by Gina Whitney
I released her hair, helping her to her feet. I made quick work of my pants and shirt. I wanted to undress her. And so I did. She spoke not a word, just lifted her arms over her head so I could remove her shirt, wiggling her ass to help with her jeans. There, I was proud of the goddess that stood before me. Proud she was mine. My eyes never left her body. I moved to the blanket, languidly stroking my cock.
“I want you to ride me. I want to see that tight little body move. Show me how my cock makes you feel. Show me everything, Beauty.” I laid back, fisting myself. There was no conversation. She straddled me, dropping to her knees in one move. She grabbed my cock out of my hand. With her other hand, she started to stimulate herself with her fingers. Motherfucker. If that wasn’t the hottest image ever. Short of bleaching my brain, I would never be able to forget it. I’d been with hundreds of beautiful, hot women. But Gia took it to a whole new level. She brought her fingers to her mouth, tasting herself. It was the sweetest torture I had ever experienced. My sack was tight. I squeezed my balls with my free hand. She nudged the head of my cock between her pussy lips with agonizingly slow movements. My vision blurred. It took every ounce of will power not to thrust upward. Finally, she relieved my suffering by impaling herself in one swift move. I usually didn’t do the bottom—ever. However, I wanted to watch her get herself off with my cock. I needed to see it as much as I needed air to breath.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so goddamned big,” she exclaimed. “I feel so deliciously stuffed right now. Your cock feels unreal.” She gave herself time to adjust. I twisted my hips, signaling for her to move. This was fucking with me big-time. She responded with a resounding smile, her eyebrow quirking up. She knew she was torturing me.
“Is my Master impatient? Doesn’t a Dom pride himself on his patience?” she taunted, lifting herself up and down on my cock. Motherfucker, she was right. In a normal world, I was the pillar of patience. But what was going on here with this woman was far from normal. She picked up the pace, performing a grinding move with her hips. My thoughts were jumbled. I wanted to answer her question, set her straight. But she was right. What was there to say? What was I going to do—make excuses for why I was so impatient with her, admit so early on I was pussy-whipped? Not likely. She played with her tits without me asking her to, pinching her nipples until her buds were rock-hard.
“Oh God, baby, you feel amazing. Your piercing is hitting my g-spot.” She lost it, screaming my name for the world to hear. That was the icing on my motherfucking caveman cake. That was the vision I would go to sleep to, and take everywhere with me. It was one of those erotic moments a man doesn’t forget. In the middle of an ordinary day something extraordinary happens. That was one of those times. Her riding me in daylight in the middle of a state park with no worries, just the two of us together. Life couldn’t get any better than that, than it was right then and there, with my hips meeting her sweet hole halfway, and the sounds of her pussy suctioning me out of my fucking mind.
“I’m gonna fuck you, now. Hard, Beauty,” I said, flipping her over. “On your knees, Gia.”
The command in my voice had her purring like a kitten. Nudging her shaking legs apart with my knees, I asked, “You ready, Beauty?” She answered by pushing back onto my cock. I responded with a thrust that almost sent her off the blanket. But my girl held her own.
“Jesus, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight and hot. My cock wants to live in this pussy.” My hands gained her hip for purchase. I ramped it up, my hips moving like pistons. I reached around to rub her clit. I needed her to come again. I wanted to hear the noises she made when she came. “I’m gonna ruin you, babe. You’re mine. Do you hear me, Gia? Fuckin’ mine.” My cock slammed into her heat.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” she crooned, her pussy tightly gloving my cock, draining me. My muscles tightened to the point of spasm. I grabbed her hair, pulling her up to me, my teeth latching on to the meat between her neck and shoulder. My load came hard and swift, filling her sweet cunt until it seeped down the inside of her thighs. I released her shoulder, and sat back on my legs. Both of us were panting furiously. She was in a downward dog position. I laid down, pulling her next to me, face-to-face. I peeled her sweaty hair away from her face. It flushed beautifully. She was stunning. All I could think about was the night ending with her in my bed.
Abel promised to take it easy on the way back until I got used to the feel of the bike. Between the ridiculously loud exhaust pipes and the weaving through traffic, I thought I was going to lose my shit again. Go figure, after all the abuse I put my body through, at the first thought of dying, I lose my shit.
