By J. Jenkins

Published By: J. Jenkins

Copyright © 2011 by J. Jenkins

Notes From The Author Thank you for downloading this free e-book. Please share it with your friends. This novel may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its original form. If you enjoyed this story, please consider reading works by other independent authors on sites such as, and This e-book is intended to be a blending of erotica and romance. The work is the product of my twisted imagination, and while some detailed locales and referenced material truly exist, main characters, and events are completely fictional. Please be advised that this book contains ‘Adult Reading Material’: graphic language and descriptions of sexual encounters between adult characters that some readers will find vulgar and offensive. Persons under the age of 18 and those of a conservative nature, please don’t venture beyond this page. Acknowledgements As always, I dedicate this story to everyone who gives the words and characters a chance to come alive in their imaginations. Thank you for investing your valuable time in downloading and reading my work. A special thanks is given to readers on who hung in with me on this unconventional story. Dedication To bad boys in disguise and the women who can’t help loving them.

J. J.

CHAPTER NINE With tender touches, I’ve loved Hannah for hours, wanting to delay the next part of my game. It could be detrimental and no matter how much I want her, I’ll leave Hannah if she fights against my will. Caressing her cheek, I then trail my fingers along the line of her face, down the curves of her body and a wave of desire crashes into me. I’ve been hard since I opened my eyes and found Hannah snuggled against my side. I’ve always wanted closeness with her. Even predators-in-disguise need the simple things in life, freedom to rise daily and do their girl missionary style. Cupping her breast, imaginings of Hannah beneath me, lustily taking my cock, fog my mind. To keep from making the vision real, I ease from around her and venture to the bathroom. In short time I return to swipe a damp cloth over her body, erasing traces of me from her face, smudges of Raven and Ramzi from her thighs. My pulse quickens, the dog in me sniffing the increasing aroma of his mate’s prime cut. Pressing my mouth to her nether lips, I tongue the folds, flick her clit. Her heartfelt moans stir my soul. I feel Boo lift her hips and hands that once pushed me away, pull me close. Resting my forehead against her mound, I resist a silent call to come on down. When the pre-game jitters subside, I wander back to the bathroom for a cold shower. My head is clearing, desire diminishing and I accept it’s her time to do or die. I tell myself she’s wanted what’s coming, except she hadn’t expected it to be real. Damn, why couldn’t she have been satisfied with what we had? Returning to Hannah’s side, I dress her in black lace, camouflaging temptation. Nuzzling her neck, I breathe in her scent, knowing this is what I want every morning. In order for that to happen, Hannah has to accept my rule. If she advances through the closing play, where I’ll strip away the last of her innocence, Boo’s eyes will be opened wide to Jhumar Castiglione and I won’t be a better man standing before her. I’ll show her I’ve always been what she’s fantasized about. Hannah just has to prove her loyalty. I’d like to say Boo has my confidence, but I can’t. She can be cold as ice and quick to anger. I haven’t forgotten her threats and this weekend, I’ll have given her a grip of reasons to blow me away. Hannah’s been asking the kittens about us, my business and of course, the Cuban. By now, she probably believes he’s buried somewhere. If she were mad enough, I’m sure she’d tell anyone who’d listen what she thinks she knows. But I’m holding my breath and hedging my bets that I’ve played her right. Days ago, she was on top of the world, now she’s been stripped of her possessions and livelihood, exposed to things that probably should’ve remained between the covers of the erotica she reads. I’d thought it would’ve all culminated last night, had envisioned her overwhelmed and crying for reality. But she’d been gung-ho to receive her triad of vamprotic love bites. That’s why I need her: Boo doesn’t easily back down and even though she can’t physically stand toe-to-toe with the kittens, see can pussy-whip a dawg until he’s begging for a head shot. I can’t be that stupid. Hannah has to cleave to my rule. So in order to end the fantasy play, I’m determined to make her world bottom out. Boo’s hard-heart has to break. Rolling on my back, I pull her atop my chest. Gathering her hair into a ponytail, I then close my arms across her back. I nibble along her jawline, moving on to her lips, where I sigh, “Boo, there’s a call for you.” Hannah wriggles, before sitting bolt upright. I lock my fingers with hers, keeping her in place. She blinks at me, a blush staining her cheeks. “I must look a mess,” she cries, trying to tug her hands away. Tightening my fingers around hers, I demand, “Look at me.” When she does, I slowly pull her lips to mine. I love it, love her. But, I need certainty and will keep moving the pieces until only one play remains.

Releasing her hands, I use one of mine to hold her head in place, our tongues mating. With the other, I search on the nightstand for the phone, push a single button and initiate the round. “She’s right here,” I mumble between kisses, then place it to her ear. “Hello?” her voice is hesitant. I resume smooching; knowing one of my accountants is bending her ear about the Beverly Hills accounts. If that’s not enough to piss her off, I noisily rip the bra and panties from her body. She squeaks in protest and I haul her to my chest, stroking my palms over her back and hips. She squirms atop my hardness, trying to maintain control. Hannah’s listening intently to the number cruncher and I start massaging her ass, fingering the tight rosette. She gives me a pleading look, shifting her hips, buttocks tensing and tightening, trying to get me to stop my invasion. “Yeah, shake that rump,” I tease laughingly and to heighten her frustration, I rock my boner against her slit. Boo’s dripping wet despite the earful of grief she’s getting. “Yes, I made the purchases, but he established the accounts,” she clarifies, all businesslike. That’ll never do. I bite her shoulder, cup and knead the halves of her peach. Moving my hips in tight circles against her mound, I stir her up, trying to ignite her fury. “You want me to lick your clit, while you suck Mr. Harden Happy.” Hannah caresses my cheek, mouthing a silent promise to take care of me later. That’s not what I’m after. So I keep trash talking and rough rubbing. But, Boo ain’t phased. She puts her hand over the phone saying casually, “Shush Jhumar.” Dissatisfied with her response, I begin hammering my erection against her entry, battering, poking and pounding, wanting to break her down. In order to do that I think I’m gonna have to jump the border down south. So I push- push- and nothing-- Nada! Damn, she’s tightened up, shutting me out. Hell, Hannah doesn’t know whose she’s playing with. I pull back and for a heartbeat, and another, and another, I wait. When I feel her relieved smile, I unleash Rambo Ramrod, sending him burrowing beneath her hedge. She attempts to resist his bushwhacking, wild man maneuvers, her hips frantically jerking away, but suddenly-I’m in. Yes-, I’m inside her. Hannah’s instincts take over and she’s rock, rock, rockin- “That’s right, give it to me. Let him hear the music your boom-box plays.” I slap, slap, slap into her, knowing the accountant is already getting an earful, but I need Hannah to give herself away. “Come on Boo, make some noise,” I demand, while circling her copper penny. “Oh- Oh-,” she huffs and the accountant obviously questions her behavior because she stammers, “I’m- I’mgetting a cold.” Bad- Bad- bad-ass Boo, that’ll never do. I push my fingertip into her ring and she cries out, “Oh God, Oh God. Oh-no sir, I’m alright, just shocked.” I flex my hips, buttocks clenched tight. My dick-tator’s buried deep and I hold the motion, my body pressed into hers. To keep chipping away at Hannah’s control, I pull her head down and speak into her ear, “Some men like their women stretched, but I want you nice and tight. Imagine what it’ll feel like as I pry you open for the very first time.”

