after a couple of drinks with Max, the steward and one of my hunks, and Jackson had started it all. I’ve been living among my guys for several months now and our attraction for each other just keeps on growing. I love each of them, although I’ve bonded with some more than others, since each of us carry scars which are not so easily healed. Until I met Jackson, I had my share of insecurities, and I still have moments of low self-esteem which can hit at the strangest times. Those times are coming less frequently for one very good reason.
I have eight incredibly sexy and loving men who don’t look at my curves with disgust, but who embrace my fuller figure and grumpy moods and cravings for ice cream and treat me like a real woman.
I’m not a perfect human by any stretch of the imagination. I can be sarcastic, moody at times, and I carry an extra fifty pounds around my butt and belly and thighs. I’m considered curvy when described by some. The other descriptions have been less than flattering, and I had been bullied for years as a child since I was always the tubbiest kid in class. “Blubber,” “fatsoid,” and “hulk” were all insults levelled at me during my school years.
I had never shared too much else about my childhood, but Jackson was a skilled psychologist and over the past few months he managed to get to the root of the reason for my food cravings. Some people eat as a comfort thing. Apparently, after admitting to incidents of abuse as a child at the hands of a family member, I turned to food as a coping mechanism when I was in stress mode.
All seven of Jackson’s crew had been abused at one point or another. Michael had been sold by his parents as a child and turned into a boy soldier at the age of ten. He was trained to kill, and beaten and whipped as punishment when he refused to obey his cruel captors. Max had been orphaned when his parents were killed during a raid by police on his parents’ house. The police had blundered into the wrong house after a neighbour who had a grudge had directed the SWAT team there, telling the police the family were drug dealers. Instead of investigating the claims by the neighbour, the police had sent in SWAT in full combat mode, and Max’s parents were gunned down by a trigger-happy moron who had already had warnings about his overly aggressive conduct. The officer was reprimanded and eventually kicked out of the police force altogether, while Max was left orphaned at age thirteen. He had been strugglin
g to work out his sexuality and ended up on the streets after becoming too difficult to handle, caught up in unrelenting grief and anger and confusion. At age fifteen he had been working as a rent boy and came to Jackson’s notice after being raped and left for dead on the street before being taken to the hospital. He was eighteen. A few weeks in Jackson’s care and he blossomed and was now the cheerful scamp we all knew and loved…and occasionally tossed in the nearest pool when he got too cheeky!
Caleb, with his liquid-brown eyes and the braids which hung in beaded ropes to his shoulders, was tall and sexy, with a blinding white smile which flashed all the time. He was part of a street gang from a very young age. Physically abused as a child, he had ended up in “the system,” bounced between foster families and seduced into joining a gang with promises of wealth and power. His life lessons as a child had involved avoiding the next lash of a belt or rod. The foster families he had been sent to had rarely been kind. A knife scar marred the skin of his face, the result of a fight with the gang leader, and at nineteen he was left alone and bleeding heavily on the streets of Los Angeles. Jackson had counselled him as well, and now in his early thirties he was well adjusted and acted as the joker of the bunch. He was also the first one to help resolve an argument and gave the best hugs when you were down.
I had bonded firmly with Jackson, Caleb, Max, and Michael. I loved each of them deeply, and was constantly reminded of their love for me with the smallest of gestures and their constant affectionate touches. They were the ones most likely to wake up next to me. I certainly wasn’t averse to it, revelling in being surrounded by all that sexy muscle. I felt safe, warm, and beautiful around them. Oh yes. I wasn’t averse to it at all.
The four remaining crew consisted of Louis, Raphael, Dean and Marcus. They were taking longer to get to know. Relationships are based on trust. I knew that. I certainly didn’t expect everyone to suddenly fall at my feet, since I still had insecurities myself. Since each man came from different backgrounds, it was obvious they had different experiences. Trust was something that was earned, not simply handed out like treats at a kid’s birthday party. It would take time to bridge the distance I sometimes felt.