Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC #5)(65)
Sax even helped my lifting my hips. I heard him fumbling, I hoped displaying his cock for my pleasure. There was a big mirrored beer sign on one wall, and I could just see his beautiful, shapely white butt as it flexed impressively, preparing to penetrate me. First, he rubbed his fat cockhead against my * lips. I swear, my inner canal fluttered so heavily it nearly made me cramp. It was like there were internal arms reaching from my clit in a straight shot to my womb. Sax gripped and manipulated me by the hips but it was his tight, hot glans massaging my clit that had me nearly squealing with bliss.
“Do it, Sax! Fill me with that big, plump dick. I want to feel your semen spurting out my eyeballs.”
Maybe it was my badly-worded entreaty or maybe just the need to get off, but Sax penetrated me then. “Do what your father tells you to,” he snarled, the epitome of the big Daddy Dom. Although he tried to maintain supreme control, I could see in the beer mirror the tremor that ran through his haunches as he tried to hold himself still inside of me.
“I promise, daddy. I’ll be still. I can’t wait for your big fat horse cock to spurt inside me. But I’ll stay still.”
Slowly but surely, Sax built up a plunging rhythm. My eyes were riveted to the flexion of his ass in that stupid beer mirror. I’d never seen such beautiful, muscular haunches, especially reaming me dogstyle while I lay helpless flat on a pool table.
Gripping my hip in one hand, he pasted me down flat with the other on the back of my neck. “You’ll obey your father, you sweet little thing. Obey every word I say, or I’m going to seduce and defile you until you don’t know which end is up.”
“Oh, please do,” I gasped. “Please, Sir. Please do molest and defile me. It’s the only way I’ll ever learn.”
My begging seemed to set something off in him. I felt his hips tremble. The tremor shot through his dick that was nestled up against my womb. I clenched at it with my inner * walls, pleased with the result. He uttered a strangled sound and began pumping me harder, faster. I upped the ante by getting deeper into my role.
“Oh, please, please don’t stop! I want to be pounded by your big, thick penis, my Sir. I am your receptacle, waiting wide open for your load.” He didn’t need to press my face to the playing surface anymore. I was smashed there, permanently glued, reduced to a simple, submissive vessel for his overflowing virility.
I was happy to be there.
He was muttering, “You sweet little *. So innocent…you don’t know what you do to me.” Then he shot, a big, healthy load of jizz that jetted with force deep inside me.
He held himself like that for a long time, twitching and jerking, spurting more gushers. I milked his rod with my inner cunt, the muscles toned and strong after years of sessions with my battery-operated boyfriend.
We had never used rubbers, and we would never have to now. We could be utterly naked and intimate with each other. That was a new level of trust I’d never achieved with anyone else.
Tucking his fingers beneath the patchwork of ropes between my shoulder blades, Sax lifted me. I straightened myself up with trembling legs, not being used to holding myself up like that. He walked me to my stool and kissed me deeply, slowly, taking a lot of pleasure in the closeness, the twining of our tongues together.
“I love you, you sweet thing,” he murmured, half in and half out of the scene.
I was experiencing sub-drop too, my endorphins crashing after the intensity of our lovemaking. As if reading my feelings, Sax took a Snickers bar from a pocket in his cut. I took a few bites like a drunken person.
“I was so worried I’d hurt little Zelda.” Sax liked to call our unborn baby “Zelda.” I think he was only halfway joking, just because it was another name like Zane that began with a Z.
I said, “I’m pretty sure dogstyle is okay. But I’ll check with Maddy when she gets back from Greece.”
Then, as usual in that building, there was a clamoring of loud men at the door. “How do you even know how to play pool?” Wolf Glaser shouted at someone. “Unless it’s virtual, Wii pool played with a remote.”
To our surprise, Tobiah replied. “Oy gevalt! You goon! Just because I have a master’s in business doesn’t mean that every sport I play is Wii.”
“Oh yeah?” Wolf yelled goonishly. “Which sport? Competitive fishing?”
“Poker?” said someone with a thick French accent. Faux Pas.
“Masturbation?” suggested Wild Man.
“I’ll have you know,” said Tobiah. “I was considered a pretty fair curler in my high school days.”
“Get the f*ck out of my way,” said Duji. “I just want to play Mortal Kombat.” For there were a few computers in the game room, signaling the motorcycle club’s entrance into the modern, scientific age.
Sax sighed. “Let me get you out of these ropes.” Louder, he shouted at the door. “One minute.”
Every slip of the shiny rope across my skin was a sensitive screech and crash due to my endorphin drop. I hissed and sighed as Sax slithered the strands undone.
It struck me that The Citadel actually had some similarities to my old convent. It was a team of people all working toward a common goal. We had a code of conduct, rules and regulations that restricted our activities and urged us toward others. And there was an almost euphoric, divine sense of belonging to something that, collectively, was a higher power than the individual.