Hanna’s breathing goes loco- locomotive: puff, puff, puffin, but still holding back, so I bury my finger in her backyard and set Willie to frolickin’ in the front. Boo bellows, “Damn it, J.C., damn it,” then clamps her palm over her mouth to hold back her cries. She’s being pounded in the front, poked in the rear and since she refuses to do more than bite her tongue, I blow hotly in her ear. But shit--, her noose starts choking Willie tight, and stars shoot behind my eyes. Smiling victoriously, Hannah keeps paying attention to the caller, but her body is tensing, her sex smell increasing and I keep on cultivating her fields. But she just continues talking away, “Well-- Well, I’ve never heard of any such arrangement. Oh. I didn’t ask him to open the accounts. Uh oh, oh. Nope-- Oh, oh no sir. I didn’t sign an agreement, at least not that I fuck-, fuckin’ remember, but if you have a copy then, oh damn, I must have. Stop? No, I don’t need you to stop, go on and keep fucking- Oh, oh sorry, I meant keep talking.” Boo’s a warrior, but she’s gotta loose. I throw in some house party, hip action: push, pull, slow grind, push, pull, slow grind, push, pull, slow grind, until Boo’s gritting her teeth. “If you say I need to assume the payments I will. I won’t argue. How much are you talking about?” Her hips haven’t once stopped gyrating and she’s drowning me in a river of hot cream. Wanting to throw some more embarrassment in her face, along with the humiliation of listening to the accountant telling her, thanks to me, she’s buried under a mountain of debt, I pump, pump, pump into her and holler out, “Oh Boo, your mop is so wet. Hang up. You can have phone sex with that guy some other time. I wanna fuck you now and I wanna fuck you fast.” That does it. She pinches my nipple so hard my balls nearly lift up around my navel and Willie starts jumping. She twists my aching bud again and I know she’s headed for pissy-town. “J. C., will you please hold on,” she grinds out, the sound full of pent-up frustration, but still no nut crushing nastiness and the smell of her arousal is so strong it fills my mouth. Boo wants to throw the phone down, but not to clobber me. Hannah wipes sweat from her brow and keeps playing my game, while corkscrewing her cunny. “Mid sixfigures-- Well… That’s far more than I have,” she admits coolly. I pull out of her flooding harbor and rub Willie’s tip between her folds, push in, pull out, push in, pull out, then slam him home and goddamn she moans so loud the vibrations assault my spine. “Boo. Hang up. I’m wanna come and I’ll be damned if I’ll have you whispering in another man’s ear when I do.” I yank the receiver from her hand and say, “Hey Jordan, I’ll pay-” “No,” she yells, snatching the phone back, breathing as if she’s running a marathon. ‘“Mr. Jordan-- Oh, excuse me, I mean Mr. Anderson. I’ll make payments. Just draw up a schedule. Have the papers delivered to the condo early tomorrow. I’ll sign and return them.” Oh Hannah, Hannah, hump-me-hard Hannah, what will it take? Perhaps a little modified Afroman. I sing out loudly, “I was gonna make love to you, but I answered the phone. I was gonna eat yo pussy too, but I answered the phone. But I ain’t gonna be jackin’ off.” I pinch her nipple, grinding against her and she makes a muffled cry. I pump faster, grip her hips, working her with me, then I lick her hickey and she shudders. ‘Hell yeah!’ I silently shout. Score a mighty ‘O’ for me. Her clam keeps clenching, but she’s still handling her business. Only her halting voice gives her away, “Oh, um… I’ll be staying with my- um- mother temporarily,” she informs Jordan, her free hand sliding between us to stroke my balls.

Screw this shit, I’ve got better game in store for Boo. Snatching the phone, I bark orders into the receiver, and then toss it aside. I roll her beneath me, pinning her wrists over her head and pound her, pound her, motherfuckin’ pound her and all the while, she’s looking adoringly into my eyes. She wants me-, me-, former doormat, nut-less wonder, that’s ruining her bit-by-bit. Hannah’s not faking it either. The feral stench of ruthless power has her intoxicated. “Hannah are you through wasting time, cause I’m ready to drill a hole in your vault?” To test my claim she rocks her pelvis against me, moans and locks her legs around my hips. I jump inside her, trained Willie doing his tricks. She laughs. “J. C., you’re a real sweet-talker. Come on, make love to me.” She nips at my lower lip, inviting me to play. I want to give in. Just like that, my woman nearly slays me, but I can’t fall, not now, not yet. Entwining my fingers in her hair, I pull her head back, giving myself breathing room. Her eyes are dreamy, but not for long. “Say you want me to screw you, but don’t ask for something you never cared about.” She circles my nipple with her fingertip, her hips mimicking the motion. “I don’t understand,” her voice is hoarse with emotion. Pushing down the desires I’ve always had: to care for and pleasure her, I coldly respond, “For three years I gave you my heart, everything a good guy should. I’m not offering it anymore. I can give you sex, maybe through tonight, after that, I’m not even sure I’ll see you again.” I release her hair, feel her hips go still, but her chest is heaving. “You said I’d like the last part of my fantasy, told me not to move away, that you’d ruin any man I married. When you said those things-- Well… I thought we’d be together, not exclusively, because of Raven, Amy and that blond that’s always watching your back, keeping guard, standing between us,” she finishes on a strangled note, staring at me in horror. “J. C, who is she?” Yeah, my main kitten, the fog is clearing from Hannah’s eyes but some remains. I need to strip even that away, if the ball is to stay in play. “Christa’s my wife Hannah.” I wait for the splintering, the heartbreak. It doesn’t come. She narrows her eyes. “I don’t believe you. She and the others are employees-” “Enforcers, Hannah. Women I absolutely trust with my life. Ask her, she’s right next door.” “Yeah, well- you had me believing Raven and Ramzi were vampires last night and in the light of day we both know they aren’t.” She sits up, spreads her legs, giving me a mind-blowing view of her jewel box and examines her inner thighs, pointing at the unblemished skin. “Reddened, but no punctures. Hollywood has gone to your head Jhumar.” She snaps her legs shut and stares at me. I recline against the pillows, looking bored, except for my transfixed, unruly, one-eyed team member. “And your point is?” “You can make anything seem real. But, if it makes you happy, I’ll play your game, tolerate having them around, especially Christa since she’s so important to you.” “Can you Hannah?”

“Sure. You need them for whatever it is you have going on. I won’t interfere.” “What do you think’s going on?” She tosses her hands up. “I don’t care. As long as we’re together.” “No Hannah.” “Why are you being a beast? Is it because I slept around? Gave your gifts away? I’m sorry. Let me show you we belong together.” I fold my arms across my chest, staring at her. “Alright. Say Christa’s my wife.” Her hands clench. “No way.” “Then I’ll have Ramzi drive you to the airport.” Patches of red mark her cheeks and tendons stand out in her neck. “Okay, her name is Christa and she’s your wife.” “Wrong. Say it Hannah.” “Mrs. Christa Castiglione,” she gags out. “And you want to sleep with her.” At the thought of them together, I stroke Willie, letting Hannah see my increasing excitement. “You’re a down and dirty dog Jhumar. Sleep with her! You want me to sleep with her! I’ve already had a taste of big bazoom- bas,” she finishes on a hiss because my raised eyebrow and fierce look dare her to continue. “No, not the way I want. You need to love her.” Boo puckers her lips as if she’s just swallowed spoilt milk. “For God’s sakes.” Oh, that ain’t all Ms. Hardcastle… “Then you’ll watch me fuck her.” Hannah goes as white, as white can get, her pupils dilating, swaying like a flag blowing in the hot Santa Anas. With visible difficulty, she steadies herself, her hand pressed to her forehead. “What the hell for?” her voice is so high; the hairs on my neck stand up. I dismissively rake her up-and-down with my gaze. “You wanna go to the airport?” A muscle in her jaw spasms. “What I meant is-- Am I supposed pay attention to anything in particular?” “The commitment. If I’m going to reconsider not ever seeing you again-” “Not ever,” her voice is full of mist. She turns away, her sight coming directly in line with my Glock that’s on the nightstand, her chance to be ejected from the game. “I need to know you won’t throw a fit when I’m with her,” I state, setting up the shot. Wiping her eyes, Hannah reaches for the loaded gun and I hope she’ll do the right thing. Boo grips the barrel and passes the gun to me. “Put it away Jhumar. You should know better.” I take the gun and place it on my nightstand, still within her reach. She rolls her eyes and flicks her wrist.

