I pat my sons back and first things first. So I know I have a James and a Johnathan. But what do you name your son so he is named after both men in his life? Even though James’s first name is Calvin. Nobody knows that. But I hate all boys name with a J other than James and Johnathan.
I’ve got it!
“I have the perfect name. Since I don’t like any other J names for boys. I think his name should be Eric. And she should be Jenna named after you two and he can be named after mommy.” I rub my sons back again. He’s fast asleep on my chest and Jenna is sleeping in Papa Bear’s arms, tucked against his chest. I guess I won’t be the only one using that spot anymore. I’ll have to share my lover’s chest with the babies. Not that I mind.
“I agree to those names,” Johnathan says.
James nods approvingly and Deacon cheers, pumping his tattooed fists in the air. I roll my eyes at him and shake my head, because he’s acting a fool.
“Eric Ryan Striker,” James says finishing off my sons name and I like it but Johnathan most certainly does not. He crinkles up his nose and squints his eyes, in blatant disgust.
“I know this is going to blow you all even more out of the water. You know, because I’m such a nice guy.” I can’t help but bark a mocking laugh and he turns his head and rolls his eyes at me, swirling them around in his sockets like a cartoon. Making my smile widen even further. “Cammy and I’ve talked about it, and since James and I are going to both be dads. We thought the kids should have both last names. Striker-James or James-Striker. It’s pretty rock-n-roll and it sounds cool. I’m a bigger fan of the first combo with James finishing off, it just flows better. But whatever you two want.” He finishes by rubbing his hands on his pants. Like there’s dirt on them or something.
I check James and he’s crying again. Holding our daughter closer to his chest. His head’s tucked down, nuzzling the top of her head with his nose. Johnathan pats him on the shoulder and Stacy hands him a Kleenex. Which he accepts and dabs the corners of his eyes and nose.
“Eric Ryan Striker-James it is.” Deacon cuts in. “And? Jenna what?”
“Jesus D, can you stop being so pushy?” I snap in a grumbly whisper. “I just had two babies. After I was woken up as my water broke and I was rushed into an emergency C-section. Give me a damn break.”
He’s went from cute, normally annoying Deacon, to I want to castrate him and wear his testicles as a necklace, Deacon.
“Jenna Stacy Striker-James”
“I do hope you two realize if you name her Jenna with the last name James they are going to think she sounds like a porn star.” Deacon barks a laugh, which startles Eric. So I give him the stink eye to shut his mouth and he zips his lip in an instant.
Slowly we talk it out a little more and finally we have decided Jenna Anne Striker-James. All the kids have a mouthful of names, but, I think it’s sweet the men want to share the last name spot with them and who am I to argue? Johnathan has obviously turned over a new leaf and I couldn’t be happier about that. That will make for a much easier life if he stays the course and doesn’t go back to rude Johnathan. I can only hope. Fingers crossed.
Chapter Five
~Johnathan~
“That went better than expected,” Cammy states happily as we pull up the gravel to the garage. Davis just tailed us home, then left. It was horrible trying to get out of the hospital parking lot without hitting a news crew or paparazzi. Apparently the word has flown the coup that fast, about my babies being born. Being a rocker has its perks but the media that comes along with stardom is definitely not one of the bonuses.
Dylan’s in the back of the car, slumped over, sound asleep. He should be tuckered out after the long day we’ve had. We spent the entire day at the hospital with my newborns, Jenna and Eric. I really do love those names. And now it’s nearly eleven. Dylan, after he woke up at the hospital, was ecstatic to see the twins. Emily was notably exhausted but she still gave him her 110%. She had him sit next to her as he took turns cradling each baby in his arms. They talked about cartoons as Emily pulled her breast from her hospital gown and fed each of the twins separately. I had to leave the room as soon as she started. My cock was hard with her just mentioning the need to feed our babies. Then when she pulled her breast out— like it was no big deal, I had to conceal my giant erection and go down to grab myself a little jug of chocolate milk from the cafeteria on the first floor. Nobody else seemed to care. Even Deacon kept his composure. Sly, self-controlled bastard.
