If you asked him today why he did what he did next, he still wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer. Maybe because at this point they were connected more tightly then they had ever been. This was double murder after all and despite their relationship-long, us against the world mantra, after tonight’s mayhem, no matter what happened, they would forever be united under the bond of double homicide for the rest of their days.
And maybe, maybe, that’s why he reached over and held her hand with schoolboy innocence as they walked to the car. He was fully aware of the shocked look this act elicited, but he didn’t care and he smiled openly in response to the reaction and then he held her soft, strong hand tighter. When they reached the car he pushed her along past it and into the shabby, unkempt yard. It took her only a fraction of a second to analyze the events of the last thirty seconds.
“Now you’re gonna’ fuck me?”
He took her and kissed her hard and long. But this kiss was different than most he put upon her, this one held the character of, passion. When the kiss broke she stared at him quizzically.
“You held my hand and now you’re going to fuck me because we committed murder together and now we’re linked for eternity?” Her face was empty now,
blank. “You think fucking me will seal the deal, guarantee our bond for all time?”
He wished she hadn’t said it like that. Wished she hadn’t taken his honest, candid, authentic and direct attempt to immortalize his perceived strengthening of their union, unholy or not, and boiled it down to such a stark, ugly, bare-boned essence. Yes, at the heart of the matter, in a strictly practical, objective analysis, the hand holding and fucking was symbolic to a special, distinct and certainly elite form of bonding. Special, distinct, and elite because of the nature upon which it existed, the nature being two individuals who have perpetrated an act together whose consequences inexorably tied their futures forever.
These gestures of his, this holding of the hands and inserting of the penis were perhaps childish in manner, akin to two kids on a schoolyard taking a pinky swear, or secreting themselves behind a garage to cut the palms of their soft little hands with a piece of broken and discarded glass, pulling it from the Earth and wiping the hardened dirt away, using its jagged edges to open the skin to consummate a blood oath. But alas, he was never really good at the affection side of relationships, and neither was she for that matter, and these two acts were his best guess at affection.
“I think I do love you,” he soothed.
“Really?” was her shitty reply.
He gathered her into him and pulled her clothing free as he continued to kiss her feverishly. Tugging at his own clothes, he yanked and wretched them off continuing to assail her with strong heavy kisses.
There was a spot where the overgrowth did not exist, where the grass was alive just enough to provide a usable bed and it was there he lowered them both to the ground and began dropping his kisses lower, down to her neck, to her shoulders, her heaving chest, her stomach, her silky thighs.
She arched her head up to watch his increasingly erogenous progress, her hands on his head, breathing heavily, eyes screaming her want, his mouth and that
awesome, incredible, dancing tongue touched the outside of that spot, glossy with the come that had been begun flowing not long after he had begun kissing her.
His tongue licked, flat and wide over the humps of her eternally eager opening and she arched her head back and moaned as her body quivered, his hands gliding over her upper body to knead her sex-sensitive breasts and pinch and pull the erect nipples.
He concentrated his attention where the humps meet the thigh, licking slowly with the tip of his tongue, making it pointy and hard, wiggling it front and back slowly, deliberately. Then he flared out his tongue once more and engulfed each hump, one at a time, letting his saliva coat the flesh generously. The body underneath him reacted instantly and he had to fasten his hands to her ankles to steady her spasms.
Moving his mouth and tongue to the wet opening, he spread it wide with the fingers of both hands, and his partner, watching him once more, eyes squinted in rapture, moaned louder, a higher pitch escaping her pouting lips. He thrust his mouth and tongue deep inside her soaking hole, sucking and nibbling the inside walls, darting that broad tongue in and out rapidly.
Keri thrust her hips up to him, raising her ass off the ground, grabbing handfuls of his hair and shoving his face hard against her, willing the pleasure giver to go deeper and ever deeper into her shaking body.
Moving to the outside once again, he attacked her swollen clit with the tip of his tongue then began nibbling it with teeth and lips. Three fingers found their way into her body, pistoning in and out at great speed while the other hand shot up to her breasts, roughly seizing and gripping them.
Keri’s body heaved several times in rapid succession and these great heaves were accompanied by voluminous screams of unchecked, beastly pleasure as her body flooded forth its succulent sticky juice in a heavy, generous volume. As she came down from the last of the orgasms, she seized the fingers that had, moments earlier, been probing and pleasuring her insides and greedily sucked and licked the tasty sticky fluid from them as frosting from a spatula. Bobby shifted his body one hundred and eighty degrees over her and his cock dropped fully into her wanting mouth.
He opened her soft thighs and renewed his oral pleasuring upon her, using both hands to roughly open her completely. Keri soon rolled them over, she now on top, her hips grinding on his face, her come driveling down his cheeks in rivulets while she swallowed his handsome penis, working his smooth, firm balls with both hands. His hands on her ass, he threw her up and off of him, springing on her, mounting her, and pinning her hands above her head, hammering her with lustful fury.
Feeling like you need to be tamed more? Read the book, The Taming of Jenesa, today!