“Don’t try changing the subject. What’s it gonna be Boo?” My look is ravenous, one I reserve for people who fully test my nerves, right before I devour them. Hannah’s attitude better head for the hills. There’s a charged moment of silence between us, then she blurts out, “Alright, I’ll do her.” “Just like that.” “Yep. Easy peasy,” she declares, straddling my lap, resting her palms on my shoulders. I watch as her lips move closer to mine, until only our noses keep us apart and she taunts me, “You can’t get it up for her. Remember, I’ve seen the two of you together.” She grabs Willie, pats his head and I can’t hold back my moan. “I own you, married or not. And keep on making my life miserable, I’ll only be stronger in the end.” I grip her waist; feel unbearable pressure in Old Jim Dog, my hunger and thirst increasing. But, I keep my main head in the game. “How do you figure that Hannah?” She places her palm in the center of my chest, caressing my skin, while she looks into my eyes and shit-- my heartbeat accelerates, then skips time. Boo smiles, leans in, licking my stubbly jaw, murmuring, “I hung in with you for three years, waiting for you to figure out how to satisfy me. Now you have. This J. C., the one I didn’t believe existed, the one I feared ever falling prey to, makes my clit diamond hard, gives me pleasure I only ever fantasized about, looks into the darkest parts of me and doesn’t turn away. I won’t let you go, not because of your ‘business’, the kittens, Christa- your ‘wife’ or the Cuban.” I push her off me, get from the bed and stand looking down on her, “It’s not for you to decide.” For all her big talk, Hannah gets to her feet, looking shaky and uncertain. She strides to the connecting door of Christa’s suite and she rests her forehead against the wood. I see her shoulders shaking, and then hear low sounds of her sobs. Still I won’t stop. “Don’t go crying wolf again Hannah. My nose is still hurting from the last time.” Her weeping increases and Willie’s whining for me to weaken. Instead, I yell at her, “Well what are you waiting for? It’s your move.” Christa picks this moment to open the door and Hannah falls into her embrace, burying her face in the cleavage of cushiony mounds. Boo wraps her arms around Christa, wailing so loud my kitten strokes her back and gives me a reproachful look. “Hush honey, hush,” she soothes. I won’t be played. Picking up the phone, I dial Ramzi. “Get the car ready.” “No,” Hannah shrieks, “No.” Leaving comforting arms, she charges me, grabs the phone and hurls it at the wall. Face tear streaked, she runs back, taking Christa’s hands, she speaks in a shaky voice, “He finally told me you’re married, but I can’t live without him. Please let me stay. I’ll do whatever you ask.” Christa squeezes Hannah’s hands. “Just prove yourself.” Boo looks into Christa’s eyes and I feel zinging sparks of magnified attraction that I’d felt the first day we’d met. Head moving forward, her gaze is focused on kitten’s ravishing red lips as my blonde mirrors her motions. Abruptly, Hannah stops. Spellbound, my kitten keeps going, lured in, drowning in eyes of deep sea-blue. Boo’s trembling fingers caress Christa’s face, then slide into a golden cascade of hair, holding kitten close. Their lips meet, sliding sensuously, whimpers coming from their throats and Hannah makes her play. She back steps them to the bed where she falls, taking my blonde down on top of her. Their lips never part, legs

entwining, snatches rubbing. My redhead’s hands glide over Christa’s body, down to the lethal curves of an ass that could make a blind man see. She rests one hand there, squeezing and massaging the smooth skin, while the other journeys down between kitten’s thighs. Hannah’s fingers rapidly polish kitten’s pearl. The scene calls to me and I join them for a better view. Hannah wraps her legs around Christa’s hips, pulling her closer, as they continue swaying together, teetering on the brink. Kitten releases pink lips and lowers her mouth to suck one golden-coral nipple into her mouth, then the other. She palms and presses ivory-pillows, while biting and pulling on the buttons of flesh, until Boo shudders and cries, “Oh Christa, oh, oh.” “That’s right Hannah, that’s right,” Christa says, recapturing that pale rose mouth, while rolling back and lifting Boo above her. She bites and sucks Hannah’s lips as Boo rests astride her hips, rubbing and coiling her mound atop Kitten’s pussy. Christa grips her playmate’s pearlescent pillows, massaging and squeezing them together. “Keep touching me, please don’t stop,” Boo begs, falling forward and burying her face in Kitten’s bountiful breasts. Their hips turn and twist, breathing increasing, low cries and sex scent permeating the air. “You’re cotton candy, soft and sweet,” Hannah professes as she slides down Christa’s torso, leaving kisses along the golden path of her journey. At Kitten’s navel, she circles the indention. “That’s so good, but lower honey, a little lower,” Christa urges, spreading her legs, pushing Boo’s head toward her valley. Hannah bites kisses down to the mound, nipping and pulling at swollen lips. She groans, spreading the labia, to lap and lick the juicy sugar bush. My beautiful blond disintegrates, throwing her head back, her hands clutching Hannah’s hair. “Keep licking me, lick it good. Ah, so fuckin’ good.” Boo increases the speed of her mouth and forcefully inserts two fingers into the brimming pleasure pot. She starts rapidly sliding her fingers in-and-out. Christa holds Boo’s head closer, rocking her center into tongue strokes and finger pokes. From the look of pleasure on Christa’s face, I know her tension is building again. She’s biting her lower lip, her eyelids fluttering, ‘bout ready to blow. Hannah puts another finger in the play, her mouth and tongue voraciously eating away. The cunt sucking and mouth smacking are frenzied and frantic. She jackhammers Christa’s lowland, while moving her head in intricate patterns. The sounds of Boo’s sucking increase. Christa pants and moans, hips rising-and-falling as she rides waves of desire. A fourth finger plunges into the depths of her sex sea. Like synchronized swimmers, the combine digits immediately begin a stylized routine, turning round-and-round, as Boo’s red-head keeps bob, bob, bobbin’ along, tugging that little man in the boat further adrift on the turbulent waters of Christa’s passion. To give Hannah better access to her prized jewel, Christa raises her legs over her head and grasps her ankles. Hannah whaps, whaps, whaps an exposed buttock, while finger fucking and clit sucking. Christa bucks her hips and chants, “Oh, oh, oh Hannah,” and in response, Boo works her fist into Kitten’s bearded mitten, shaking her head, back-and-forth, tormenting Christa’s bud. My main Kitten arches her back and screams out, “Yes, yes, yes J. C., yes.” Hannah withdraws her fingers, placing tiny kisses atop the golden-mound and along the inside of beautifully rounded thighs. Gradually, Christa’s tremors cease. “I’m going to give you more, sweet pussy, so much more,” Boo promises, climbing on top and scissoring their hips so they’re clit-to-clit. They scratch and strike match heads, like they want to set fire to the world. Their motions are fevered and fierce, shaking the bed and knocking nearby objects to the floor.

