Christ!
His body rocked, Darnell slapping against his ass, him slapping against Lacey. So fucking good. And it just got better, and better, and better.
Being fucked by Darnell. Fucking Lacey. All jumbled up in his overwhelmed mind.
Lacey was the first to cum. Her hand had been furiously rubbing her engorged bean, and she suddenly clenched her body, and screamed, loud and fierce. Braden felt the rippling contractions of her pussy, clamping on his throbbing cock, milking it, trying to get him to join her in release.
Somehow Braden held on. Just a little longer, a little more. He wanted to make Darnell cum first, come on big man, cum for me….
Darnell groaned, and buried himself, balls deep, with one massive final thrust. Braden felt that big cock swell, and pulsate, and then felt the spasm of Darnell’s release, as the big man ejaculated deep within his back passage.
“Fuck,” Darnell gasped out, as he pumped his cum into Braden’s bowels, his cries mixing with Lacey’s, her voluptuous body still shuddering beneath Braden.
And Braden finally let himself go, let everything go. His cock, still lodged within Lacey, swelled, and throbbed, and then erupted, blasting hot scalding cum deep inside her, even as Darnell was doing the same to him.
Christ!
Sweet fucking Christ.
They all collapsed in a heap. Darnell flopped onto his back, and gathered Lacey close in one strong arm, and Braden with the other. Drawing them close, both of them, till the three of them were skin on skin, one giant ball of sweaty, satiated, satisfied flesh.
“Holy fuck,” Darnell said at last.
Braden didn’t say anything. Just burrowed closer to Darnell, pressing his full body against him. On the other side, he could see Lacey doing the same.
Impulsively, Braden reached over Darnell, to gently stroke Lacey’s cheek.
She turned her face into the gesture, and kissed his palm.
Braden looked at her, and quietly said “Thank you.”
She nodded dreamily, knowing what he meant. Thank you for making this happen.
A tender moment, a beautiful moment.
And then Darnell laughed, a rumble deep in his chest, a freight train sound.
“You gonna thank me, too, little man?” he asked.
Braden half rose upon one elbow, and looked at Darnell. Darnell, who had been like a big brother to him, since forever. His protector, his mentor.
Darnell, who had shown him what he really was. What he could be.
“Thank you, Darnell,” he said, and kissed the big man right on the lips.
On the far side of them, Lacey giggled, and joined in the kiss.
Connor Clade
MAKING MARCUS HAPPY
Drew knew he had fucked up.
But hadn’t he known that, from the very first? The first time Sharlynne had pitched him the idea, hadn’t he known then?
Some things, a lily-ass white suburban kid should not mess with. No matter how bad ass he thinks he is, he should know there are forces in the world a lot more bad ass than he is.
And more terrifying.
The air was cool against his skin, especially where his shirt had been torn, when they had grabbed him off the street. There was a damp, earthy smell, and the random slow drip of water. Drew figured he was in a basement somewhere. Couldn’t get anything by him.
Which didn’t help all that much. After he been thrown into the trunk, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, he must have passed out. For all he knew, he could have been driven half way across the country.
Now, he was sitting on a hard wooden chair in some basement. Hands still bound behind him, gagged, blindfold still covering his eyes.
Best case scenario, they hadn’t killed him yet.
Worst case scenario, they hadn’t killed him. Yet.
Drew heard the scrape of a shoe, rubbing along rough concrete. Coming closer. Unable to see, his other senses seemed more acute.
Which was a mixed blessing.
Smack!
Drew rocked back in his chair, almost tipping over. Fuck, that hurt! He hadn’t seen the blow coming, and the surprise made it worse. At least it was an open hand slap, not a fist.
Or a bat. Or a pipe.
“You hear me okay, white boy?” The voice was deep. Commanding. Well spoken, overlaid with just the faintest trace of street. And Drew’s heart sank even more.
He recognized the voice. He knew who had him now.
Marcus.
Rough hands pulled the gag free, and Drew gasped.
“Man, I’m sorry. Sorry. I’ll make it right, Marcus.”
There was a silence, and when Marcus spoke, there was a tinge of amusement in his voice. “You ain’t that bright, are you? Seems if a man was intent on staying alive, it would be smarter not to let on he knows who he’s talking to.”
“S-s-sorry, Mar--. I mean, I don’t know shit.”
This time the smack was a backhand, and not quite as hard. Still hurt a fuck ton, though.
Drew fell silent, head lolling forward on his chest. The blindfold was jerked off Drew’s head, and he blinked stupidly against the harsh fluorescent lighting.
Yeah, a basement. And just before he screwed his eyes shut as tight as he could, Drew saw two things.
One was a rack of carpentry tools, neatly mounted on a peg board on the side wall. Hammers and saws and rasps and drills. They looked well used.
The other was Marcus. Oh, it was Marcus all right. Bullet headed, massively built, ebony skin glistening in the light. His huge arms were crossed in front of his chest, his shaved head gleaming, tatts almost glowing against his dark flesh.
Drew moaned.
“A little late for regrets, now. Still, it might get worse yet. If Sharlynne gets away with my money, I’ma be really pissed.”
Sharlynne. Drew made himself open his eyes. She was supposed to meet him, hook up and then get the hell out of Dodge. Except she’d been late, and Marcus’s men had got to him first.
“Oh, yeah, lovely Sharlynne. Don’t you know never to trust a bitch, boy?”
Drew surely knew it, now.
“All her idea, no doubt. She knew who the courier was, when he would be coming through. How much he would be carrying.” Marcus paused. “And here she was, with a stupid white boy wrapped around her little finger. I hope she showed you a real good time, cuz you’re gonna pay for it.”
Drew’s tongue felt thick. It was hard to talk. “Sharlynne… what happened to her?”
This time, the blow was softer. Almost a love tap. It still rocked Drew back in his chair.
“I think maybe your focus should be on what’s gonna happen to you. Sharlynne knew the risk she was taking, even if you didn’t. I’m expecting a call directly, about the lovely Sharlynne.”
Marcus stood, and crossed to the rack of tools. His muscles bunched and moved, looking like they were almost ready to burst out of skin. He seemed to think for a moment, then plucked a wood file off the pegboard. It was big one, almost a foot long, but it still looked tiny in Marcus’s huge hand.
“I’d ask why you ever let her get into your head, but I know. One fine ass on Sharlynne, and that’s the truth. And she knows how to use it.”
Drew was finding it harder and harder to worry about Sharlynne. And easier and easier to worry about the tool in Marcus’s hand.
“What’s—what’s gonna happen to me?” Drew asked.
“Ain’t rightly decided. First up, I’m waiting on that call, to tell me we’re all squared away.”
Drew could figure out for himself, that if things weren’t all squared away to Marcus’s satisfaction, it would be a very bad thing.
“Second of all, boy, I’m trying to figure something out. I’m trying to figure out if you are the dumbest poor son of a bitch I ever come across.”