I don’t know what’s up with him but he’s like a totally different man when it comes to Emily. Other women he treats like trash and sex objects. Then you’ve got her and he worships the ground she walks on. Sticks up for her, brings her flowers every time he visits. I never thought I’d see the day he was half a gentleman to any woman. Especially one who would never consider spreading their pussy lips for him to taint with his dick.
“Yeah, it went well,” I comment back to Cammy, climbing out of the driver seat and digging into the back to carry Dylan to bed.
Unlatching his seatbelt, I toss his tiny noodle arms over my shoulders and pull him into my embrace. He’s as droopy, as a rag doll.
“So you’re seriously okay with naming the babies with two last names?” Cammy inquires lightly as we make our way into her little house. The property here has four buildings. Two small houses, one for Cammy and the other for Stacy and Kyle. We have the main house and then a large garage that I’ve had converted into a music recording studio and small loft apartment for the boys to crash in if they get too drunk when we rock out.
“Yes, I’m fine with it,” I half tell the truth. I can’t very well tell her or Emily why I agreed to the names that Cammy and I’ve discussed before. Because when Cammy suggested it to begin with, I was 100% against the ridiculous notion. Now… On the other hand. Not so much. And I’m about to tell you why. As soon as I put her to bed. Alone. I’ve got some serious plans to construct.
I tuck Dylan into his small twin sized bed with Spongebob covers and he doesn’t even stir. He’s fast asleep. Cammy kisses his forehead after I finish and grabs my hand, folding her fingers into mine and pulls me in tow out onto the attached brick patio.
“I’m proud of you,” she smiles sweetly, flipping her blonde hair elegantly out of her face as she leans up, pressing a soft supple kiss to my cheek. She’s really great. No wonder I love her…too. It’s not easy being in love with two women. It’s probably the most difficult thing I’ve ever felt. It’s a constant push and pull. A forever back and forth of bountiful fucking emotions. And I don’t do emotions well.
“There’s nothing to be proud of,” I state, taking a step back. If she gets much closer this semi is going to turn into a full hard-on and I’m not going to be able to go to bed with a clear conscious or clear head. Who the hell am I kidding? I live with the dirtiest most tainted conscious known to mankind. I’m a fuck up. I don’t know why I’m trying to be Mr. Goody now. Awe…What the hell…
I grab the back of Cammy’s neck and she squeals.
That’s right baby. This is about to happen.
“Get on the fucking ground.” Gripping the back of her neck, I press her down onto all fours and she listens, without so much as a fight.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” I order and unzip my fly, tugging her hair with my opposing hand. I reach into my boxers and whip out my big anaconda sized dick. I smack it on her extended tongue over and over and the loud slaps echo in the courtyard. I just hope Stacy doesn’t see this or he’s gonna get one hell of a show.
“Suck it, now,” I bark, twisting her long hair into my fist and shoving my meat down her throat in one hard jab.
Ah… That’s right… This bitch is going to suck me good.
Her eyes flood with water, taking me all the way down into the throat. She violently gags, turning her face red and I pull out slightly and fuck her mouth again. Her throat spasming around my thickness.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth so hard
baby,” I growl, jackhammering into her hole. Her eyes pouring with watery tears as each gag erupts into the back of her throat.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth, bitch? Or do you want me to come in your pussy?” I snarl, getting into it. My thigh muscles flexing as I put all of my anger and pain into each thrust. Fuck you Emily! Fuck you for wanting James!
Cammy groans deep in her throat and nods. “Answer me. Do you like me fucking your mouth?” She nods again, over and over and a moan climbs out of her throat, as I pull out just enough to give her air.
“Do you want to play with yourself? Or do you want me to do it?” I twist her hair harder and she whimpers slightly. Withdrawing myself from her silken mouth, I smack the side of her face with my dick and she moans so loudly I’m sure the neighbors can hear us.
“Quiet, Dylan is asleep, you kinky kinky bitch.” I smack her cheek again with my saliva soaked cock. Leaving a dark red imprint in its wake.
