“I still have the gun.”
Under the guise of keeping the peace, I bent as far forward as I could and stuck my tongue out. I remember the distance from my tongue to my dick being somewhat shorter. I stretched further until I could taste the slightly savory essence of my own precum and the lingering taste of Rikki’s essence. The second lick was easier, but still a strain. Maybe there were too many potatoes between my mouth and my crotch.
“Yes, that’s it. Now suck it. Suck it deep.” I glanced over to see her rubbing her clit with her fingers. Every few rounds, she would slip her finger deep in her pussy.
One good thrust and I found the head of my dick sitting firmly in my mouth. Closing my lips around my own dick felt strange, like someone else was sucking me off, but I was getting all the workouts for it. Remembering the taste and the smell was one thing. Feeling a prick vein in your mouth is another. I found the strange sensation most disturbing
—
if for no other reason, I was getting turned on by sucking a guy’s dick. Even if was mine, I didn’t really like it the direction this could go. I had to admit, on some level, I liked this. Whatever tequila was left in my body wasn’t blocking out all these thoughts and it disturbed me greatly. I should have kept drinking.
She began to moan, loudly and with a vibrato. Soon, She would be out of control and I could make my move. I stopped giving my dick the attention it was becoming used to so that I could watch the action. Ann really knew how to put on a show when she was willing.
“Suck that dick!”
I began to crawl in her direction while still giving my shaft a few good strokes. Ann hadn’t noticed. Even a few moans from working my rug-burned knees across the floor didn’t take her eyes off of her cunt. She only looked up when I reached my tongue to gently lick her fingers over her clit.
“Get back there. I want you to suck that cock for me.”
There wasn’t an area around her clit that I didn’t lick. With my hand still lightly stroking my own tool, the thoughts of getting control of her wouldn’t stop coming. She liked it. She liked it enough to move her hands to my head and force me deeper into her pussy. I was finally licking that soft spot just past her lips that drove her wild. I knew I had her. Her other hand, forgetting its job of holding the gun on me, accepted my grip as I extended our arms away from our bodies, my hand folded over hers.
Sitting erect on my knees, I moved her gun hand away from my face and slid my dick against her vulva, parting the lips just slightly. The noticeable arching in her back confirmed what I had thought all along. The true nature of her quest was to fill her pussy with my dick once more. I obliged. With slow, disciplined movements, I slid my tool all the way in until I felt my balls touch her ass.
“Now, rub that pussy,” I said.
She stroked that cunt like it was full of itching powder. Her fingers were a blur, but those moans were real and guttural. When her eyes began to roll back in her head, I knew I could relax and enjoy our time. After all, I controlled the gun.
The slight touch of her furious fingers against the pad of skin above my dick was driving me crazy. Never before had I felt such a feeling. The faster she went, the closer I came to losing control. Under the mammoth task, I looked down at Ann, so engrossed at what she was doing, she couldn’t possibly know what I was doing.
She was fixated on that last orgasm. Whether it was mine or hers, I don’t know, but the whole process confirmed what I thought, she only wanted my nine-inch dick one last time. In all the scheming and betrayal, my dick was a treasure she had to have.
With her last, priceless vocalization, I shoved my dick as deep in her pussy as I could. I felt her legs stiffen around me. Her toes curled into a ball and she screamed louder than ever before. The massive orgasm rolled over her with such complete captivation, she lost all control, her body spasming violently until she collapsed onto the couch, spent and exhausted.
I withdrew my dick from her pussy and laid her arms, across her chest. Relieving my knees from their torture, I stood over Ann, pointing the gun at her face.
“Suck it.”
Her eyes must still have been foggy as she squinted to see the reality of the situation. She was now the sex slave.
“Suck it, now.”
I can’t remember what she muttered as she leaned forward to lick her juices from my dick, but her face said she disliked the taste of herself. I thought it strange, since she was known for going down on girls on a whim. With a locket of her hair in my hand, I shoved her head down on my dick, feeling it pass her mouth and to a point she began to gag. I couldn’t believe the intense sensation running from my dick to my brain, and every single nerve ending between. The muffled swearing and fighting just increased my pleasure. I made a mental note to remember this in the future.
I desperately wanted to feel my dick bottoming out in her mouth. With a clump of hair still wrapped in my finger, I shoved her head down. My hips thrust my dick down her throat as she violently fought to stop my progress, but I would not have her tell me anything anymore. With one final push, I felt my balls land on her chin and my dick slide down her throat. The feeling of her lips planted squarely in my pubic hair felt wonderful. The thrusting and gyrating she was doing intensified the feelings running through my body. In all too short a time, I had to stop. I couldn’t afford to explain how she choked to death on my dick.
But all too quickly, the world for Ann changed. She was my slave. I held everything she wanted, and I planned to make her beg for it. Her fingers found their way to her crotch, again, and she was rubbing every part of pussy she could reach. The sight of her sucking my dick and the view of her rubbing her clit below it turned an already exciting moment into a passion I will never be able to recreate.
“Turn over, doll.”
“Oh, doggie style. How appropriate.”
The first sight of her glistening backside was monumental. The sweat and juices had run over her perfectly round asshole, enticing me to find some way to fill that hole. The sensation of heaven I felt when I finally rubbed the tip of my dick around her brown flower almost grabbed my attention away from the very dangerous woman in front of me.
“Well,” she said. “Go ahead. Stick it in.”
I heard her grunt as my massive dick split her ass open. It was obvious she had taken some big dicks in her ass, before, but this one must have gotten her attention. The scream she laid down when my dick bottomed out filled the giant room with echoes.
