Hung (Selected Sinners MC #4)

by Scott Hildreth

  I was thirsty, worn completely out, and my pussy felt as if it were on fire. We’d been fucking on and off for almost two hours, and my arms were not only bound together at my wrists, but secured to the headboard of the bed. On my belly with my ass in the air and my tits pressed into the comforter, I truly wondered if I could outlast him.

  For him to get me to give in, he’d have to fuck me to death.

  “No. I’m not giving up,” I growled as I arched my back against him.

  “Fuck it. Have it your way,” he said as he shifted his weight to the side.

  I peered over my shoulder and watched him as he walked to the dresser and removed a small plastic bag. After removing what looked like a tube of toothpaste, he turned toward the bed.

  “Turn around before I slap that ass again,” he said as he climbed onto the end of the bed.

  Resting partially on my forearms and partially on my elbows, I turned toward the bed and sighed.

  Oh fuck he’s not going to…

  I felt the lubricant between my ass cheeks. As I began to speak, he pressed one hand against the center of my back lightly and attempted to comfort me.

  “Shhh,” he whispered.

  I felt his finger along the crack of my ass, gliding back and forth lightly through the lubricant. As the tip of his finger slid across my anus each time, my sphincter would tighten and my entire spine would tingle. As much as I wanted to hate what he was doing, I began to enjoy it immensely.

  After a few more strokes of his finger, I felt light pressure against my anus. Within a split-second, his finger was in my ass.

  And I loved it.

  In and out his finger slid, causing me to moan in pleasure with each stroke. I buried my face into the comforter, not necessarily wanting him to understand how much I was enjoying what he was doing.

  I pulled against the restraints. Acting as if he was doing everything against my will provided me with even more satisfaction. As I yanked against the binding which held my hands to the headboard, I arched my back and mentally begged for him to never stop.

  I wondered if I was supposed to enjoy it, and felt almost guilty for doing so. After a few seconds, I felt more lubricant on my ass, and sighed into to the comforter relieved and excited he intended on continuing. His finger repeatedly slid in and out of my ass slowly. My pussy, which I was certain fifteen minutes earlier was done for the night, began to tingle. Whatever he was doing was working.

  I wanted more cock.

  I lifted my head from the comforter, craned my neck rearward, and growled.

  “Fuck me.”

  “Believe me,” he said as he continued to fuck my ass with his finger, “I intend to.”

  I felt his hand slide up the center of my back and grip my hair. As he pulled my hair taught, I arched my back in response.

  “That’s right. Arch that back good, Kat. I want to get that spot. You know the one,” he breathed.

  Do I ever…

  “Do it,” I growled, “Do it…”

  After a second of slight pressure against my pussy, it opened up like a spring tulip, allowing his length to easily slide inside. As he slowly began to fuck my pussy with his massive cock, his finger continued to fuck my ass. The sensation of both holes being filled at once was embarrassingly sensual. I bit my bottom lip, hoping the sensation would last forever, but knowing I was a matter of minutes from collapse.

  He pulled against my hair sharply. As I arched my back further, the tip of his cock pressed against my g-spot. A tingling sensation throughout my lady bits reminded me once again of Dalton’s sexual strength.

  He knew how to fuck me right.

  And he had the equipment to do it.

  “You like that little finger of mine in your ass, Kat?” he asked through his teeth.

  I lifted my head from the bed, “Yes. Yes I do.”

  His cock slid back and forth, sending a sensation throughout my lower body with each in stroke. His speed increased and within a few seconds he was pounding himself into me with tremendous speed, his hips pounding against my ass and his tight scrotum slapping against my clit with each stroke. His finger continued to fuck my ass, causing a tingling that seemed to connect my ass to my pussy. My mind had gone into sexual sensory overload. It was almost as if my brain was incapable of realizing all of the feelings my body was experiencing in real time.

  My body began to tense into one solid contracted muscle.

  This was going to be it.

