“Look out below.”
Then I feel Lock’s lips on my thigh.
My pussy throbs and aches at the touch. My brain, as fucking nonfunctional as it is, tells me that this is not the right place to be doing this.
But the tequila? The tequila says that I don’t care.
I lift up the tablecloth.
My eyes fall on Lock between my legs. He looks up at me with that grin I expected.
“What that fuck are you doing?” I mean to sound pissed and annoyed, but my voice comes out husky and wanting.
“Testing your theory.”
Oh, so now he has jokes.
“Here? In public?”
“Why not? You wanted a good time.”
A tiny woman who looks like a six-hundred-year-old Thai version of Tina Turner takes the stage to the sound of thunderous applause.
I cannot even begin to tell you how thankful I am for this applause right now. All the insane clapping masks and drowns out the hungry moan that I let out when I feel Lock’s lips kissing my clit through my panties.
I look down under the table again, and all I can see are his broad shoulders. His head is up under my fire engine red dress, and the scruff on his cheeks is tickling the inside of my thighs.
The thrill of it all has me nearly exploding like a fucking geyser.
“You’re fucking bad,” I hiss at him.
But I don’t do anything to stop him, either.
From across the table, Becky gives me a thumbs-up and grabs my bottle of tequila from me.
Up on stage, the Tina Turner impersonator has started singing What’s Love Got To Do With It in Thai. If it wasn’t for the music itself, I’d have no fucking clue what song it was.
“Ooooohhhhh, fuck.” There’s a tremble in my thighs, and I grip the edge of the table.
Lock’s pushed aside my black lacy underwear, and his tongue has found my swollen clit.
I was already incredibly fucking soaked from the kiss.
Now, I’ve reached a whole new fucking level of wet.
His tongue is moving up through my folds slowly. Like he’s licking the tallest fucking ice cream cone ever made.
Lock’s tongue reaches the underside of my cli, and gives it a firm flick that makes me feel like Zeus threw a lightning bolt at me from Olympus.
I’m orgasming. I’m fucking orgasming in the middle of this goddamn bar—and I’m loving it.
I’m loving every fucking minute.
I’m loving it so much that as soon as the orgasm subsides, another one starts to build in its place.
If Lock makes me come again…oh, god, the dulcet tones of Ladyboy Tina Turner won’t be able to drown out the sound of the next orgasm. I won’t be moaning then—I’ll be fucking screaming.
I reach under the table to lift my dress from his head and grab a fistful of his hair.
It’s just as silky smooth as I thought.
“I fucking hate you right now.” My voice is so full of desire for him that even I don’t believe it when I say it. “You gorgeous, stupid, beautiful, horrible—”
“Why? Are you not pleased?”
“Oh, I’m pleased,” I moan—then whimper as his finger slips into me. “I’m just not happy about it.”
His finger twitches, burying itself deeper in my cunt. I bite my lip and slam my fist down on the table.
“God,” I moan through my teeth.
“Is that what you’re calling me now?” he chuckles. “Sammi, darl. I’m flattered.”
Then his lips return to my aching cunt. He’s kissing my clit just like he kissed me earlier. I’m on the verge of drowning in him—and with how wet I am, he’s probably about to drown in me right back.
It’s like I’m underwater, trying to swim for the surface, but his tongue and lips keep pulling me deeper. Its maddening, torturous, and exciting—all at the same time.
I can feel his finger sliding inside me as he explores my pussy. Slow thrusts rub right up against the right spot.
Yes, that one.
Asshole not only knows exactly where it is, but he knows just how to play with it.
It makes me hate him and want him and hate him all that much more.
My toes are curling inside my Louboutins. I’m so fucking close that I feel like I could reach out and grab it.
I finally break the surface and take in a lung full of air.
My knuckles begin to turn white, the harder I grip the table. My thighs shake uncontrollably.
Under the table, I can feel him eagerly licking at me. I can even—just barely—hear the slurping sound as he attempts to claim every last drop of my honey for himself.
