Bad Boy Romance: Bad Marine (Bad Boy Military Romance) (Alpha Bad Boy New Adult Contemporary Male Stories)

by Joyner, GP

  Her fingers curled around the shaft of his still semi-flaccid penis, warm and moist to her touch, and the supreme instrument of her distraction. She seized hold of the loose skin of his cock, and began to stroke her fingers along his considerable length, working her wrist up, up, up, down, down, down, slowly, gently, savoring the inflation of his masculinity. The blood pumped through his dick, causing it to grow firm and erect in her grip, a feeling which she loved beyond comparison, knowing that it was her touch that could pull him from his blackness, from the intensity of his misery, and elevate him to such a vastly improved state of existence.

  He was moaning now with satisfaction, always a good sign, and she began to pump harder, holding the skin pressed to the base of his shaft, letting the sensation mount, and then releasing him, pulling the skin back up to his engorged purple tip, and repeating the motion, again and again and again and again.

  “Ohhhhhhhhh, Godddddddd,” he sighed. He leaned in as she continued to masturbate him, and pressed his lips against the flesh of her neck, nibbling and kissing and licking her skin, inhaling a great waft of the scent of her hair, from which he could feel himself going lightheaded. His hands drifted upward, and this time it was her pulling away, whimpering softly, as he cupped his fingers around her breasts. Her tits throbbed with the application of his touch, burning with erotic sensation as he caressed the silky terrains, pushing them around and around and around on her chest, her body beginning to glow, to radiate with the sweet, sweet feeling. His fingers collapsed around the circumference of each nipple, causing them to grow firm and erect beneath his grip, and she sighed with passion.

  And then, God help her, he leaned down, and allowed his mouth to take over where his hands left off. His lips dissolved around each precious titty, his tongue rolling around the nipples, lapping her up, nibbling playfully on her. It was as though he was nursing on her, suckling for support and for dear, dear life in his fright and his insecurity, and she craved being needed this way. Craved the worship of her body as a life-sustaining force for his continued survival, craved the dynamic they shared that made her feel safe and secure beyond a doubt, knowing that she was the only source he could turn to to sustain himself.

  Down below, his erect cock had blossomed into its full length and stiffness, and was beginning to ooze a clear string of jizz from its engorged tip, seeping from the head and drooling down along into her pumping fingers, causing her masturbatory efforts to produce a sweet, soft squelching sound as she pumped and pumped and pumped.

  She knew that it was time to proceed further.

  She pulled back from him, and his mouth still worked adorably toward her nipples, like a baby bird whose mouth works for food even when its mother is nowhere around. For a moment he feared vaguely that he might shrivel up and die with her sudden absence, but of course things were only about to get steamier.

  She lowered herself slowly, slowly down, still working the skin of his erect penis as she stooped down to her knees, to the point finally at which her face became level with the engorged purple tip of his penis. She stroked and stroked and stroked until the point that a milky white pearl of pre-cum seeped through the tip, at which point it seemed the perfect opportunity to move forward.

  He braced himself as she leaned, and let her lips melt around the fat bulb of his penis, sliding slowly, slowly down along the immense length of his erection, her tongue skimming brusquely along the underside of his shaft. She pressed down after some time against his base, her lips colliding with his scrotum, and he let out a great exhale of satisfaction, the warmth of her mouth surrounding him, engulfing him with pleasure.

  She began to suck, to move her head slowly, slowly, slowly back, building up an immense, ungodly, and utterly wonderful suction as she held herself locked at his tip. Then, the tension resolved itself as she pushed back down along him, then a great gust of air swallowing him whole as she slid him back down into her throat.

  “Ohhhhhhhh, Goddddddd,” he moaned, closing his eyes, leaning his head back, letting the light of the full moon only just penetrating the faint cracks between his eyelids.

