Her back arched, pressing her shoulders and head into the mattress while lifting her breasts higher to the air as she pulled and milked her nipples with her long-fingered hands.
“God, what you are doing to me,” she groaned with a low urging voice. “Please don’t stop. Oh please, please, please don’t stop.”
That luscious and beautiful orgasm building up inside of her suddenly twisted and churned her hips. Electric spasms of heat and fire set off inside her thighs and ass and gripped her abs. The orgasm then rose up, like a wave from a calm sea, and kept rising inside of her.
“Oh shit!” she cried, and her hands left her breasts to grasp and pull at the bed sheets.
Higher it rose, and the agony of needful release rose with it. Hank’s fingers were fucking her hard now, and her hips pumped and gripped and squeezed at him, but now the agony of pre-climax was much more than she felt she could stand. She began to buck her hips, trying to break his rhythm and let her down a little. Hank responded by putting his other arm around her thigh, across her hips, and then clamping her down on the mattress with such force, the thrill of it was sucked up into her rising climax, plunging it higher.
“Oh shit, fuck, god damn it!” she cursed as she thrashed and clawed. Her hips still bucked but didn’t rise. Hank’s arm was simply too strong for her to budge.
She clawed and gripped and pulled at that arm, and then at his head between her thighs. She clamped her thighs together and tried twisting, but Hank proved too strong for that as well.
“Please Hank! Oh fucking please! Make me come! Fuck! Please! Shit, please! Please Hank!” she begged, because it had to be him, right? It had to be! Orgasms never went this far without climaxing, and the sudden intense rushes of agony washing through her were so fucking forceful. And she couldn’t get him off her so she could rub herself off! And he wouldn’t push her to the next step, and she was coming undone!
Then Hank did something with his tongue and bore down on her clit so hard, she thought for a moment it might pop off. Just go, Pop!
The wave curled, and for a brief moment she thought with pure clarity, “What have I done?”
The climax rolled her. Her screams came from the bottom of her lungs, and the release of agony was a blissful anguish which writhed and convulsed her for what seemed several minutes.
Her hair was drenched, as was her creamy white skin, with layers of sweat from excursions she was still unsure she was capable of.
He stood up from her, and she lay panting and gasping, biting her knuckle in her mouth, seeking the clarity of pain through this madness of lust. Looking up at him, he looked no less a road god now than when he had walked in the door of the club only a few hours ago.
She pulled herself together enough to defiantly say, “I don’t care how good you are at that, I’ll never lose to you on purpose.”
“Wouldn’t be a victory if you did, and I certainly wouldn’t reward such underhanded tactics.”
“Just so we understand each other,” she told him.
He nodded, and agreed, “Just so.”
Casually, and in a proprietary and familiar way, he lifted her legs up on his shoulders, and then cupped her ass and lifted her up to his cock.
“Wait,” she pleaded as she realize what he was about to do. “I’m so fucking excited down there, Hank! Wait! Stop! Let me suck you off! Shit, I’ll get a girlfriend to help me suck you off! No! Hank?! Wait!” she begged, and pleaded, and offered, and then she groaned out a deep, primal scream and writhed as he pressed into her pussy what had to be the thickest cock she ever experienced before.
The sensation was violently intense, and her orgasm rose up and climbed so quickly she thrashed and rolled her head from side to side, struggling to get some kind of control.
Cyn had never been with a man who could pull off this position. She wasn’t exactly a tiny girl. She was a full woman. She considered herself fairly strong, too. But Hank had her ass, and he was fucking her with deep, driving thrusts which drove her wild. And there was nothing she could do about it. Her ass was at least a foot off the bed! She couldn’t reach him with her hands, or get enough leverage to pull away from him. Until he let go, she was his to fuck as he pleased, which was an interesting and tantalizing thrill which pushed her orgasm to greater heights.
The climaxes came fast this time, and Hank’s rhythm continued to increase in speed. Through her inarticulate screams and clawing, he continued to fuck her harder and faster. His grip on her ass was deep and solid. Her arms stretched out wildly in all directions, searching for a grip or a hold or an edge to help pull herself off him. She found nothing, which only increased her panic as climax after climax ravaged the muscles of her abs with convulsions and tectonic shock-waves.
She couldn’t beg; she had no ability to use language. She could only growl and pant and roll her head from side to side as she pressed it into the mattress and wildly searched for something to hold onto with flaying arms.
When he came, she was near exhaustion. He hammered into her, and her body climaxed with him, more in celebration for the ending of the ravishment than for any lust she had left. She was very deeply satisfied and certainly well fucked.
He collapsed on the bed beside her, and then rolled onto his back to look at her ceiling with passive interest. Afterglow was already rising inside her, filling her with hot, golden energy.
