Stacy Vs. SEAL

by Mona Cox

  “This was so--” I start to say, but the moment I feel his lips on my lower back, I fall silent again. He lays gentle kisses over the curve of my ass cheeks, and then starts moving in toward my crack. Without a moment’s hesitation, he takes his mouth right between my thighs and presses it against my pussy.

  Using his tongue, he starts scooping up the cum that's dripping down from my inside of pussy and, once he has licked my folds dry, he starts moving up. I shudder as I feel his tongue going over my crack, fishing out every strand of cum, and then he finally crushes his mouth against my ass. His tongue jabs inside of me with fast strokes, and I start moaning again, barely capable of understanding what’s really happening. Christ, this is amazing!

  “Fuck,” he breathes out, finally pulling back from me and laying down on top of the mattress, his eyes closed shut as he tries to catch his breath. I lay next to him, breathing as hard as he is.

  “This was… something else,” I whisper, not sure of what to say. He turns to me, a lustful flicker in his eyes, and then just smiles.

  “You drive me crazy, Lisa,” he says, and I just smile back at him. Somehow, there’s nothing I can say to him that will make this moment any more perfect. With that silly smile of happiness on my lips, I drift off and let a sweet darkness overtake me.

  He might not be a real outlaw, but he sure is a bad boy when it comes to sex.

  69

  Lisa

  I wake slowly, stretching as I do so. God, that felt good! Everything felt good. Diesel’s dick was amazeballs. All I need out of life is a deep dicking. Every day.

  Oh yeah, I could get used to that idea.

  Hold on...

  I breathe in deep.

  Wow, he's making breakfast! Or someone's making breakfast.

  I slide out of bed, but instead of putting on my clothes, I decide to wear Diesel’s shirt instead. Yeah, it’s cheesy as hell to wear a guy’s button-up shirt down to breakfast, but c’mon—everyone does it for a reason. There’s really no better way to show off your legs, and there’s something about wearing a guy’s shirt that just makes them horny as fuck.

  Not that Diesel needed help in that department, but who am I kidding? Like I’d complain if he were to fuck me again this morning. Satisfying myself on his dick? There's no such thing. I’m gonna be 92 and still wanting him to fuck me hard and unprotected.

  I stop in my tracks, halfway down the stairs to the kitchen. When I am 92? Why am I thinking about being with Diesel that far into the future? This is just a fling, and nothing more. I want a real man, and Diesel, no matter what he claims, just isn’t it. He’s something fun to play with until a real outlaw comes along.

  Reassured, I continue my descent, spotting Diesel in the kitchen with a damn kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder. I don’t know if I should groan or laugh. I slip up behind him and put my arms around him.

  “Good morning,” I say, laying my head against his back. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Fucking amazing,” he says with a growl, turning around in my arms and pulling me up to his lips for a mind-blowing kiss. “I think you’re my sleep talisman; I sleep better in your arms than I do at home.”

  “I think I just wear you out,” I say with a naughty smile, and go back for another one of his mind-blowing kisses. We pull apart, finally, when I can smell something...

  Burning?

  “Fuck!” Diesel says, pulling the pan off the gas burner and flicking off the flame. We stare down at the pan of burnt scrambled eggs in silence.

  “So, is this how they taught you to cook in MC school?” I ask, because really, I can’t help myself. If Diesel wants someone who'll fawn over his every word and action, he’s picked entirely the wrong girl to fuck.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” Diesel says with a self-deprecating grin. “Although I don’t remember the president’s eggs looking quite this…dark.”

  He scrapes them off into the trashcan and after a nice, long stare into my entirely-too-bare fridge (I like to eat out, what can I say?) we settle on bagels and cream cheese.

  “Who's the president of your boys’ club?” I ask, digging into the bagel with relish.

  “I used to be president of the Black Fist MC,” he says, ignoring my dig. “I stepped down about a year or so ago so I could focus on the family business.”

  “Speaking of, don’t you have to go to work sometime soon?” I ask with a glance at the clock. I should probably be going myself, although I’ll be the first to admit that I use Daughter of the Law Firm to my advantage quite often, and thus if I’m an hour or three late to work, no one says a word.