Hannah’s bouncing while kitten grips her hips, palms her peach and slings her head from side-to-side. Suddenly, Christa bucks wildly, then goes rigid, shouting out her satisfaction and need for more. Boo serves it up, leaning down and sucking a big nipple into her mouth. Their hips are still moving, the actions blurring until they ‘oh, oh, oh yeah’, in sweet agony, dying a little death together and Hannah slides forward, kissing Christa mindlessly. It’s my time to enter the game. I climb behind Boo, lift her up and position her knees on each side of Kitten’s hips. “Hannah, you know what happens now. Look at Christa, into her eyes.” Immediately Hannah stiffens and I instruct my blonde, “Tell me the first time she looks away and I’ll have her taken to McCarran.” “Sure baby,” kitty-cat purrs. I nudge Boo’s shoulder. “Understand Hannah?” She nods silently and even though I have her on the ropes, I keep pounding away. “Answer me.” “Yes,” she croaks. From over Hannah’s shoulder, I see Christa reassuringly rubbing Boo’s thighs and I steel myself mentally, of course, Willie doesn’t need any more hardening. “Good. Now reach back and touch my key so you know it’s me sliding into my wife’s padlock and not a Hollywood double.” Her hand shakes when it contacts Willie and he jumps into her palm, like a long kenneled pet just reunited with his master. To show them who’s in control I demand, “Put it in her Boo.” Her fingers tremble, but she guides the big-mushroomed tip into Christa’s grove and I groan out, “You’re steaming, so ready. Hannah, move your hand, so I can get busy.” She does and I slam my engorged shaft in up to the hilt, balls slapping. I slide back and forth, corkscrewing, drawing figure eights and leapfrogging into her depth, breathing hot breaths on Hannah’s back, until my heart feels ready to jump from my chest. “So tight, so fuckin’ tight,” I pant loudly, rammin’, rammin, ramming into her ravine. Hannah sits rod straight but I can tell by the look on Christa’s face that Boo’s doing what I told her. She’s looking into my kitten’s eyes, seeing absolute devotion and I feel her hand sneak back to caress my thigh before she grasps my fingers, taking them to entwine with hers and Christa’s on the bed. I pound into my kitten and hear her murmurs, sounds of approaching release. “Go on kitty-cat, go on.” My thrusts are short-and-quick, long-and-slow, short-and-quick. Then I grind and grind and grind as she cries, “Yeah, give me that big cock, give it to me.” Her hips rotate with mine, our combined undulations shifting Hannah forward, her free hand bracing her fall as she covers Christa’s chest with her own. She’s face-to-face with my golden girl who audibly whispers, “So fucking hot. Come on and love me.” Boo doesn’t respond but I see her head dip and she takes the kitten’s lips in a kiss that has Christa making vibrating sounds in her throat. Our three hands are still united, mine sandwiched between theirs, fingers clenching, as the sexual tension climbs. I keep thrusting, aiming for the winner’s circle. Christa’s central heating increases, searing my sausage and the muscles tense throughout my body, nerves feeling raw. Boo’s distinctive scent of arousal heightens, as her mouth keeps moving and kissing. The throbbing of the walls that surround me intensifies, squeezing and titillating Willie. My balls lift and the base of my cock tightens. Yeah, oh yeah, I’m ready to bust both nuts. Boo’s promised land is in my sights, urging me on. That puckered place I’d soon claim, winks at me from

between her spread cheeks as she continues tongue fucking Christa’s mouth. The sounds of their ongoing wet kisses completely unleash me. Quick-time, quick-time, quick, quick, quick-time, I ram into the rhythmically contracting accordion. Throwing my head back, I flex my hips into the apex of my sex kitten’s thighs, my jizz shooting forth as I grind, grind, spiral-on down. Christa and Boo’s hands crush mine as they cry, “J. C., J. C., oh, oh, oh.” Extricating my hand from theirs, I pull out, smack Hannah on the ass and fall back beside my kitten, drawing her face to mine for a long, lusty, kiss that makes the lip exchange she’d shared with Hannah look like child’s play. Stroking and cupping her massive cherry-topped cupcakes, I deliberately ignore Boo, but from the corner of my eye, I see her stand and walk towards the bathroom. Just as she’s crossing the threshold I holler out, “Hurry and clean up, then meet us downstairs. I’m gonna make breakfast.” Boo silently walks on, closing the door behind her. Hand-in-hand, Christa and I hurry to her shower. We only have a little time to get in place with the others for Boo’s next-to-last bout. With all the ‘oh, oh, oh-ing’ she’s just done, I hope she doesn’t collapse, or worse even, choke at this late stage in the game.

Well-, I’ve taken my time getting ready, am working on my fifth whisky and soda. Hell, I’m not racing to the finish, instead I’m dragging my ass down eclectically decorated hallways that will eventually lead me to Jhumar. This weekend and our relationship are all but over. Although I’ll accept his triumph, I don’t have to like it. I want to be with him always. But I fear I’ve forfeited that right. J. C. has done a lot to regain the power and self-respect he’d given up with me. Everything he’s done this weekend has been to show me he’s packing a set of brass balls and a rod of steel. Yet, for years he’d granted me the dominate role in our relationship and I’d screwed up. He’d needed me to make him feel secure and validated, like he does with his pillowy bosomed, sweet-cum tasting wife. In her embrace, I’d glimpsed paradise. Now I’m lusting after them both. I long to have my nose rubbing against her clit, sniffing her ambrosia while J. C. grips my hips and pounds my pussy. I’d wanted to stay with them, but he’d held her and sent me away. I’m such a loser. When he’d offered me the Messalina fantasy, I should have steadfastly refused and maybe things would be going my way. Instead, I’d acted out, causing his beastly nature to come forth. Before he’d respected me, alterego or not. Even without my love, he’d cared for me. Damn it! I hope he’ll see me in the future. But I don’t know. I stop walking and press my forehead to the wall, taking a moment to calm my fears. Why hadn’t I accepted and treasured his love? Now, given the chance, I’d be his and Christa’s bed-buddy, their doormat even. The wall supports me, but I wish for Jhumar’s arms. I bet he’s holding Christa right now, kissing her, loving her, maybe sucking her delicious nipples. Reluctantly I continue my journey but I’ll bravely face my opponents. I don’t want the tender part of J. C. to pity me. It’s the other side of him that I must submit to if we’re to end on friendly terms. When I’d left him in bed with Christa, I’d seen that unyielding side of him and knew he was prepared to throw me away. I continue down the hall and eventually reach a door that’s standing ajar. Amy’s here, wearing a blue mini dress, kneeling on the platform bed, in this Zen inspired suite. Positioned in the air, her heart-shaped ass blocks the upper body of the naked man beneath her. But I have a clear view of the one at her side. He’s beyond handsome, carmel-coated, black and white Dior covering his running-back physique. He’s watching the couple beside him, occasionally murmuring to the other man and Amy. He reminds me of J. C. in looks and unreadability. My eyes narrow... There’s something tangible between Dior guy and Amy. The same energy permeates the mansion’s atmosphere. It’s commitment- like the devotion existing between Raven and Ramzi, J. C. and Christa, the feelings all of them share for one another. Sensing my presence, he looks straight at me raising an eyebrow. I withstand his scrutiny, facing the fact that he’s related to Jhumar. I shift my gaze away from him to the man beneath Amy. It’s the Cuban having his mini piccolo played, repeatedly sighing out, “Amy, sweet Amy, deliver me.” He’s different, clean, sweet and tender.

Taking another gulp of whiskey, the ice clinks, causing Amy and the Cuban to look my way. The other guy continues considering me. Amy releases Mateo from her mouth and comes over. “What’s the matter with you?” She appraises my appearance and the near finished drink. I hiccup and sniff. “J. C. told me he and Christa are married.” Amy doesn’t say a word. But as Dior guy joins us, she pulls the tumbler from my grip and passes him the glass. “Give that back,” I demand, but stand fast, watching her guy place the drink aside. “What have you done?” She stares at my hair. Self-consciously, I pat my new do and mumble, “I cut it.” A smile tugs at her lips. “You look like Rod Stewart and Tina Turner’s 80’s love child. And isn’t that Jhumar’s blue-gingham shirt?” “Yes.” Feeling pathetic, I look beyond this duo. “What’s Mateo doing here?” Amy’s answer is a sexy moan. I glance back and see her rubbing her bottom against Mr. Designer Wear, while his hands massage her breasts. I roll my eyes. He rolls her nipple and nuzzles her neck. I wait… and wait… and-- wait… Yeah well… I try again. “The Cuban, why’s he here?” J. C. hates the guy, so how is it that he gets to have Amy suck his dick, while he’s sporting a shit-eating grin suggesting he’s been having a damn good time? Jhumar Castiglione unleashed isn’t nice. This can’t be the Cuban’s end. Amy’s answer interrupts my thoughts. “It’s none of your business. Use your time to decide what J. C means to you.” I let her see the truth in my eyes and mumble, “I already know.” “Then tell him.” Looking away, I mutter, “I’ve really hurt him and now he’s breaking my heart.” She pokes me in the chest. “For years, none of us thought you had one. Now, Ryck will help you to the entryway.” Unable to stop myself, I ask, “How long have you two been married?” “The only people you should be concerned with are J. C. and Christa,” she says frustratedly. I feel Ryck guiding me away and recoil from his touch. “I’ll be fine.” Kitchen bound, I make it downstairs without breaking my neck, and teeter-totter across the Spanish tiled foyer, until I’m disturbed by the sounds of Buzz! Bam! Buzz! Geez-us! Some loon is making a ruckus at the front door. I keep walking. Surely, J. C. or Christa will handle

