Big Bad Twins

by Tia Siren

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I can pick you up, uh, at three? We’ll be there by six then, and it starts at seven, but we can mingle, grab a drink or whatever.”

  “Sounds great,” Jennifer said, and she hung up. She bit her lip as she stared at her ceiling. She wondered what she was doing. She needed a good man, a good guy. Someone who had a good job and had to wear a tie to the office. That was who Ryan was. She found herself feeling nervous suddenly, her stomach in a knot.

  She stood up and took her T-shirt off. Then she unclipped her bra and let it fall to the floor before sliding her panties down to her feet and stepping out of them. She padded into her bathroom on bare feet and stopped in front of the sink. If she backed up far enough, she could see most of her body: her face, her chest, her flat stomach. She was attractive. She always had been. She’d been the first girl in school to develop, and now, at twenty-five, her breasts were round and heavy. Her pubic hair was trimmed, a small strip above her pink slit. Her hair was blond and long, loose and framing her shoulders. Her lips were plump, and she had a small beauty mark above her lip on the right side. When she smiled, there was a dimple in just her left cheek.

  She was hot. Beautiful. And she had never been with a good man. Ever. Ryan was a good man. She was excited to go with him to Tempe that weekend; she was excited to go on a real date with a good man. The last man she had gone on a date with was Michael. He was an asshole, to put it simply. He never took her out; he just expected sex, and even then he never made love to her. It was just hard fucking, hair pulling, ass grabbing.

  Looking in the mirror, she wondered what kind of lover Ryan was. Would he pull her hair? Would he grab her breasts so hard that it hurt her? Would he smile when she yelled out in discomfort, or would he let up? Jennifer found herself wanting to know. She took a hot shower, thinking of Ryan. She let her hand fall between her legs, her fingers sliding over her slit. She came, and then she washed, and then she got out and dressed.

  She spent a couple of hours cleaning the house, and then she went and collected Jaxson from school. They hung out for a while at home, but soon it was time for Jennifer to go to work. She dropped Jaxson off with Barbara and then hurried to her bar.

  She employed two other night bartenders, a guy in his thirties named Steven and a girl younger than her, with bigger tits and a more vacant expression, named Brittany. It was Thursday, and Steven was working. One guy manned the bar during the day, seven days a week, an old man named Bert. He only had to come in from two in the afternoon, when the bar opened, to five, when the night tenders took over. Jennifer liked all of her employees, even if Brittany was rather vapid and airheaded. She also had two cooks in the kitchen who worked part time, alternating days. On that Thursday, the cook was Andre, a tall black man who had once been headed to the NBA before an injured knee brought him to the world of cooking. He was smoking a cigarette at the rear of the building when Jennifer pulled into the employee lot.

  “Hey, boss,” Andre said, and he smiled. He was always smiling; Jennifer wasn’t sure she had ever met a friendlier person.

  “Hey,” Jennifer said. “How’s the wife?”

  Andre was married to a petite white woman four years younger than him. She was eight months pregnant and looked as though she was ready to pop at any moment.

  “Sherry is fine,” Andre said.

  “I thought you were kicking the cigarettes,” Jennifer said.

  “Before the baby comes,” Andre said with another grin. “He ain’t here yet, is he?”

  “Not yet,” Jennifer agreed, and she went inside. She got to the bar just as Bert was leaving. Steven was already there, filling a beer for the only customer in the place, an older woman with a tattoo of a rose on her throat. Everyone called her Rose, and she was a regular. She came in every day at two, shot the shit with Bernie, and then left half an hour after he did, drunk as a skunk. Jennifer liked her, though she was pretty sure her name wasn’t really Rose. She was also pretty sure Rose didn’t have a job and was getting disability due to the fact that she hobbled everywhere on a cane and could afford to do nothing but drink all day.

  “Hey, kid,” Rose said.

  “Hey, Rose,” Jennifer replied. The old woman always called her kid. Rose was a tough woman, a biker chick, clad in jeans and a black T-shirt with a Harley on the front, but she was warm and nice with Jennifer, taking on an almost motherly role.

  The day wore on and the night came fast, the burning Arizona sun dropping quickly from the sky. As it grew darker, the place filled up.

