Hog Wild (An Erotic Three Pigs Twisted Fairy Tale) (2 page)

“Pretty much.”

“Excellent. Now,” she pushed him back until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat down hard. “I want to measure you.”

“I think there’s a tape measure in my toolbox.” Beau couldn’t help his proud grin.

Lula’s gaze rested on his long rod, standing like a lone pine tree. “I have a much better way to measure such things.” She reached out and pushed his shoulders back onto the mattress, then dropped to her knees.

Beau raised his head just in time to see her long, pink tongue emerge from between blood red lips. Starting at the thick root of his cock, it continued sliding aloft in one single, sensuous lick, ending at the crown. Her mouth engulfed the tip and tugged upward, leaving bright red streaks on his taut skin. Beau groaned. “Baby, you were right. That is a much better way to measure a man’s dick.” He leaned back on his elbows to enjoy watching her suck him off.

She continued to stroke him with tongue and fingers, grazing his aching rod with her teeth, nipping his flesh here and there until he was ready to explode. Her tongue made loud lapping sounds that pushed his excitement button to the max. He loved a woman who made noisy sex.

“Aww, honey, that feels fuckin’ fantastic.” His climax built quickly—and she had yet to put his whole cock in her mouth. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Lula looked up at him, her stare hot and heavy. “I’ve eaten my share of men, Beau. I’m good at what I do.”

“I’ll say you are—Christ!” Beau’s whole body spasmed as she took his entire length into her mouth, right down to the base. His blood began to pound as muscles in her throat squeezed his flesh fast, faster, faster. “Jesus…Lula…” he panted. “I’m gonna, come baby, come right down your…Ahhhhhhgh!”

Beau’s words turned into a scream of pleasure laced with pain as Lula’s throat squeezed his cock and she simultaneously pressed her fingers deeply into the soft area beneath his balls. His dick gushed like water from a garden hose, on and on in an endless orgasm. The last thing he thought before passing out was,
My God, I’ve been sucked to death




Chapter 3

Lula Takes a Chance

ula rose from her knees, still swallowing her tasty snack, and licked her lips.
. She paused, gazing at the now limp figure, his dark hair falling across his forehead in a soft fringe. Yes, he’d been sweet.
. Perhaps she’d been too impatient. Might’ve been fun to let him try to pleasure her. God knew, he couldn’t have been worse than the others.

But she was in a hurry. That rally in Concord promised a bountiful crop of hogs—surely one of them could manage to bring her to climax. She couldn’t remember the last time she had come, and the ache in her pussy had gotten no better from her dealings with Beau. The pulsing throb deep inside her subsided as Lula watched his deep breathing. She strode into the bathroom to dress.

Several minutes later, Lula emerged and paused. She turned and stepped towards the bed, bent over and licked one last drop of cum from his long, flaccid member. Beau hadn’t lied. He was considerably longer than six and a half.
Shouldn’t have been so hasty. Oh, well.

As she hurried through the cramped living room, Lula brushed against an end table as she opened the front door. A crash brought her attention to a picture frame she had knocked over. She picked the photo up to set it back on the table, and stopped, arrested by the three faces smiling up at her.

The one on the left was Beau, the others some close kin.
Brothers for sure. As alike as three pigs in a poke.
Their faces seemed created from the same mold, though with distinctive features that gave them their individuality. Even more alluring than the rugged faces, however, were the Harleys parked beside them. Just to the side of Beau, the Panhead peeked out; the middle brother’s bike was hidden behind him. But the man on the right commanded Lula’s undivided attention. Rather, his Blue Phantom did.

A dazzling bike in electric blue, this Phantom was the hottest ride she had seen in years. Its sleek fairing and aerodynamic design screamed speed to Lula—speed that would get her to the rally in record time.

The man beside the motorcycle, however, screamed danger just as loudly. An older version of Beau, who had seen, heard, and done it all. The beginnings of fine lines around bright blue eyes that matched his bike, hawk-like nose, lean cheeks with at least a day’s dark beard on them, and full, enticing lips all whispered “true hog” to Lula. Those lips alone sent a shiver of almost forgotten desire down her body. Could she solve both transportation and sexual problems in one shot?
Riding that bike and coming would be truly hot
. But doubtful. The stubborn look on old blue-eyes’ face said he would not give up his motorcycle easily. If she wanted that bike, she’d have to lay the owner low, so to speak. Which meant no orgasm for her.