Ladyboy Tina Turner and I hit the same high note when I come for him. She’s singing it, I’m screaming it while my cunt throbs and I hold Lock’s mouth in place.
Lock’s still grinning when he returns to his seat.
“How’d I do?” he asks. My honey is still glistening on his lips and chin in the glow of the stage lights.
“My theory holds,” I say with a shiver.
“Fucking love science,” he laughs. “Want a taste?”
He offers me his finger—the one that was just stroking my G-spot a second ago.
And either I’m too drunk or too horny or a little bit of both, because I don’t even hesitate. I pop it into my mouth, and I lick his finger clean.
“Christ,” Lock swears.
There’s a growl in the back of his throat as I suck his fingertip between my lips. It makes me wonder what he’ll sound like if I suck on…other things.
“Wanna get out of here?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
We’re out of our seats in an instant. He takes one of my hands in his. With his free hand, he points at my bottle of tequila.
“Bring the liquor,” he commands.
I snatch it out of Becky’s hand as we head for the door.
Lock
8:13 PM FRIDAY
She takes one last swig of tequila from the bottle and then she’s bounding behind me— Louboutin pumps and all—as we burst out the side door, slamming it hard against the brick building.
Next thing I know, we’re in an alley, fog rolling across the air. My dick is nearly toppling over the top of my unbuttoned pants as we find our footing in this dark, narrow space that smells kind of like a dumpster.
“Ungh…”
A moan escapes from deep in my throat as I lace my fingers through her luscious hair.
Never one to be outdone, that Sammi. Already at her knees, pulling my dick into her throat.
She’s sucking on my cock as if her life depended on it. I can feel her tongue stroking back and forth, tasting all of me as her mouth glides over my length, taking it all in.
I lean my head back against the brick, truly basking in the sensation.
Impressive.
Real fucking impressive.
I mean, let’s be real: it’s hard to find a chick that doesn’t gag on a 6-inch dick, let alone my massive cock. It’s been a struggle my entire life to get good head—honestly the only downfall to being as fucking hung as I am.
Most women will bitch that their jaw hurts after barely taking in the tip, looking up at me with tears in their eyes, ready to tap out after just a few moments with my monster python. And don’t get me started on anal!
But Sammi? She’s got a lock on this shit. I look down only to get a true sight of her with her mouth full of my cock, and I nearly blow my load as her piercing, emerald green eyes meet mine. They’re practically smiling, just fucking giddy as she chokes me down and goes back for more.
Her lush red lips are pursed around my dick, and the sheer force of her suction alone is driving me wild.
This girl could suck a golf ball through a straw, no doubt.
As I study that sexy fucking face of hers, I swear I even see the hint of a curled smile playing on her lips, even as they’re stretched taught and sliding smoothly up and down my entire shaft.
Meanwhile, Tina Turner’s voice is now belt
ing out both parts of “Baby Get it On,” loud enough that we can hear it from outside of the building.
Not one to be distracted, I grab Sammi’s head with both hands and thrust into her mouth, not giving one goddamn iota how it looks to any passers-by. I’m so close to the fucking edge that my cock is twitching wildly down her throat.
She grabs my balls with one of her hands and rolls them in her palm.
“Ah! Ungh!” I moan, addressing the entire fucking city at this point.
I fucking explode, shooting strand after strand of pearly cum down her throat. I raise my arm to my mouth and bite down to keep from screaming out her name. My mind is swimming in ecstasy as she continues to slide up and down my whole shaft, hungrily milking jet after jet, and swallowing every single drop.
My thoughts are clear, and my desire for Sammi is still burning hot.
I promised Sammi a wild night, and I’m going to personally fucking deliver.
Fuck Eggbert. Sammi is fucking mine tonight.
I push Sammi up against the brick wall of the club and aggressively press my lips to hers. When she gasps, I hungrily invite my tongue into her mouth.
I grab her tit in my hand, rubbing my thumb against her hard nipple through the silky fabric of her dress.
