by Mia Ford
“I can do that,” I said. “Get those fucking clothes off and get your sweet ass over here.”
She was wearing a black lacy bra that barely contained her big tits. She unhooked the bra and let it slide down her arms. Her tits seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Her globes hung large and milky white on her chest, with dark areolas and plump, pink nipples that made me lick my lips.
She kicked off her boots and shimmied out of the tight jeans. Her hips were full. A neatly-trimmed vee of blond curls directed my gaze to her cunt. Her clit hood was long and thick between her thighs. I couldn’t wait to have it between my teeth.
I told my cock that he’d have to wait a few minutes. I wanted to eat her sweet pussy before I fucked it raw.
I shifted so that I was still on my back with my head hanging off the edge of the bed. I reached over my head for her. She stepped closer and spread her thighs. She straddled her pussy over my mouth and moaned when my tongue found her sweet hole. I put my hands between her legs and spread her pussy lips with my thumbs. I probed her cunt with my tongue, licking from the tip of her clit to the indent of her asshole. Her juices washed over my mouth and cheeks. She tasted tangy, salty, with a hint of strawberry. Like a pussy cocktail. I opened my mouth and pressed it to her cunt, probing her salty hole with the tip of my tongue.
She moaned and leaned forward to reach my cock. As I ate her pussy, she braced her left arm on the bed and took my cock into her right hand. She pumped it, slowly at first, almost gently, like she had didn’t want to hurt me. Gradually, her pumping grew faster.
“Suck my cock,” I said, my mouth still on her pussy. “Wrap your sweet lips around my cock.”
She hummed. I felt hot, wet, lips engulf the head. While she pumped the shaft, she took the head between her lips and sucked on it like a lollipop. She swirled her tongue around the head, then opened her mouth and took me deep inside her. I have a big cock, eleven inches, and no woman has ever been able to take it all in her mouth or her cunt, but Sandy was giving it one hell of a try.
She lowered her mouth over my cock until the head made her gag, then she clamped her lips around the shaft and pulled back slowly, milking every inch.
I felt the heat building in my balls as the orgasm threatened to cum.
I didn’t want to shoot my load into her mouth, at least not yet.
I wanted my cock in her pussy.
I wanted my first cum to be inside her.
SANDY
I came out of the bathroom with every intention of shooting Rick Wright in the chest as he lay in my bed jerking on his own cock. My hand was tight on the pistol grip even as my other hand reached for the doorknob. I had played it all out in my mind. It would have made for a very interesting crime scene.
Just open the door, aim, and shoot.
It’s not that hard.
Remember how easy Eddie Wright made it look.
Just point and shoot.
I took a deep breath and opened the door.
My fingers tightened around the pistol grip.
Just point and shoot.
I took two steps toward the bed.
He was still stretched out, naked, hard, waiting.
I felt the fire in my pussy ignite and spread throughout my entire body. I could feel the hot juices flowing from between my legs. My nipples pushed against the thin material of the lacy bra.
I want him dead.
Yes, you do.
I want him inside me.
No, you don’t.
Yes, I do.
No, dammit, you don’t.
I want him inside me, filling my cunt with his seed, making me feel like I’ve never felt before.
I want him.
And I’ll have him.
* * *
Rick was driving me mad. His lips and tongue in my pussy had brought me nearly to the point of orgasm. I felt my body shudder against his lips. I felt his tongue probe deep inside me, releasing a wave of juice and a flurry of jolts that made me shudder.
“God… Rick… I’m going to…cum…”
I held his cock in my hand and squeezed it as I came, flooding his lips and mouth with my hot juices that filled the air with my tangy scent. He dug his fingers into my ass and pulled my pussy down onto his mouth as if he were afraid of missing a single drop. He lapped at my cunt as I struggled to breath. I took the head of his cock between my lips and pumped his shaft. I wanted him to cum, too.
“No,” he moaned. “I don’t want to cum in your hand. I want to fuck your sweet pussy. I want to cum inside you. Get on top of me.”
I smiled and wiped my lips on the back of my hand. I climbed onto the bed and threw my leg over him, straddling his cock. I lowered my pussy lips onto his shaft and slid them back and forth for a moment to lube him up. Rick’s cock was huge. I didn’t know how much of it I could take, but I was eager to find out.
He held his cock steady as I positioned my hole over the head. I lowered myself slowly, feeling the bulbous head force itself inside me. I hadn’t had sex in a long time, so I knew I would be tight. I held my breath and lowered my hips a little more. An inch pushed inside me, then another. I felt my pussy walls literally expanding for his huge cock, then closing around it as it came inside.
I braced my hands on his chest and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly as I slid onto as much of his cock that I could take. I could feel him in my throat. The breath gusted from my lungs and struggled to come back in.
“God… Rick... you’re so… fucking... big…”
“And you’re so fucking tight,” he said, putting his hands on my hips. I began to slowly rock back and forth, milking his cock horizontally. The shaft slid over my clit each time I stroked him, shooting little bolts of lightning through my body.
“Fuck,” he moaned as he brought his hands to my tits, which were swaying gently with the motion of my hips. “God… your tits…”
I opened my eyes and tried to breath.