She gave the gorgeous face one last longing look, then set the frame down, her thoughts racing ahead. Lula crossed to the telephone on the trailer’s breakfast bar, her eyes on the yellow book lying underneath. Flipping to the page starting with the name Hocutt, Lula scanned the column until she found three Hogues: Beau, Jesse, and Robert. Beau she eliminated. Next was Jesse on Deadman Pass Road. That certainly sounded promising. And Robert lived on Agate Street. The town might have three Harleys, but it was one horse, nevertheless. She tore the page out of the book. All she needed now was to take a quick ride around and she was bound to come across one of the two men. She had a fifty-fifty chance she’d find the Blue Phantom first. Was today her lucky day?

* * * *

Where the hell is Beau?
Rob looked up from polishing the front fender of his 1999 XL Sport one last time, and peered down the gravel driveway. No Panhead. Of course he knew that.
Would have heard the damn loud thing when Beau turned onto Wheeler’s Road half a mile away.
They had already missed the cool of the morning and were going to get stuck out in Death Valley in the heat of the fucking day if Beau didn’t hurry up. He returned to his work, moving to the rear fender, now the only part of the bike still in the shade of his back deck. Rubbing the shammy cloth lovingly across the black metal, he contemplated the punishment he would dole out to his brother when he arrived.

For Christsake, Beau, at least you could have called
. The thought made Rob reach for his cell phone and hold down the number three key—speed dial for his little brother. After three rings Beau’s voice spoke loudly in his ear: “Hidy! Leave a message for Beau, who’s out working on his damn Panhead again.”

At the end of the beep, Rob yelled into the cell, “Answer the fuckin’ phone, you son of bitch. You’re late. Call me now.” He flipped the phone closed and slid it back into the pocket of his worn striped shirt. When he reached to retrieve the shammy, he brushed against the fringed, black leather chaps covering his jeans, scorching his fingers.
Shit! Might as well take these off until the little bastard shows up. No need to roast before we even leave
. He reached for the antique chrome belt buckle.

“Need some help with that?”

Rob’s head snapped up at the sound of a low, sexy voice. He removed his sunglasses to get a better look at the hot brunette.
I gotta see this in living color
. Sight of her black hair, cut longer on one side, started a twitch down in his groin. Lips so full and red if she stuck her tongue out she would look like the model for the Rolling Stones logo.
God, I hope she sticks her tongue out
. And legs that reached up to her tits. The chaps were not the only thing heated now.

“You offering, honey?” Rob gave her his best Paul Newman come-on stare. Sadie down at El Ranchito told him once he looked kind of like Paul Newman, but Sadie’d say anything to get laid.

She smiled and the tip of her tongue eased through her lips just a little before she said, “Sure sounded like that, didn’t it?”

Feeling like a furnace had ignited in his dick, Rob sauntered over to the woman, hoping she was not a mirage induced by sunstroke. He stopped close enough to smell the salty tang of her skin, his eyes focused on that heavenly wicked mouth. “Then have at it, sweetheart.” He thrust his hips towards her.

Her smile widened. “Boldness. I like that in a stranger.” Her hand dropped to his belt buckle.

* * * *

This whole family is going to be delightful.
Lula knew from the moment she saw the Sportster this was the wrong house. She would still have to track Jesse down. While Rob didn’t have the bike she sought, from the looks of him, he might have something else she could use.

Lula loosened the straps and eased the chaps over his slim hips. She squatted as she peeled the hot leather down over first one, then the other hard muscled thigh. When she reached his ankles he easily lifted a booted foot—no wobbling with this one—so she could finish freeing him.

Lula continued to hunker down, warm leather in her hands, and his bulging crotch in her face. She stared at the taut, faded blue fabric; even the zipper tag stuck straight out, pointing accusingly at her, as if to say, “See what you started!” Smiling at her fanciful thoughts, she reached up to grab the cheeky little tag, when Rob’s hand snared hers. Tilting her head back, she raised an eyebrow. “You said I could help myself.”

“To take the chaps off, honey. We haven’t been properly introduced for anything else.”

She shook her head at his bid for control and rose to stand before him.
Another tall one. I hope he’s got “more in his pants” as well. Definitely gonna let this one try

“I’m Lula. And you are?”
“Robert Hogue. Call me Rob. Lula who?”