“I’m your kinky bitch. Fuck my pussy… Fuck it all… Make me come for you,” she whispers with a shaky breath. Cammy, Cammy, Cammy, my kinky sex crazed whore.
“Stand up and push yourself against the house, spread your legs and be ready. I’m going to rip your pussy apart,” I taunt her and she obeys. On wobbly legs, she presses her breasts against the house and spreads her long sexy limbs.
I know this makes her hotter. So the ruder and more abusive I am, the more she wants it. I’ve never met a woman who loves to be controlled or put through pain more than she does. She craves it. The more I redden her skin, the more she begs for it. I’ve always been a man to love control. Except with Emily. With her I’ve always wanted to be gentle and caress her. I have no idea why. But with every other woman, Cammy included, I’ve required the control. I’ve needed to be mean and talk dirty. To degrade them. It feels so fucking right. Like a part of me that’s constantly begging to come out and play.
“You ready, my bitch?” I roar, and drop my bottoms to the ground, leaving only my shirt on. My primal instincts taking hold.
“Yes...” she purrs, her hips dry humping the air.
“Pull up your dress and slide your thong to the side.” I order, standing but a few feet from her. The salty breeze flaring goose bumps over my tattooed skin, as it wafts her fragrant aroma into the air, teasing my insatiable hunger.
She does as she’s told and I reach out for her, sliding my hand along her hipbone and grip it firmly with my big hand. It looks huge against her thin body. With my other, I pull it back and CRACK. I slap her bare ass with all of my strength and she instantly shutters and moans in pure unadulterated ecstasy, dropping her head against the wall. Breaking into an all-consuming orgasm. I steady her so she doesn’t fall as her body convulses and her back bows outward, air shooting in and out of her lungs in quick noisy spurts. Her ass is glowing fire engine red.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, lifting her slightly and bending my knees so her ass is nestled perfectly against my thickness. I rub it up and down her dripping pussy, pulling it up her butt and back down again. The silken friction making me need to come inside her tight hole even more urgent.
“Are you ready?” I slow myself, angling my dick at her entrance.
She nods and presses back against me. Willing me inside her.
I slip into her hole and it fits me perfectly. Taking all of me in one quick thrust.
Picking up speed, thrusting into her blow-for-blow, my balls slapping her clit in firm powerful strikes. Making her writhe against me as each hit brings her closer and closer to another orgasm. I can feel the tension in her body building. I have gotten to know her body’s telltale signs for months now.
“You ready… my bitch?” I bend back slightly and administer another mild blow to her other ass cheek. Her pussy walls contract and I know I’m going to blow my top and she’s going to go with me. I’m on the brink. Damn, her pussy is like velvet heaven.
Sucking my thumb into my mouth, I moisten it up and glide it between her cheeks, resting it on top of her tight little rosette. All perky and waiting for me to fuck it with my thumb. If my cock wasn’t all ready to blow, I’d be pounding it in there right now.
“Fuck Cammy, you feel so good,” I growl, pressing my thick digit into her eager pucker. I curve it inside of her and press the fleshy softness of her beautiful entrance. This is total sensory overload for me. I can’t take this anymore. My cock jerks. Oh no you son of a bitch. Not now. I need to fuck her a bit more. I tighten my six pack and stare away from her beautifully reddened ass, over to the tall green bushes to bring myself back from the intense climatic edge.
“More… I need more…” she presses back, squeezing her asshole around my finger and her pussy around my cock. Fuck, that’s it, I can’t take it anymore. Digging my fingers into her hips with my only free hand, I jackhammer into her. The slapping of my balls and cock pressing relentlessly into her soaked pussy sings in the air, filled with our panting and …. Oh fuck….
“I’m coming!” I grunt deeply, biting my bottom lip as my cock jerks into her tightness, filling it with my cream.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads over and over, her moans steeped in wanton need.
I don’t stop. I place my other thumb to her ass and slip it in. Hooking both of them inside, I pull her pucker apart. And she screams out, her body shaking as it pulsates around my still hammering dick. Making her come, hard.