the issue. Bam! Buzz! Bam! Shit! I stop near a towering, potted cactus and grit my teeth. Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Alrighty then! I whirl around, the noise pissing me off and sobering me up. Bam! Bam! Bam! Damn it! I’ll take care of this problem. Armed with a ‘go fuck yourself’ attitude, I stomp to the entrance and fling open the door. Two swarthy, custom-suited, meatheads are standing there. I glare at them and snap, “What do you want?” My hostility makes them step back, but the taller, gray-clad man speaks up, “We’re with the Las Vegas Police. Can we-” “Yeah and I’m Mary Friggin’ Poppins. Cut the bull.” I’ve got one hand on the doorknob and the other on my hip. Gray-suit gives me a scorching look. He’s already fired-up. I can see the outline of his erection beneath the front of his slacks. Typical, he wants to fuck me, thinks he can take me on and win. Not even. I can pussy-whip these guys from a comatose state. Hell, I’ve already given one a boner and all I did was open the door. Judging by the rising tent in his companion’s trousers, they’ll both be cunt-crazed roadkill if they give me a reason. Gray-suit smiles, nodding to his partner. “We’re looking for someone: early thirties, muscular, dark hair and eyes, speaks with a heavy, Latin accent. He was supposed to attend a party here the other night. No one’s heard from him since.” The Cuban. Well-- this is a problem. Practiced boredom settles on my face. “And you thought pretending to be with local authorities would somehow make him materialize. Ha! Not only are you rude; you’re also stupid. Officers of the Law, at least the ones not wanting to invite an I. A. investigation, don’t wear four-thousand dollar watches and handmade loafers. How ‘bout showing me some I.D.?” They give me a malevolent look and I give them an eyeful. Lifting the hem of my shirt, I flash them my newly etched red badge of cuntdom. Their eyes pop. “Sweet mother,” they exclaim. “You see,” I purr, “If I came hammering on your door, at least I’d have my credentials ready. What do the two of you have?” Challengingly, I stare at their crotches, “Out with ’em, or hit the road.” Grey-suit scowls. “Watch yourself. Like whoever has our boss, you too can be on the take-out menu.” “Ooh, scary.” I give a mock shake of fright, then giggle like a high school cheerleader. Their dicks get harder, guaranteeing that if anything gets taken out, it won’t be me. “Yeah, and guys who kill my buzz have to pay a price: all the cum I can stand. But so you’ll know, I’m here with my soon-to-be ex and his wife, no one else.”

“We’d like to speak with them,” olive-suit demands. I jut out my chin and say, “They have nothing different to tell you. Piss off and don’t bang on this door again.” The taller man advances on me, but his friend grabs his arm saying, “You know what-” “Yeah, I do. This isn’t the freakin’ missing persons unit.” I smack my palm on the door. “Listen! This morning my lover told me he’s married, then talked me into having sex with him and his wife. So pardon me if I don’t give a sweet-smellin’ shit about your friend.” “Mind yourself,” they warn. I make a Z-motion, signaling them to zip their lips. “Did I come to your door with my problems?” They look more irritated than contrite. “Well no. You don’t know us.” I snap my fingers. “Damn straight. And you don’t know me and I don’t know who you’re looking for, nor do I give a cat’s pecker!” “Gosh, your mouth is big,” gray-suit declares, but he and his buddy are still hoping to nail me. My smile broadens. “Yeah well… your mouth is pretty big too.” I nibble my lower lip, watching gray-suit’s pupils dilate, his dick twitching. Olive-suit is in the same senseless state. I move in for the kill. “Have y’all had breakfast? My ex swears my pussy tastes like coconut. How ‘bout going down to my grove for some delectably edible white meat?” Tall guy emits an excited sound. “You don’t understand the position you’re in.” Ah-ha-ha-ha! Gosh, he’s funny. “I don’t care what position you want me to assume. I’m callin’ the shots and my playbook has you on your knees with your face buried in my bush.” Tall, dark and horny gives me a blistering stare. “The man we’re looking for heads an important family.” I give a loud yawn. “As in cartel, judging by the two of you.” Olive-suit scowls. “And by the look of you, I could say you’re a whore, but I haven’t.” Shucks, I’m liking these guys. “Ah, but you just did. And to that, I’ve gotta request you blow me while I jack off your friend.” They sputter like I’m demanding access to their offshore bank accounts. “Come on, make my day.” I unbutton my shirt and expose my breasts. “Finding out about my lover has made me see that I’ve got something to prove and what better way to send a message than by doing the two of you.” “Is the ‘J. C.’ cut into your landing strip, your boyfriend’s initials?” olive-suit asks, looking ravenous and not for crème de coco. I think he knows the Jhumar Castiglione hype and is putting the pieces together. His eyes fill with bloodlust and I understand why J. C. insists vampires exist. In response, I shake my head. “It stands for ‘Juicy Cunt’, my new business marquee. But since I’m not officially open, y’all will have to settle for a little blow and stroke.” A look passes between them, then the shorter one, eyes gleaming says, “You’re nasty and we like it.” I give him a saucy wink. “Good. Let’s do it out front. I wanna feel the sun on my ass while your buddy licks my pussy and I pump a year’s worth of cum from your cock.”

“Hell yeah,” they exclaim. Holding up my palm, I halt their premature celebration. “There’s just one thing…” I pull off Jhumar’s shirt and toss it backwards to stand naked before them. “The only firearms allowed near me are the ones you came into the world with.” “We’re not carrying,” they claim, staring at my body as I balance on my ‘come and get it’ pumps. Laughter springs from my chest. “You’re the worse liars. Guns please.” I reach down and trace the initials decorating my mound, swaying my hips and licking my lips. “Baby, aw baby,” gray-suit shouts. I insert two fingers into my cream-pot, further churning their lust-, extending an upturned palm, I wait. They give them up, then walk away. I place all except the smallest weapon on a nearby table, kick off my shoes and sashay to the door. As I’m poised to step outside, from my right Ryck glides into my path, from the left Ramzi comes into view and from the rear J. C. presses up against my back. His hand slides down my side, taking the gun from my grip. “I bet you’ve been missing me,” he says against my ear. I quiver, whispering, “Oh yes,” an orgasm dampening my thighs. Between the human pillars of Ramzi and Ryck, out in the distance I see the kittens with the gray and olive suited men. They’re trying to hand over a smiling Mateo, who’s hanging on to Amy like a lovesick octopus. Finally, Amy gets free and the Cuban is hustled into a waiting car that speeds off. Well-, I’ve been played again and J. C. keeps toying with me, his free hand sliding between my thighs, fingers separating my folds. His Scottish teammate presses up against me, hands cradling my face, tongue swishing across my lips. Doing his part, Jhumar fingers my cleft, commanding, “Boo open up.” Pressing my palms against his denim covered thighs, I do his bidding, taking Ramzi’s spearmint tasting tongue into my mouth just as J. C. pushes entwined fingers into me, sliding in, twisting, sliding out, twisting and sweet sangria, he pops my cork, warm cream flowing from my cunt. I throw back my head at the sensation and stare into black eyes that demand obedience. “No, I can’t,” I protest. Ramzi withdraws from my mouth and threatens, “You better,” then thrusts his tongue back in. I want to resist, but think a slight concession might be an easier out. So against his lips, I admit their triumph at this, and the Scots’ kiss transforms into one of tenderness. But, J. C. grows fierce, finger fucking my cunt while dry humpin’ my rump and my whimpers only incite his temper. Damn it, I’m feeling so screwed, and not entirely in a good way. Ramzi gives me one last kiss, then he moves aside. Ryck steps up to me and Amy’s designer guy strokes my breasts. I press my tits into Ryck’s palms and feel J. C. ram his roped fingers home. “Hannah, give it up,” he insists. And I do, cum gushing from my cunny. “That’s right Boo, no more holding back. And so you know who all you’re playin’ with-, this is my brother, Dr. Ryck.” With that announcement made, J. C. withdraws his Italian corkscrew from my cunt, then slams it back

