Stone - Big Girls & Bad Boys (11 page)

“Graceful,” I observed.

“I meant to do that.  It’s easier down here,” he said as he finished undressing.  Moments later, he was naked too and Stone got to his feet and walked over.  He didn’t waste any time settling between my legs and pushing them even wider.

“Take your time,” I suggested playfully.

“Gladly,” he replied and dove in.  I arched as he focused on my hot nub, swirling his tongue around it and sending delicious sensations up my spine.  As on our first night together, Stone took me to wild, rarely seen places.  I was swimming in torrid climaxes, desperate for more.

“You’re pretty fucking good at that,” I exclaimed after a particularly strong orgasm.

“It’s the beard.  It gives me super powers,” he told me.  That wasn’t entirely a joke.  The beard tickled parts of me that wouldn’t have been stimulated otherwise.  Stone seemed intent on proving his skill and soon, with his tongue lashing my swollen clit and two fingers buried inside of me, I cried out, shuddering and quaking as the electric pleasure ripped through me.

“Okay!  Enough!” I pleaded.

“So soon?” he asked with a hint of disappointment.

“No, I could let you do that all night.  But if I don’t stop you, I’ll never get to ride that glorious cock,” I replied.

“Oh, in that case...,” he said, leaving his thought unfinished as he got up and flopped onto his back.  Stone’s thick manhood stood tall and ready.  A rivulet of his juices ran down the length of his shaft.  I shook off the last of that powerful climax, got to my knees and straddled Stone.  I reached back, aimed his thick shaft towards me with one hand and then impaled myself on his cock.

“Mmm, yes!” I whispered as I began to bounce.  Stone’s hands wandered my lush and abundant body, exploring every soft curve, as I rode him.  It wasn’t long before I’d coaxed another orgasm forth.  I arched and sighed as the pleasure, a deeper, more satisfying feeling, overwhelmed me.

Stone sat up, his hands around my waist, and buried his face in my soft breasts.  We rocked as one, Stone indulging in my heavy boobs as I felt every inch of his cock within me.  Hell, if Jamaican thugs were going to kill me, this would certainly be my last wish.

I endured several more orgasms, the feelings almost too much at this point.  I was overheated and ready to give in but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Instead, I pushed Stone to the bed and fell atop him.  I hugged his neck as he began thrusting from underneath.  I let out a primal scream that grew in pitch and volume.

“Yes...Yes...Yes,” I whimpered as I was ravaged by the most incredible orgasm yet.  I was left sobbing and shivering.  But Stone would not be stopped.  He drove into me as I held on to him for dear life.  For untold moments, I was ravaged.  My vision went dark as the pleasure overwhelmed me.  I was gasping for breath.

And then Stone erupted within me.  He cried out and I joined him as we both sought to satisfy our deepest desires.  It could have lasted for mere seconds or for many minutes but I had no idea.  I was lost to it, lost to the emotions and physical sensations.  I was swept away.

And then Stone finally stopped and part of me, at least, was glad for it.  I was breathless and spent as I lay on Stone’s chest.  It rose and fell as well, as Stone caught his own breath.  Then I heard those words.  The words I should have said before and needed to be said now.

“I love you, Maria.  I’ve loved you since I first met you,” he told me.  I’d said those words in haste and desperation earlier and I meant them.  But now, I said them because I wanted to.  I was even surer now than I was before.  I loved this man.

“I love you too, Stone.  I love you so much,” I said.  It was impulsive to be sure but it felt right.  We lay there holding each other until we fell asleep.  I was far too tired and drained to consider what might happen tomorrow at midnight.  I didn’t want to.  I wanted to live in this moment for as long as I could.

>>O<<

Sunday morning came far too soon.  I made Stone breakfast and then he took me out to the desert in his old pickup truck.  I wished we were running away, part of me anyway.  We weren’t.  Stone was taking me out to teach me how to handle a pistol.  He insisted I carry one when we went to settle things with the Jamaicans.  He was still sore but his ankle was much better.  He barely had a limp anymore.

“Yeah, hold it just like that.  Now don’t jerk the trigger...squeeze it.  It will kick so hold on tight...but not too tight,” he told me.

“Is that supposed to help?” I asked him.  Stone smirked at me.

“Don’t let the gun get in your head.  You control the gun,” he told me.  I nodded and looked down range.  I peered down the sights as Stone had shown me, slipped my finger onto the trigger and took a deep breath.  I squeezed and...it wasn’t that bad.  I could hear the gun go off but with the ear muffs on, it wasn’t loud or scary.

“That’s fun,” I told him, turning to regard Stone.  He extended a hand and made sure I didn’t point the gun his way.  “Oh, sorry,” I said.  This was all new to me and all the safety procedures weren’t ingrained yet.

“That’s fine.  Go ahead and do it again,” he told me.  I nodded and did as Stone told me.  Soon, I had emptied the magazine, 15 rounds in this case.  I turned to see what Stone thought, paying attention to where I pointed the gun this time.  He handed me another magazine.  “Good job.  Now load another, rack the slide and do it again,” he told me.

“Okay,” I replied and did as he asked.  I emptied that magazine and several more until I was shooting acceptable groups.  In other words, all the bullets actually hit the target but not necessarily the middle.

“Good enough,” Stone told me as he took the gun.  “Stand back,” he told me.  I took a couple of steps backwards.  He slammed a magazine in, released the slide and pointed the gun downrange.  Suddenly, he let loose, emptying his magazine in mere seconds and in a circle dead center on the target the size of the lid on my cup of coffee.

