by Alexis Angel
My arms grow weak and I go down to my elbows, my head going down between my shoulders as I breathe out with a groan. I’m on the verge of simply collapsing, but I still resist, fighting hard to survive the incoming wave of pleasure. I can already feel it looming on the horizon of my mind, its presence like an imposing omen of chaos and ecstasy. Each thrust of his is like a step toward the storm, and it doesn’t take long for a chaos of the senses to start raining down on me.
As I feel myself close to the edge, he starts to go so hard his thighs smack my ass harshly enough to leave a mark. His cock pulses inside of me and, knowing he’s as close to the edge as I am, I can’t hold back. I scream like a banshee, my fingers curling so hard against the sheets my knuckles turn white. He comes at the same time, his cock spasming inside of me and kicking against my inner walls.
In a heartbeat, I feel his cum filling me, each spasm of his cock a new wave of warm fluids. Gripping my hips tightly, he holds me in place as he shoots his endless load inside of me, strands of it already dripping down my thighs and falling on top of the sheets, staining them.
Not even knowing what I’m doing, I fight against his hold and move forward, his cock sliding out of me in an instant. It keeps gushing out in a stream, his warm juices flying straight into my naked skin. Ropes of cum hit me across the back and, as I turn, straight into my chest. I move closer to him, immediately grabbing his cock and stroking him as he spurts out his load. With my mouth open wide, I aim his stream at my face, letting his semen cover me as if I were a wax figure. He keeps cumming for what seems like an eternity, thick ropes of sticky cum flying straight into my face and dripping down to my neck and breasts, completely blanketing me.
When it finally ends, I close my mouth and swallow his salty juices, letting them caress my throat on the way down. He simply looks at me, breathing hard as I take two fingers to my breasts and scoop all the cum that I can, taking it into my mouth. I slide the fingers inside my mouth and suck them dry, a hint of a grin on my lips as I return his gaze.
“Every day, promise me,” I say between breaths, my heart racing so fast I think it might just explode. “You have to fuck me every single day for the rest of our lives, Lucien.”
He says nothing. He simply leans into me and lays his lips against mine, a few drops of cum going from my mouth to his. With a smile, he runs his hand over my face and tucks a stray lock of hair over my ear.
“I thought that was already a given,” he tells me, his smile becoming wider and kinder. “You’re my life now, Kerri. You’re all that matters to me… And I promise you, I will grow old by your side.” His smile then turns into a grin, and he continues, “and yes, I’ll keep fucking you every single day even when we grow old.”
Lucien Stone. The love of my life.
Epilogue - As Told By Kerri
“Two margaritas, as ordered,” I say placing the tray down at the table and handing the women their drinks.
To call them women would be flattering them. In their daily lives their great-grandmothers, tasked with raising an army of children and maintaining order in their families.
But every evening in the tiny Mexican seaside town of Ciloteca, these ladies who must be pushing 90 leave their worries at home and come to this bar as they sit and drink margaritas and watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean.
“Gracias, chica,” one of the women says to me and I smile. It’s the end of my shift and I put my tray on the bar counter and walk around the bar.
It’s a quiet evening today, the local soccer match that’s happening at the stadium has much of the town focused on that. I walk up to the bartender who’s counting the money for the evening. He turns to me and smiles and I return the smile back. No words need to be spoken as he leans over and I wrap my arms around him and we kiss.
I feel his arms go around me and his hands descend down my back as we kiss some more. I raise myself on my tiptoes as I feel his hands reach for and cup my ass cheeks. I smile into him and pull back.
“Lucien,” I whisper, “We have an audience.”
Lucien Stone turns around and the ladies are looking at us and smiling. Or rather, they’re looking at him.
“Hola, guapo!” one of the ladies says as she raises her glass at Lucien.
“Muy chico!” I say with mock severity as I pull Lucien closer.
The ladies laugh good-naturedly and I smile to see if there are any customers left who will get info on the teasing that is most likely to commence.
But there are none. The sun is on its trajectory in descending over the Pacific Ocean and the bar is empty. People are all at the soccer match.
“Guess we better lock up?” Lucien asks me. I nod and we start going through the motions in closing up the bar for the evening.
After the first night in the motel, we realized we couldn’t stay in Southern California.
The next morning, we really ended up leaving everything that we had behind, converting as much as we could to cash, and hitching as many rides as we could find until we ended up in Mexico.
Once down south, Lucien was able to take charge again, finding us a place to live and a restaurant to work at.
We didn't have much. But we had each other. And we were happy.
And knowing Lucien, it wasn’t long before he purchased the bar and restaurant outright. I continued to waitress and Lucien continued serving drinks, only now he did this from behind the bar as opposed to walking around with a serving tray.
Life has been good. I have the man I love standing next to me.
I peek into the back room and look at the bassinet as it sits quietly. I crane my neck to the side a bit.
“Babies can tell when you’re watching them, Kerri” Lucien says from behind me, startling me.
I turn around and stick my tongue out at him and he chuckles, walking over to stand behind me so we can both take a look at our beautiful little baby daughter, Miranda.