  If there wasn’t at least one fight that spilled out into the parking lot, it just wasn’t Chuck’s. That night the fight came early, just past eight, when two men started screaming at each other over a game of pool. Punches flew, Jennifer screamed at them to take it outside, and they did so, with three-fourths of the other patrons slipping out behind them to watch. Jennifer took advantage of the sudden slowdown and did some cleaning behind the bar. When she spun around, she was greeted by Rocky.

  That wasn’t his real name of course, but then Jennifer didn’t know his real name. Rocky was close to her in age, if not a couple of years older. He was the definition of a bad boy. He was a member of one of the local motorcycle clubs, a rowdy group of men who called themselves the Reapers. They all wore black leather vests or jackets, and on the back they had sewn large patches of a skull-faced grim reaper in tattered black robes, holding a long scythe.

  Rocky was handsome, with a square chin and dark brown hair grown a bit long. He had a scar just below his lip, and he drank too much. Jennifer knew she shouldn’t be interested in him, but she couldn’t deny the attraction. She had fantasized about the man so often, though she had never acted on it. He, of course, had tried. He kept trying with her, and Jennifer knew he wasn’t used to being turned down, judging by how many different women she had seen sitting on his lap in the bar.

  “Hey,” Rocky said. “Can I get another beer?”

  “All right,” Jennifer said. She turned and grabbed a bottle of the brand she knew he drank and placed it in front of him. He grabbed it and took a swig. She expected him to turn and go outside to watch the fight, but he didn’t. He pulled the bottle from his lips and looked at her. She giggled. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to come back to my place so I can fuck you all night,” Rocky said.

  Jennifer laughed, and though she felt a stirring between her legs, she shook her head. “You’re bad news,” she said.

  Rocky laughed. “That’s true,” he said, and then he turned and walked away. Jennifer watched his ass as he did so.

  2

  Saturday came around, and Jennifer found herself in Tempe with Ryan. The drive was nice; they made idle chit chat, and she learned about his childhood. He had grown up in Ohio and gotten a job there. The company had sent him to Arizona three years previously. He liked it, but he missed his family.

  Jennifer didn’t tell him much about her childhood. She had been born and raised in Maryland, where her father drank too much and her mother cheated on him constantly. They divorced when Jen was fifteen, and she got into her car and left the day after she graduated from high school. Her car broke down in Arizona, and that was where she had stayed. It wasn’t as nice or quaint a story as Ryan’s. He wouldn’t want to know about her asshole father or stepmother.

  The dinner was actually nice, and Jennifer felt a strange sense of pride when Ryan was given his award. He went up to the stage to accept it and give a small speech. Jennifer found herself feeling a little sad for the man as well. He would have much rather shared the moment with those he cared about back in Ohio. When he got back to the table and they finished dinner, Jennifer brought up old girlfriends.

  “I’ve dated a few women out here,” Ryan said with a shrug. “It never works out.”

  “You’re cute,” Jennifer said. “You have a good job. What’s the problem?”

  “They aren’t you,” Ryan said truthfully, bolstered by the three glasses of wine he had drunk.


  The dinner wasn’t over until nearly ten, and Ryan’s business had comped him a room at a nearby hotel, but he insisted he could drive her home that night.

  “I’m sure you want to get back home to your son,” he said.

  “He’s fine, and you can’t drive,” Jennifer countered. “And neither can I. We can sleep it off and head home in the morning. The sitter won't mind.”

  And that much was true. Barbara adored Jaxson, and it only took a phone call to make sure the older woman was okay with having him through the night. They were close enough to the hotel to walk—it was only a few blocks—and Jennifer and Ryan did just that.

  Jennifer stood with him in the hotel lobby, waiting as he checked in. She was feeling frisky, a bit lightheaded, and she felt like playing once more with the man who had such a massive crush on her. She pinched his ass and slid her hand into his pocket, brushing along his hardening member with the tips of her fingers through the material of his pocket, playing it off like an accident.

  “Looking for gum,” she said with a grin when he gasped and looked at her. Ryan got a keycard to the room and they rode in the elevator to the fifth floor. Ryan led the way down the hall and opened the door to the room.