We spent five minutes outside Finns discussing plans for the night before going in. I have to admit. I was a little embarrassed as to the fiasco of what went down the night before with Ender. My nerves were frayed. After what had happened, the last thing I needed was to see Ender. I wanted to punt-kick him in the balls. So I decided to text Cindy: Hey, chick, I’m with caveman @ Finns. Get dressed and meet us. Woody’s gonna be here. Xx
Right away she texted back: Get in here already. We heard you pull up eight minutes ago. What’s the problem? Caveman beat the box too hard? LMBO! Xx
I came back at her: Har har har. Fuck you very much. CU in 2. :p
Abel secured our helmets on the back of his sex machine, grabbed my hand firmly, and walked us in. Finns was a local favorite. Its home-style, comfortable vibe provided a down-to-earth atmosphere we relished. The décor was rustic with picnic tables lined up along the walls. Bigger tables were arranged in the middle. Our crew sat with two picnic tables pushed together. And it felt great calling them my crew. It felt like a whole new life. A life I finally wanted. A life I chose. However, we were sure to see people we knew there. Cindy and I spent many football Sundays enjoying comfort-food and drinks in that place—not to mention the hot guys in football jerseys. It should be real interesting when Abel’s fans see him there with me. Come to think of it … I wondered why we were able to take his bike out. Security was so dead-set against it last time. I back-burned it until I was able to ask him about it later.
At the hostess desk, the girls fawned over him. And he ate it up, his dimpled smile setting fire to their panties. After posing for a few photos with his groupies, we were escorted to a private table toward the back. Cindy was in her retro Frankie Says Relax tee-shirt paired with ripped jeans. She and Woody were talking very closely. Dave was texting someone. Jake was flirting with two cute waitresses. And Ender’s eyes never strayed from us.
My stomach twisted nervously. He smiled and winked. Jackass. Abel squeezed my hand in affirmation. I stood stock-still, waiting for Cindy to notice we were there. She finally pulled her head out of Woody’s face, jumping up to greet us.
“ ‘Bout time chick.” She kissed my cheek and hip-checked Abel. I watched as the paparazzi started setting up outside with their long lens cameras. I was nervous as hell, yet oddly fascinated by it all. I’d always fantasized about being a celebrity. What would it be like to be on TMZ or one of those shows? Make the papers? How did it all work? I had seen an entertainment show that explained that some celebrities scheduled the paparazzi—told them where they’d be, that type of shit.
“Cindy.” He nodded his hello, then dropped my hand to greet the boys. Hugs, fist-bumps, and shaking of hands went on for ten minutes—real bromance-type stuff. I laughed to myself. Ender did some complicated handshake with Abel that had me spellbound. I guess all was forgiven between the two—which was a relief. Jake poked my side, patting the seat next to him in an effort to get me to sit. I hadn’t realized I was standing there gawking at the groupies taking videos with their camera phones. Who lives like this? The table of boys went about their business unruffled. I caught Cindy’s eye and she just shrugged. I took Jake’s hand, stepping over the bench seat to sit. He poured me beer from one of the pitchers on the table. I wasn’t a beer drinker, but when in Rome.
“Thank you, Jake,” I said. He nodded. Abel lifted me off the sea
t only to redeposit me on his lap.
“Ah, that’s much better,” he crooned, inhaling my hair. “Smells very outdoorsy. Maybe pine?”
I elbowed him in the gut, eliciting a grunt. The table erupted in laughter. The boys all high-fived me. And just like that, my nerves dissipated. I settled into Abel’s form, taking full advantage of his perfectly sculpted, hard body. The servers laid a smorgasbord of good eats before us. I think Abel ordered three of everything on the menu. How those boys stayed so fit was a conundrum. I was positivity shocked how high each of them filled their plates. They were sexy hot rockers with tatted arms, pierced brows, and crazy hair—but their demeanor spoke of culture. I didn’t know everyone’s stories. What I did know was, they fit together. They were of the same breeding. I would have been very surprised if someone told me otherwise. These boys exuded sex appeal like a stripper on a pole. It was just there. Just watching them lick their fingers was like watching a porn.