in, spiraling and spinning. I spread my legs, taking the pleasure and the pain, wanting all he can give. As if reading my mind, Ryck smiles knowingly, and Jhumar keeps demonstrating his mastery. But I don’t want to be defeated. So praying Jhumar still feels something genuine and gentle for me, I say, “You’re too sweet to throw me away.” My ballsy statement makes him push and shove harder, the pressure in my pussy building. “Don’t do this,” I beg. But he shoves-, shoves-, shoves, until the words he wants burst forth, “Oh shit!, I can’t live without you,” and with that said, I’m awash with warmth, Ryck’s methodical, smoky power, making me see that J. C. has only ever been so giving with me. ‘Well Hannah, that’s long overdue,’ Ryck’s words vibrate within me, though he physically doesn’t speak. Alarm assaults me just as I feel hands on my calves, Ramzi placing my feet back into my pumps. Then three muscled walls sandwich me, crushing the last of my defiance to nothingness. Ramzi’s lips travel northbound to my nubbin. J. C. takes position root deep in my twat, while Ryck pinches my nipples. Moaning and groaning, I feel unbearably hot. Ryck releases my breasts, to cradle my face, assuring me, “It’ll be alright. Just breathe.” I do and their movements ease. Relieved, I smile-, thinking I’ve been spared from going down. But my opponents kickoff a harder fuck with Hannah round. Simultaneously they shove so fiercely into me that I’m lifted off the ground. “Oh, damn it,” I scream, a cunt milking climax making me cream. I’ve thrown in the towel, waved the white flag and still I haven’t completely satisfied this team. I’m outnumbered, outclassed, outplayed and they keep tormenting me. Fingers squeeze my aching breasts, my clit is nipped between hard teeth, then a fist hammers through my gripping gates and like a pro sports’ groupie, a bitch in heat, I take it, crying out, “Oh Fuck-, fuck-, fuck.” And due to their oral sweeps, clit pulls, cunt screws, ass bumps and rounds-upon-rounds of Jhumar’s relentless, erotic play, I’m finally beat. “ Goddamnit J. C., I’ve always loved you,” then I hang my head and weep. Ramzi and Ryck set me free, each bestowing a chaste peck on my cheek. Collecting the guns, they leave. Mingled heavy breathing fills the air and with my back still pressed against J. C., hands massaging the taut muscles of his thighs, I say, “Nothing will make me risk your life.” He holds me a bit tighter, but not tight enough that I feel secure. “I’m not so sure. What about the Admiral?” It’s all been one competition or another, his A-game, a test-, but this is where I’ve never wavered. I stand taller in the circle of his arms. “No one. No reason. No matter what happens between us.” Now it’s up to him and I’ll accept whatever he wants to offer: this moment, a minute, maybe more than today. His fingers glide down my front to trace his mark upon my mound. “Why weren’t you happy with me Hannah?” Closing my eyes, two tears roll down my cheeks. “I wanted you to sexually satisfy me, then make me yours exclusively. I didn’t know the latter was impossible, that you already had a wife.” He strokes then kisses my nape. “Christa’s more than that. She’s my partner, security and confidence. My Golden Girl tirelessly lifts me up. So I needed you, a Mistress, to bring me down.”

And I had, just the way he liked. I clear my throat of its watery clog. “Has she and the crew always known about me?” He rests his chin on my shoulder. “Yeah, and they didn’t like your attitude, or that you had a line of whipdicked lotharios taking pole position between your thighs. Damn it Boo, I couldn’t make love to my wife or other women because of you.” Before I’d been happy that he couldn’t mount the kittens, now I feel sick that I’d made him impotent. “J. C, I’m sorry.” A warm kiss is pressed to my cheek. “Don’t be. I got a lot from you. But I needed more.” “Yeah, I’ve seen how Christa and the kittens are.” “Boo, they wanted you out of my life. But, I wanted your devotion.” “I wish you would’ve told me the truth from the start.” “Would you have still seen me? Would full-disclosure have stopped you from playing revolving ring around the knob?” Thinking of the pain I’d caused him, about what he’s made me feel for Christa and what I can’t stop wanting, I hang my head and answer, “Yes.” J. C. sighs heavily. “Well, I’d been so whipped by your hard damn attitude, fiery pixie hair and fine fuckin’ ass that I didn’t think so.” Rubbing my upper arms, he nibbles my ear. “Boo, we made our decisions and because of them what we’ve shared is nearly over. But, we’ve had this weekend to ease us into the loss-, and hopefully I’ve satisfied you with the fantasies.” I kiss the fingers of his left hand that rest on my shoulder. “You have.” He gives me a squeeze so tight, that I feel my heart in my throat. “Good and I’ve gotten nearly everything I came here for. Later I’ll claim my final prize.” Stroking his hands down my sides to my hips, he rotates his pulsing erection against my rear, letting me know the trophy he’ll possess. “And there are a few more things I have planned for tonight.” Turning in his arms, I see his predatory expression and want him to push me down to pluck the bloom from my back garden, but I keep my longing to myself. “Until later then,” I say, knowing we can’t ever go back to the way we were, and shifting forward, the way I’d always longed for, isn’t an alternative in this game. Remorse slams into me, but I determinedly hold his gaze. After a while, he moves to retrieve his shirt I’d discarded and comes back to dress me. When he’s done, J. C. butterflies a kiss across my forehead then steps back, folding his arms across the blue tee that hugs his muscled chest. “Spend time with the kittens Hannah, eat, play and rest. Tonight we’re all going out and when the night’s through we’re headed back to Cali.” “Okay Jhumar.” Resigned to his will I move away, leaving my heart behind. “Boo?” Stopping, I dare not look back. “I like your hair-, up top and below.”