She rolled up next to him, and said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not taking you seriously enough,” she said, and licked at his nipple. “A man like you should always be taken very seriously.”
“Forgiven,” he murmured.
“Want a beer? Water? More pussy?” she asked.
“All three before the night is through,” he told her, “but for now, a beer would be great.”
CHAPTER SIX
Their next session was much more loving, but just as deeply satisfying for Cynthia. Hank seemed to be pleased with their togetherness as well. Afterward, they talked until well past midnight. They decided to go out to the coast and up to Oceanside together. Tomorrow was Saturday, and Cynthia reasoned that she could bring her travel laptop and get some work done if they decided to rent a little beach hut for the day, like Hank was suggesting.
“I got enough for that,” he said. He nodded while she looked up at him from his chest, which she simply couldn’t get enough of. The man was very nicely muscled, and after having felt the blessings and power of those muscles twice, she really wanted to know much more about them. For the first time in her life, she had a glimpse into what men really got out of looking at and fondling breasts, because she was seriously into looking and fondling his chest for the whole evening.
“I’ve got money,” she said. “I can go half.”
“Never said you didn’t or couldn’t. Is it going to be an issue, though?”
“An issue? You mean will I get to feeling like you don’t see me as an equal if I don’t pay my own way? I hope you never see me as an equal then, and always pay my way.” She smiled, but then she lifted up and looked him in the eye.“Not treating me with respect, though, that’s a whole different thing. I’ll leave you hanging if you start treating me like a second-class citizen, or tell me to service your bros, or any other childish fantasy crap. Is that going to be an issue?”
“No, Cyn,” he said without hesitation. “That will never be an issue. I’m sure we’ll find plenty of things to have down-and-dirty battles over, and I even look forward to them with the preview you gave me today, but that, that will never, not once, be one of those things.”
She stretched up and kissed his lips. “Then you can pay all you want. Just let me know if I can help out to make it easier, because all I really care about is spending some time with you.”
She woke him up in the morning and sucked him off before getting coffee started. He staggered out into the living room after her. “So, with game time over, I can get dressed now?”
“Thought we’d take a shower toge
ther first. My shower is definitely large enough. It was built for handicap use. In fact, this whole house was redone for handicap use. That’s why the doorways are so wide and there are hand rails around the place.”
He eyed the stove. “And all the knobs are across the front, so you aren’t reaching over flames from your wheelchair.”
She looked at the stove, having never put that together before, but she nodded. “It is a brand new stove. I’ll bet that’s exactly the reason.”
They showered and then dressed for riding. He said their first stop was his place for fresh socks, and she nodded with a grin.
The trail down to his place from the main road was merely a break in the barbed wire fence line, and then a dirt track. The track led down to a small stand of trees, and then went for about two hundred feet up to the porch of a small white house with blue trim and a red shingled roof. It was cute, nearly as cute as hers. Nearly. It did have a great porch that was three steps up from the ground, which had a screen door and was sealed up with light insect netting all the way around. There was a chair sitting out there, a comfortable cloth-stuffed rocker, which looked like it got used almost daily.
“Want a line of coke?” he asked as he went through the front door and headed for his bedroom.
She followed as far as the living area, which was definitely all male. Rural country living all male, no less. Shot guns were racked up on one wall. The head of a coyote and the skin of one were tacked up as well. Stained and varnished wood slates covered the walls of the living room while white paint seemed to be everywhere else.
“Wouldn’t turn one down,” she said.
“Do you prefer crystal?”
“No, coke is good. I’m not fond of the comedown on crystal and it makes me horny as hell. So unless you would enjoy watching me masturbate like a monkey for several hours at a time, I’ll take the coke.”
He came back down the hallway. “Wow, that’s a tough one. Do you make chimp sounds, and the whole bit? That could be real entertainment.” He smiled.
She tossed one of the loose couch pillows at him. “No, and it’s not pretty.”
“Ah, well, then we’ll go with coke and get out of here. We should probably get some things to eat and drink in Lakeside. Fruit and stuff? At the farmers’ market?”
“Sounds good.”
At Lakeside, they shopped at the farmers’ market, picking out things to munch on in their beach cottage. Hank seemed distracted, and she tried to find what was annoying him, but she didn’t spot anything unusual around.
“You alright?” she asked. “The low growling noise your eyebrows are making is a little distracting.”
He gave her a quirky smile. “Interesting description.”
“I make a living reading interesting descriptions. Part of the package, I’m afraid.”
He stopped and searched her eyes, and then said, “This isn’t exactly planned, this thing between you and me, and if it was planned, I would crucify the planner, because it’s horrible planning.”
“Ok, what’s up?” she asked.
