She arched against Richard’s mouth not knowing how long she could last if they kept up this way. When Malcolm’s fingers entered into her, rubbing against her clit, stroking relentlessly, Abby stiffened. His fingers disappeared inside her and came back out over and over, disorienting her. That was it. She couldn’t take it anymore. She let go of herself and felt the orgasm explode through her body.
“You guys should stop fooling around. I need you both inside me, now.” She said when she finally caught her breath.
“Your wish is our command, milady.” Malcolm answered.
“Lie on the floor, Malcolm.” Abby ordered. She didn’t know whether this was a burst of dominatrix rearing its head but she liked being in charge. It felt good to be calling the shots. The thought sent another surge of lust through her.
Malcolm obeyed and lay back while she straddled him, guiding him into her until she had covered him completely. She threw her head back and welcomed the wave of excitement that took over her. When she felt Richard behind her, she tilted her hips back a little, waiting for him to take her from behind. Life couldn’t get better at this point.
Richard swiped his hands under and touched her wetness. It was not surprising that she was so wet. What was surprising was that he was actually damning the consequences and doing this with people in his employ. What if they decided to turn on him one of these days? His name could be dragged through the mud from the scandal.
Richard let himself relax. They didn’t seem like that kind of people. Even if they were, he could deal with them much later. He pulled out his finger and started to probe into her ass, preparing her body to accommodate him. When he pushed into her with his cock, he felt her widen to take all of him. The minute he hit home, he felt her trying her hardest to remain in control.
“Fuck!” She exclaimed.
With Malcolm completely inside her and Richard filling her from behind, there was not much thinking she could do. It felt so good with them inside her. Abby whimpered and tilted back a little more so that Richard could sink in deeper. Every inch of Richard’s cock filled her ass.
Pleasure and a stronger need surged through her entire being as they both moved inside her. They moved within her with what was a seemingly practiced perfection; if she didn’t know how much they hated each other before now, she could have sworn they both did this often.
As Richard pulled out of her behind, Malcolm pushed into her, giving her no time to even breathe. Every nerve in her body jumped awake. The three of them were panting with need and desire.
“I don’t think I can last any longer.” Malcolm said finally.
Abby knew she was only split seconds away from another heart shattering orgasm but she didn’t say a word. She was too breathless with pleasure trapped between these two men to voice anything but load moans. Richard reached under her and worked one of his hands between her and Malcolm, pressing against her clit.
“Oh shit!” She cried.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Richard whispered in a hoarse voice that she didn’t recognize as his own.
That sound of him sent her overboard. She felt the tiny spark inside her, engulfing her and becoming her. She thrashed between them both and came loudly. Now, it was Richard who came next, whispering her name. Malcolm stiffened under her and came almost at the same time.
The rare perfection of it all despite their differences made her hot inside. This had been better than she thought. She fell onto Malcolm’s chest and felt Richard, surprisingly light on her back. He rolled off and lay on the floor, gazing at the sky. None of them said a word to the other but lay still savoring the pleasure that just passed. It wasn’t long before they fell asleep.
***
Richard was the first to hear the sound. He jumped awake and looked towards the two other naked figures beside him. It was an unnatural sound that he couldn’t place and he was surprised the others still slept despite the raucous. The noise, coupled with his hangover made it hard as hell to sleep through it.
“What is this sound?" Richard asked loudly. Malcolm should know. He was the one with so much wilderness experience. Richard shook Malcolm awake and in the process woke Abby too.
“What’s up?” Malcolm asked. “What’s that noise?” He said, holding his head as though it would fall off otherwise.
“My head hurts like hell. We must have drank a little too much last night.” Abby said. “What is the noise?”
“I was hoping Malcolm would help.” Richard said.
“With the pounding in my head, I doubt I can be much help. It’s a mechanical sound and that is a little too weird for...” Malcolm’s eyes grew wild when he realized what the sound could possibly be. Such noise could never have come from any animal. Finally, the light had come on at the end of their stranded tunnel.
“What’s wrong, Malcolm?” Abby asked.
“Get your clothes, guys. That sound in this wilderness means only one thing. We’re going home!”
THE END
Rags To Riches
Chapter 1
Wandering down a dark back alley, Steve pulled his hoodie up over his head and hunched over, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible. Camden, New Jersey at night is not the kind of place you want to hang around for too long, or even that much in the day time either. The crime rate is high and there isn’t a day that goes by without somebody getting mugged, stabbed or shot.
It had been another long hard day, but Steve was feeling lucky. The construction work he’d been doing over the past week had meant that he’d gotten a hot meal every night and not knowing when the opportunity would arise again he’d been frugal and managed to keep some aside each day so that he would hopefully have enough to eat next week as well.
