“Shhh,” I hushed as little mewls of pleasure-pain escaped her lips. “Relax baby, it’ll get good.”
And pretty soon those little mewls became cries of pleasure, ecstatic yips and breathy gasps as I pounded her behind.
“Ohhh fuck me,” she gasped at one point, her face strained, those beautiful brunette curls thrown over one shoulder, body humping up and down. “Butt-fuck me, butt-fuck me,” she chanted.
And I was only too happy to oblige. The pace picked up, my balls bouncing against her puss as I drilled again and again, that cunny juice like molten lava, soaking the fronts of my thighs with nectar.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” I ground out, the unbelievable squeeze so good, the tight fit like a vise. “Fuuuuuck!” I roared as I came, spurting gallons of man milk into her anal chamber, up her rectum and into her GI tract. And at the very same moment, I reached below and seized a nipple in each hand, pulling and twisting hard, filling my palms with those huge, creamy gazongas, stimulating her up top as well as down below as the brunette careened over the edge, coming like a house on fire, her cunny shaking with spasms, ass clamping down on my dick so hard, with such force, I thought it would break.
“Kristiiiaaan!” her voice rang out in the forest as cars zoomed past, not so far away, anyone could have stopped and seen us at any minute. “Kristian,” she cried again as her rump jiggled and shook with the tremors overtaking her form, almost shaking me loose with the volcanic eruption.
But I was in too deep, grabbing onto her tits, using them as leverage, burying myself deeper in her still, enjoying the feel of snug womanflesh surrounding me, enveloping me, letting myself breathe in her scent, the unmistakable tang of her pussy cream mixed with the musk of female back end.
And finally, we both calmed enough to rejoin the world once again, our breathing ragged, locked together, my huge, masculine form bent over her round, feminine body as she knelt on all fours in the grass. I nipped at her shoulder, tasting the sweet perspiration there, running the edge of my tongue along the elegant curve of her neck, savoring the utter femaleness of this girl.
And Tina sighed a little before stretching a bit and moaning, giving me better access to the sensitive curve of her neck.
“Again, Highness?” she asked coyly, wiggling her butt a little.
And I groaned, my cock twitching as it came back to life in that sweet, hot space because I was more than game … for round two, if not three and four.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tina
I never imagined it would be like this. Prince Kristian was so dirty, so utterly disgusting, his mind in the gutter, taking my behind like he owned it. And I have to admit that I loved it, loved every second of our illicit encounter by the highway, where anyone could have seen us had they slowed and peered into the shrubbery.
Because it had been amazing, beyond my wildest dreams. I’d blown him, taken that huge donkey dong deep into my throat before getting on my hands and knees and offering him my behind like a whore, a harlot who was open any time for business. And if it was Kristian’s business then my pussy and ass were his for the taking, available always.
But what intrigues me is the fact that he’s such a man of contrasts, the personal, the physical, the mental. On the one hand, he’s a prince, with everything it implies. Savvy, cosmopolitan, powerful, with knowledge of politics, the economy, and foreign affairs, it’d been easy for him to pick up on my little sector of microfinance. He’d immediately understood the value of Roma Outreach, how even a loan of five thousand lirah could make a difference to a community outfit.
On the other, Kristian’s a normal man, just like any other. The high-flying title, the fact that his family has millions, seemed mean little when it came to our relationship. Because I’ve told him the truth – that the Sterlings don’t have much, that we’re paupers in paradise, our lifestyle about to crack and implode.
“I don’t know what to say about my mom and dad,” I began slowly. “I mean I love them, but Lord and Lady Sterling can be hard to explain.”
“No worries, I get it,” he said, driving slowly. We’d loaded ourselves into the Mini and were heading back to Miss Carroll’s, our bodies sated, our breathing finally still. A sense of calm had descended in the car, an easy silence between us. Would the other girls be able to tell that I’d just had a fling? Not just a fling but the most intensely physical and emotional experience of my life, a dick in my butt, jism all over my body?