“There are things going on right now that you can’t know about. I can’t even curb your curiosity about them. I can’t even tell you why. So, if I say I can’t explain, I really, honestly, can’t explain. But someday, in like the next six weeks or so, I’ll tell you everything, if we make it that far. Otherwise, maybe we should just stop now and try to hook back up in six weeks, when I don’t have all of this crap going on.”
“I don’t like option B, so I’m going with option A,” she said.
“Alright then. So with all that in mind, I need to make a phone call. It would be better if you found some good grapes for us, and maybe a couple of bottles of wine,” he suggested.
“In other words, don’t listen in. Gotcha. Come find me when we can get out of here and back on the road. Will this be a regular event this weekend?”
“No, and that’s why I need to make the phone call now — so it won’t be,” he told her.
Accepting that, she left him heading for the grape display, wondering who was following them.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hank pulled out his cellphone and walked into a patch of shade. He dialed the number and waited for Orlin to pick up.
“Bueno?”
“Hi Orlin, Hank here. I was going to just let this happen, but my girlfriend is a straight, and Ernando sucks enough at following me around that she’s going to pick up on him and start asking me to call the police. I’m sure he’s on his own, right? Because if you still need to keep this close of an eye on me, then maybe we should just call it quits and move on.”
Orlin was the head of a local cartel. It was small in comparison with the great ones in Mexico, but it was growing in strength and power every year. Orlin was quiet for a long time, and then said, “He is there? Ernando? You are sure.”
“Can’t miss that ’67 Chevy truck shell with the racing chaise and track tires. The paint job alone is a dead giveaway. Silver with flames.”
“He’s in his own truck doing this?”
“Yes, Orlin, he’s in his own truck and she’s going to spot him. We agreed that time off was a good thing with the calendar we have coming up, right?”
“Si, yes, in fact I am with my family now. I will take care of this. I don’t know why he does such things. But I will take care of it right now.”
“Hated to call you about it,” Hank told him.
“No, no, it was the right thing to do. Have a good weekend and I will see you Thursday, yes?”
“Yes, Thursday morning, ready for work.”
***
Ernando Delvalle felt that his luck thus far was perfect. He figured that Lakeside could not be that big of a place, so he would eventually find Hank. Even if he didn’t, it didn’t matter. It only mattered that he tried. The gringo was playing them. He knew it. He could feel it in his nuts.
When Hank pulled into the main street a few car lengths ahead of him with another rider, who was obviously female, heading for the farmers’ market, Ernando knew it was a sign. He was going to find something on this damn gringo today. And then he was going to put a fucking bullet in his brain.
Looking over at his brother Ramone, he said, “See, I told you we would find him. We are meant to find him.”
His younger brother spotted Hank too and felt it was more like a curse.
“We have checked Hank out, Ernando,” he sighed to his brother. “We have checked him out again and again. He is not a cop, has never been a cop. Military for only four years, honorable discharge, never went back. Plenty of good training, very good experience. Twenty-nine confirmed kills with almost twice as many unconfirmed. He’s not even a gringo like you keep calling him. He has more Spaniard in him than you do.”
Ernando was about to fire a scorching array of insults at his brother when the phone rang. He picked it up, ready to turn it off, but saw it was Orlin calling. “Fuck,” he hissed. He answered and said, “Benuo?”
“Is it good, Ernando? Because I’m hearing it is not so good. Are you really in Lakeside right now, in your own truck no less, following Hank around and ruining his days off? Seriously? Is this what you are doing?”
Ernando looked around, wondering how that fucking gringo — and fuck what Ramone had to say about his blood — could have possibly spotted him. He was three blocks away, behind a main road with passing cars and with bushes!
“Si,” he admitted, because to do otherwise simply wasn’t an option.
“Then you are coming down to Mexico now. You have obviously been working too hard, amigo. Come to my mother’s house. Spend a few days here, clear your head. That last session was very busy, I understand, but it is time to … how is it said? Decompress. Yes. Decompress. So, drive down here now.”
“Si, Orlin,” he sighed. “Maybe it is getting to me. I am on my way.”
“Good. You are a good man, and a loyal one. But this stuff with Hank, it is too much. He’s already paid his way ten times over. Just in his observ
ations of making the landing strips was enough to pay his way.”
“Yes, but how can he know all of these things without help, and who is he getting this help from? Can he really know about landing strips and headlight covers, and transportation routes that won’t have DEA crawling over them, and everything else? No, he has someone giving him this information. It’s not just popping out of his skull.”
“Ernando, enough! You are wearying me. He has explained all of these things, many times. He is a very good observer and makes very good decisions on what he observes. You are not to bother him again. Now, drive. I’ll see you in two hours, no more, amigo. Not a minute more.”
Ernando closed the connection and saw, across the road, Hank and the redheaded puta getting back on their motorcycles. He studied her, and had a very good idea.
Outlaw's Wrath - An MC Brotherhood Romance Boxed Set Page 28