  Lisa Spoiled Rotten Macomber is my name; don’t wear it out.

  “I’ll get my shit done, don’t you worry,” he says, dropping a kiss on the crown of my head as he passes by to put his plate in the sink. “I have some things I have to take care of tonight, but I’ll be back in town tomorrow.” He comes back, pulling me off my barstool.

  “Wha—”

  “I need my shirt back,” he murmurs, unbuttoning it slowly, kissing me as he moves down my stomach. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No-oo-ooh,” I stutter, throwing my head back and closing my eyes in ecstasy. God, his tongue felt amazing. He reached my pussy, darting his tongue between my lips and I groan and—

  He steps back, a big smile on his face. “Glad to hear it,” he says cheerfully, walking up the stairs to get the rest of his shit from my bedroom.

  I throw the kitchen towel at him but even I’ll admit that it hit with a very unsatisfying pfft.

  He laughs all the way up the stairs.

  70

  Diesel

  I shift in my seat, surprised by how anxious I am to see Lisa again. I’ve never had a woman get under my skin like this before, and I’m not entirely sure that I like it. I mean, I like the fucking—there’s never a question about that—but it’s this…emotional attachment to her that’s getting to me. If the guys could see me now, as excited as a schoolboy over seeing a girl, they’d laugh their asses off at me.

  And I’d deserve it. But...

  I shift uncomfortably again. I can’t seem to help myself. And that’s what really gets to me.

  Where are you?

  She texts back quickly.

  Just getting out of the Plaza.

  Even better—that’s close by. I tell Antoine to head to the corner of 5th Avenue and 59th Street, and then go back to texting Lisa.

  I’ll pick you up near the Grand Army Plaza and then we can go somewhere.

  Like, my bed.

  Like your MC clubhouse?

  God, she’s a brat.

  If you really like sucking a lot of cock, then su—

  I glance up idly, movement catching my eye, and I see Lisa. She's being mugged. Some jackass is ripping her purse right off her shoulder.

  “Stop!” I yell at the driver and throw myself out of the Rolls, not waiting for it to come to a stop, and I’m running in front of an oncoming truck and I fucking don’t care, I’m diving toward the guy’s kneecaps and taking him down, hitting the sidewalk with a sickeningly satisfying crunch.

  “Oh man! What’d you do that for—”

  You know what else has a sickeningly satisfying crunch? Noses.

  And balls.

  Just in case jackholes like this think they should be procreating, I took care of that urge, for a little while anyway.

  I roll off the moaning man who grabbing his nose and his dick at the same time, and pick up Lisa’s purse.

  “Oh my god, thank you,” she says, slinging her purse over her shoulder before checking me over for cuts and scrapes. I spot the thief trying to crawl away and I kick him, landing a blow to his kneecap that sends him howling and collapsing in pain.

  But as focused as Lisa is on my injuries, I’m looking her over too.

  “Are you okay?” I ask quietly, stroking the hair out of her face. I can see the shock has begun to set in and her eyes are glazing over now. “Some people just don’t know how to stay down
,” I add in an equally quiet, loving voice, as I kick out at the jackass who’d dared to try to crawl away again. I didn’t break eye contact with Lisa the whole time, even as the thief is collapsing with pain onto the ground.

  “I just want to go somewhere safe,” she says, teeth chattering. I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back into the hotel.

  “Mary,” I say, with a quick glance at her nametag and back up to her face, “my driver Antoine will be along in a moment to pay for the room, but he has to find a parking spot first. This woman is going into shock, and I need to take her into a suite. Do you have one open right now?”

  With a wide-eyed look at the trembling Lisa in my arms, Mary quickly begins typing and then swiping an electronic key. “Here you are, sir,” she says with a warm smile. “Room 319. Take good care of her.”

  Riding up the elevator, Lisa is snuggling against me like a little child and god, I thought I’d wanted to be near her before. I thought I’d been a little obsessed about seeing her twenty minutes earlier. But that didn’t compare at all to the obsession I feel for her now. I snuggle her close to my chest, her perfume wafting up to my nose. I suddenly felt the strongest urge to go back and kill the purse snatcher with my bare hands, but that’d include a lot of paperwork and I just didn’t have time for another lecture from my lawyer about staying out of trouble.