But I had to tell him the truth.
“Lord and Lady Sterling,” I tried again, “we’re, how do you say it? Aristocrats but not really.”
He glanced at me briefly before turning back to the wheel, resting a big hand on my knee.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of your family,” he rumbled, “back in school, they made me study the royal houses of every European country. You guys are a cadet branch of the Stewarts right? Your fortune’s derived from real estate and horse racing.”
And he took my breath away again, the breadth of his knowledge, how it even extended to my family, minor nobility of a neighboring city-state.
“Yeah, the basis of our fortune was land, but I don’t think we have many holdings now,” I said slowly. “In fact, I’d be surprised if we had even one.”
“What do you mean?” asked Kristian smoothly. “Wasn’t your grandfather’s name on the Royalton Race Track at some point?” he asked quizzically. “We had a filly win there a couple years back, I thought that place belonged to your family.”
I took a deep breath.
“It might be, in name,” I said slowly, “because things sell better if the Sterling name is attached, development seems to go easier, sellers often get a premium, it’s easier to attract crowds. But the fact is that a lot of our real estate is mortgaged to the hilt, a lot of the properties are underwater.”
And I colored as I admitted this, shamefaced, unable to look at the prince. I knew I shouldn’t have felt bad, our family’s fortune had been declining for years and I was an eighteen year-old girl, hardly the one responsible. But I felt ashamed nonetheless, feeling the burden of our family crest, expectations which were about to be shattered forever.
“What are you saying?” he asked easily, looking over at me again and chucking me under the chin. “That the Royalton Race Track is owned by someone else?”
And I nodded slowly.
“It is,” I said. “It’s owned by some nameless conglomerate, some foreign entity that bought it from right under my dad’s nose. Well, not exactly,” I amended. “I just think that my dad didn’t have much choice. It wasn’t a hostile takeover or anything like that, he just didn’t have much say about what happened, we were so in debt.”
“And I only found out about all this myself,” I said quickly, rushing with my words. “I didn’t know, I …” I stopped miserably, unable to look at him.
“You what?” he said softly, shooting me another look as he drove. “What is it, Tina?”
“I was sent to Miss Carroll’s to find a rich man,” I said woodenly, twisting my hands in my lap, my knuckles white with agony. “I never meant for this to happen, I mean, I never meant for you and I, you know ...” I was so mortified that it was impossible to finish my sentences, I couldn’t even get the words out, how cheap I felt, how opportunistic, just a pawn in my family’s plan.
“And I was the ultimate catch?” Kristian asked wryly. “I was the guy that parents set their daughters on, hoping to snag a man with a fortune, ensnare him so that they could use his money to rebuild their castles, send their younger sons to college, even buy a couple nice dresses and purses for the missus?”
And shamefaced, I replied in a tiny voice, “Yes. My parents, they sent me to Miss Carroll’s for that purpose specifically. I wanted to go to school,” I burst out, “I wanted to study history or literature, figure out my path in life, but my parents,” I said mortified, shaking my head, my voice trembling, “they told me that our family’s future rested on my making a good match. Where would my brother end up
if we didn’t have money? Where would I, for that matter?” I asked bitterly. “Lord and Lady Sterling have already received notice, they’re going to have to vacate their apartment in a few months for non-payment of rent,” I concluded miserably.
And Kristian laughed then, a big, belly laugh, his tall form shaking so hard that I was afraid he’d crash the car.
“What?” I asked, stupefied. “What, what’s so funny?” I’d just admitted my big secret to him and half-expected him to throw me out, drop me like a hot coal, but instead the man was laughing so hard that I seriously thought he’d lost a nut, his blue eyes dancing mirthfully as he took me in.
After he calmed down somewhat, he looked over at me again, those big hands still on the driving wheel, taking us through the outskirts of the city, back to St. Venetia.
“Tina,” he said gently, “I already knew all that.”