  I was going to die.

  I clenched my eyes closed and focused.

  And he stopped.

  He slowly pulled his cock from my sopping wet pussy, and his finger from my perfectly satisfied virgin ass. I opened my eyes, turned my head to the side, and pulled against the restraints.

  “No, don’t stop. I was…” I begged.

  I realized I was out of breath and attempted to take another gulp of air and speak my mind.

  While my mind worked to catch up with my body and my tongue sought a little guidance to form the words I desperately needed to say, I felt pressure once again against my ass.

  Thank God.

  I sighed and pushed my face into the comforter.

  But it wasn’t his finger this time.

  A light vibration and a little more girth caused me to open my mouth and widen my eyes. I had no idea what he’d snuck out of the dresser and onto the bed, but whatever it was…

  I loved.

  With my mouth agape and my mind reeling to accept a totally new feeling of sensual and sensual bliss, I willingly allowed him to explore my ass with his buzzing butt toy.

  In and out of my ass he slid the joyous delight. I bit my lower lip, knowing I was enjoying the experience far more than I should. I had no idea if this was punishment, an effort on his part to get me to scream uncle, or if he intended for it to be pleasurable, but I was loving every minute of it, and every stroke of my little buzzing friend. I pulled against the restraints, released my lip, and began to breathe heavily.

  I desperately needed to rub my clit and cast myself off into space.

  “You like it when I fuck that tight little ass, Kat?” he said through his teeth.

  I opened my mouth and craned my neck slightly. The words came a few seconds later, cast from my lungs in a bust of warm breath.

  “Love it,” I heaved.

  “I’m going to fuck it good for you, Kat. I’m going to make you give up. I’m going to win,” he breathed.

  I lowered my head to the comforter and pressed my face flat against the fabric.

  “Do it…” I grunted.

  I wanted it all. Every girlfriend who’d ever spoken to me about anal told me it was dirty, nasty, and painful. I had no idea who was fucking them in the ass, but obviously it wasn’t Dalton. As he continued to work his magic in and out of my ass, I felt guilty, dirty, nasty, and absolutely satisfied.

  A few more strokes with my newfound buzzing friend, and he pulled it from inside of me. With my ass still tingling, and my mind begging for more, I grunted the word no into the surface of the bed. I needed to gain the strength to raise my head and protest, I wanted more.

  Anal sex was my new escape, and I needed to become lost in it.

  Face down and ass up as they say, I attempted to gain the strength to beg for more. Try as I might, I could not. I was completely exhausted and pretty damned close to extremely satisfied.

  He pulled against my hair with his hand, causing me to raise my head and arch my back. He pulled steadily, and with more force. As he pulled, I arched my back ever further, knowing regardless of my desire to win this ridiculous competition; I was going to have to throw in the proverbial towel. As I no more than opened my mouth, I felt pressure against my anus again.

  “Breathe, Kat. You need to breathe,” he whispered.

  He was right. I was going to pass out if I didn’t watch myself. I was a mental mess.

  As I tried to decide whether to thank God or scream for him to stop, I felt the unmistakable girth of his cock
slowly penetrate my anus and begin to slide into my ass. My mind said no, but my ass was saying yes. Within a few seconds, my ass won the argument, and my mind eventually agreed.

  And my mind drifted off into heaven.

  “You got something to say, Kat?” he growled as he pulled steadily on my hair.

  I shook my head.

  “Not a fucking word?” his laugh was almost sinister.

  I bit my lower lip and shook my head once more.

  “You like that big fat cock in your tight little ass?” he asked as his hand came down against my right butt cheek.

  Oh fuck yes. Slap it.

  “Fuck…yes,” I blurted as he continued to slowly fuck my ass.

  The sensation was indescribable. Whether it was a combination of previous feelings – or his cock in my ass alone was causing it – I didn’t care. All I knew was that it felt so far beyond amazing.