He was making his way back to the abandoned warehouse where he slept. The still warm fall nights were drawing to a close and the icy chill of winter was in the air meaning the night time temperatures plummeted. Having been on the streets since he was 16, Steve had become an expert at finding areas to sleep that were secluded and safe. He’d only let one other person know about the entrance to the warehouse, his friend Rosie. She’d been one of the first people he’d met when he’d arrived in Camden and found himself with no job and no place to stay. She’d taken him under her wing and shown him how to construct a fairly warm and stable shelter from cardboard and old blankets, and she’d introduced him to some of the more trustworthy members of the homeless community and pointed out the ones who were trouble.
Now, though, Rosie was in her 70s and relying on Steve more and more for support. Not that Steven minded. It was the least he could do after all the help she’d given him over the years. He felt in his pocket for the candy bars he’d bought for her, they were her favorite and it always made him smile to see her eat them with barely contained glee, even if she always moaned afterward that they were a lot smaller than they used to be.
Heading deeper into the alley Steve kept close to the wall and in the shadows as much as possible. He could hear voices now so he tried to keep his steps soft and quiet. Seeing movement just ahead of him he crouched down behind a garbage can to try and assess the situation. He could just make out a small gang of three, no, four people standing around a dark shape on the ground. The shape moved and Steve realized it was another person.
“No, please!”
Steve froze at the sound of fear in the man’s voice. Damn, this wasn’t good. He couldn’t turn back now as they’d probably hear him. He had no choice but to stay put and hope they didn’t notice him.
Trying to regulate his breathing and keep himself calm he watched the scene in front of him play out like something from a movie.
“We warned you what would happen...”
Despite Steve straining to try and hear what was being said he couldn’t quite make out the rest of the conversation. Suddenly there was a scuffle followed by a loud bang.
Shit! They’d shot him.
Panic floo
ded through Steve and it took all the strength he had to not cry out in fear. He whipped his head back so that he was fully hidden and tried to flatten himself against the trash can, almost willing himself inside it where he’d be safer. His breathing seemed extraordinarily loud to him and he was sure that the gang would be able to hear it and come looking for him to eliminate any witnesses to their attack. Overcome by fear and not knowing what else to do, he found himself silently praying to a God that he’d thought he’d given up on a long time ago.
As if in answer to his prayers a loud car startled the gang and he heard them yell out to each other before they started running. The panic in him built as he realized that they were running in his direction, but they passed straight by him without even noticing. Still, Steve didn’t move until the heavy sound of footsteps had disappeared completely. When he was sure that the gang had gone he cautiously pushed himself up and made his way over to the dark figure slumped against the wall.
“Hello?” he whispered. “Sir…Can you hear me?”
A faint gurgling sound was all Steve could hear but he felt a rush of relief that the man was still alive. He knelt down next to him trying to see as much as he could in the faint glow of the nearby street lamp. The man’s face was deathly pale and a slick layer of sweat covered his face. Moving his glance further down his body, he saw the man was holding his stomach.
“Have you been shot? Can I see where? I might be able to help you.” He carefully pulled aside the man’s suit jacket and sucked in his breath. What was obviously once a pristine white shirt was now soaked through with blood.
Fuck, they’d got him in the gut. This wasn’t looking good. Trying to find a way to help stop the bleeding, Steve reached up for the scarf wound tightly around his neck. He felt a moment of concern at how dirty it was but he didn’t have anything else to use, the hospital could worry about the chances of infection later - assuming the man made it that long.
“I’m just going to put some pressure on the wound, okay? It should help stop the bleeding.
Rolling up the scarf so that it was as thick as possible, he pressed down hard on the man’s stomach, hoping that it would work. He’d never had to deal with a gunshot wound before, but living on the streets came with its own dangers and without the benefits of health insurance you soon had to learn the best ways of managing a bleeding and various other injuries.
He’d once gotten into a fight with a man who had tried to mug Rosie as they were walking down an alley very much similar to this one. He’d ended up with a pretty nasty stab wound, but, luckily, a doctor had been passing at the time and had looked after him. He’d even taken him to his surgery so that he could stitch him up, free of charge. Steve always tried to remember that there were good people in the world who were willing to help others out and ask for nothing in return. Just as he was trying to do now.
“What’s your name, son?” The stranger’s voice was quiet and shaking. Looking down into his eyes Steve knew that he wasn’t going to make it to the hospital.
“It’s Steve, sir.”
“Steve, thank you. You didn’t have to stop to help me.” The man paused, coughing slightly but determined to get his words out. “I want you to have something.”
He winced in pain as he fumbled around in his trouser pocket. Not wanting him to suffer any more than he already was, Steve gently placed a hand on his shoulder to try and stop him.
“It’s ok, I don’t need anything.”