  Plus, and more importantly, I’d have to put down Lisa to do it. The very idea is just unthinkable.

  I slide the keycard into the door, and, carrying her inside, push the door closed behind me with my foot. I carry her to the bed and gently lay her down on it and begin stripping her clothes off of her. A thin, drapey kind of shirt that god, is fucking sexy, comes off, and then her strapless red bra. Her short skirt and thong underwear are next, after I’d shucked off her stilettos.

  She is shivering in earnest now, so I scoop her up and carry her into the understated bathroom, creams and light greens giving it a soothing feeling. I start the hot water in the jetted tub and, forcing myself to ignore her delicious curves, gently slip her into the tub. She’s just sitting there, and that scares me more than anything else. She’s normally funny and sarcastic and cutting and…even the train didn’t seem to throw her off like this did.

  I search through the bottles on the counter, finally finding the bubble bath bottle, and pour it into the water. Lavender wafts up to my nose and I smile. Perfect. As she lies back in the tub, I go in search of the mini bar. A swallow or two of whiskey can only help at this point. I pour two fingers into each tumbler and carry them back to the bathroom, handing her one.

  “Drink,” I say, brooking no arguments. She obediently drinks, which…well, Lisa never obediently does anything. I toss my own back, starting to feel the road rash on my hands and knees, now that the adrenaline is gone. I glance down at my Armani slacks and see that I’ve torn the knee open. Dammit. Not even my tailor will be able to fix these. I turn off the water and then pull my cell phone out of my pocket.

  Bring a change of clothes for myself and Lisa. Have them delivered to room 319.

  Sure, Antoine hadn’t been given measurements, but he’d seen Lisa. He’d be able to do it. I don't pay him stupid amounts of money in salary each year because he's a dumbass who needs everything spelled out for him.

  Lisa stirs in the water. I slide my phone back into my pocket and brush her hair out of her face, searching her eyes for signs of life. I smile in relief when I see it.

  “Hey, there you are,” I say softly. “Glad to have you back in the land of the living.”

  She smiles humorlessly up at me. “Yeah, glad to be back. Sorry. I’m not sure what happened there. All these years of living in New York City, and I’d never been mugged by someone. Isn’t that crazy? I think…between this mugging and the train almost killing me, my brain just didn’t know what to do. Too much bad shit for one week, that’s for damn sure.”

  I take her empty tumbler from her and refill it.

  “Here. Drink,” I say, handing it back to her. She takes it with a wrinkled nose.

  “I don’t like whiskey,” she confesses, staring at the amber liquid in her glass.

  “I don’t care,” I counter. She glares up at me, trying to be stern, but the laughter creeps in around the edges. I push the glass toward her mouth unrelentingly and with a sigh, she swigs it back.

  “Oh…”

  Cough, cough.

  “My god!”

  Cough, cough.

  “Next time, just let him take my purse!” she says, relaxing back into the bubbles.

  “Your Coach purse?” I ask her, eyebrow cocked.

  “Okay, probably not. Next time, if it comes down to saving me or the purse, throw it out of harm’s way first, and then toss my sorry ass after it.”

  “Can do.” I stroke her gorgeous blonde hair away from her face again and she grins up at me, finally relaxed. Her eyes, which had been haunted and withdrawn, are back to normal. Okay, maybe a little more drunk than normal.

  But that’s a good thing, my cock says.

  I ignore it and stand up to clean myself up. Washing up at the bathroom sink, I get the embedded gravel out of my palms and then my knees.

  “Oh my god, I didn’t realize you’d been hurt!” she says, staring in horror at my torn slacks.

  “Just a couple of scrapes,” I say. “Jumping out of a moving vehicle tends to do that to you.”

  “That’s two pairs of pants that I owe you,” she mumbles, leaning back against the jetted tub, boneless as a baby.

  “I think I can handle the bill.”