My mouth hung open.
The breath came in short bursts.
My pussy was gushing over his cock.
I could feel the orgasm cumming.
It made my toes curl.
“So… fucking… tight... faster…”
His fingers dug into the soft tissue of my breasts.
His thumbs rolled over my nipples.
I leaned down to dig my fingers into his chest. I closed my eyes and moaned. “I’m cumming… oh… Rick… fuck me… fuck me…”
He grabbed my hips again and started slamming me into him, thrusting his cock in so deep that it struck the innermost point of my cunt, making me gasp.
“I’m cumming… Sandy…” he moaned. “Cum with me…
And I did. In a great flourish of bundled nerves and curled toes and gritted teeth and gusts of breath, we came together. We jerked and writhed and pressed our gooey selves together until there was nothing left to give.
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as I collapsed onto the bed beside him.
He held up his arm so I could roll into him.
I put my head on his chest and my hand on his flat stomach.
He pulled me close. I heard him sigh.
It didn’t take long for both of us to fall asleep.
The last thought that ran through my drunken mind was: Sandy, what the fuck have you done.
SANDY
Rick was still sleeping peacefully when I opened my eyes and realized what I’d done. What we’d done; me and the man I was determined to kill.
He was on his side, facing me, with the left side of his face pressed to the pillow. His eyes were closed. He was breathing slowly in and out through his mouth.
I lay perfectly still, my breathing matching his, and let my eyes go around his handsome face. I wondered if he was dreaming, and if so, what about. He looked so content, so at peace, so unlike the man I expected to meet, going by what I’d learned from his police dossier.
I expected Rick Wright to be a cold, foulmouthed, heartless brute; capable o
f all manner of crimes and atrocities. I expected him to be callous, uncaring, unemotional, selfish. But in the short time I’d known him, he had been nothing but a perfect gentleman, in and out of bed.
His brother, Eddie, was exactly what I expected him to be. He was mean, angry, threatening, dangerous; and capable of horrible acts. My blood ran cold when he looked at me. I knew that given the chance, he would have dragged me into a room or a back alley and raped me, beat me, and left me for dead. My intentions against Rick Wright might have softened, but my determination to see Eddie Wright dead had not.
I glanced up to find Rick smiling at me. He put a finger to my cheek, then tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
Softly, he said, “Good morning.”
* * *
I set the cup of coffee on the table in front of Rick and sat down across from him. I poured a little milk into my coffee and scooped in two heaping spoons of sugar.
“Would you like a little coffee with your milk and sugar?” Rick asked with a smile that was no less mesmerizing than the night before. He picked up his cup of black coffee and blew a cooling breath into it.
“I like milk and sugar,” I said, stirring the coffee slowly. “Are you sure I can’t fix you some eggs?”
“I think you have done enough,” he said. He took a careful sip and pursed out his lips. “Thanks for letting me spend the night.”
I gave him a sincere smile. “It was my pleasure.” I tapped the spoon to the rim of my cup and set it aside. I watched him for a minute. He had pulled on his jeans to come for coffee, but his muscled torso and feet were bare. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he held the cup between his hands.
“Can I ask you something?” He didn’t wait for permission. “Why did you come into my bar last night?”
“I just came in for a drink,” I said with a shrug. “It is a bar, isn’t it?”
He gave me the smile again. I swear, he used it like a weapon. I felt every nerve in my body tingle.
He took a sip of coffee and bobbed his head. “It is a bar, but it’s not a bar that people like you come to.”
I blinked at him. “People like me? What does that mean?”
He narrowed his eyes and dipped his chin. “You look the part of the bad biker bitch, with your black hair and tats and heavy boots, but as I look around this place,” he nodded around the room with his eyebrows arched, “I see a girl trying to make a drastic change. And I can’t help but wonder why.”
I glanced around the open space that included the apartment’s living room, small breakfast nook, and kitchen. The apartment was spotless, but that wasn’t what he was talking about. He was talking about the photos of my family that hung on the wall and sat about the room. The old me, the happy one, loved family photos. The new me would probably never take another one.
The one thing I had done was to remove photos of Brent because I couldn’t stand to look at them. They were in a box in the bottom of my bedroom closet.
“This one, for example,” he said, getting out of the chair and carefully taking a framed photo off the living room wall. He came back with the photo of me, my sister April, and our parents. The photo was one of those hokey studio shots like you get taken at the Wal-Mart Portrait Center. It had been taken the year I graduated high school, six years ago. I had long blond hair pulled back and clipped on the sides, and was wearing just a hint of makeup. I was wearing a baggy sweater to hide my boobs. He set the photo on the table between us and pointed at it.
“You were very cute in your natural state,” he said, smiling with his eyes. “So, who is the girl sitting across from me now?”
“Are you saying that I’m not cute now?” I asked. I was just wearing a t-shirt and a pair of panties. I pulled up the front of the shirt and flashed my tits in an attempt to distract him. “Are you saying that these aren’t cute?”
“Oh, those are beyond cute,” he said, eyebrows twitching. “I’m just curious, is all. What made the cute blond in this photo transform into the woman sitting across from me now?”
