BABY GIRL III - Love That Just Is (THE ERIK EAD MC EROTICA SERIES)

by Scott Hildreth

I nodded. I was still trying to process all of this.

  “The elevator here down to three, and follow the hallway all the way on the right side to the sign that says Operating Room Waiting. It’s a long way, don’t get discouraged,” he said.

  I nodded.

  He took a breath and exhaled, still rubbing his hands together.

  “You realize this is complicated at best?” he asked.

  “Yes sir,” I responded.

  “There are no assurances. He’s in extremely poor health,” he said.

  “I understand, do all you can,” I paused and then finished what I’d waited a lifetime to say.

  “Because he’s the only father I’ve got.”

  KELLI. Being with Erik made life simple. He made me feel like I had nothing to worry about. Ever. He made me feel like a woman. He made me feel like a child. He made me feel secure.

  I took a chance with Erik and he took a chance with me. Wayne Gretzky said, You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.

  Wayne was right.

  Erik was proving every day that he was so much more inside than what he was on the surface. And on the surface, he was magnificent.

  “Park Place. Ha fucking ha,” he said as he moved his top hat along the outside of the board.

  “Are you thirty-six, or ten?” I asked.

  “Park Place is prime real estate,” he said, smiling.

  I shook my head and held my hand out for the dice. As he handed them to me, he leaned over the board and kissed me.

  “I love you, baby girl,” he said.

  Melting.

  “I love you back,” I responded as he handed me the dice.

  “I’m going to own your little ass,” he said as he pointed to the Monopoly board.

  “You already do,” I responded.

  I took a drink of my coffee and shook the dice in my other hand.

  “Ead. Erik Ead,” the doctor bellowed as he walked into the waiting room.

  “Stay here, Kelli. I’ll be right back,” he said as he stood up.

  Erik walked to the far end of the waiting room and approached the doctor.

  Erik told me he would talk to all of the doctors, because he could understand them better than I could. They talked to him, and he talked to me. I liked it that way. Erik took care of me. They were operating on my daddy, and giving him a new kidney. Erik said it was a complicated operation, and that it took a long time. We had eaten breakfast, and now we were playing Monopoly. I love Monopoly. The game had been going on for hours.

  Erik stood and talked to the doctor for a moment, wiped his face, and then shook the doctor’s hand. He turned from the doctor, wiped his face with again with both hands, and walked back to the table.

  “Progress report,” I said as I looked up and into his face.

  “They’re done. It’s over,” he said and then took a breath.

  “Your father has a new kidney. He’ll be in recovery for a while, and then we can go see him,” he said, standing over me.

  I shook the dice in my hand.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “Uh huh, my turn,” I said as I tossed the dice on the board.

  “Seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Crap. Go To Jail.” I whined.

  Erik walked up to his seat and pulled it out from the table.

  “I knew he was going to be okay,” I said.

  “Oh?” he asked.

  “Uh huh, I said a special prayer,” I admitted as I handed Erik the dice.

  “So did I,” he said.

  “So did I.” he said again as he tossed the dice.

  KELLI. Any woman with half of a heart would fall in lust with Erik Ead in a matter of minutes of being exposed to him. Initially, I fell in lust. Now, I sat in the kitchen as madly in love with him as any woman could be in love with anyone. No one could know Erik, actually know him, and not love him. Underneath that hard outer shell, he was as caring of a human being as has ever graced this earth.

  People who don’t know of our relationship and our sexual preferences say Erik is cruel because of the sex that we practice. Erik is giving me what I want because he loves me. If I didn’t want it, he wouldn’t do it. He guides me, protects me, provides me with assurance, and explains things to me that I do not understand. He never mistreats me, or abuses me morally, mentally, or physically. He never harms me, or forces me to do anything I do not want to do.

  Exclude the sex from our relationship, and Erik Ead is an angel.

  An angel covered in muscles and tattoos.

  He stood in front of the stove and made breakfast while I sipped coffee. He was wearing sweats, slippers, and no shirt. As he reached for the batter his bicep flexed and his back muscles twitched.