I yank her dress down, revealing her tits as I dip down to bite the hard nub before sucking on it like a hungry babe.
“Hey, that’s a fucking expensive dress!” she cries out.
“It was in the way.” I claim her lips with mine again, now sliding my hand up her thigh, inching the dress higher and higher until her pussy is in clear view.
I press my cock right up against her, grinding as I slip my hand down the back of her panties and grab a handful of her plump ass cheek.
I gasp against her mouth as she reaches down and firmly grasps my cock in her hand. She strokes me for what feels like mere seconds before positioning it right against her slick, parted pussy lips.
She’s so fucking wet, she rivals the Chao Phraya River. My cock slides inside of her easily, and all self-control I’ve managed to latch onto flies out the fucking window.
From the moment my cock slides fully into her, I pound into her as hard as I can. The look on her face tells me with absolute certainty that she’s loving every thrust.
She’s so tight around me. Her pussy is forcing a vacuum seal around my cock, sucking me back in with each thrust outward. It’s fucking intoxicating.
“Lo-ock!” My name never sounded so sexy on the tongue of a woman. But Slammin’ Sammi Brighton isn’t just any woman, that’s for goddamn sure.
“God, this is fucking amazing, Lock,” she moans between kisses. “Fuck, when you have incredible sex like this, who even needs love?”
“You’re goddamn right,” I agree, lying through my teeth.
The fact of the matter is that I’m fucking crazy about her.
But I’ll be damned if I admit it now and ruin the moment. I have my taste of Sammi again tonight and this time, I’m not letting go. My true feelings about her are strictly between me, her, and all those fucking nights that she can’t ever seem to remember we spent together.
“I’m so tired of men who say ‘I love you’ and then stick their dicks in the closest ladyboy the first chance they get. If that’s love, I don’t fucking need or want it,” she goes on babbling about.
I can’t blame her. Eggsy really fucked up with that shit. Dumb fuckin’ bloke.
“Ha,” I laugh. “I’m no stranger to spouting those words to women, but honestly? I just say it, because I want to fuck them in the arse. It’s the magical code word.”
“Code word? Fuck that. You don’t need a code word with me. You want to fuck me in the ass?” She cocks an eyebrow as a tempting smile spreads across her face before she utters the magic words. “Go for it.”
My dream girl right fuckin’ here, now explicitly telling me to fuck her arse.
She pulls away and then turns around, grabs her ass cheeks, and spreads them apart. Her tight rosebud now in full view sends a jolt coursing through my already-throbbing cock.
I’ve died and gone to fucking heaven.
I’m harder than I’ve ever been before at this point. The chance to fuck Sammi doesn’t come around often, but to fuck her in the ass?
I’m not willing to miss my chance.
I grab her hands and place them against the wall, then spread her legs with my knee like I’m about to do a damn cavity search.
I dip two fingers in her pussy and use them to lube up her ass, stretching her little by little so I don’t fucking rip her apart with my eager, girthy member. Once she’s slicked up nice and proper, I slowly slide in.
Holy mother of…
“Ohhh!” Sammi cries out in pleasure while pushing back against me.
Fuck. I was trying to take it slow and savor the moment, but she’s having none of it. I aim to please, so I let her set the pace and grab her hips to keep her steady.
“Fuck, Sammi! You’re so tight. Keep rocking like that, and I’m gonna fucking blow.”
I dig my fingers into her hips and take control once again. I force her up against the wall harder, brick fragments falling to the ground as she claws against the cement. Moving one hand to her shoulder and smacking her ass with the other, I go damn near cross-eyed still thrusting hard into her.
My cock throbs hard in her ass, and as I hear her wailing in her own intense anal orgasm, I cum.
Hard.
Loads and loads of cum spill from my cock right into her ass.
And then the weirdest fucking thing possible—a total fucking mood killer had it happened a moment sooner—Mysti May runs out the side door of the cabaret with a Celine Dion ladyboy in tight quarters.
What the fuck?