The boys spoke of their European tour, finalizing last-minute bookings across the continent. My life wasn’t that fucking fascinating. Cindy and I fell into an easy conversation as to what we were wearing for the rest of the festival. We lived a boring life compared to the guys. I tried my hardest to ignore Abel’s fingers tracing the words I want to fuck you on my back continuously. I had to laugh at how persistent he was. I couldn’t laugh at how turned on I was. He demanded my attention. He finger-fed me one of the most erotic meals of my life. He didn’t give a fuck who was watching or taking pictures. He made his intentions very clear for the world to see. To say it didn’t thrill me beyond words would be a lie. He insisted on hand-feeding when we were together. His eyes fixed on my mouth as I took in every delish morsel he fed me. However, he was interested in what Cindy and I were talking about. I loved that. Most men wouldn’t give a shit about girl-talk. He was different. Cindy and I made a shopping lunch date at the mall. I needed some new things. I wanted to get some jaw-dropping outfits. Cindy and I had a real eye for that kind of stuff.
“Anything you want, Beauty, just ask,” Abel whispered, kissing my neck. My body erupted in goose bumps. A shiver ran down my spine, curling my toes. My nipples were in need of attention. Oh, God. Anyone could see how turned on I was. Looking around to pour another glass of beer, Ender’s lusty eyes zeroed in on my nipples. Shit. I excused myself, dragging Cindy to the four-stall bathroom.
“Where’s the fire, chick-clit?” Cindy asked, digging her lipstick from her jeans to apply.
“Ender’s being weird and creepy. I just don’t want a repeat. Nor do I want to point it out to Abel. I don’t want any drama tonight.” I borrowed her lipstick, refreshing mine.
“Ah, that’s just Ender. He’s a big flirt. He would never act on it.” She threw her head upside down, shaking out her hair. Wow, she really must’ve liked Woody.
“I’ve been so preoccupied with my own shit. How’s yours?” I asked, washing my hands. I was the worst best friend in history—so fucking selfish. I knew she didn’t take it personally considering who I was with.
“My shit’s good. Real good.” We both fell over laughing. Good times. No matter what. We never missed a beat. Our conversations picked up wherever we left off. We were lucky to have each other. I was especially lucky she still embraced me despite the multitude of secrets I was keeping. She knew some of them, but not all. We walked hand-in-hand out of the bathroom, laughing back to the table.
And then I saw her, the gorgeous bimbo-twat from the night before who wrapped herself around Abel like a rash. Instinctively, my fingers tightened, crushing Cindy’s.
“Ow!” She frowned shaking out her hand.
“That’s the trashy model from last night.” I was seething. She had her arms around his neck and was getting right up in his face. Camera bulbs were flashing. We were pushed into the wall, as patrons hurried out of the bathrooms to catch sight of what was going on.
“She’s a fucking troll. That’s Morgana, his ex. That’s the fucking cunt who’s blackmailing him to get him back. Nice try, asshole.” Cin grabbed me by the arm, storming through the crowd of spectators. Fuck. My brain was swirling with thoughts of homicide. Bloody, dismembering homicide. Her hands were massaging his biceps. Security was around them, partially blocking my view. I looked to the table—and all conversation stopped. The whole group held one collective breath. We were bearing witness to intimate dialogue between two former lovers. They had history. That much was clear. It fucking gutted me. She knew him better than I did. Knew what he liked. Knew what he didn’t like. My fingers burned with energy as I seethed in anger. I started to feel real fucking punchy. My mind was concocting more scenarios between those two than I could keep up with. I had the need to hurt her. Disfigure her. It was insecure of me, and childish, but I couldn’t help it. Her presence reminded me I wasn’t part of his world. Didn’t grow up in his circle. I wasn’t cultured enough to be with him. I wasn’t a country clubber. We were social mismatches. But, sure as I was standing there, I was not letting her have him, either. Mine. A big-busted server was walking by with shots atop her tray. I reached over and grabbed two.
“Heeeey!” she cried. “What the fuck?”
She looked between Cindy and me. Damn, she had an annoying voice. I downed the first shot. Whatever the fuck it was, it was god-awful. Big-tits was standing there in complete horror, with her mouth gaping open. Did she think I was gonna give them back to her? Cindy was rubbing circles on my back. She knew how insecure I was on any given day. It was just my past fucking with my head. The way this man made me feel—I couldn’t lose it. Not now. What would I do if he decided to be with her again? Fuck. I needed something quick to defuse my panic. My eyes zoomed in on where she was touching Abel. Big-tits was still yapping about me having to pay for the shots.
