The sting as he slapped me again ignited sparks throughout my tensing nerves. I moaned as he reamed me and his full lips pressed against mine, bruising the hood of my screaming bean, flattening my swollen wings.
The scent of my juices as they spilled into his mouth made me sigh a long, weeping gasp. His hands squeezed and crushed the soft globes of my buttocks. His mouth sealed and held me. The flesh of my stomach quaked and I pulled at my hair and my nipples.
My legs lifted as my hands clawed, my toes curled, my back arced. I clenched and stretched all over as he drank my bursts of cresting orgasm. He sucked and I whimpered. His tongue reached up and I moaned. He squeezed and I cried out. My thighs clamped around his head and he slapped me as I came again.
The whole of my body crumpled in a last throw but he wouldn’t stop. Not until I quivered, helpless and spent. Still I hungered, but I was exhausted.
He stood, unfastened the silver belt buckle and popped the buttons on his jeans, one by one. As he slid the denim down over his powerful thighs, the massive bulge inside his soft cotton briefs strained forwards and pointed towards me.
His gleaming muscles rolled, a choreographed landscape of flesh as he fetched me the tumbler of whiskey. Holding the glass took two hands and all my concentration and the fire that lit in the back of my mouth blazed all the way down my throat.
Larry’s soothed and caressed me. He stroked my flesh, damp and still trembling. He cupped my soft beasts and my body flickered back into life as he licked and sucked on my beasts, and tugged on my stinging nipples.
Behind the downy cotton, the weight of his stiffening cock throbbed against my thigh. Our mouths met and he pulled me to him, crushing me tight against his hard body.
My breath dragged out in a deep sigh as his hand coaxed me open again. The sensitive inner sides of my reddened petals flickered and filled and in my core I yearned. The hardness of his chest, the ridges of his rippled abs thrilled me as my fingers glided and felt down his body.
The tips of my fingers found the top of his shorts. I tried to tease him, running my fingers along the edge of his waistband, tripping them down the cotton and along the hard pulsing ridge. My concentration drifted though as my thighs fell apart, spreading and clenching, and my hips rocked to the relentless rhythm of his fingers in my well.
I bit on his shoulder and drug down his shorts. With my eyes clamped shut I felt the hot length of his shaft, smoothed over the head. I couldn’t wait. I needed him to fill me. I leaned back with my pelvis tilted up.
He snorted and looked down at me and his high-voltage grin told me it wasn’t going to be that simple.
“You got work to do yet, girl.”
He nodded slowly as I gripped his hot manhood harder. His fingers ran through my hair. Then gripped. The musty scent of him made me wetter than ever as he pulled my head towards his lap.
The fat staff of his cock curved up to meet my mouth. My tongue slipped around my lips as his slick, angry bulb rose towards me. I slipped my tongue over the contours of his underside as his cock slid into my warm, soft wetness.
He slid along the top of my tongue and I sealed my lips over him. The thrill of his pulses echoed through me.
The smoky tang of precum filled my head as his bulb nudged against the back of my throat. As the wet muscles of my throat engaged the top of his shaft, a sweet gush of thin saliva burst onto my tongue. My throat muscles gripped him and his throat let out a long, rasping groan.
Rapidly he pulled out of my mouth and flung me over onto my knees and elbows. He hauled my ass high and grabbed my hot mound as his cock burst into my plump, wet lips.
His cock rode high into me, sawing against the front of my channel, making he howl and gush. My boobs bounced below me and as he pummeled into me, he reached for them. Held them as they wobbled in his hands. Cupped them as they shook while he pounded me from behind.
He reached back and gripped my hips as he drove his pole harder into me, quickening his pace as his cock swelled and stiffened still more.
My neck and face reddened as his thighs slapped against mine. He yanked my hair. My neck lengthened and stretched out as he pulled back my head, turning my face to his. I looked in his eyes as his cock slammed into me.
Tightening and expanding sensations swirled and built to brimming waves within me, ready to bubble up, erupt and spill over. Then I felt his cock begin to pump. Rings of swelling pulses ran from the base to the head. Stronger and faster, his beat hammered into me.
My juices gushed. My fingers clasped and clawed, my back stretched and arched. The force of his hot fountain blasted and sprayed my inner chasm, heated and filled me, soaked me. Again and again he cannoned into me until we collapsed onto the wet sheets.
I stroked wet strands of his hair away from his face. I looked into his glistening, sleepy eyes and felt that I saw them for the first time. We panted together until we drifted off into sleep.
“You want to take your money out of the safe, trust me to go and win you the rest of what you need?”
Not knowing what time it was, drowsily I said, ‘No,’ but it wasn’t the whole truth. I wanted to do that, sure. I wanted more than anything right then to put all my trust in him, this rough stranger. Truth is, if I had been scraping the money together for myself then I probably would have trusted him. But I wasn’t doing it for me.
I was doing it for Daddy and I wasn’t prepared to take a chance, not any chance, that I wasn’t personally in charge of.
Odd thing, though, when I said, ‘No,’ Larry looked at me a long time before he said, “Belle, I like you more and more.”
© Alice May Ball, TzR Publishing, 2015
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or to any actual events is purely coincidental.
All the people portrayed in this story are over the age of eighteen, and entirely imaginary. If you think that you know some of them, or that you may be one of them, then you should consider writing fiction yourself.
Cover Design by Signs of Desire for TzR Publishing
Hard Ride: Biker MC Motorcycle Club Menage Steamy Romance 4 Story Bundle Set (Hot Tales From a Hard Road Book 2) Page 12