“Thanks.” Trembling, I hurry off, dreading an end that will rob me of him. **** It’s been hours since the showdown with Hannah and now light from the full moon bathes the desert. Me, Boo and the crew have been up from the underground for a while, occupying the area that’s situated above a maze of guarded tunnels, labs, vaults and armories that comprise part of the Castiglione Empire. Dressed in black, we blend with the night, jeans and shirts for the men, single-button blouses and flouncy miniskirts for our women. Atop this wasteland, Ryck rests on his back with Amy and Raven kneeling at his sides. Behind Raven, Ramzi is on his knees. Christa sits astride my brother’s stomach, giving him a view of her back, her chest angled by the kittens. Completing the feminine square, Hannah, thighs spread atop Ryck’s hips, faces my Golden Girl. Everyone is quiet, a pack of predators waiting to end the life Boo’s known. Positioned behind Hannah, I’m the conductor of this train, ready to get this journey started. Weapon in hand, I reflect on a few events that have gotten us to this point. This night had begun with me and the crew showing Boo that the lycan lover she’d craved had been in her life for years. As Ryck had driven the pack filled limo through the desert, my already raggedy-ass sheep’s clothing had been shredded. Amy, riding at her husband’s side, had turned up a radio broadcast: ‘Earlier today, in a penthouse of one of the Strip’s renowned hotels, a man, identified as ‘The Cuban’, the notorious West Coast meth supplier, was found dead. The initial viewpoint of responding authorities is that the thirty-two year old, California resident died from a single, self-inflicted gunshot wound. News contacts report a note having been discovered at the scene, detailing the man’s despondency over loosing Amy, the love of his life. It’s said he signed the sorrowful declaration, ‘Amy, sweet Amy, deliver me.’’ It had been a reveal to make Hannah aware of how methodically ruthless we are. She’d taken the news in stride, classifying the situation as ‘unfortunate business’. To show she’d meant her declaration, she’d kissed the crew with dedication, first joining her lips to Ramzi’s then Raven’s. Next, she’d wedged herself between that couple and leaned into the front of our ride. There she’d paid homage to Ryck and Amy, affording Christa and me a ringside view of her bare backside. To keep my mind on business and my hands off Hannah’s ass, I’d drawn her down between us. She’d promptly latched onto my Main Kitten’s lips, sliding kisses along her face, hands stroking my Golden Girl’s stomach, who‘d passionately returned the embrace. I’d separated them, turning Boo around, needing to see if her transformation had been complete. To my relief, it had seemed to be. In Hannah’s eyes, there was extreme respect and need for me. Her body had zinged, calling to the part of my being that was hers alone. Damn, she’d caused the morphed monster of Willie and Spunky The Wonder Dick, to spring up. I’d mentally restrained the beast to say, “Hannah, here’s a business proposition: work for us, fucking players into submission. You’ll be an exclusive consultant, making serious money and keeping company with the powerful people you crave.” Her eyes had rivaled the night’s stars. “When do I start?” “Not so fast. Understand, you can’t go running your mouth about what and who the fuck you do. Hooking-up with the crew, means you accept that you belong to us, to me.” She still hadn’t hesitated. “I’ll do it.” Boo had launched herself into Ramzi’s arms, smiling at Raven and Christa, then reaching her hand into the driver’s area to touch Ryck and Amy.

I’d given her as good as what she’d wanted: to be my exclusive possession and Hannah had flown high, her expression going far beyond the ‘O face’ I’d thrown down on her ass to get. When her celebration had waned, I’d held her gaze, glorying in the acquisition of our ‘Plaything’. But I needed to make the rules very clear. “Fuck me over and I’ll bring you out here, where you’ll remain, locked away, the rest of your life. If you can’t give us what we need, tell me now.” She’d let me see the power of my cane wielding Mistress in her eyes. “J. C., I want this.” “Alright Boo,” I’d said, bringing her hand to my lips. And like that, the deal had been forged. Now it’s time to complete the claiming of my fantasy loving woman, who’s gonna do her Alpha mates down and dirty in the desert. I smooth my hands up her thighs to the firmness of her buttocks and hear her intake of breath. “Boo, you know your mouth and ass are mine. Today you kissed Ramzi and Ryck-” “You told me to,” she interrupts. “That’s right. Because we’re the same. Everything you do with me, you can do with them and the kittens.” Boo leans over to lick Amy then Raven’s lips, while tweaking Christa’s nipple with her fingertip. “Gee, this is gonna be great.” I pull Hannah back from the kittens, telling her, “Take Ramzi into your mouth.” She turns and sucks on his exposed footer of a dick. “Use your tongue, but keep your head still. I wanna watch him control you.” Mouth full of cock, she follows my instructions, as Ramzi pushes forward and back, feeding her inch-after-inch. “That’s right, take it Boo.” The sound of her sucking fills the night, my knob throbbing as I massage her ass, part the cheeks to stroke and poke her hole. “Damn, you’re tight. Soon I’ll break you in, but now it’s time for the kittens to play.” Unified, Amy and Raven pounce, pinching and licking Hannah’s tits. A moan escapes her cock-stuffed mouth, which elicits a groan from Ramzi and he shoves harder, going deeper. “That’s so hot. Blow him, Boo. Blow him.” I slide my free hand to her pussy and find my Main Kitten already there, stroking and pulling Hannah’s clit, cunt juice coating our fingertips. “Come here Christa,” I lure her up on her knees and we lock lips, my tongue sliding in and out of her mouth as we listen to Ramzi pounding his hips against Hannah’s face. Her gulping tells me he’s ‘bout to deep throat, which will be my call to enter this race. Releasing my canine cunt chaser and Christa’s lips, I get kissing frisky with the kittens as Amy and Raven pull and push at Boo’s tits. I layer my middle finger with Christa’s and we plow Hannah’s cunt, making her hips hump. The wiener dawg is steadily stuffing Boo’s mouth and a zipper sliding signals Ryck’s ready to bust Boo’s pussy out. Me and my Golden Girl withdraw from Hannah’s sopping snatch and place our joined cum coated fingers against my Main Kitten’s mouth. She sucks them in, slurps them clean, licking up all of Boo’s tasty cream. My dick leaps at the sight, my gung-ho girl who’s finer-than-fine, and I tell her, “Woman, I’d be nothing if you weren’t mine.” Christa leans in to nibble my lips, then traces the inside of my mouth with her tongue. “Ah J. C., you know you’re the world to me.” Her hands caress Boo’s torso and tits, like the little red hellion is Christa’s exclusive

billion-dollar gift. “Woo hoo. Woo hoo, Woo fuckin’ hoo,” Raven and Amy’s cries fill the night. Then a trio of guttural sounds join the mix. One comes from Ryck, as Christa sticks his dick into Hannah’s slit. Next Boo sounds off as she’s shoved up by the force of my brother’s thrust, and last but not least, Ramzi growls as he completely buries his beast. Needing to take some of the edge off my desire to hump Hannah into the ground, I spank her ass, one hard whack and another raining down. “Ah Boo, you got more than enough cushion for the pushing. The kittens sound off, “Oh-, oh Hannah.” Christa palms Hannah’s ass and spreads the cheeks, giving me a mighty fine peek as my brother rams into Boo. “Ah, it’s ‘bout time I get in you too.” I grip her hips and rub her back hole with my tip. The crew keeps playing with their toy and she keeps spreading her brand of joy. I press against her back, breathing hot and heavy on her neck, damn I’m looking forward to this type of train wreck. Raising my hand, I halt all the action, leaning to her ear I whisper a confession, “This is gonna hurt, but push back. Fighting will make it worse. After this, you’ll belong to me.” Hannah shudders and with her mouth finally free, says breathlessly, “Yes completely.” I glide my finger down her spine and press my lips against the throbbing pulse in her throat. “Boo, finally I believe you.” I bite down and silently gloat. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she moans and quakes. “Now please. Oh, how I ache.” I grip her chin, turn her to look into my eyes and see everything I’d been denied. Taking her lips in a searing kiss, I taste intoxicating success in its sweet recess, then I reposition My Hannah, My Boo, My Plaything, ready to stake my final claim. Looking up into Christa’s eyes, with a motion of my hand I set this pack wild, and to the old Hannah Hardcastle, faithless knob-jockey extraordinaire, I say goodbye. Ramzi holds Boo’s head tight, fucking her face, while Ryck bucks into her with more force than grace. Boo sinfully sucks that Scottish shaft, while atop my brother’s hips, she does a bitch of a dance. Raven and Amy tweak Hannah’s tits as Christa spreads Boo’s cheeks wider, so I can blast straight into her pit. Positioning the throbbing head of my Morphed Monster at Boo’s puckered passage, her O-ring tenses, opens and closes on my tip. One of Christa’s hands cups me as I push into Boo just a bit. Hannah makes little muffled cries and wiggles her hips against mine. Then without mercy or measure, I push into my treasure, haunch down, dig in, pull-out, haunch down, dig in, pull-out-, racing my brother along her delicate fence. Her ass is gripping me so tight that I wince. Feeling the heat, Ryck, Ramzi and I catch each other’s beat-, and synchronized we all stall roots deep. High on a clenching throat, the scent of premium pussy and the tightness of an ‘A one’ ass, we thrust, pump, thrust, pump, hard, hard, harder-, until our Little Red she wolf weeps. Helping to ease her aches, the kittens suck Boo’s tits, while Christa stimulates Hannah’s clit. But of course, that’s not all she takes. To give her what she really needs, Ramzi keeps ramming down her throat, as Ryck and I push, pound, shove and stuff her Southern holes.