  Squuueeeeeeee.

  “Put on a shirt,” I said as I sipped my coffee.

  Paul Thorn, Ain’t Love Strange played on the Ipod.

  He looked over his right shoulder and squinted.

  “Please?”

  “You know I hate wearing shirts in the house, especially in the morning before I shower,” he responded.

  “I can’t take it anymore. New house rule in my half of the house. Wear a shirt, or…” I tapped my finger on my lip and thought.

  “Or fuck me if it’s off,” I said.

  He laughed out loud.

  “You said the first time we were in here, the night we broke in – that I could never wear a shirt again, ever,” he said over his shoulder.

  He held up his arm and flexed his bicep.

  Sweet baby Jesus.

  “Things change. Rules change,” I responded.

  “You’re adorable,” he said as he flipped the pancakes.

  A small saucepan warmed up fresh maple syrup that Shakey brought back from a trip. I was excited to eat Erik’s special wheat pancakes and fresh syrup, but right now his biceps flexing, his back muscles twitching, and every available inch of his biker persona being covered in tattoos was just too much.

  “I designate the kitchen mine,” I said as I stood from the chair.

  “Yours?” he giggled.

  “Yep. Mine. Prepare for the wrath of me,” I said as I walked his direction.

  “You see me shaking?” he asked as he set the pancakes onto a plate with the others.

  He covered the plate in aluminum foil.

  “You’ll be shaking soon enough,” I laughed as I approached him.

  He held the bowl of batter over the stove and reached for the spoon. I wedged myself between his waist and the stove. As he opened his arms to allow me room, I stood on my tip toes and kissed him.

  “I love you, baby girl. Now scoot,” he said as he waved his hand that held the spoon.

  Batter dripped onto my arm. I looked at the batter droplets and back at him. As he watched intently, I wiped the batter with my fingertip. I licked the batter from the tip of my finger with as much eroticism as I could. It tasted unnaturally sweet.

  Leaning backward, still allowing me room to be between him and the stove, he stood and stared with his mouth open. He held the bowl in his left hand, and the wooden batter covered spoon in his other.

  I reached for the bowl and shoved my hand into the batter. As I pulled it out, batter dripped to the floor from my fingers.

  “Kelli, what the fuck?” he asked as he shook his head and attempted to pull the batter away.

  I slowly bent my knees. As I did, my chest pressed against his legs. I cupped my right hand close to my chest.

  “Scoot. Isn’t that what you said? Scoot,” I said as I pushed against his legs with my elbow.

  “What the fuck are you…” he began to ask.

  I cupped the batter in my right hand. As he stepped back, I grabbed the waist of his sweats with my left hand and yanked. They came down just far enough for his cock to flop out.

  Perfect.

  I grabbed his cock with my batter covered right hand and stroked it slowly. The batter was slippery. I stroked his cock until i
t was rigid. I cupped his smoothly shaved balls in my hand and covered them in batter. I pulled my hand back and slowly licked my fingers, looking up at him as I did.

  He set the bowl on the counter and turned off the stove.

  He reached for the remote control and turned up the music. Ben Harper, Brown Eyed Blues.

  He wants this as much as I do.

  “My kitchen, my rules,” I said before I swallowed half of his batter covered cock.

  I pulled my mouth from his cock, looked up at him, and licked my lips

  “Our kitchen,” he said.

  “My kitchen, your hallway,” I said, looking up at him.

  I winked and took his entire cock into my mouth. My throat convulsed. I held his cock deep and pressed against the shaft with my tongue. Slowly, I released his cock from my mouth. I sucked hard as I did. When it passed my lips, it made a pop.

  “Mine,” I said, “wear a shirt or get naked,” I said as I opened my mouth and guided his cock toward my lips.

  “Ours. No shirt. I never wear a…”

  I grabbed his ass in my left hand and took his entire length into my mouth. I took his cock into my throat and quickly slid back up the shaft. He gasped. I took it into my throat again. I closed my eyes. I released it. I took it into my throat again then released it. I squeezed his ass in my hand, and took his cock into my throat and held it. I opened my eyes and looked up. My throat convulsed. I pressed harder. I stretched my tongue out and licked his batter covered balls. He groaned. Slowly, I slid my mouth from his cock.