  His hand slapped my ass again, sending a stinging feeling along my thigh. I pressed my face into the comforter and breathed against the material, feeling my breath surround my face each time I exhaled. After another obvious squirt of lubricant, he maintained his perfect rhythm of slowly fucking my ass deeply, carefully, and perfectly.

  And then his free hand found my clit.

  It was too much. I would have stopped him if I could, but with my hands tied, I wasn’t able to do anything but writhe against him on the surface of the bed.

  “Dalton…” I begged.

  “Shhhh, not a word,” he whispered.

  I lowered my head and bit into the fabric. As I clenched it in my teeth, he carefully fucked my tight ass and flicked his finger against my swollen nub. My nipples began to ache. I released the comforter from my teeth and howled out into the room.

  As he slowly and steadily fucked my ass while fingering my clit, I felt as if my body burst into pieces and was thrust out into the room - pieces of me traveled in each and every possible direction. I felt like a human firework, exploding into thousands of small fragments and being cast out into the sky for all to enjoy.

  As my screaming echoed throughout the room, he carefully pulled his cock from my ass. Within a few seconds I heard him groan and I felt his warm cum against my back, and along the crack of my ass.

  I collapsed into the comforter.

  This time, I was truly done. To continue would kill me.

  His chest pressed against my back lightly and his beard tickled my cheek.

  “Truce?” he breathed into my ear.

  I tilted my head to the side.

  “No winner, no loser?” I whispered.

  “Yep. Two winners. Deal?” he asked under his breath.

  “Deal,” I responded.

  I realized as he reached to untie me that not only was Dalton different than anyone I would probably ever meet, but that he was caring, kind, and always considerate of me. His huge heart was disguised by a beard, tattoos, gauges in his ears, and an outer bad-boy shell as tough as diamonds.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  KAT

  I could recall when I was young and my grandmother died from breast cancer. The feeling deep in the pit of my stomach when my parents told me she passed away wasn’t anything I could compare to another feeling. The pain was deep, dull, and lasted for what seemed to be a lifetime. Since her death, I had never felt anything comparable, but I had not had to deal with death again either.

  When I was a little older, my brother won the bull riding competition at the state level. The bull they selected for him was a tough one, feared by most men, and known for breaking bones, maiming riders, and just being downright mean. Upon learning which bull he was to ride that night, we all felt as if he could certainly die trying to ride it for the eight second requirement.

  His ride was nothing short of perfect, he scored an 88, and he won the competition. The feeling I felt for him, the level of joy, and the depth of my pride was the polar opposite of what I felt when my grandmother died.

  That level of joy, at least for me, had yet to be matched.

  Until now.

  “So, you ready to talk?” Dalton asked.

  I took a bite of my eggs, and as I chewed them, glanced in his direction, “Sure.”

  “Alright then,” he said as he placed his fork on the plate.

  “I want this baby to be mine. I wanna adopt it or whatever I have to so you and I can raise it like a family. And, I guess it goes without sayin’ that I want you to stick around here forever,” he said flatly.

  I dropped my fork onto the plate. Although I meant to place it there, my mind disagreed. It fell the twelve inches from my hand to the plate with a loud clank.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I responded.

  As the words escaped my mouth, I felt like a fool. I was elated, overjoyed, and beyond grateful.

  “I don’t have to do anything. I realize that, Kat. I want to. Been thinkin’ about it for some time now. No matter what becomes of Kyle, I want that baby to be mine. Well, you know, ours. I want that. What do ya think?” he asked.

  He was so calm. So matter-of-fact. It was difficult for me not to jump up, bounce across the table, and hug him.

  “I think that would be nice. I like the thought of it,” I responded.

  I was going to start crying. There was no two ways about it. It was coming, and I could tell.

  “Axton’s Ol’ Lady, Avery, works for an attorney. I’ll see what we have to do to get something done, but I just want you to know, I want to raise that baby like it’s my own. I want you to know that, Kat. No need in havin’ that kid grow up like I did, none at all,” he said as he reached for his fork.