She grabs Sammi and pulls her arm…with me still inside her ass. I jerk away just in time to not have my cock snapped.
“I’m in love with Celine! We’re running away together,” Misty confesses. She glances back at the door quickly with fear in her eyes. “We’ve got to go. NOW!”
Matching Misty’s chaotic flow, we both start running. Somewhere amongst my clumsy attempt to tuck my cock back into my pants and Sammi straightening out her dress as our feet fly us forward, we get out of sight just in time for the door of the cabaret to fly open again with a thunderous BANG.
There’s now so very little I’m certain of. But there’s one thing I can say without a shadow of a doubt: I’m delivering on my promise to Sammi. This has been nothing short of a wild fucking night.
Sammi
11:21 AM SATURDAY
My brain is in the middle of a civil war that has me thrown about like a ship lost at sea.
One side is screaming at me to seek out the nearest bottle of cobra tequila and down it in the hopes that I can forget about everything that happened with Lock.
The other side knows that if I do, I’ll just find him to fuck him all over again.
My pussy is still aching from our apparent hot and heavy bang sesh.
God. What was I even thinking?
I make every effort possible to ignore my burning loins, which is really fucking hard to do.
And here I am in the middle of Bangkok, not even sure of what literal road to take, let alone what’s going on in my foggy, hungover head.
“Hey, when are we gonna get something to eat?” A familiar voice pipes up.
I turn to Percy, looking at her in disbelief. I really have no idea how she does it.
“Percy, we just ate, like, an hour ago.”
“So? I’m fucking hungover, and food helps.”
“Ooohhhh, can we get something cold? This heat is fucking killing me right now,” Mysti pipes in.
There’s a unanimous nodding of heads, and now we are apparently off to find something cold, despite how crucial it is to me for us to figure everything the fuck out. I just go with it; I need their memories so we can piece this shit back together.
The humid climate of Bangkok has my floral sundress alread
y starting to cling to my moistened skin. Just peachy.
“Alright, so let’s go over this one more time,” I start. “We showed up here with Lock. Percy, you went backstage and did what again?”
“I gave those ladyboys some much needed tips for their foundation and mascara,” she says with a triumphant smile that is infectious.
Despite Percy’s antics that just seemingly always get us into trouble, one redeeming quality of hers is that her make-up is always on point.
She could make millions with tutorials on YouTube. Seriously, she could. And it’s absolutely in her nature to tell those poor ladyboys what they’re doing wrong.
“Becky and Liam were onstage, doing everything but outright fucking,” Percy shares with the group.
Liam chuckles lightly to himself while Becky rolls her eyes, trying to hide her drunken shame.
“Ooohhh. I was with the love of my life at the table,” Mysti pipes in. She and ‘Celine Dion’ decide to lock lips. I still have so many questions about that, but it’s just not the focus right now.
“And then after that, we get kicked out,” I add. “Right?”
“Kinda. You and Lock had already left to get down each other’s pants.”
I’m sure that if looks could kill, Percy would be dead on the ground right now.
She gives me the wink and the gun, playing into that whole ‘You’re my best friend and you love me so I can say what I want’ bullshit.
“Wait. Why did we get kicked out?” I ask as we continue forward down this dirty, crowded path.
Mysti and Faux Dion share a knowing look but refuse to comment.
“On second thought, I don’t want to know,” I recant. “Where did we go afterward?”
“Oh! Guys! Ice cream!” Percy shouts as she scurries up to the cart. Mysti and her ladyboy Dion follow, and Becky and Liam trail behind.
I decide to partake as well. I play it safe and order some chocolate ice cream. Mysti gets some mango-flavored stuff; Not-Celine Dion gets lychee soft serve that actually looks pretty good; and Becky and Liam get some durian stuff.
And then we have Percy with her indulgent, extra self.
Instead of getting something relatively normal she gets this disgusting, lumpy corn-flavored ice cream.
“Do I even want to know if that is any good?” I ask, trying not to gag as I see her lick around the side of her cone.
The King's Virgin Bride Page 21