  “Who’s kitchen? Who owns this kitchen?” I asked, smiling.

  The music changed to R. L. Burnside, Someday Baby.

  There’s no way he won’t fuck me now.

  He looked down and slowly smiled.

  “Fuck it, baby girl. This kitchen’s yours. Come here. Now,” he said as he reached down and placed his hands under my arm pits.

  He hoisted me to my feet.

  “You’re always gonna be trouble aren’t you,” he laughed as he lifted me to the island -referencing the song’s lyrics, someday baby you ain’t gonna be trouble for me anymore.

  I nodded.

  I loved this kitchen. I loved it when he brought me in her the first time. That was so hot. Every time I stepped into the kitchen I got wet. This house is perfect for us.

  “Your kitchen, your rules. But now it’s sex, and when it’s sex, who calls the shots?” he asked.

  “The shot caller,” I responded, sitting on the island facing him.

  “Who’s the shot caller?” he asked as he spread my knees apart.

  I pointed at his chest, “You sir.”

  “That’s right. Don’t forget it,” he said as he turned toward the sink.

  “Relax, baby girl, I’m going to wash the batter off my cock so you don’t get a yeast infection,” he laughed.

  I leaned back onto my elbows and watched as he shuffled to the sink. He pulled his slippers off and kicked them aside. He pulled his sweats down and kicked them toward his slippers.

  And as he stood there naked, washing his cock in the kitchen sink, I realized that my life with him was going to be full of interest, full of sexual surprise, and would never, ever get boring. Erik was right. The sexual diversity of a Dominant submissive relationship would keep half of the people together that eventually grow apart.

  Tab Benoit, If I Could Quit You came on the Ipod. I closed my eyes and listened. I lowered myself onto the island countertop and relaxed. I heard Erik’s soft footsteps on the floor. He turned the music up louder.

  I smiled and kept my eyes closed.

  I felt something really warm on my breasts. The feeling moved to my stomach and stopped at my belly button. I opened my eyes. Eric was pouring the fresh warm syrup from the saucepan onto my stomach.

  Oh God.

  “Your kitchen, my rules now,” he said as he set the saucepan on the counter by the sink.

  He began to lick my nipples as he squeezed my breasts lightly in his hands.

  “Mmmm. This is good,” he said as he sucked and licked each nipple.

  I rose up onto my elbows and watched him suck and lick me. Watching his tongue glide across my syrup covered skin was more than I could take. I started to tingle. His mouth moved to my stomach and focused on the cavity of my belly button, which was filled with syrup. He slurped it from my stomach.

  As he sucked and licked the syrup, his right hand slowly wiped across my stomach and across my torso to my breast. I watched as his fingers slid gracefully across my nipple to my neck. He maintained eyes contact as he lifted his fingers and held them over my mouth. I extended my tongue and licked his fingers. The sweet syrup was somewhat erotic in my mouth. I sucked his fingers one by one, taking them deep into my mouth slowly and sucking them syrup free.

  Wax Taylor, Say Yes started to play as he pulled his fingers slowly from my mouth.

  His mouth moved to my swollen wet pussy. His tongue darted across my clit. He licked as he pressed his mouth hard against me, pressing my clit between his tongue and his upper lip. He repeated the process over and over. I closed my eyes tightly and focused.

  Don’t. Stop. Doing. That.

  “Erik…”

  “Erik, I’m…”

  “Oh God, Erik…please….”

  “Cum, I’m going to…Oh…”

  I raised my hips and moaned. He licked and sucked. I moaned again and thrust my hips toward his face. He slurped and sucked. He pressed his face hard into my pussy and forced his tongue in deep. I opened my eyes. I moaned.

  And.

  I came.

  “Oh my fucking God…”

  I opened and closed my eyes. I opened them again. I closed them and relaxed, uncertain of what happened.