  It was a nice room, spacious and with one bed. Ryan saw it and his face fell. “Oh, I didn’t even think,” he said. “I can sleep on the loveseat.”

  Jennifer laughed and slapped his arm playfully. “That’s a big bed. I’m sure we’ll both be fine in it,” she said, and she went in and kicked off her heels. She had dressed up for the dinner, a tight black dress that was low cut enough to show off her massive breasts, but not so much as to make her look trashy. It was short as well, but she had the body to make it work. She wore dark hose, stockings only, and when she sat on the end of the bed to take her earrings out, she crossed her leg and hem of the dress came up, her creamy, milky thigh showing above the material of the stocking.

  She saw Ryan looking and grinned. She kept her earring in, instead reaching down to her leg with one hand, running her fingers up the material of the stocking. “I love thigh highs,” she said in a soft voice, practically purring. “Don’t you?”

  Ryan was near the door. He nodded. She looked him over, smiling to herself when she noticed the bulge in his pants. The man might be a bit nerdier than most men she had been with, but it looked as though his cock was large.

  “Come touch them,” Jennifer said. She was telling him to do it. It was an invitation she didn’t expect him to turn down. She ran her index finger up her own thigh, catching the hem of her dress and hiking it up even farther. Ryan went forward. He stopped in front of her and reached down, but she slapped his hand away. The men she was usually with, they were in charge. Always. But with Ryan, Jennifer knew she could be in charge.

  “Kneel down,” she said. Ryan nodded again and did so. She wondered if he would be able to speak.

  He reached out for her again, but she slapped his hand once more. She stood up.

  “Do you think about me when you jerk off?” Jennifer asked the man. She felt her pussy growing hot, her juices beginning to flow.

  “Yes,” Ryan breathed.

  “You hold your cock, you milk it, you make yourself come, thinking about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you think about?”

  “Let me touch your stockings,” Ryan said.

  “Tell me what you think about first, and then you can,” Jennifer said.

  “I think about fucking you.”

  “How?”

  “Every way. Bent over the back of my couch.”

  “Did you jerk off while you thought of me last night? Knowing you were bringing me here?”

  “Yes,” Ryan said. “Let me touch you.”

  Jennifer was enjoying herself too much. She knew she would let the man have her, but she was having fun with him. No man she had fucked before would have asked her permission to touch her. Ryan wanted her so badly, and it was driving him nuts, and it drove her nuts in turn.

  “Tell me what you pictured me doing last night, and then you can.”

  “I pictured you sucking my cock as I drove here.”

  “Road head?”

  “Yes,” Ryan said.

  “Did you come in my mouth?”

  “Yes,” Ryan said.

  “Did I swallow it?” Jennifer asked.

  “Yes,” Ryan said.

  “Touch my stockings,” Jennifer said. Standing in front of the kneeling man, his face was eye level with her waist. He reached forward, a hand on each leg, starting at her calf and working up. His wrists met the hem of her dress and pushed it up. He kept raising his hands, and soon his fingers touched her skin, leaving the top of the stockings. He stopped then and worked his hands back down, onto the thigh highs.

  “Are you hard?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to see my pussy?” Jennifer asked.

  “I want to eat it,” Ryan said.

  “Lift my skirt up,” Jennifer said, and Ryan ran his hands back up her legs. He got to the dress and pushed it upward. She reached down to help him, taking the hem and pulling. She pulled the dress off in one motion, tossing it onto the floor. He looked up to her, his hands on her thighs, his fingers kneading the skin there beneath her stockings. She was wearing a black lacey thong and a matching bra with sheer cups. His eyes were on her rosebud nipples, hard and straining against the mesh.

  Ryan looked down then, to her pussy, to the lacy crotch of her thong soaked with her juices. Jennifer still wanted to be in control. She turned and walked away from the bed. Ryan watched her.

  “I didn’t mean to be too forward,” he said.

  “Stop apologizing,” Jennifer said, trying to sound stern. “Stand up.”

  Ryan followed her instructions, climbing to his feet. His cock pressed against his dark pants, and he still wore a shirt and tie.

