Softail Curves (A Big Girls & Bad Boys Erotic Romance (5 page)

However, Dutch did just as the he did the previous weekend, bringing me to the edge and leaving me there. I writhed and moaned as he ate me and held me just short of orgasm. “Daddy, why won’t you let me come?” I asked. I was buzzed but still, calling this man daddy made me feel so submissive and I loved it. Dutch looked up.

“Patience, I like eating pussy,” he said crudely and went back to work. I have no idea how long Dutch teased me or how many times he took me to the precipice only to leave me wanting but it was fucking incredible. I was desperate but aroused beyond belief. Finally, Dutch climbed onto the bed, placed a hand on each thigh, pushed my legs against my torso and slammed his thick shaft into my pussy.

I shrieked as he began to thrust slowly, my pussy stretched around his hard steel shaft. He wore an evil grin as he teased me, fucking me far too slowly to let me come. I was losing my mind. The sensation of his cock filling me along with the view of his amazing body looming over me was too much.

“Please, daddy. I need to come, daddy. Please let me come,” I begged. I felt a raw sense of humiliation having to beg Dutch to get off and it was delicious. That seemed to be all Dutch wanted. He wanted me to beg him, to show him I was all his. His thrusting quickened and his hips slammed into mine sending ripples through my lush flesh. I met each hammering thrust with my hips as they churned beneath and then I exploded. I shrieked as my body arched and a mind-blowing climax ripped through me. Dutch grit his teeth as he bore down and gave me everything he had.

Before the bliss had even subsided from my first orgasm, the next crashed into me. I couldn’t even scream as the pleasure stole my breath. I had handfuls of my comforter as I held on for dear life. Dutch’s fingers squeezed the soft flesh of my inner thighs. I thought it couldn’t get any better but Dutch had other plans. His hands left my thighs and he wrapped one around my neck and slapped my face playfully with the other.

“Did you like kissing her tonight? Did you like showing your tits to the whole bar and letting those other men take shots off your sexy, naked body? Do you like showing off your curves?” he asked and then slapped me again.

“Yes, oh God, yes!” I screamed as I rode another wild and wonderful wave of sheer ecstasy. Yes, I loved all of it. I loved kissing Sheila. I loved exposing myself to the crowd at the bar. But most of all, I loved letting Dutch have his way with me and the way he looked at my plump body. My head was spinning as the alcohol and the orgasms conspired to steal my sanity. Dutch slapped me again and then pinched my nipple and twisted roughly.

I screamed and another wild eruption of pleasure course through me. Dutch’s hips rammed into me like a jackhammer and each impact of his body against mine sent shockwaves through my ample flesh. He slapped one breast and then the other as I felt his cock swell and he tensed. He was close but he kept fucking me. One final shattering climax spread from my core to every corner of my body and the room sparkled and threatened to go black.

Dutch grunted and began to pull from me, but that wasn’t going to happen. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled Dutch back in. Dutch growled in satisfaction and his cock erupted within me. His hot orgasm filled my pussy as he grabbed my hips, his hands sinking into my indulgent flesh, and held his cock deep within me. I could only giggle and laugh as the sensations overwhelmed me. I felt Dutch spasm inside me and then he relaxed. His cum dripped from my pussy as he collapsed onto me and slipped his tongue into my mouth.

I wrapped my body around his and held him as he stroked my hair. Suddenly, the badass, dominant biker held me tenderly. Dutch lay on top of me, our hot, sweaty bodies heaving as we fought to catch our breath. I’d never been so satisfied or felt as sexy as I did right then. Dutch had taken me along for a ride and what a ride it was. He nuzzled my neck as I basked in his attention.

“That was fantastic, daddy,” I said. Dutch lifted his head and looked into my eyes.

“That’s all you had to do. You just had to give yourself to me. As long as you let me have you like I want, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” Dutch told me. I liked that, but I needed something from him.

“Do you really think I’m sexy?” I asked. Dutch raised an eyebrow.