The man reached up and took Steve’s hand, placing a cold metal object into his palm before closing it. The effort it had taken him was too much and his arm fell back to his side.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and then he was gone.
Steve sat back on his haunches in shock. What was he supposed to do now? Should he call for an ambulance? The sudden blast of a police siren answered the question for him. No way did he want to get caught here by the police, they’d see a dark silhouette standing over the body and automatically assume he was the one who shot him. Taking one last, regretful look at the man, Steve got up and ran away.
***
Steve didn’t stop running until he was inside the warehouse where he collapsed on his makeshift bed. Panting from exhaustion he waited for the room to stop spinning and his breath to come back before he sat up again and held his head in his hands. He’d seen a lot of awful things living on the streets but he’d somehow managed to avoid scenes like the one he’d witnessed tonight. He’d been lucky enough to have never had to hold a man while he bled out before.
As the adrenaline subsided, the enormity of what had just happened hit Steve and he was surprised to find huge sobs wracking his body and tears streaming down his face.
He’d just seen a man shot and killed.
What the hell was he supposed to do now? How could he carry on as normal? Smile as Rosie ate her candy bars, walk to the construction site in the morning in the hope that there was some work for him, visit the shelter for a shower and a fresh set of clothes? All of these routine things somehow seemed alien to him now.
He looked down at his hands that were dark and streaked with the stranger’s blood. The sight of it made Steve feel sick and he quickly started to fumble around his shelter until he found the bottle of water that he was looking for. It was supposed to be for drinking only, but he still had enough money to buy a couple more bottles and this was an emergency, so he unscrewed the top and poured it over his hands, scrubbing them with the corner of his blanket at the same time. He’d have to try and find a way of arranging the blanket so that the blood that now stained it didn’t show. He didn’t want Rosie to ask questions or worry about him. The process of cleaning his hands calmed Steve and he poured some water over his head to wash away the tears and sweat that streaked his dirt covered face. He lay back onto his bed and stared up at the high concrete ceiling of the warehouse, replaying the scene over and over again before he eventually fell into a sleep that was plagued with gunshots and the feeling of cold metal against his hand.
***
When he awoke the next morning he looked over to Rosie’s bed to see her sleeping soundly. Even though he didn’t feel like he’d rested at all, he hadn’t heard her come in. It was his routine to check where she was every morning. He wouldn’t be able to relax all day if he didn’t know that she was safe at the warehouse or with her friends in the shelter where she spent most of her time now. At her age, the streets were too dangerous and the sidewalks too hard for her. He softly walked over to her and watched her sleeping. Her wrinkled face seemed somehow smoother when she slept, but he missed seeing the mischievous glint in her eye that had never waned despite having been homeless for most of her life.
Not wanting to wake her, Steve quietly gathered up his things and made his way back out on to the street. Finally out in the sunshine, he reached into his pocket to examine the item the man had been so keen to pass to him last night. He was surprised to find it was a key.
A key for what? He turned it over in his hand and found that it was engraved with an address for a private bank that was located in a far more upmarket area than this one. Steve wasn’t sure what to do. Should he visit the bank and see what the key opened? What if it turned out to be something bad, like drugs? Well, if that was the case he could just lock it back up and forget all about it. He may be homeless but he wasn’t about to get into something as stupid as drug dealing. But he had to admit to being curious, and he knew that if he didn’t at least find out what the key was for it would always be there at the back of his mind.
Knowing that there was no way they’d even let him in the bank looking like he did, Steve first stopped off at the local homeless center. He always felt humbled by sight of so many homeless people gathered together. They’d originally come from all walks of life. He knew of several that had been very rich and had suddenly lost everything. Others – like himself – had left home as teens and had struggled ever since. He spotted a few that were obviously quite new, judging by
the look of horror and confusion on their faces.
He smiled as he greeted Edward, the shelter leader, and then made his way over to the showers. Showering was one of his favorite things to do and he always tried to take his time and enjoy it, although it was difficult in a municipal shower area where there was always somebody else waiting. Stepping under the hot water and washing away all the grime and dirt of the past few days he instantly felt better. It was almost as if he was also getting rid of everything that had happened last night. He knew that it would take more than a shower to get over it fully, but this was definitely helping.
After drying and wrapping a towel around his slim waist, he went over to the rags full of donated clothes to see if there was anything in his size that would be suitable to wear to a bank. Luckily somebody had given away a plain navy suit. Picking out a grayish shirt and a pair of only slightly scuffed black shoes to go with it, Steve quickly changed and checked himself in the mirror. His black hair was still slightly too long and unkempt, but at least he was clean shaven. Plus, he liked to think that his hair gave him an air of somebody who was important but also laid back. Hopefully, it was enough to get in the bank and find out what the key opened.
Forever Together Page 51