  She reached around behind him, seizing hold of his ass to stabilize herself, and began to work her entire body into fellatio, wriggling around and around and around, bobbing her beautiful head so that her chestnut hair danced in the moonlight, and her tits swung about like pendulums from the thrusting of her perfect body. Terry opened his eyelids and peered down at her, savoring the sight of her lips around his penis, her cheeks sunk in with suction, making her face look erotically skull-like, her dark eyes glaring up at him as she bobbed and pushed and pumped. And it was all for him, he knew. The twisting of her tongue around his veiny shaft, and the pressing of his tip to the back of her throat, and the accumulation of saliva and mucus from her throat surrounding him, surely choking her in its abundance as it pooled up inside her mouth. All of it, every last drop of this carnal splendor, was her gift to him. Her offering of salvation.

  He put his hand on the back of her head, helping to push her into himself, and taking advantage of his positioning to feel the soft, silky strands of her hair, flowing and cascading through his fingertips, the only thing in the world, he thought, that could make this moment even better than it already was.

  She sucked and sucked and sucked, pleasuring him as only she could, and at last pressed down one final time against his body. He held her in place for so long that she began to shake, her nostrils flaring as she struggled to breathe, until at last he released her. She pulled off of him with an immense gasp, her ears throbbing from the lack of oxygen, and a long, sticky band of the substance from her throat corded from his erection to her lips, drooping down, down, down, and snapping, separating the two of them at last, the two halves swinging onto each of their respective anatomies. She made a loud slurping noise and dabbed at the excess spittle now seeping across her chin, turning him on immensely as he watched, and he reached down and began to stroke his own slippery cock as he took in the sight. She smiled at him as she removed the last few dabs of spit from herself, and then extended a hand to him.

  “Come on... Let's go back to bed.”

  He did as he was told, allowing himself to be led obediently by the hand, like a dog on a leash, to the bed where they shared their love.

  She laid him down, then draped her body over him like an extra blanket, and pulled the sheets over the two of them, cutting themselves off utterly and completely from the world outside.

  Beneath the layer of their solitude the two of them continued to kiss like newlyweds, their limbs entwined and entangled, their bodies growing hotter and hotter and hotter with the limited circulation of air, and perspiration sticking the two of them together as his fat, erect cock slid along the flat, toned surface of her abdomen.

  She ran her kisses down along his body, from his lips, to the side of his neck, his shoulder, and finally down to his chest, where she ran her tongue in circles around each of his nipples, as he'd done to her only shortly before. Then, she lifted herself up, straddling his waist, and aligning her body with his own.

  “Ohhhh,” she groaned, as she lowered herself down onto him. The tip of his penis plunged through the sopping wet folds of her twat, cleaving her in two as the long, throbbing blade of his shaft hooked itself into the narrow, moist crook of her vagina. At last she pressed herself fully down all the way, and the sensation of him inside her was almost too wonderful for words at this hour of the night. She breathed heavily as she struggled to contain him, closing her eyes, and simply feeling herself, her cunt stretched out to a degree that was absolutely delectable, her tits pooled up about her on his chest, her body trembling with the burning of her loins.

  She lifted herself up, and began to rock, to dance rhythmically atop the pulsing spear of his cock. Her body swayed and shook and flowed like water, her breasts swinging from her chest with the light sensual movements, the burning lips of her gash grinding and stretching around the stiff, obtrusive insertion of his prick. She reached down an
d began to rub herself as she smeared her body against him, doubling the sensations now coursing through her body, her pussy so wet that when she pulled her hand back it was glistening in the dark, much to his arousal. She hooked her slick fingers into her mouth, tasting her own fluids for his pleasure, and she could feel his fingers curling deep into her flesh with satisfaction, making her smile.

  She began to bounce, to hop, to pogo up and down and up and down on top of him, her tits bouncing like basketballs across her chest as she pumped and humped and fucked, cleaving herself to bits, the sensations getting hotter and hotter and hotter as their wet genitals smacked together, KLAP, KLAP, KLAP, KLAP, KLAP, and she began to shriek, to moan at the top of her lungs, “Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh GODDDDDD!”