I feel Lucien place a hand on my shoulder and I reach up with my hand to grab his.
We could have maybe stood there all night, watching our little daughter as she slept, but we’re interrupted by one of the town boys who runs up to the bar.
“Senor Marshall!” the boy yells as he comes up to the open-air bar that Lucien owns. “Senior Marshall! You have a letter! From Estados Unidos!”
Lucien turns to me and I shrug. Neither of us have been expecting anything from the US. Lucien never had much to look forward to since he was in jail, and once I sent off the paperwork to the attorney regarding his case, I had stopped looking for mail as well.
So, it is with some haste that Lucien leaves my side and goes over to the boy, thanking him, and begins to read.
I look to Lucien’s face to see what kind of reaction he’s having as he continues to read. But then again, I realize that this is Lucien Stone we’re talking about here. Rock sometimes has more expression than you can find on the face of this man.
Bereft of an expression to tell me what Lucien is reading I go up to him, curious as to what he’s seeing. But he looks up at me as I arrive.
“They’re dismissing all charges against me,” Lucien says. “They’re even awarding me a summary judgment for all the time and suffering that I’ve already endured. But basically, when they re-examined my case, they found that I wasn’t the killer who they had thought of at first.”
“So, you're cleared?” I ask, clapping my hands.
Lucien shrugs. “Well, they say I got an additional one year for inciting a prison riot,” he says. “But they’ve said that it’s started retroactively from the date of the riot.
“But Lucien,” I say trying to figure out what’s happening. “That's….”
Lucien nods. “That’s right. Even that sentence ends today.”
The enormity of what is happening takes a minute to dawn. Lucien helps me along.
“You did it, Kerri!” He says, grabbing me by the waist. “You looked at my case and found the problems with it and you sent it in to the lawyer. I would be a
bsolutely fucking nowhere without you.”
I blush to myself. I knew he couldn't have committed those crimes that he had been accused of and I remember myself thinking how amazing this man had been to me at the time. I think how amazing he really turned out to be. Like nothing I could have ever expected in any man.
And sure, I’m also happy and satisfied that the man I had held as mine had stayed this long and been this wonderful.
All this time, we stayed in Mexico because we could never go back home.
But now, with his sentence basically over and the state awarding him money for wrongful imprisonment, Lucien Stone has many options open to him.
I have become attached to the life we've built for ourselves. The bar on the beach. The sunsets over the Pacific Ocean. Moonlight strolls along the water as the tide rose. Sex on the beach every evening.
Was I ready to let this go?
“I don’t want to leave either, babe,” Lucien says, and I look up at him. I realize that he’s been staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
He smiles at me. “Just because I’m not running from the law doesn’t mean that we have to leave paradise, Kerri,” he says as he looks over at the room that Miranda sleeps in. “We have a life here. Friends. Purpose.”
I draw myself closer to my lover. We hadn’t gotten married because we were technically illegal immigrants in Mexico, with fake papers. But we could even get married now. I smile, thinking to myself that at a time like this, the first thing that was going through my head was marriage.
The two grandmothers finish their margaritas and wave at us, blowing kisses at Lucien as they leave the bar. The sun has set and dusk is now turning to night slowly.
“I don’t want to leave here,” I tell Lucien, raising my head to look up at him. “I love it here.”
He nods.
“I’m with you,” he says. “That’s all that matters.”
“And you’re free too,” I say with a twinkle in my eye. “You’ve been free down here.”
Lucien looks at me for a long moment and then he smiles.
“I may not have been in jail for a year, Kerri,” he says with a smirk. “But I can tell you that I haven’t been free since the day I fucking met you.”
Smartass.
I pull him close to me as we kiss. My hand descends down to his crotch for me to start squeezing his giant organ that's begun bulging in his pants.
There’s no rush to decide anything. The world is our oyster.
And for the first time, we’re free to do anything we like with it.
It’s an amazing feeling. Being free as a bird.
And making sure that you’re trapped with your soulmate.
Hey, it could be a lot worse.
But it isn’t. So, I’m glad.
The End
Offense & Defense
By Alexis Angel
Copyright 2017 by Naughty Angel Publishing
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.
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Alexis Angel
Colt
“Oh baby,” Monica moans as she looks back at me as the streets of Dallas zip past us. “You’re fucking me so good.”
I just grunt and slap her ass. She groans lewdly.
I look over to the driver for a second.
Good, I think with some relief. The divider in the limo is sealed off and the driver can’t hear her. She’s moaning like a whore and I fucking love it.
“You like that?” I ask with a nasty sneer of pride.
My 12-inch cock is sliding in and out of her, making a wet sucking noise as it ravages her pussy. Her pussy’s far from tight. But then again, I could fucking tell she was a dirty slut when she came up to me after the game.
“Hey baby,” she said to me, wearing a Dallas Devils jersey that was two sizes too small and a pair of skinny jeans that showed off the whale-tail of her thong. “My boyfriend’s gone home from the game early and taken the car. Mind giving me a lift back into the city?”
Ten minutes later, her clothes were scattered through the interior of the limo as the car made its way back to the city.