I thought about the question and how best to answer it so he wouldn’t suspect that I was doing anything other than slumming when I came into his bar. I decided to give him a bit of truth and a bit of bullshit.
“I lost someone very close to me,” I said quietly. I held the coffee cup between my hands and stared into it to avoid his eyes. “He was killed. We were going to be married. I decided I needed a change.”
His features softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. When did he die?”
“A while ago.”
“How did he die?”
I hesitated for just a second. “Cancer.”
“I thought you said he was killed.”
I blinked at him. “Cancer killed him.”
“Ah. How old was he?”
“Twenty-eight.”
He gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Sandy. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories. I’m just always curious why people do the things they do.”
“That’s okay,” I said, brushing a knuckle beneath my eyes. “So why do you do the things you do?”
His forehead wrinkled at the question. “What do you mean?”
I gave him a knowing look. “I’ve heard of The Wright Brothers. Everybody has. You guys are like a modern-day James Gang. What makes you do the things you do?”
He stared deeply into my eyes as if he were trying to read my mind. “Things like what?”
I raised my eyebrows and let my shoulders go up and down. “Oh, let’s see, suspected of robbing banks and armored cars, hijacking truckloads of cigarettes and alcohol, jaywalking, loitering, pulling the wings off butterflies. That sort of thing.”
He sat back and folded his arms over his chest. “Let me guess, you Googled me while I was asleep.”
“Something like that,” I said. I brought the cup to my lips and held it there for a moment. “I like to know who I’m sleeping with.”
“Well, don’t believe everything you read online,” he said seriously. “I’ve never pulled the wings off a single butterfly.”
“What about all that other stuff?” I asked the question playfully, but he could tell that I was serious.
He gave me a serious look. “What about it?”
“Is it true? Are you a criminal?” I could feel the color draining from my face as he stared at me. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or amused.
“Would you have a problem being with me if I was a criminal?” he asked.
I thought about the question for a moment but didn’t answer it because I knew I would be ashamed of the words that left my lips.
I stood up and held out my hand.
He wrapped his fingers around mine.
I pulled him out of the chair and led him into the bedroom.
I’d answer the question there.
RICK
I had never been with a woman like Sandy. It wasn’t just that she was smoking hot and had the attitude to match, or that she would do anything and everything in the bedroom.
No, I’m talking about the way she made me feel. I had never been in love. Hell, I didn’t even know what love felt like. I didn’t think I was in love with Sandy, at least not yet, but when I was around her my heart beat a little faster. The air in my lungs felt a little lighter.
When I was with her, I wanted to be a better man.
Maybe that was it.
She made me want to be a better man.
She had been tending bar at the club for a few nights now. Carl was glad to have the help. He was nearing seventy. I had been trying to get him to retire for years, but he said if he retired he would die of boredom. Still, he was not averse to sitting in the room playing cards with the crew while Sandy did his job.
The plans to hit Crown Jewelers were all set. We would hit the place in two days, on Friday afternoon, while old man Crown was getting the shipment of diamonds ready for the armored car, which typically came at five. I had spent less and less time with Dottie, which she complain
ed about when I pretended to call her from the road. I assured her that I would pick her up on Thursday evening for our weekend getaway.
I had absolutely no interest in ever fucking Dottie again now that I had Sandy. In fact, I had decided against driving the three hours to Vegas, just to slip her a rufie and drive home. I would take her as far as Barstow to a roadside motel and knock her out there. My contact would keep her sleeping peacefully until I gave them the all clear.
If everything went according to plan, we’d hit Crown Jewelers on Friday, I’d sell the diamonds to my fence on Saturday, and I would drop off the face of the earth by Sunday, and Dottie would come home heartbroken, but none the worse for wear on Monday.
I had a “go bag” all packed with a fake passport and ID, a hundred grand in cash, three burner phones, and a few changes of clothes.
My cut from the sale of the diamonds would be deposited in an offshore bank account I had set up weeks before. The rest of the crew wanted their cut in cash, which I knew would eventually get them caught. Even Eddie, who was a sloppy crook and a big spender. He’d spread money around like butter and people would notice. That would be his problem then. By that time, I’d be long gone.
All I had to decide was where I wanted to go.
And whether I wanted to take Sandy with me.
* * *
I came out of the back room and slid onto a bar stool. Sandy was tending bar for the third night in a row and seemed to be enjoying it. The regulars loved her. They especially liked looking at her big tits and the cleavage that spilled out over the top of her bra. I loved it, too. I buried my nose and mouth and cock into it every chance I got.
The only person that didn’t like Sandy was Eddie, who said there was something about her that set off red flags in his head, whatever the fuck that meant. He asked about her background, where she had come from all of a sudden, and what made me think she wasn’t a cop.
“I can smell a cop from a mile away,” I told him. “Trust me, I’ve been over every inch of her body and her apartment. If she was a cop, I’d know it.
“You can’t smell with your dick,” he said, giving me a hard look to let me know he was serious. He gritted his teeth at me. “You let this girl get under your skin fast as fuck, brother. I’m not convinced she is who she says she is. There’s something familiar about her. And when I figure it out…”