Unexpectedly, Christa giggles and stirs up some shit. She cock-blocks me, then Ryck, placing her free hand here and there. Then fuck it, the other kittens join her in giving us fits. When Ramzi pulls out of Hanna’s mouth, Raven captures her lips. Then Amy alternately grips Ryck’s balls and squeezes the base of his joystick. Now if that ain’t enough to drive me howlin’ mad, all three of the kittens take turns giving my nuts several flicks. Ah, but I’m a man on a mission, a dawg giving his bitch what she’s been missin’, so I keep ass fucking Hannah with masterful precision. She humps me back, stroke-for-stroke, her hole snapping and chomping on my bone ‘til I’m ‘bout broke. Then goddamn!, her O-ring clen-, clen-, clenches, her hole swallowing me to my stump and I grip her hips, pump-, pump-, pumping my cum into her rump. Ryck and Ramzi are with me, shouting as they fill her with their spunk. Then the kitten trio sing out, ‘oohing’, ‘ahing’ and ‘O-, o-, o-ing,’ their sexy scents mixing with Boo’s coconut cream as she screams, “Oh J. C.-, oh, oh, oh.” And in a heap, we collapse on the desert floor. Son of a dawg biscuit! I’ve gotten what I wanted, well… except one thing, that spontaneous ‘I love you’ message I’d been hoping for, but I still fist bump my brohs and lip lock our fine ass hos, then I ask Hannah, “Were we as good as the fantasies?” Her head rests on my shoulder and her hand over my heart. “Better. Let’s do it again,” she eagerly requests. I kiss her forehead. “It’s time we take you home.” She slides her index finger from my chest to my lower lip, resting her other hand on Christa’s hip. “I want to stay with the two of you.” My fingers wrap around her wrist. “No, Boo.” Hannah leans forward and submissively brushes her lips to mine. “Okay. I’ll get my stuff from the condo and start looking for a place,” she sounds sad and Christa wraps her arms around Boo, kissing her nape, giving me a pleading look. In silent response, I brush the cheek of my Golden Girl and twirl one of her silken curls, then I press a kiss atop Hannah’s fiery locks. “The new resident will be on site to let you in, Someone will meet you there and take you where you need to go.” Raising my head from Boo’s flaming pixie cut, I lean over and kiss Christa’s lips, holding Boo between us, looking forward to our return to the coast. **** Sitting at the corner of Pacific and Ocean, I say my goodbyes to the crew. Scooting across Jhumar’s lap, I exit the Hummer and for a moment stand in the morning sunlight, then look back to J. C., at his boyish handsomeness that makes his true nature, the predatory beast, a thing of obscurity. His gentle, golden eyes, look into mine. I lean down and press my open mouth to his, momentarily sinking into him. With a caress of my cheek, J. C. ends our kiss. “Go wait with your stuff. The driver will be here soon.” I watch Christa pass him keys, which he gives to me. “These are for the Malibu crib. Your roadster is there and later today Christa will meet with Jordan to straighten out your finances.”

Leaning across J. C., I latch onto our Golden Girl’s lips, suck her tongue into my mouth and only end the contact when I’m shaking with need. So is she; I feel her tremors as she strokes my hair. “Thanks for everything Christa. I’ll be at the Burbank office next Monday,” I say, then draw away. Rushing into the building, tears cloud my vision. I have a sense of being awfully unfulfilled, teetering on depression. Standing outside my former condo, I text J. C., ‘1, 4, 3’, then knock lightly. The door opens and I stagger back thinking, Good God, what won’t he do for me? Ethel, the homeless woman I’d given his Hermes gifts to, is here. She’s lovely, silver-haired, wearing a blue silk scarf draped over the shoulder of her white dress. This is one of the best gifts Jhumar has ever given me, and God knows he’s nearly given me the world of my dreams. Ethel winks. “Didn’t I say your man was the cat’s pajamas? Weeks ago, J. C. told me you’d be moving and that he wanted me to live here. From the first day I met you, he booked me into a local hotel and regularly checked that I had everything I needed. I couldn’t tell you before, because I’d promised not to.” I smile at her understandingly. “It’s okay. I’m just happy you’ve been safe.” I pull her into my arms. She returns my hug and after a long while extricates herself from the embrace to say, “So, you finally admitted you love him. I always knew you did.” I nod and my friend sweeps wisps of hair from my forehead. “Come in and get cleaned up. Your boxes are in the living room and there’s a change of clothes for you in the guest bath. I can’t stay, but I’ll see you in a few weeks.” She pulls me into the room while maneuvering herself into the hallway, then closes the door. I go shower, then dress only in the short, black leather skirt and corset that were left out for me. Walking barefoot into the living room, I place my desert garb into one of the boxes and proceed to scrounge for underwear. My partial state of nudity, beneath this particular outfit, a Hannah Hardcastle favorite, is starting to make me feel like my old self and I don’t want that. I doubt if I’ll be playing the bossy bitch anytime soon. Unfolding more carton flaps, I rummage away with no success, this getup up I’m sporting steadily riling my horniness. My nipples pebble and my mouth waters as visions of unleashed fucking with my fab five, plus J. C. painfully pounding my ass, fill my mind. Cunt clenching and sphincter squeezing, I growl in frustration at the goddamned emptiness. Being apart from them is torture. Shit, I thought Jhumar was through screwing me. Giving up on the panties, with trembling fingers and sweat beading my brow, I frantically paw through boxes digging for a personal toy, a bitch’s best friend, my dynamic dong. I’ve got a motherfucking monkey on my back and a serious goddamned itch to scratch. Shit, I’m jonesing-, for the crew, Christa, and of course-, My Man. Buzz! Buzz! Thwack!, I kick the nearest box. “Coming,” I shout. Yeah, don’t I wish. Strutting my craving cunt and avaricious ass to the door, I open it and immediately serve up my ‘O-face’. He’s here, black stiletto boots in one hand and a hickory stick in the other, sing-songing, “1, 4, 3. Hannah and J. C. sittin’ in a tree, K-I-SS-I-N-G. Boo, I love you and you love me.” I catapult into his arms, sending the boots and stick to the floor, wrists behind his neck and legs around his hips.

“Damn, I missed you,” I confess, raining kisses all over his face. Strong arms hold me, his hard body pulsing. This is my J. C. in victory. I look into his lustful, now, near black eyes, the gentle glowing gold overcome by a desire he can no longer deny, a call I’m prepared to answer for the rest of my life. There’s just one thing though. Easing off him, I put my feet on the ground. I stroke his hair and cheek, then grip his shoulder, until he kneels. Roughly clasping his nape, I lift my skirt and pull him in, making him whiff, sniff then lick my pussy, his tongue separating my tender labia to flit across my swollen clit. I grind-, grind-, grind against his mouth. God, how I’ve needed him subservient down South, with his tongue tracing his mark upon my mound. Feeling high, oh so high, I shudder and push his head back down. Yeah-, he has a wife, his work and wealth, a woman I’ll never be and things I’ll never replace, but my man, Jhumar Castiglione, needs me-, and the power only I possess, in this thang we got. Gripping his hair, I yank his head back, demanding, “J. C., what do I need to hear you saying?” He gives a sheepish look, though his voice is a feral growl, “Boo-, make me your Plaything.”

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