“You did?” I asked, stupefied. “Why? How?” What did he know that I didn’t? I was sure my parents took every precaution to hide our diminishing fortunes, refusing to give up country club memberships, keeping all the right friends, spending lavishly on vacations. From the outside, no one should have been able to tell.
“Because girls who go to finishing school are often on the outs,” he said gently. “There are a dozen finishing schools, all filled with pretty young things hoping to make a good match. You think you’re the only one from a destitute family, who’s trying to pimp out their little girl to save the family fortune?” He snorted. “At any given time, there’s a fifty percent chance that the lady in question is a pauper, dolled up to look like a million bucks.”
And I thought for a moment.
“I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “I’m at Miss Carroll’s and none of the other girls are poor, they’ve got clothes, shoes and jewelry up to their eyeballs. Plus a bunch of my high school friends attend finishing schools in Switzerland, Luxembourg and the South of France, I know their families are rolling in it.”
But the prince just shook his head.
“Trust me baby, their families are just better at hiding it,” he said gently. “In fact, some families blow their last pennies putting their daughters in these schools, as an “investment” to revive their fortune. They buy their girls everything, the fanciest designer duds, the swankiest outfits, all in a last-ditch effort to attract someone loaded,” he shrugged. “Believe me honey, I’ve seen it up close.”
And here, I gasped, sitting back, staring at him suddenly.
“You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?” I asked slowly, realization dawning. “The made-to-order bride stuff, this isn’t your first rodeo, is it?”
And he just grinned at me cheekily, showing those pearly whites.
“That’s right,” he confirmed, this time with a positive smirk on that handsome face. “Besides, I’ve been a prime target since I was a kid. Ladies were lining up before I could talk, in the cradle still. That’s right, hopeful parents were throwing their baby daughters at my parents, sending gifts, dropping hints, in the hopes that a lucrative match could be worked out pronto.”
And suddenly I felt dumb, really dumb. Of course Kristian knew. He was hot property on the Continent, one of the most eligible bachelors in Europe. Of course he knew how the system worked, girls from fading families had been hurled his way for years now, I just happened to be the latest in a string of impoverished Cinderellas.
“So what’s stopped you?” I asked slowly. “You’ve been in the bull’s eye your whole life, why haven’t you picked one of these girls? Or is it,” and suddenly I stopped, dread overcoming me, “you’re looking to marry rich too?”
And Kristian laughed even harder at that, practically bellowing now, I was sure people could hear us through the closed windows of the car.
“Naw baby, my family’s good,” he threw out, smiling so hard I thought his cheeks might crack. “I’m good, no need to trot out the dollars for me.”
And I slumped in my seat, mortified. Had I just implied that the St. Venetians were a crumbling royal house, that they needed dollars under the table? But Kristian continued.
“In fact, my family’s pretty good at protecting our fortune,” he drawled. “They had you checked out before we set out this morning.”
I gasped, turning to him.
“They had me what?” I sputtered.
“Checked out,” he said helpfully again. “It’s standard protocol for us, it’s not that weird if you think about it. Their Crown Prince is headed to a ghetto with a woman he’s never met before, of course they worked up a dossier on you, investigated you.”
My face flamed.
“A dossier?” I repeated dumbly. “You must be kidding. You’ve seen it? What’s in it?”
“Nope, I haven’t seen it,” he said cheerfully, “but I know it exists. It’s probably pretty thin, I only met you yesterday, unless,” and here he paused dramatically, “there’s more about you than meets the eye.”
And I was silent.
“No, I think I’ve told you everything now,” I mumbled. “In fact, I think you knew everything before I even uttered a peep.”
“Probably,” he said cheerfully, turning back to the road, “and ah ha, here we are now.”
I was so astonished at the turn of events that I hadn’t registered where we were going. I’d assumed he was going to drop me off at Miss Carroll’s, it was early evening now and we’d been out all day, but instead we’d pulled up at a dive on the outskirts of town, a ramshackle building with the windows blacked out, a cement block with no distinguishing features except the thump of music ringing out from behind closed doors.