He cocked his head and grinned. “Haven’t seen you in Shoshone before, Lula. I’d have remembered you.” His glance swept over her face, down to her breasts and remained there.

“No, I’m only passing through. Heading to the big North Meets South HOG Rally in Concord. An annual event I always attend.”

“You ride?” His eyes narrowed, suspicious, as he checked her clothes once more.

Lula laughed, handed him the chaps, and stepped back. “Why so surprised? Not in these clothes, of course. My ride broke down out in the desert and I thought these would be a bit cooler to walk in until I could find some help.” Her voice softened to a low growl. “Can you help me?”

Rob sucked in his bottom lip. “Depends on what you need, Lula. You looking for a mechanic or just a ride?” His baby-blues stared straight into her eyes, and he winked.

“What if I need both?”

“Then this is your lucky day, honey, ‘cause I am both.” He leaned forward and ran a warm, tanned finger down her arm. “Which do you need first?”

Lula’s arm broke out in gooseflesh, a distinctly pleasant sensation. “I suppose we could start with a ride and see where it takes us.” She stepped close, grabbed his head and pulled him down, wrapping her lips around his mouth as it opened to…agree? Protest?

Her tongue stabbed into him and she heard a grunt, and his arm cinched her waist, drawing her pelvis against the hard-on in his jeans. Hips grinding against the thick ridge, Lula stroked his tongue, urging it into her mouth. When he complied, she sucked it like a candy cane until the man squirmed and pulled back, eyes wide.

“Damn, lady! Are you part leech?”

Lula laughed and grabbed his hand. “One part. I have been known to let go on occasion.” She pulled him toward the steps leading onto his deck. “Let’s go inside.” When his eyebrows rose in twin question marks, she leaned in and whispered, “I promise not to bite.”

“Well, don’t take
the fun out of it.”

She licked her lips. “Not a chance.”

They headed up the wooden steps to the deck, but when Lula would have turned to the door that led inside the house, Rob tugged her into the center of the deck. A group of colorful striped lounge chairs clustered around an in-deck hot tub. He flipped a switch on the control panel and jets began to hiss bubbles onto the water’s surface.

“One advantage to living on the fringes of a small town is a lack of snoopy neighbors.” He indicated the empty desert that stretched to the horizon. “You game for skinny-dipping, Lula?”

She chuckled. “I’m game for anything at this point, Rob.” Unwavering, she stared into his eyes as she crossed her arms, grasped the bottom edge of the white bandeau and pulled it over her head in one liquid movement.
I’m going to wear this top out if I keep getting dressed and undressed today
. She tossed the garment onto a lounge chair and posed with hands on hips.
Your move.

Rob took a deep breath and raced to unbutton his shirt. He plucked it off then pulled his tee shirt over his head, its momentum sailing it into a corner. His wide, well-muscled shoulders dropped as his arms went back to his sides and Lula feasted on the sight of his bronzed skin rippling over tight abs. Three quick steps and she was against him, her tongue darting out to lick the hard nubbin of a male nipple.

“Jesus!” He clamped her shoulders, eyes closed, steadying himself. “You play hard, darlin.’”

She ran her hand the length of his thick erection, like a cannon stuffed down his jeans. “So do you.” Lula reached to unbutton his jeans.

“Shit!” Rob grabbed her before she could make contact.

Lula pulled back, glaring at him. “You’re awfully protective of that package, Rob. What do you have in there, the crown jewels?”

“No, it’s not that.” He shook his head and gave an exasperated snort. “Fuck. I just remembered, my little brother’s coming over any minute. We’re supposed to ride Death Valley today.”

Lula glanced at the black leather watch on her wrist. “I’m sure he’s still asleep.” Rob looked confused, so to distract him, she continued with the only argument that might get those jeans off him. “Besides, if he shows up, he could join us. The more the merrier, as they say.”

Other books

Dollmaker by J. Robert Janes
Commitment by Healy, Nancy Ann
Lords of the Bow by Conn Iggulden
Downshadow by Bie, Erik Scott de
Fearless Curves by D. H. Cameron
Fusion by Rose, Imogen
Relatively Famous by Heather Leigh
Urban Shaman by C.E. Murphy