“Shauna, don’t get me wrong, your body is fantastic. I love your curves. But that’s not why you’re sexy. You’re sexy inside. I saw it that first night. I told you I like a challenge. When I saw you sitting there in that bar I knew you didn’t belong there. I saw a light inside you that none of those other girls had and I was right. Yeah, I really think you’re sexy, inside and out, and you proved it tonight,” he told me.

That’s all I needed to hear. I knew he meant every word. I don’t think Dutch was capable of holding back his thoughts and opinions. He might have been a man of few words but when he spoke, his words were genuine and honest. I hugged Dutch to me, “Thank you.”

“Just telling you the way it is,” he said.

>>O<<

That next morning after Dutch left, I met Becky at the coffeehouse and told her everything. I told her about riding behind Dutch, about his friends at the seedy bar, about the body shots, about kissing Sheila but when I told her about the sex with Dutch, I took my time and didn’t leave out a single detail. I did it as much to shock her as to measure her. I wanted to know how she’d react. I wanted to know if she was a true friend or not.

“That’s just...disgusting,” Becky said.

“What part?” I asked.

“All of it. Letting all those people touch you, kissing that woman...,” she began to say and I’d heard enough.

“Wait a minute. What happened to all your tolerance? I thought you were all for gay rights, but I kiss a woman and it’s disgusting?” I challenged her. Becky seemed to be at a loss for words. It seemed a little logic and reason was too much for her. I wasn’t a lesbian and Sheila and I were just playing around for the guy’s benefit, but that didn’t matter.

Becky, and a lot of my friends, wore their supposed tolerance on their sleeves. They talked as if they were somehow more tolerant, more compassionate and more accepting than the masses. However, their actions proved just the opposite time and time again. They said one thing because it made them feel good, but did another. I knew what was coming next and I was dead on.

“Well, you’re not a lesbian,” Becky said. There it was. The exception that made what she said the right thing. I fit in so Becky and those like her accepted me. I was like them so I was OK. However, as soon as I made choices Becky didn’t agree with or understand, she started looking down her nose at me. However, Dutch and his friends were real. They weren’t pretending to be anything they weren’t just to fit in. One Dutch was worth a hundred of the metrosexual so called men I used to date. One Sheila was worth a hundred friends like Becky.

“So what does that matter?” I asked. Again, Becky was speechless for a moment. Then she attacked. I should have seen it coming. Not only was I questioning her ideals, but she couldn’t argue with my logic.

“I’m so disappointed in you. I thought you were better than that. Frankly, I’m disgusted. Just because you’re overweight doesn’t mean you have to sink to those people’s level,” Becky said.

“Is that what you think about me?” I asked giving her one last chance to convince me I had grossly misunderstood her.

“What that you’re a loser or that you’re fat?” Becky asked. I was hoping for at least a halfhearted explanation but I guess I had offended Becky’s sensibilities and now I was beneath her and, therefore, no longer worthy of her respect.

“Wow!” was all I could say. Sure, I wasn’t perfect but neither was Becky. I used to want to look like her. I held myself up to her and never felt like I measured up. Dutch was right. It wasn’t what I looked like that mattered. It was what I was inside that defined me. Becky might have been a beautiful girl on the outside but on the inside, she was ugly. Suddenly, I felt so much prettier than Becky.

“Go be with your biker buddies. Go let that guy all but rape you. Go demean yourself with that dyke. I don’t know who you are anymore and I don’t want to,” Becky said only confirming my thoughts.

“Well, I guess that makes two of us. I’m disappointed too. You’re just an elitist. You think you’re better than everyone else and it’s so unbecoming,” I said as I got up, grabbed my purse and prepared to leave the coffeehouse.

“I am better. I’m better than that scuzzy biker of yours and if you want to be with a guy like that, I’m better than you are. Have fun biker girl,” Becky said dismissively. I just shook my head and walked away. How could I have been so blind? When I made choices she agreed with, Becky was my best friend but as soon as I took a different direction, she turned on me. I looked back as I walked past the front windows. That place was full of people like her. Whether they were elitist bitches like Becky or just pretending to be to fit in and feel good about themselves didn’t matter.