“Chick, if you know what’s good for you, keep walking,” I said, downing the second shot and grabbing a chair for balance. Ew. Worst shots ever. She was still standing there with her hip extended until Cindy threw a twenty on to her tray. Christ.
“Pump your brakes, doll.” Cindy was worried I was gonna lose it. She was right. I needed to reel it in. I didn’t want to be perceived as a loose cannon. I had to handle this properly. I had to show Abel I was the right choice. If he was going to choose, I was going to make sure it was me.
“Yep, just did. It’s all good, chick. I got this.” I threw my arm around her. I needed that little bit of libation to compose myself. I walked us up to the security surrounding Abel, and tapped one of the guards on the shoulder. He moved a smidge so I could wiggle through. I could hear what Abel was saying. He was facing away from me. But he was speaking in icy, malevolent tones—just the opposite of how he always spoke to me. His posture was stiff. I found a tiny little rainbow in that. Here goes nothing: I walked over to him, putting my arm around his waist.
“Hey, babe. Problem?” I asked, looking up at him. His eyes turned down to my lips and he softened immediately. Bingo.
“Not at all. She was just leaving.” His tone chilled even me. Her astute, eagle eyes caught my arm around him. With my other hand, I was rubbing his thickly corded abs. I winked. Mine. Her face rinsed red with anger. Her fists balled. A repugnant smirk twisted her lips. All of this was unspoken girl-code for bring it. Cindy had better give me some kind of medal for my stellar behavior. I was so proud of myself. Losing my mind would have been what the bitch wanted. Fuck her scrawny ass.
“And you are?” she asked snidely, eye-balling me. Abel’s answer would be interesting. Who was I, exactly, to him? I wanted to hear myself, so I looked to him, and then to her. I was ready to respond for him, but he beat me to it.
“She’s my sub. My new sub,” he answered, taking the wind out of her sails. She stepped back in horror before stepping forward to touch him. He moved away. I wasn’t thrilled that he told her that I was his sub, because I thought I was more than a private agreement. Why couldn’t he have just said I was his girlfriend? What was the difference between a submissive and girlfriend? My preferenc
e would’ve been for girlfriend. But I couldn’t afford to be picky at this point.
“She’s no sub! Look at her. Please. She’ll never be able to make you happy, Abel. She can’t give you what I can give you. The control you crave.” She snarled, turning to me.
“You’ll never take my place, hon. Not in his bed. Not in his heart. And definitely not as his submissive. That’s for fucking sure. Enjoy it while it lasts. It won’t be long. That I can promise you.”
She turned away, storming off toward the back door. The crowd parted for the piranha as she made her way there. I won’t lie. Her declaration nearly stopped my heart. I was nauseous, even. Abel lifted my hand, kissing the top of it, his eyes glued to mine in a silent affirmation. It was meant to comfort me—but it didn’t. Quite the opposite. That piranha bitch got to me. How could I possibly compete with his past? With her? He must have felt it in my stance. I was stiff. Long gone was the relaxed, vivacious, party girl.
“I’m sorry. She’s a vengeful bitch who’s used to getting what she wants. She’s desperate. And it makes her look weak. I hate weak.” Well, thank fuck I hadn’t gone all Medusa. I had learned a quick, vital lesson. Less is more. I wasn’t entirely positive I’d be able to pull it off all the time. I’d try, though. I’d try for him, for us.
“Let’s load in,” he yelled to the boys. Dave threw a few hundred dollar bills on the table and we were out. A few media trolls followed us out the door, hurling questions at warped speed. Where was Cindy? I couldn’t go back in for her. She could’ve been ahead of me. I needed to make sure Cindy wouldn’t be left behind. Christ, where was she?
“She’s with Dave.” Abel leaned down, speaking directly into my ear. His warm breath sent a thrill of excitement rolling through my body, causing me to tremble. Holy fuck. He chuckled at that. Right in the middle of this mass exodus, my pussy was clenching just from the sound of his voice. He had that effect on me. His sex appeal exuded all things Alpha. His Alpha had Alpha. He was walking, talking, breathing, and living sex. I nearly tripped over a reporter who jumped out into our path. Abel pulled me closer to his side.