  “None at all,” I agreed as I shook my head.

  I covered my hand with my mouth and coughed.

  “Bathroom,” I said as I tossed my head to the rear and stood.

  He nodded his head.

  As I turned away, I began to softly cry. On my way to the bathroom, tears of joy ran down my cheeks and onto the floor. Once in the bathroom, I turned on the exhaust fan and the faucet to mask the noise.

  And I cried tears of happiness while thinking about having a child and living with the man I truly loved.

  All at the same time.

  When the tears finally stopped, I wiped my face, grateful it was early in the morning and I hadn’t done my makeup yet.

  I glanced in the mirror and grinned.

  I walked into the kitchen and sat down. After studying my plate for a moment, I glanced in Dalton’s direction. He had bitten a hole in the center of his piece of toast and held it in front of his right eye, peering through it as if he were looking through a knot hole in a fence.

  “You know,” he said, “Lookin’ through this piece of toast like this is the shits. You can only see what’s right in front of ya. And when I move it to the side…”

  He moved the toast beside his face and let it dangle from his fingers.

  “Well, then you can see it all,” he grinned as he surveyed the entire kitchen.

  I nodded my head and eventually began to laugh.

  “I’m thinkin’ I had toast eye for my entire damned life and meetin’ you was like chuckin’ the fucker to the side,” he said as he tossed the toast toward the sink.

  I glanced toward the sink. The toast landed perfectly in the center. I turned to face him, still giggling at the analogy he’d created.

  “Toast eye?” I chuckled.

  “Not anymore,” he said.

  Dalton wasn’t a difficult man by any means.

  But he was complex. Complex in a very simple way.

  And as simple as that, Dalton had made me comfortable that not only did he want to raise another man’s child as his own, but that he attributed the broader field of vision in his recent life to having me as a lover.

  Well, that and knocking the toast away from his eye.

  KAT

  Regardless of the resentment I felt toward my father, he was still my father. As much as I wanted to go against his each and every wish
, from time to time his desires and mine were either similar or exactly the same. It was infrequent that he agreed with me, but when he did it allowed me to understand he had the ability to be human.

  “I don’t know. We were together three years,” I sighed, “To try and count them now would be impossible.”

  “Educated guess?” my father shrugged.

  I gazed beyond him and toward the people seated at the far side of the coffee shop, “Fifteen or maybe twenty.”

  “Actual beatings? Where he hit you?” he asked, trying to keep his rage from showing.

  I bit my lower lip and nodded my head slightly.

  “Not like this time, but yeah. You know, slapped me. Pushed me against the wall and slapped me. Sometimes he drug me around the house by my hair. I don’t know what you want to call it all, but I call it bullshit. I mean looking at it all now, I call bullshit. At the time I was just, I don’t know. I think I told myself it was part of it. You know part of what it was like to be in an adult relationship. Fuck, I don’t know,” I sighed.

  “Watch your mouth, Katrina,” he said through his teeth.

  “Seriously? Watch my mouth? Okay,” I huffed as I glanced down toward my shoes.

  “Listen,” he said as he reached for my shoulder.

  I shifted my eyes upward and met his gaze. His face portrayed his true feelings for once. He was sorry.

  “Why didn’t you ask me for help? Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” he asked softly.

  I shrugged my shoulders, “Because you didn’t raise a pussy. You’re a cop, and don’t get mad, but you’re a dick cop. You raised me like I was another son. My best friend growing up was my bull riding brother. I’m not soft, and I don’t complain. It’s over, and I lived through it. I’m a stronger person now. You know, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”

  “A dick cop?” he half chuckled and half cried.

  Without responding, I widened my eyes slightly and tilted my head to the side in affirmation as I turned my palms upward.

  He reached up and wiped his finger along the bottom of his eye as he turned his head to the side slightly. After a long sigh, he faced me again.