  He continued to lick as I wiggled. The sensitivity was insane. The syrup, his tattooed body, the muscles, and of the waiting were more than I could take. I was at the height of climax now. He licked my clit as he slid his finger in and out of my now soaked pussy. He added another finger. His tongue worked magically across my swollen clit. I began to tingle. I felt as if I was going to explode.

  He started to moan as he licked and sucked. The moaning sent a sensation through my entire body. His tongue worked my clit as his finger slid in and out of my wet pussy.

  Holy fuck I’m going to die.

  “Stop moaning, I think…” I muttered.

  He moaned louder as he licked and sucked.

  “Erik, I think…”

  He moaned and worked his fingers deeper.

  “Oh my fucking God,” I stuttered

  I opened my eyes and looked down. He was watching me, his eyes wide open. He winked at me. Oh fuck. I tried to breathe. I couldn’t. I inhaled and almost choked. My breathing became stuttered. I felt as if this was going to be my last breath. My heart rose into my throat. I tingled down deep in my soul. He sucked, licked, and moaned.

  And I released.

  I came. And came. I worked my hips, thrusting myself into his mouth.

  He moaned as he licked.

  And I came.

  “Stop, please,” I begged.

  “I can’t take it, don’t touch me,” I whispered.

  He stood up and flexed his chest.

  Dear God.

  He grasped his cock in his left hand and started stroking it. I pushed myself up onto my elbows a little further. Standing there smiling, he continued to stroke his cock, the speed increasing as he stroked it. He flexed his biceps and made his pectoral muscles jump up and down.

  Kill me now, please.

  He reached toward the countertop and grabbed the saucepan of syrup in his right hand. I watched intently as he held it in front of his chest and poured the pan onto his shoulders, chest, and stomach. The syrup ran down to his cock and around to his thighs. As it touched his thighs, he flexed his muscles.

  Is this really happening?

  He took a few steps toward the island, raised his knees to the top, and jumped up onto the counter, straddling me. The syrup g
listened on his smoothly shaven skin. I licked my lips. He crawled across the counter on his knees until his chest was over my face. As he lowered his massive tattooed chest to meet my lips, I moaned.

  I can’t take this anymore. I felt my wetness running into the crack of my ass.

  I began to lick and suck his chest. The sweet syrup encouraged me to be more aware of where I was licking. His knees on either side of my thighs, I sucked and bit his nipples as I reached around his waist to support myself. His hands grasped my head lightly and pulled it tight to his chest.

  I moaned as I licked his chest.

  “Lean back,” he said softly.

  I leaned back onto my forearms, lowering my back closer to the counter. He lowered himself along my torso, dragging his chest along my nipples as he did. The sensation sent tingles through my spine. My body shuddered.

  Please, Erik. Fuck me.

  He leaned back on his knees as he held my head in his hands. He raised his knees and stood crouched on his feet, his stiff cock standing straight up. He worked the tip toward my face. As I opened my mouth he pulled my head onto the shaft with force. His cock forced itself into my throat. I coughed as it slid down deep. I opened my eyes and looked up. The sticky syrup pressed up against my face. He held my head there for a moment and slid his cock free of my mouth.

  As he lowered my head back to the countertop, he shifted his weight to his knees. His mouth met mine and as he kissed my lips lightly, he guided the tip of his swollen cock inside of me. As soon as it slid into my pussy, I began to contract.

  “Erik,” I gasped.

  “Shhhh,” he whispered as he kissed me.

  He slowly worked himself in and out of my pussy. His chest pressed against mine. The warmth of his body pressed against me. We were stuck together by a thin film of syrup. It was a sensation that words can’t describe. He kissed me as his hips worked slowly, softly biting my upper lip with each kiss. I felt myself start to tingle.

  I felt frail underneath his massive upper body. I felt small. I felt protected. I felt loved.

  “Erik, I’m going to…” I heaved for another breath.

  I dug my fingernails into his back, grabbing for security. I felt as if I were going to explode. His breathing became labored and his chest heaved.

  He licked my upper lip as his cock slid slowly inside of me.