The more she fought to get it out, the harder I rammed her ass. Strangely, the more she fought the more excited I became. I felt her muscles tightening around my dick. The awkward way we danced as she tried to pull away and I strained to keep my dick buried deep in her gave me a sense of belonging. I found a home that could take all of me.
As with all good things, this had to come to an end. She finally broke loose and moved away, screaming obscenities along the way. Pointing the gun at her again, I convinced her that she should do as I say, always, or at least until death do us part. Although we had come to an understanding, my dick still wanted one last final come. Wrapping her hair in my hand, I slid my dick all the way down her throat.
She didn’t gag or fight me. With long, deep strokes, she sucked my dick with all her heart. Returning her hand to her clit, she rubbed my dick and her pussy concurrently. When the first few spasms flooded her throat, she swallowed in rhythm with my contractions. Even with a small orgasm flowing over her like a wave, she drank every drop. The two of us quivered for a few seconds, frozen in that solitary position. Neither of us knew what would happen next. We had survived.
I could have taken her life with a simple squeeze of the pistol. Nothing made me want to save her from the same fate she had planned for me. There was only that simple look of resignation on her face. The rose colored cheeks settled among the frown lines in her face. I couldn’t determine if she was asking me with her eyes to spare her, or if she just wanted to get it over.
I fired a shot just to know for sure her intentions. The bullet shattered the wood of the mantle by the fireplace. I hadn’t wanted to kill someone over a bluff. The second discharge felt better, relieving more tension. I felt no real remorse at the destruction of the vase. It might have cost a plenty, but it wasn’t my money. Another bullet crashed through the silver service near the door. The last bullet buried in the bedpost, rattling the bed for some seconds. Ann sat through the whole process without even flinching.
“Got a cigarette, doll?”
Ann fumbled through her pockets. Nothing. I zipped my pants up and walked away from her, finding the cigarette box on the table near the lighter. Cool menthol flowed through my lungs as I remained silent. I could hear her shuffling about in the room. She must have been dressing because when I returned my gaze to her a long flowing gown covered her body, one that flowed over her hips and fluffed out in every direction.
Dressed and completely at a loss of what to say, the two of us meandered down to the kitchen for a bite to eat. I made a few sandwiches and poured us more whiskey. She traced the outline of a heart in her potato salad. Who it belonged to, I couldn’t guess.
She broke the silence. I still concentrated on the sandwich, stopping long enough to slurp down a shot or two. The night would be long and I did not know where or when the next meal would come from.
“Grab your stuff and let’s go,” she muttered.
“Go with you? You tried to kill me.”
She threw her pocketbook over her shoulder. “You either go with me or greet the police when they arrive.”
The thought of having a conversation about all those dead people didn’t appeal to me. I liked the idea of leaving with Ann, even if I had to kill her later. I didn’t worry about her. She could have killed me anytime. She wanted my dick and that was the truth.
“I’ll grab the bag upstairs. I assume it is full of money?”
Ann shrugged. “No, silly. It is much more valuable than money. Money is spent and gone. This gift lasts a lifetime. Get the bag and let’s get out of here. I’ve already called the police.”
Funny how women can be all about killing you until their plan falls apart and you become part of the escape plan. The car, parked by the light, was the car of a dead guy and soon would be the object of a wide man hunt. I couldn’t take a chance on something so obvious. The yard across the street had a parking lot full of cars, from sports cars to luxury vehicles. Luckily for me, the drop-top job away from the house still had the keys in the ignition. Putting the transmission in neutral, I eased the car down the drive to the street, pushing it with all I had left. A turn of the key and the beastly motor came alive, ready to run down the roads at speeds not possible in the United States. Stopping only briefly, Ann crawled into the passenger seat, covering her hair with a scarf.
“If you are nice and get me out of this state safely, I might show you what color underwear I am wearing.”
I grabbed her dress and forced it over her lap until it exposed her bare crotch. “Fur? A little late in the season for that, isn’t it?”
The cold wind blew over the windshield as we traveled down those lonesome back roads between Hell and Las Vegas. I thought about the people still lying on the floor in that small town just east of nowhere, whether they’d been found, and what became of the young lass at the store. It is not real, though. Not anymore. Ann is a housewife and a member of the bridge club. Our two kids play in the backyard of our ranch house in the desert. The neighborhood doesn’t know the things from hell, or that Ann still sucks my dick when tell her to. Me? I gamble at the casino, chase the young things in the chorus line, and go to Elvis shows when he is in town.
Crazy thing is, I listen to the Beatles now.
Chapter Four
Jack on the Rocks
His coal black eyes rolled into his sockets as he sipped the last drop, two fingers of whiskey gone that quick. The room smelled of dirty socks and salty air. The cheap whore from last night lay sprawled across the sheets, her eyes cold and her lips taut. He couldn’t think of anything else but the last vision of his wife leaving home.
The crunching sound of the ice as he chewed echoed in the room, no window treatments, no soft tapestries on the walls, just those blaring florescent lights and the dark shadows of the corners. He knew better than to look in the shadows. Death hid there. The old spirit of some ghastly vision only seen by drunks and hookers. There was no time to think about it. He had to leave before the cops came.
Chapter Five The Daily Paper
The
newspaper predicted the night too well. In another town and in another dimension, the headline announced another Ripper-like killing in that hotel room, a single whore ripped open, sliced down her abdomen and into her groin, pictured in full color across the front page. The moment I saw her I knew the boy was dead as well. All too often there are Johns around these sweet angels.
I don’t want to kill them. I have dinner plans, roast duck in a pressed sauce with small red potatoes and a wonderful wine. Friends don’t often come calling and I certainly miss the company of living guests. I shall have to find some way of containing them long enough to deliver this poor, dear fallen angel to her maker.