I suddenly felt liberated. I called Dutch and asked him if he wanted to go for a ride. He did. He always did. I went home, changed into jeans and tight tank top and slipped into a pair of spike-heeled boots that weren’t intended for riding on the back of a motorcycle, but looked the part all the same. Dutch showed up and we walked out to his bike. I put on my helmet, straddled the bike and slipped my arms around Dutch. “C’mon, daddy. Let’s of have some fun,” I whispered in his ear.

Dutch looked over his shoulder and smiled. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have too. He stomped on the starter, popped the bike into gear and off we roared. I felt the wind in my face, the freedom, and held Dutch even tighter. I barely knew this man or what he was about, but I meant to find out. For now, however, I didn’t care. It felt good and I went with it. That’s all that really mattered.

>>O<<

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 Please enjoy this excerpt from 
Rock Hard Love
, Part 1 of the Rock Hard series.  It’s only 99cents!

“Do you enjoy teasing me to get me angry?” I asked tersely ignoring the excitement between my thighs. His face went serious as he hooked his leather boot around the leg of my chair and slid it across the tile floor towards him. I grabbed the seat to keep from tumbling to the floor. James leaned close and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“I’m going to enjoy so much more than teasing you,” he said in a low whisper as his hand found my bare knee and worked its way under the hem of my skirt. I sighed despite myself as this man, this agonizing, abrasive man, touched me and I suddenly wanted him never to stop. His hand squeezed my inner thigh, just short of my panties, and he kissed me ever so softly. For a moment, there was nothing but his lips and his hand but after the initial shock wore off, my defenses kicked in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked as I pulled away and pushed his hand from my leg. I wanted him to kiss me again and touch more than my thigh but I was scared. I’d never felt the way I did as he touched me. My heart felt as if it might beat right out of my chest and my panties were surely soaked. James laughed softly.

“Yeah, I do like your fiery side. You come off as some innocent farm girl from the sticks but I know there’s more inside. I can sense you’re just aching to let loose and I’m the man that’s going to set you free, little girl,” he said as he pushed my chair away to where it belonged. I was pissed or turned on beyond belief, I wasn’t sure which.

“I’m not some groupie. You can’t just assume I’m going to jump into bed with you. I’m not attracted to men like you. I’m not some whore that will just peel her clothes off and submit to the egomaniac rock star. And stop calling me little girl,” I replied as sternly as I could muster but every word was a lie. Against my nature, contrary to everything I believed about myself, I wanted nothing more than to be nude for James and let him have his way with me. I was dying to let loose and do things with James I’d never even dared to dream of before. I did want to be his whore and do anything he asked. Nevertheless, I wasn’t ready for that and it was as if James could read my mind.

“You’re not ready...not yet. Nevertheless, inside you’re all those things. I can see past your prim and proper exterior. I’m going to bring out your wild side, little girl. Mark my words,” he said ignoring my request and everything else that I’d said. I was hot, flushed and my breathing was fast and ragged. I wanted it to be anger. I wanted to hate him, to slap his face and walk out of the restaurant. However, it wasn’t anger and I didn’t leave. Thankfully, the chef walked in and I never had to find out if I had any self-control left at my disposal.
 

About the Author

D. H. Cameron enjoys writing stories with a heart and a little, or a lot, of erotic sizzle.  Ms. Cameron also writes fantasy under another pen name.  Besides writing, Ms. Cameron enjoys music, specifically hard rock and heavy metal, cooking, clothes and photography.  Ms. Cameron is happily married with two wonderful children.  Home, where Ms. Cameron writes full time, is in Nevada.

Copyright 
© 2013 D.H. Cameron. All Rights Reserved worldwide.
 

This is a work of fiction intended for mature adults. Names, characters, places and events are purely the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to actual places, events and/or persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.