I sighed. I was tired and the multiple revelations had me reeling.
“Where are we?” I asked, resting my head against the car seat. “Where is this place?”
“Nowhere,” Kristian cheerfully, “I just thought we’d stop for a drink before I dropped you off,” he said, jumping out of the car. “Come on,” he said, striding out and pulling open my door. “It’ll be fun.”
And I got out slowly. I was dusty from our trip, my skirt crinkled from the romp by the side of the road, my hair messy. I ran my fingers through my brown curls self-consciously, trying to tidy the unruly mass, make myself a little more presentable. But Kristian couldn’t be deterred. He bent over and kissed me on the lips, breathing into my mouth.
“You look beautiful,” he said, gazing into my eyes before taking my hand again. “Come on, you’ll like it here,” he said, pulling me towards the dingy building, a picture of a donkey on the door.
And a blush ran over my cheeks, my heart jumping. I had no idea where we were, I’d just had roadside sex with a man I’d only known for hours, so why not? In this incredible roller-coaster that was my life, it was just the next adventure.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Karl
We haven’t been ourselves recently, my brother and I. Our work didn’t suffer, we were just as sharp as ever, but being on the fucking boat was driving us crazy, our bodies buzzing, constantly alert.
And it was because of the girl, the brunette we’d met that night in Andorra. Tina. Even her name ran in my mind ceaselessly, Tina Tina Tina, like the chime of bells, a melodic peal that wouldn’t stop.
It should have driven me crazy but instead it just made me hungry, wanting more. Because I kept re-living our night together, taking the curvy brunette behind the Old Dog, ravishing her like she was the last woman on earth when in fact she should have just been one among many.
Because it’s not like Kato and I are celibate. Usually we’re tearing it up on shore leave, chasing strange, getting it on with multiple women, working off the pent-up energy that comes with long weeks aboard a ship chock full of men. But things were different at our last stop, the energy gone, the pulsing male urge to hunt, drive, take, dissipated like a deflated balloon. We’d stopped by our usual haunt, the Grizzly, seating ourselves at the bar, ordering the usual.
“Boys good to see you again,” growled Harvey. Harvey was
a vet, a former merchant mariner familiar with the vagaries of the itinerant life. He knew what men like us wanted, what we needed, to keep up with the hard life. So he plunked two beers in front of us, sloshing the foam, and nodded towards the back.
“There’s a new one,” he rumbled under his breath, gripping the bar. His massive forearms were covered with faded tats, running up and down like ladders, a faint greyish-green color. “Name’s Candy, hear she likes two.”
And I nodded my thanks for his advance work. Because everyone knows our proclivities. My twin and I, we like doing girls together, letting them take the double pound, experimenting with creaming females two ways at once. Oh yeah, we always do the double team and girls never, and I mean never, say no. There’s often a shocked look at first, a breathy gasp of “Nooooo!” but then a soft, melty look comes into their eyes as they take in our massive forms, the ripped builds, the huge tents at our crotches.
And it works for us like a charm. A girl’s cunny feels tighter if there’s cock in her mouth, the distraction critical as her I go at her from below, and god, when we bring on the ass play? It’s always good to have something to chew on as donkey dong is run up that back hole, give her something to focus on as she’s violated in that dry, sweet spot.
So Harvey had done us a favor, scoping out the new girl for us. This chick Candy was into double, huh? All the better, Kato and I hadn’t been laid in a while… since Tina in fact.
So we swiveled on our bar stools, checking out the new girl. Hmm, not bad, a little thin but still okay, her boobs probably Cs, her hips a little narrow but maybe she could stretch. And what do you know, but the girl was looking back at us already, batting her lashes and jiggling her butt, squirming under our hot gazes.
Without even saying anything, she stood as if mesmerized and made her way over to us.
“Hey,” she breathed, looking us over. I knew what she saw. Two hard, hungry men, black hair, handsome as sin, looking like we could dominate her small form, swallow her and eat her alive … twice.
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