“Holy shit,” I exclaimed.  Stone checked the gun to make sure it was empty and set it on the case that sat on the tailgate of his pickup.

“Impressive, right?” he remarked.

“Honestly, yes.  I want to be able to do that,” I told him.

“Practice, practice, practice,” he told me.

“Can I have my own?” I wondered.

“Yeah, if you want.  You don’t need my permission,” he replied.

“I mean, can I legally get one?” I asked.

“Oh, not like this one.  This one is illegal here,” Stone told me.  “How old are you?” he added.

“Twenty,” I said.

“Really?” he asked.

“I’m almost twenty one,” I told him.  Stone smirked and raised that single eyebrow at me.  “What?” I wondered.

“I didn’t know you were so young,” he said.

“Oh stop it, you sicko,” I teased.

“Anyway, you can’t buy a handgun until your twenty-one.  But I can buy one and give it to you.  We’ll take a trip over to Nevada or Arizona and get you one like this,” he told me.

“An illegal gun?” I wondered.

“Yeah.  California’s gun laws are bullshit so I don’t pay attention.  Does that bother you?” Stone asked.  I wondered if he was testing me but I didn’t think so.

“No, it’s kind of sexy,” I said.  We were in good spirits but it was early and midnight seemed a long time away.  It wasn’t.  We went home, cleaned the 9mm pistol, and then Stone brought another that he would carry.  It was similar but in a .45 caliber.  The afternoon dragged by as we tried to pretend we weren’t going to face danger later that night.  We watched a movie, made dinner, watched another movie and then just sat in the dark as the reality sank in.

“It’s early but we should just go to the clubhouse,” I said finally.

“Yeah, this sucks,” Stone told me.

“Big time,” I replied.  We got dressed to go out.  We both wore jeans and boots.  Stone wore a t-shirt and leather jacket.  I wore a tank top and my own leather jacket.  Inside, I had my pistol tucked into a pocket.  Stone wore his in the waistband of his jeans under his untucked t-shirt.

We drove to the clubhouse in my car.  It dawned on us both that Stone didn’t have a bike for us to ride that night as we drove.  My compact car wasn’t exactly going to project power when we met the Jamaicans.  In fact, they might simply laugh at us before they killed us.  “What are we going to do?” I wondered.

“Borrow a bike, I guess,” Stone said.  We pulled into the parking lot of Rocky’s garage and found the roll up door of the clubhouse open.  Rocky, Ginger and the Mike’s were there already.  “Evening,” Stone greeted them.

“You’re early,” Rocky observed.

“Sick of sitting around thinking about this,” Stone admitted.  “By the way, I don’t have a bike after last night.  Could we borrow one?” he asked.  Rocky looked at the Mikes.  They both grinned back at Rocky.  Ginger had covered her mouth to hide her own smile.  “What?” Stone asked.

Rocky tilted his head at the next bay.  It was open but too dark inside.  Stone walked over.  I followed. Curious to see what was going on.  Rocky wandered over and as we stood in front of the dark garage bay, he hit the lights.  They flickered to life and there sat Stone’s bike.

“What the hell?” he asked as a big smile crossed his face.

“Mike and I went back last night and got your ride.  We spent the day, along with Rocky, getting it ready.  Some of the bling was already stripped and the paint on the side of the tank is messed up but it runs,” Big Mike said.

“I figured it was toast.  I was going to file an insurance claim and tell them it was stolen,” Stone said.

“Sorry, kid.  You don’t get a new bike.  You have to ride this piece of shit,” Rocky said.  Stone laughed.

“I love this piece of shit.  You guys rock.  I don’t know how to thank you,” Stone said.

“You’re a brother. It’s the least we could do,” Little Mike said.  Stone walked over and shook each man’s hand in turn and then went to the fridge and grabbed us all a beer and delivered them as Rocky took his seat again.

“Thanks.  I mean that.  I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me that I lost my bike but it bothered me,” Stone said.  I leaned on him, sitting on the arm of his chair.  He slipped his arm around me.

“Aw, Stone,” I began sympathetically, “You’re not going to cry are you?”  He looked up at me, one eyebrow cocked, and then dug his fingers into my ribs.  I laughed out loud and tried to squirm away but he stopped before I could.  “Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” I told him.

“That’s why I love you,” he said.  Fucker.  Now I almost cried.  He said it to me the previous night but this was in public, in front of friends.

“I love you too,” I replied and adjusted my position to get comfortable again.

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” Ginger asked me.  I glared at her.

“Shut up,” I said and blew a kiss at her.  She did the same.  We sat and drank, talked and waited, trying to avoid the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room.  For a time, it was pleasant, even when Dusty and Enrique showed up on their bikes, Dusty leaving the van full of guns at the clubhouse locked up in one of the bays.  They seemed to have shifted their attitude in the past twenty four hours.  But when Bobby showed up, the whole mood changed.  Dusty and Enrique, once his allies, now mostly ignored him.  The rest of us did too as much as we could.  It was awkward but the time to go had come anyway.  Dusty went to his van but Stone stopped him.

“No, not this time.  Maria and I will drive the van,” he told Dusty.  Stone hadn’t mentioned that but it made sense.  Bobby might just disappear with the guns and money getting the rest of us killed.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Dusty replied.  Bobby didn’t like it.

“I’d rather ride anyway,” he said though his anger was apparent.