  “Take off your tie,” Jennifer commanded.

  Slowly, Ryan did so. He draped it over the back of a chair.

  “Holy shit, you can’t even crumple up your tie? Put it on the floor,” Jennifer snapped. Ryan reached over, took the tie, and dropped it onto the floor. “Good,” Jennifer said. “Now take off your shirt.”

  She watched as Ryan started slowly unbuttoning the shirt, and she grinned and shook her head. With three quick steps she was in front of him, the fingers on each hand sliding into his shirt between the buttons. She pulled quickly and the shirt was open, some of the buttons popping off and flying across the room.

  “Do you want to fuck me?” Jennifer asked, standing so near him. She moved her hips forward so her pelvis pressed against his erection, still restrained by his pants.

  “Yes,” the man breathed.

  “Later,” Jennifer said with a laugh. She pulled the open shirt from his shoulders and then stepped back. She sat on the end of the bed and then lay back, scooting upward as she did so. “Taste me,” she said, looking down at the man. He obliged.

  Ryan came forward, crawling onto the bed and positioning his head between her legs. She still wore her thong, and she was sure he would pull it off her, like any other man would, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his lips against the tender and sensitive skin of her thigh. He kissed there, nibbled there, and she moaned and reached down, running her fingers through his hair.

  Finally, he was done teasing her. She felt his fingers pull aside the crotch of her thong, and then his tongue was on her, lapping up her steamy juices as it ran up and down her pink slit. His tongue focused on her clit then, and his fingers entered her, one at first and then two, pushing into her slowly as he sucked on her engorged clit and then curling upward to probe at her G-spot.

  Ryan put more care and love into eating her pussy than anyone ever had. It was obvious that he was eager to please her, to make her come, instead of worrying about coming himself. And come she did, a body shaking quake of passion erupting from her loins, clenching her stomach muscles, sending her pussy into spasms. Ryan rode it out, pro
bing her with his tongue as she came, and then he backed away, kneeling on the bed.

  “Stand up,” Jennifer panted, wanting to stay in control. Ryan did so, and she slid down the bed so she was sitting in front of him. She still wore a bra, still had the thong on and the thigh highs. She reached up and undid his belt, and then she unzipped his fly. She reached in and freed his cock. It was massive, bobbing in the air in front of her face with each beat of his heart. “What do you want me to do to you?” she asked as she smiled up to the man.

  “Suck it.”

  “Suck what?” Jennifer asked. She had just come, but she was aching to have his big cock inside her, but she would tease him and reward him first. She put her hand on his member, jerking him slowly. He was cut, his bulbous spongy head an inch from her ruby red lips.

  “Suck my cock,” Ryan practically gasped. Jennifer giggled. And then she kissed the head of his penis, a light touch that drove him wild. She didn’t know why she liked teasing the man so much, why she liked being in charge. She was never in charge. It had to do with that. Ryan reached down, placed his hand on the back of her head, and for a moment she thought he had finally had enough, that a bad boy was hiding somewhere in him after all, that he would hold her head still and fuck her face if she wasn’t going to do it. She prepared herself for that, but instead he chose to be gentle yet again. His fingers became entwined with her hair, but he didn’t force his cock into her mouth. He just gripped her hair, and he looked down to her and whispered.

  “Please,” he said.

  “Okay,” Jennifer said, and she took him into her mouth. His hard cock was long but wide, wider than any she had ever seen, and it stretched her lips to the limit. She sucked him slowly, her tongue twirling deliciously in her mouth as she took him as far as she could go, her lips almost at the base of his cock. And then she would rock her head back, and he would slide almost completely out of her mouth, his cock shining in the soft light, wet from her saliva.

  She kept her eyes on his as she blew him, but it didn’t take long until she couldn’t take it anymore, and she let his cock fall from her mouth completely. “Lay down,” she said as she stood. Then deciding he wasn’t moving fast enough, she shoved him onto the bed. She gripped his pants by the legs and pulled them off, so finally he was nude. She did the same then, sliding out of her thong and unclipping her bra before crawling on top of him. She reached down and steadied his throbbing cock with one hand as she lowered herself upon it.