“Oh yeah, fuck me harder, baby,” Monica groans and as she does I speed up my strokes. I grab both of her ass cheeks and scoot closer. The natural bumping of the car as it goes down the highway adds the extra friction to the fuck. It stimulates my cock like nothing else.
“Fuck,” she says as I reach over and roughly grab her tit. I fucking love groupies. They don’t want any commitments. They don’t want to try and rescue you. Don’t want you to be a nice guy. They don't want anything more than a nasty fuck.
We’ve been fucking for a bit and my goal is to cum by the time we hit the city. I speed up my thrusts and really start nailing her, holding her by her dark hair, and pulling it back roughly.
She goes insane as her orgasm rips through her. Like a woman possessed by a demon, she starts bucking like a bronco. Her face falls into the seat and while she was on all fours before, now her legs are just jutting her ass out at me.
Just watching her pass out from cumming is enough for me. Her slut body has declared me the winner in this game of fuck. I’m the fucking king. I run my hands down her body and feel my balls tingling.
“I’m going to cum,” I growl, but Monica is already in the throes of another orgasm and an aftershock of an orgasm all cascading into one. She can’t even hear me, she's so far up in orbit.
My balls tighten up and I feel the familiar electric seizures go through my body. My eyes roll up in my head and I can feel my cock convulse. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two.
Fuck.
I shoot out rope after rope of thick gooey cum into the condom that’s sheathing my cock.
“Aargh,” I growl, and speed up my strokes, brushing the underside of my fucking cock against her swollen lips, sending shivers up and down my shaft up and up my spine. My body shivers and I open my eyes and exhale.
Fuck, that was just what I fucking needed to unwind. A willing slut to bend over and take my cock. A pussy to pound after a 32 - 12 win over the Toronto Trojans is just what the doctor ordered.
I pull my cock out and take off my condom. Monica rolls over onto her back, her legs still spread wide open. This bitch has no fucking shame at all. She looks at my condom full of cum and her eyes go wide.
“Jesus, Colt,” she says. “You cum so much! Is that all for me?”
I look over at her and shrug. Her eyes are glinting, thinking her body got me off so good and she’s a special snowflake. Truth is, I usually cum more. I cum in fucking quarts. My body is a fucking machine. No, it’s a fucking temple. A temple to sex. As the starting quarterback for the Dallas Devils and the best quarterback in the entire Nationwide Football League, it better be too - I didn’t play football from the age of eight to not have a fucking cut, ripped physique that Apollo would envy. To have a chiseled face and sculpted jaw that make mothers swoon even after they find out I nailed their daughters. A powerful frame with so much testosterone that fathers look up to me even after I’ve defiled their daughters. But so much testosterone has some side effects. And they’re all fucking good. Consequence number one - I have testicles the size of tennis balls and a 12-inch fucking monster cock. That’s fucking right. One foot of pussy pleasing power.
Consequence number two? I like to fuck. All the fucking time. All women. All shapes. All sizes. I’d fuck you if you wanted, too. I’d fucking eat you out until you fucking screamed so loud that only the birds would be able to hear you. But I wouldn’t be done yet. Then I’d use my fingers and stroke your fucking G-spot and make you squeal. You’d be begging for mercy by the time you came. And then and only then, after a two-orgasm appetizer would I stick my fucking cock in
to your pussy.
And you would be fucking ruined for other men, baby.
Trust me.
I grab Monica’s thong and use it to wipe my cock clean. It’s all gooey when I’m done and Monica looks at me in shock. Fuck, she’s not going to want to wear this.
I shrug and open the window to the limo and wrap the thong around the condom, creating a bullet and chuck it out with force. Probably should have put it in a bag or something because I see it splatter over the windshield of a police car. Whatever. They got some of Colt Stackford’s cum on their windshield. They could scrape it off and sell it on eBay, that shit is so fucking valuable.
But there must have been someone in the car because the police car opens on the driver’s side as the limo turns the corner. The last thing I see looking out the window is a uniformed police officer picking up the condom that’s now leaking cum and splattered on his windshield and looking my way as he makes a face. I laugh.
Too bad we’ve turned the corner. Oh yeah, and too bad I’m fucking untouchable.
“Stop the car,” I tell the driver, putting on my boxer briefs and jeans.
“Where are you going?” Monica asks me as I put on my clothes. She’s still naked.
I look at her. “It’s not me, babe,” I say, using the same lines as with every other woman who’s been to the back of the limo before her. “I gotta go, and I can’t have you come with me.”
She looks at me and realizes this is where she gets off.
What?
Don’t look at me like that. I’m not putting her in danger. The subway is right there. The bus too. It’s a nice part of town.
“Okay,” she says hesitantly. I watch her put on her clothes and I make sure she does it fast because all of a sudden I see the cum-car cop rounding the corner and begin walking towards the limo.
“I only got a minute, babe,” I tell her. “And then you got to get out, no matter what you’re wearing.”
Not wanting to be naked on the street, she puts as much of her jeans as possible and slips her jersey back on. She can’t find her bra, but I don’t offer to help her.