  And soon she'd exhausted herself, her body strobing with energy but her bones weary from trying to support her fucking weight, and she had to rest, to allow herself to collapse back on top of Terry's heaving chest, and to close her eyes while recovering from the damage she'd done to herself.

  But that was okay.

  That was more than okay.

  They'd rubbed so much friction into one another that it was only a short walk to get to where they wanted to be, and Terry, even in his own exhaustion, was more than capable of taking over from here.

  He pulled her face back up into him, and she wrapped her arms around his wet head as their lips once more melted together. And down below, he seized hold of her sumptuous ass, curling his fingers into each tender cheek, and pushing her down, down, down, down. He worked her jiggling ass like dough, sliding her pussy up up up up, down down down down along the curved blade of his erection as he did so, sliding innnnnn, ouuuuuut, innnnnn, ouuuuuut, in a slow, dizzy pace that was almost hypnotic. The kindling in their dissolving loins caught fire, burning into an intense inferno, setting them over the edge.

  At last, he ceased his pumping, holding himself pressed deep into her body, and letting orgasm overtake the two of them. He ejaculated into her, pelting the insides of her cunt with long, hot, molten bands of his sperm, coating her interior walls in a thick, delectable layer of the stuff, shuddering and groaning as his seed pelted from his body, each throb of his penis an explosion of life, and yet a slow, slow dying. On top of him, Victoria was moaning exquisitely with sensation, orgasm ripping through her body like wildfire, her shoulders quaking, her knees knocking, and wave after wave of convulsions shooting like a drug through every nook and cranny of her soft, perfect body.

  “OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHHHHHH...”

  And at last she exhaled, a great, enormous sigh, and it was all over.

  Her mouth hung limply open, and Terry stared at it, leaning in, and kissing the wet, unresponsive lips, until at last they reacted, and began to peck him lightly in return, nibbling on his lower lip, and the two of them gouging one another for the last, hidden niblets of love.

  Soon after he pulled out of her, she was asleep once more. And once again he watched her there beside him, her delicate body scarcely stirring in sleep, the faint blowing of her breath and the occasional whimper of slumber the only concrete signs that life still flowed through her perfect form.

  And still, sleep eluded Terry.

  Victoria's efforts had only had their intended effect upon one of them, and not the one she'd intended them to tranquilize, but herself.

  It wasn't her fault, as he'd told her before. This wasn't something that was hers to fix, but his own.

  ...Or was it?

  An idea suddenly stole over him, and his eyes went wide as he continued to watch her sleeping there beside him.

  She'd said it herself, only moments ago: she would do anything for him, if only she had it within her to make things better for him.

  And he, in turn, he would do anything to undo the damage he'd surely inflicted upon Preston, his best and only friend in the world for so many long, lonely years.

  Maybe, just maybe, he had thought of a way...

  The undergrowth crackled and snapped and shifted beneath the weight of his four paws, carrying him effortlessly through once familiar terrain, now long abandoned, but the treading of his past footsteps so familiar that it was surely impossible to ever forget his way.

  The light rained down in golden shafts through the treetops, a new day, and the previous night's restlessness now a distant memory, an incident never to be repeated, he hoped, given the success of what he hoped to accomplish in the course of today's rendezvous. Victoria was at work for the day, and he'd left shortly after her departure for the office, rather uncertainly at first. It filled him with anxiety to return to this forsaken place, a fear hardly assuaged by the prospect of his first encounter with Preston in what surely must have been almost a year at this point. He prayed to God that Preston didn't tear him to shreds for his abandonment the moment he set eyes on him, and even more desperately he hoped that Preston would share the same enthusiasm for the plan he had in mind.

  He paced through the woods for what felt like hours with no signs of life larger than a squirrel, or the occasional deer that darted off into the trees the instant he set eyes on it. In these instances he could feel his mouth begin to salivate with the long forgotten taste for blood, the desire to kill and to devour that had once plagued him almost constantly. And such memories, as these were what caused him such trepidation for his return, as important as it was that he did so for Preston's sake.