  I take a handful of aspirin, shuck my clothes, and then begin to work on bathing Lisa. Starting with her toes, I run soapy hands up her corded calves and over her gorgeous knees.

  Diesel, you know you have it bad when you think someone’s knees are cute.

  I ignore that voice and work my way up to her pussy, running my hands around the outer lips, teasing her, and then up her stomach.

  “Ooohhh…” she groans in disappointment, her eyes still closed, as I leave her pussy behind. I grin to myself. Teasing Lisa is just about the most fun one can have legally.

  I slide up to her full tits, running my thumbs across the pink tips, watching them pucker under my touch.

  “Ooohhh, yes,” she groans happily.

  I slide back down to her pussy, this time slipping my fingers inside of her and across her clit.

  “Oh yes!” she says, her back arching as I begin rubbing her.

  71

  Lisa

  Ever since I met Diesel, my life became a crazy succession of events. It was all fun and games, but now… Something has changed, and I’m not really sure what. Maybe it’s the adrenaline talking but, somehow, I know that isn’t it.

  There I was, walking down the sidewalk, texting him and thinking back to how good everything is whenever I’m around him, and then bam! I’m getting robbed. And, just like a scene out of a comic book, Diesel jumps out from a moving car and crashes his fist against the man’s face, saving me just in time.

  I barely remember what happened after that; all I know is that Diesel picked me up, and how his strong arms felt around me. In that moment I felt … something. I felt protected, I felt comfortable and I felt… loved? No, it can’t be.

  But now, my naked body covered by warm water and Diesel’s hand sliding over my skin, I can’t shake off that feeling. It feels right with him; it feels perfect, as if all the stars in the firmament have finally aligned. Somehow, what started just as lust has evolved into something far more powerful.

  “Feels good?” he asks, sliding his finger deep inside my pussy and pressing it against my G-spot. I look into his eyes, smiling shyly, and just nod. It feels good, indeed, more than he will ever know.

  Pressing harder on that sweet spot, he rests his thumb over my clit and starts massaging it, shards of pleasure making their way toward my brain. A small timid moan falls from my lips and I throw my head back, resting it against the edge of the tub as I surrender to D
iesel’s fingers. He keeps on working me until my moans grow fiercer, and eventually they just turn into a long drawn out scream of ecstasy.

  My pussy tightens up around his fingers, my muscles twitching slightly as I come.

  “It feels so good,” I moan, opening my eyes and looking back at him. The flames of ecstasy are lapping at my muscles, and I feel like a burning piece of coal, combusting into ash.

  “I know,” he responds, taking his fingers out from my pussy and stepping inside the tub. My eyes roam over his naked body as he sits behind me, lacing my waist with his arms and pulling me close to him. He runs his fingers through my hair, slowly massaging my scalp, and lays one gentle kiss on my neck. “You’re safe now,” he whispers, and I believe him. “I'll never let anything happen to you.”

  “Is that what you say to every girl you rescue from evil?” I tease him, feeling his hard shaft pressing against my lower back.

  “Yeah…” he says, his lips brushing against the contour of my right ear. “But with you, I really mean it.”

  With a smile, I throw my hand back and, placing it on his knee, I slide it toward his crotch. In an instant my heart starts to race fast, pumping blood and desire to my aching pussy. I become wetter and desperate for more as Diesel takes his hands to my breasts and squeezes them softly, making me moan again. He pinches both my nipples at the same time, pressing on them tightly, and my head starts to spin.

  I feel his cock brushing against my knuckles, so I just turn my hand around and go for it. I run my index finger over his cock, tracing its contour with my fingertip and pushing him toward the edge of insanity. He pinches my nipples more harshly, his cock pulsing against me. Unable to resist him, I curl my fingers around his shaft, making it pulse harshly, and then start flicking my wrist.

  I lean back against him, my eyelids drooping as I stroke him softly. Then, leaning into me, he lays his lips against my neck. I turn around, going on my knees, and just go for his mouth: the moment our lips touch, it’s like an explosion has just happened inside my mind, and the desire I’m feeling right now becomes the center of the universe.