“Oh god,” she moans, gasping for air.
Holding onto her, I slip my dick out and swoop her into my arms. Carrying her twitching post coital body into the house and tucking her into her bed, pulling the white sheets up to her shoulders. My cock’s still swinging out in the open. She brightens a big sated smile at me, her eyes squinted and smoky. I swiftly peck her cheek and disembark from her house, grab my pants and find my way back into my house to do what I’ve needed to do since I got home. Decide how to deal with the new James revelation.
Throwing my dirty clothes in the hamper, I flip on the shower to acclimate the temperature and run my finger through the steams of water. Ah… Just perfect.
Stepping into the spray, I let the hot steamy water cascade down my back. Soaking in its therapeutic grandeur, I ponder, asking myself: What to do, what to do?
Last night before Short Stack went into labor and gave birth to our twins, I was up late basking on the back deck, nursing a bottle of Bud after I had just gotten through with fixing my problems with Cammy. She wasn’t pleased when I stopped fucking her to talk with Emily. I smoothed it over by promising her the ‘night of her life.’ Or that’s how I put it. And that’s how I performed. Tying her up in the spare bedroom, paddling her ass within inches of giving her lasting welts. She came over and over. I even used a vibrator to force her to orgasm. She came so many times she was literally begging me to stop. Like I gave a shit. I wasn’t going to stop. And I fucked her afterward and then went to drink a beer, leaving her to rest and ultimately pass out in the guest room. Alone. Yes, I’m a prick like that.
Then my phone rang, and it was James.
“What do you want?” I hissed at him.
“We need to talk. It’s important and I’d appreciate the assholery to be at a bare minimum during this conversation,” he said in his typical unyielding tone. His voice has always had that serious, don’t-fuck-with-me weight behind it. Not sure how Emily’s ever saw past that. But apparently she has.
“Alright...” I sighed with rather loud gusto. What can I say? I wasn’t exactly excited to be hearing from him.
Setting my beer down on the table, I tucked my hands behind my head, as I held the phone to my ear with my shoulder. Awaiting whatever was to come next. My eyes floating out into the sky. The stars were hidden behind the thick marine layer. But it was still pretty. As it always is year round here in Malibu.
“I can’t give you the details. All I can say is that the government’s ordered me to come in. I don’t have a choice. I’ve been making calls since she went to sleep, which has done me no good. My hands are tied
.” His tone was level, but I could feel the anxiety in the heaviness of his words. So much that I was actually starting to feel a little sorry for the man.
“Gone? How long?” I asked, letting let my eagerness slip. There’s no guessing that I’m elated to be having him out of the picture for my sake. But I dread it for Emily’s. She loves him. I just hope it’s not too damn much.
“I haven’t the slightest clue. But what I am telling you, I am telling you in confidence,” he stated, peeking my curiosity further.
“Go on...”
“I’m leaving Thursday morning. I’m not telling her until then. And when I do….leave, I need you to look out for her. Okay?” Was James choking up? I seriously thought I might have heard him stifle a sob. But I couldn’t tell.
I agreed, of course. As if I would have allowed it to go any other way. So, our conversation carried on for a few more minutes and in the end I was left with a sense of mild sadness but more happiness filled its place. Happiness for me to be able to possibly talk her into loving me, again. Needless to say I crawled into my king sized bed, as happy as a drunk rocker in a room full of sexy, big titted hookers. And let me tell ya, that’s really fuckin’ happy.
Chapter Six
~Emily~
“Well good morning to you too, little one.” I kiss Jenna on the cheek, as I plop out my breast to feed her. This breast feeding shit is no joke. My boobs were medium sized before. Now, they’re huge and they leak milk like a cracked pipe. I might have felt like the size of a cow before. But now, I am the cow, creamy milk and all.
I’ve only been a mom for the past forty eight hours and I must say it’s been an amazing two days. I’m sore from the C-section, but it’s not as bad as some people say. I’ve hurt worse with my endo. That now, according to Dr. Golds, is gone for good. Thank the heavens.
Stricken Resolve Page 4