  He powered onward, moving and moving and moving for God only knew how long, but it was becoming apparent that he had no semblance of an idea of where to look for his old friend, and the aimless search was rapidly beginning to get to him.

  He decided to take a different approach.

  He closed his eyes, lowered his pointed ears to his skull, and let out a loud, booming howl toward the sky, startling birds from the treetops, and sending them shimmering off in the direction of the horizon.

  And into the clearing stepped a man, thick and muscular and completely naked, his body covered with sweat, his eyes glaring intently at the canine trespasser, who looked at him in return with a mixture of emotions, the joy of reunion mingling with a fear of being rejected.

  The wolf reared back on its haunches, and climbed from its canine state of existence into human, its limbs repositioning themselves along its body, its fur receding into its skin, its frame growing larger and larger until Terry was standing upright, face to face with his old friend.

  “Hello... Preston...”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Preston said in response, the anger evident in his eyes, and added, “Where the hell have you been?”

  Terry had indeed left without explanation, overwhelmed as he'd been at his departure. It was thus that he struggled for some time for a proper way to begin his story, reaching far, far back in his mind for the end of those dark days, looking for some justification for what Preston must surely, perhaps rightly, have viewed as an unforgivable act of betrayal.

  At last he began.

  “Look... There's no excuse for me leaving you... I'm not going to pretend that there is. But I met someone. Someone who changed my life in a way I never imagined was possible... Who's made me happier than I have been for years... For all of my life, really...”

  “A shifter?” he asked, looking skeptical, temporarily setting aside his anger for the sake of scratching his curiosity.

  “No... No, that's the thing... A human... Completely and totally human... And she changed me... I'm in control now- whenever a full moon comes around I can stop myself from transforming, just as long as she's around. It's like there's something magical around her. Something that saves me from myself... Something that lets me have my life back...”

  “Fuck you,” he said, so jealous of what he was being told that he decided not to believe it, and turned to walk away.

  “No, Preston, wait! Look, I'm telling you, it was awful of me to leave you like that... To abandon you the way I did... I've regretted that decision every day since the moment it happened.”

  “An
d it's taken you a fucking year to come back and tell me that? You seem pretty goddamn choked up about it...”

  Terry sighed, knowing that he wasn't making a good case for himself, but determined to do his damnedest to offer his friend the same salvation he'd been given.

  “Look... I knew the moment I laid eyes on Victoria that she was going to change my life... And she did... And you just can't walk away from something like that... It was... It was like I was drawn to her, the instant I saw her, like I physically couldn't stop myself from stepping into her life, from saving myself in doing so... And... And... And...” This was where the risk came in, the possibility for reconciliation or the permanent severance of their friendship, or worst of all, the destruction of the thing he loved most in the world. “...And I think she could do the same for you...”

  Preston raised an eyebrow at him. “...What the hell are you talking about?”

  And Terry presented him with his indecent proposal...

  It didn't take much persuading to get Victoria to agree to what would prove to be a highly steamy arrangement.

  Terry and Preston had presented themselves to her in their transformed states, scaring her shitless the moment she stepped through the front door upon her return from the office, and then doubly so when the two snarling creatures transformed into two stark naked men, one of them her own boyfriend, one a complete stranger.

  And Terry laid out everything.

  He told her, in case it needed to be verbally spelled out at this point, that he was a werewolf, and that both he and Preston had been so since they were teenagers, infected as they'd been during a long ago camping trip.

  He told her how, at one point, that the full moon had been like a curse for him, stealing away all self control, turning him into the monster she'd seen before her, unable to contain himself or censor his own actions, and slave to the drive of primal instinct. He told her that he'd fallen in love with her the instant he'd laid eyes on her, and that her love had given the power he needed to remain in control, to live an actual life, and escape the living hell of going through life as a monster.